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skzdarlings · 2 months ago

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the rescue ; skz; aotm!hyunjin x reader

original ask: requested by @tattywood: ❛ i'm simply enjoying the view. it's not every day i get to fuck someone so pretty. ❜ would 100000% fit Hyunjin 🩶 + requested by anonymous: ❛ you're mine, and i take care of what belongs to me. ❜ with hyunjin? thank you

pairing: hwang hyunjin/reader content info: artist of the month!hyunjin was inspo here. gangster stuff, reader has been kidnapped and is in a see through nightdress, most violence off page though, bad guy hyunjin who is actually a good guy, arranged marriage, multiple smut scenes, not great communication but gets better lol. smut includes fingering, blow jobs, pussy eating, piv, spanking, light choking, husband/wife kink. word count: 6300 words.

masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy! <3

“I’ve already explained,” you say, equal parts frustrated and exhausted. “My husband isn’t coming for me.”

The gangster cronies still don’t seem to understand. You are tied to a chair in their basement (because they are preposterously corny goons, tying you up like a comically silly damsel in a ridiculous film) while they berate you for your husband’s tardiness.

You have tried explaining, over and over, that Hyunjin is not coming, but they won’t accept that answer. The fools try in vain to reach him again, but his line leads straight to a dial tone.

He went radio silent after the initial video contact, when your captors demanded a price for your healthy return.

Hyunjin was quiet on the call. Your husband is a quiet man in general, though he knows how to use his charms and work a room, and he has certainly perfected the art of severe intimidation. When your marriage was arranged, one mob family to the other, you mistakenly assumed you were marrying a monster.

Hyunjin is very reserved when not conducting business. He doesn’t engage in any of the more debauched sides of the business, unlike the men in your family. Evenings at home are silent and still, the penthouse view of the glittering cityscape the only real bustle.

Maybe that shouldn’t have surprised you. When he took over his family’s business, Hyunjin altered a lot of their practices, cutting the crueler sectors, opting for illicit crimes of more practical varieties.

The country is in a political chokehold, government affairs conducted none too differently from the criminal underworld. The cops are all dirty, the politicians corrupt, the wealthy depraved. Hyunjin has taken it upon himself to alleviate the pressure suffered by the regular people, the civilians who truly pay the price of a broken system.

In a world with no good guys, sometimes only villains can be heroes.

You think of his face now, how he certainly looked the part of a villain on the video call. Hyunjin has a very austere demeanour, exacerbated by his severe appearance: sharp marble features and dark, vicious eyes often further darkened with heavy lining, sleek black hair, scattered scars and tattoos, and the sort of regard that judges at a glance. He is young, but he has the air of a man who has already traversed the universe and found it wanting.

You think of his face now, the silent perusal he gave your bound body on that video call. You are dressed in your favourite nightgown, your underthings partially visible through the light material, but it was not willingly donned. At the time of your kidnapping, you were attired appropriately for the wealthy wife of a famous gangster. You were returning from a family visit when your captors intercepted you in transit from the airport.

Either to intimidate or threaten or just because they could, they made you remove all your jewelry and fine clothes. They rifled through your luggage and demanded you change into the nightgown.

Hyunjin recognized the nightdress, realized you must have been stripped, and likely inferred the very worst.

“Address,” was the only word Hyunjin said. He ended the call seconds later.

“Oh, he’ll come,” your captor says. He points at you with a hand that feels more threatening than a knife. It makes your terrified heart leap into your throat. “Or else.”

“He won’t, though!” you exclaim. “You’re wasting your time!”

They are not listening. They leave the basement, slamming the door behind them.

You huff and settle back in your bonds.

It is only a matter of time before they realize you are telling the truth. Hyunjin will not waste the money or resources to rescue you. He has always been respectful of the marriage arrangement, but your husband is not sentimental. There is a professional distance between you. His decision will be based in the logic of all his strategies: nothing personal, just a matter of business.

You sometimes see a different side of him, something buried under that quiet intensity. He collects fine art and spends hours poring over his favourite pieces, listening to music, losing himself to artistic fantasies. He always comes back, but you know there are other worlds in his mind.

Every attempt to bridge the gap has been gently rebuffed, but there have been moments when your husband seems curious about you. You often catch him staring. He gets a wistful look that softens his face, even with that shield of make-up. His eyes are gentle when you talk about your passions. You never let his quietude deter your friendly penchant for chatter. He seems more than content to listen. He remembers everything too.

You know he finds you attractive, if nothing else. He has caved on that front several times over, though not right away. He didn’t touch you on the wedding night, nor the honeymoon. He left your beach holiday early to return to business, leaving you in a villa with security and his credit card. It was the first time you realized the material world was no replacement for true companionship. You missed his dark eyes.

Your family also had expectations. There would be consequences if the marriage fell through. You would be blamed, not him. Worried he would renege on the nuptials, you did everything to try and seduce him.

He politely rejected you at every turn.

Just when you were resigned, he arrived home after a job. It was almost three in the morning when he entered the penthouse. You have separate bedrooms but they share a connecting bathroom. You could hear him cursing above the running water.

You only meant to peek. The sliding door on your side was partially ajar so you tip-toed over.

Hyunjin was standing in front of the mirror, shirtless, pressing a rag to his wounded shoulder. There was a mess of blood streaked down his back, making you gasp at the terrible mosaic of pain, his body littered with violent scars.

That gasp contained multitudes, for the horror, for his beauty. His dark eyes were as severely lined as ever, expression intense as he breathed hard through the pain. Smooth black hair fell across his face when he tipped his head.

He froze at the sound of your gasp. His turn was very slow, eyes peeking through the curtain of his short hair. They captured yours.

You held your breath.

Eventually, he straightened, flicking his hair out of his face. He looked in the mirror and sighed.

“You can come in,” he said. “This is your home too.”

You slid the door open, just enough to squeeze through. Your attention was utterly transfixed on his bleeding shoulder. You could see the wound was a thin stripe. It was not deep so stitches were not necessary, but it was slightly out of his reach as it sloped towards his back.

“Oh, Hyunjin,” you said, thoughtlessly taking the rag right out of his hands.

In spite of the violence that raised you, or maybe because of it, you can’t stand to see suffering. You and Hyunjin have had that in common from the start. You were quick to help him clean the wound, wordlessly wiping all the blood then applying cream across the clotted cut.

He flinched when the stinging cream made contact. You went to apologize but your words evaporated when your eyes met through the mirror. You were surprised to find him already looking at you, that expressive gaze as thoughtful as ever.

“How did this happen?” you couldn’t help but ask, eyes rivetted to his reflection. “You – you have people to protect you.” You managed to rip your gaze away, looking at your task, feeling hot in the face.

“I do,” he said. “But I’d never ask someone to do something I’m not willing to do myself.”

This did not surprise you to hear. It is obvious that Hyunjin cares very deeply about the wellbeing of other people. It is a fact known to few. It aggravates you at times, but his reputation does not seem to bother him. He would rather people think him a monster while he secretly does good rather than be praised in public while cruel in private.

You have never known another man like him. Looking at that scar that night, the realization truly struck you.

Your fingers began to tremble where they brushed his bare skin, your eyes widening as you looked at the scar and many others. If something happened to him, what would become of you? Certainly, as his widow, you would be financially sound, but what did that matter? This world would lose something irreplaceable if it lost Hwang Hyunjin. This penthouse could be brimming with silver and gold and it would be empty, worthless.

Tears in your eyes, you succumbed to desire, kissing him very gently on his hurt shoulder.

“Hyunjin,” you said, your eyes closed, lips grazing his skin as you spoke. “Please make sure you always come home, okay?”

He did not answer at first. When you lifted your eyes and looked in the mirror, those dark eyes were so enflamed that you were surprised nothing caught fire.

“Hyunjin?” you said softly.

“You mean that,” he said, not quite a question, more like a realization.

“Of course,” you replied. You looked at his scarred back again, let your fingertips brush down the length of his spine. It made him stand a little straighter. “Have you ever known me to lie?” you asked.

He finally turned around, looking at you with an long-engrained wariness, but also a hunger. He was a starving man presented with a banquet, but one who did not easily trust when sitting at someone else’s table.

“You’re a smart woman,” he said. “I know that. And I know that you’re – good.”

Good was an exhale, like the word was too heavy for his tongue. You realized that his wariness was less suspicion for you than hesitation regarding himself. He was only starving because he though himself undeserving of the meal he wanted.

“You’ve seen – and done – many bad things tonight, haven’t you?” you asked.

Having the full force of his gaze was overwhelmingly heady. You remember how it made your heart race like you were being chased, your breath catching over and over until you were almost panting.

Arousal struck quickly, a sensation like you never experienced before. You thought you understood attraction, but not until that moment when he released a breath, so close to your face, and you became truly aware of his proximity. Of him, of all that he was, all that he did. His character, his hidden depths.

Your husband.

It made your racing heart thunder something fierce, your blood pumping hotly, throbbing places you did not know were so sensitive.

You desperately wondered what was on his mind. The gears in his head were spinning and whirring, delaying his response. Was he feeling the same tension? Were his thoughts the same realization?

My wife.

“Yes,” he finally said.

“Is there something I can do to help?” you asked.

His tattooed hand cupped your head, tilting it just so. It made your lips part with a gasp, eyelids heavy with anticipation for a kiss.

He took his time looking at you, like he was scrubbing all those bad memories away, replacing them with the flustered look on his aroused wife’s face.

“Yes,” he said again, and kissed you for the first time.

You were so glad he rebuffed your previous half-hearted advances, clumsy seductions made out of obligation rather than desire. It was so different to that kiss. You would not have known how to even ask for a kiss like that. You never knew what you were missing.

Your quiet husband and his multitudes. All that simmering intensity, hot just below the surface of his icy demeanour, burned right through his skin. His kiss was ravishing, entirely possessive, like he wished to take your whole essence into him and hold it forever.

He walked you backwards. With a snap of his wrist, he slid the door open the rest of the way, so sharp that it tried to bounce back. He continued onward, kissing you until you were dizzy with it.

He picked you up just to put you on the bed himself. Your kiss separated only then as you landed with a bounce and a breath.

He loomed over the edge of the bed, this man who was both stranger and husband, hero and villain. He looked at you like he already loved you. He looked at you and saw the reciprocation. You had fallen for him without realizing you had ever even stumbled.

He ran his hands through his hair, the sleek black locks fluttering back into place. His eyes were still rivetted to your face, to your body. You were wearing the nightdress you are wearing now. It is why it became your favourite.

He looked down at you, the material translucent enough to see the details of your body. It broke through that last layer of ice. He surrendered with a choked breath.

He unclasped a holster on his thigh, dropped a knife that was hidden in a pocket. Once unarmed, his hands went to his belt. You watched those nimble, efficient fingers, swallowing hard. You were aching to an embarrassing degree, undoubtedly obvious in your desires. No one ever warned you it would feel like this, just being looked at, never mind touched.

Then his belt was on the floor and he touchedyou for real. His calloused hands moved up your thighs, pushing the nightdress up and out of his way. He climbed on top of you, swift as a feline, mouth descending onto yours with that same desperate hunger as before.

Recollection makes you crave another kiss. You think you will always be starving for more.

“Hyunjin,” you whispered, hands on his face, his shoulders, down to his chest.

He took your hands and laced your fingers with his, pinning those hands to the bed. He kissed you again, long and slow. It was all more sensual than desperate.

His voice, however, was desperate when he begged, “Let me make you feel good, please.” He kissed down your face, your jaw, your throat. “Please, my wife.” He kissed further down still, through your nightdress, tracing the curve of your breast with his tongue, wetting the material and awakening every nerve beneath it. “My wife,” he repeated.

“My husband.” The words left your lips in a dizzy, delirious whisper.

It was all the confirmation he needed. Those deft and skilled hands, so quick to assemble weapons and pull triggers, applied themselves with a startling gentleness. He took you apart and put you together with the same efficient ease.

He hooked his fingers in the only material between him and his desire, tugged it out of his way. His fingers went to you, slipping through all that wetness. Those intense eyes rolled back even though it was just his fingers inside you, then he closed his eyes like it was too much, and it seemed he had to temper himself, murmuring nonsense as he let his fingers sink into you.

He kissed you again, drinking down every sigh and gasp and moan while he fucked you with his long fingers. It was like he could taste your pleasure, like he was trying to get drunk on it, every noise you made filling his mouth. He gave them back and brought you over a peak, first with his hands, then with his mouth. He laid between your legs and put your thighs around his head, losing himself entirely in you.

He did not remove a single article of your clothing nor his pants, not that first time. He simply held the material to the side as he unzipped and finally got inside you. It made your whole body keen, coming to life like it never had before. You forgot all your sensibilities and let every wanton sound and action loose.

He responded in kind. His kiss tasted like your pleasure, his heart pounding as fast as yours where your chests pressed together. You were careful near his injured shoulder, fingertips dodging scars. Your soft touch made him whimper, this powerful man entirely undone by a few caresses.

His skin was hot and he worked up a sweat, but his stamina seemed endless. He always wanted more.

You fell asleep tucked in his arms, content to believe the walls had crumbled. However, they revealed themselves in the morning light, as concrete as ever. He slipped away and left a note to excuse his absence as he was called away to business. You thought about phoning or messaging him, but those lines were not always secure, not for such intimate conversations.

When he returned a few days later, he hid behind those concrete walls, but too much had changed. There was now an awareness of your proximity and your distance. The lack of intimacy was not called into question before, the absence of something being a nothing. But now that nothing was something, or had been something for a moment, and it made you both very aware of how it was now missing – and anticipating always when it might again appear.

He tried very hard to keep away, to stay cordial at best, his habitual quietude even heavier than before. But while his silence was significant, so was his glance. Every time you turned around, he was already looking at you, a longing in his eyes and a thought on his lips that he never dared to speak aloud.

You granted him some distance for a time. When it became abundantly obvious he was holding himself in check, you realized that your own vulnerability was required to bridge the gap.

One night you crossed through the bathroom, slid open the door on his side. You found him at his desk, dressed down in a white dress shirt and pants. His blazer was discarded on the floor, his face still made up.

He stood quickly when you entered, though he didn’t say anything.

It was strange to imagine this man would need any reassurance, but you felt that was the case. His fingers fidgeted at his sides, his roving eyes studious.

You said nothing. You approached him, laid your hands on his chest, and gently guided him back into his chair. He sat slowly, his eyes on your face the entire time, even when he had to tip his head back to peer up at you.

You ran your fingers through his hair. When you entered the room, his face was tightly screwed in an expression of aggravation, but all those harsh lines softened as you traced a thumb down the sharp slope of his cheek.

There were some wipes on his desk. You took one and began to carefully remove that shield of dark make-up. His hand lifted but not to stop you, simply to rest his palm on your waist. He began to really touch you, feeling the shape of your body through your robe as you helped him come back to himself.

“Hello,” you finally said, looking at his bare face. Still impossibly beautiful.

“Hello,” he replied.

His fingertips dipped towards the hem of the robe. Before he could distract you with your own pleasure, you sunk to your knees in front of him. This startled him, his hand frozen in the air as you fit yourself between his open knees.

He caught your hand, his reflexes fast, before it could reach his fly. You could see he was already affected, a heavy bulge in the black material making your mouth water and core tighten.

He squeezed your hand and you looked up at his face. He tipped his head, blinked rapidly, an expression of mild confusion.

You took your hand back and unknotted your robe. The silk fell from your shoulders and down, sliding like water right off your body. You were completedly naked underneath.

It clarified everything, his confusion gone, replaced with surprise.

“You—” he began. It was interrupted when you put your head in his lap, resting on his thigh. You led his hand to the back of your neck and kissed him through his pants. It made his fingers clasp tighter around you.

“Please,” you said.

He would never deny you anything. Not the smallest gift nor grandest gesture. When you started a new charity to further your combined philanthropic efforts, he spared no expense in aiding the endeavour. You shared passions, and now you shared this.

He was stiff at the start, but gradually let himself go lax in his seat. His hand kept a steady grip on the back of your neck, not guiding but holding, like he thought you might disappear otherwise. He murmured your name, letting his head fall back as you worked him in your mouth.

You intended to make him finish like that, seeking nothing for yourself at that precise moment. He had other ideas, needing more of your shared pleasure to take him over that brink.

He lifted your face, adjusted his pants, and was on his feet in a matter of seconds. That hand on your neck dragged you up, up, up until your naked body was pressed against his clothed one. He clung to you needily, claiming your mouth in a wanting kiss.

His hands moved over you, every new inch of skin making him moan as he walked you towards the bed. The kiss only broke when you both sat down, his lips against yours as he breathed, almost smiling, “My pretty wife.”

“Hyunjin,” you said, shaking your head, feeling suddenly shy just because of a simple compliment.

He did not allow you to curl into yourself with any shame. When you tried, he seized you, pulling you onto his lap so you straddled it. His eyes moved up and down your body, hands following, from your thighs to hips to waist and up.

“What are you doing?” you said, laughing helplessly when he kissed somewhere ticklish on your throat. The sound made him smile, even softer than before, though it turned a little wicked as his mouth went lower.

“I’m simply enjoying the view,” he said, then wrapped his lips around the stiff peak of your breast, ran his tongue up and over. He licked and kissed back up to your mouth. “It’s not everyday I get to fuck someone so pretty.”

As he said this, he opened his pants again, eyes on yours as he grabbed your thighs and moved you so he could thrust up into you. His hips moved with a slow roll, letting you adjust to him. It had been a little while, and this angle was different.

And Hyunjin is not small. Your husband is built in perfect proportion, his body a long, hard, slender build – everything inside you at that moment was no exception. This angle made you whimper, clinging to him like he was a life preserver in a storm. The roll of his hips kept coming like waves and you were sure you would drown otherwise.

Your arms were around his neck, his graceful but strong hands digging into the meat of your thighs as he fucked you. He felt impossibly deep, every upward stroke feeling like it was bursting past something, pushing everything inside your body up to your throat.

You swallowed again and again, the taste of him still on your lips, the feel of him inside every inch of you. You clenched and tightened involuntarily, just pure animal reaction, and it made him moan and find all those sweet spots to make it happen again.

“Help,” was your somewhat nonsensical request, blurted in the midst of some moaning babbling.

Fortunately, he was and is a smart man. He understood. He clasped you tight to his body and fell back on the bed, thrusting up into you with sharper, more focussed determination, faster until you were weeping on his chest, delirious with pleasure. His shirt was unbuttoned and you accidentally ripped a few buttons right off, trying to press your face to bare skin.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you said as you tumbled over a height you never reached before. You never knew you could come just from that, stimulated somewhere so deep inside you, but it made you come undone in his arms.

He watched you unravel and it made him follow, clinging to you as he just barely pulled out before coming between your dripping thighs. It was all so messy and wet, your legs trembling, but it felt so good that it hardly mattered.

He caught his breath, then looked at your face just lose that breath again. He moaned and dragged you in for another kiss.

Then you were on your back, the night far from over.

That second night is the one that truly opened the door to more. Though your husband can be reticent in other regards, he is not quiet when he is inside you. You have come together again and again, a conversation with your bodies as you look for pleasure in a dangerous world. You always find it, tucked in the protective circle of his arms, wrapped around every inch of him.

You have been out of his arms for too long. Your visit to your family grew tedious before long. Your home is with Hyunjin now and you were eager to return.

Now it seems you may never see it again. You may never see him again.

No.

Just like the night when you took control for yourself, you must take control now. You realize if anything is to happen, then you must take the reins of your own rescue. You would not want Hyunjin to compromise himself or his important business. You know if something bad happened to you, it would weigh on his conscious, even if it was the better business decision. You must eliminate the need for choice.

It turns out, comical rope bindings are truly best suited for silly movies. When the men come to check on you again, you have slipped free of your bindings. There was an array of weapons in the room, so carelessly disposed because the assailants never assumed you would get free – or, if you did get free, that you would not know how to use them.

It is true, you do not like violence.

That does not mean you do not understand it.

You leave the two men unconscious in their basement. Unfortunately, you cannot find your suitcase and you do not want to hang around, so you venture outside in your nightgown. You are debating your next move when a car pulls into the driveway.

You back away quickly, raising the gun you stole as more men get out of the vehicle. You only stay your hand because you recognize one of them, though it takes a second to place him as one of Hyunjin’s lieutenants.

Then Hyunjin emerges. You have seen your husband before and after a confrontation, but never during it. If you thought he was an intimidating figure in the aftermath, he is all danger and darkness as he storms up the driveway now. There is such an energy radiating from him, it makes you stumble and forget yourself entirely.

Then he stumbles, recognizing you. You are both startled, staring at each other with the gun raised between you.

He looks nowhere but your eyes.

“Hyunjin?” you finally say.

“I—” He looks at you, the gun, the nightdress. He shakes his head. Some of that bravado returns when he says, “I’m here to save you.”

“Ah,” you say. You slowly lower the gun, at a loss how to reply. You were so resigned to the idea this was all still business. The reality of your husband risking himself to rescue you from unknown hostiles is making your heart pound.

In the end, all you can think to say is, “Sorry. You’re late.”

That wicked smile crosses his face, his tongue pushing at the corner of his mouth. He is suddenly nothing but amused, looking at you, then at the house.

“I can see that,” he says.

He whistles sharply and gestures to the house with a gloved hand. His lieutenants run past you and charge the door, no doubt heading inside to finish the job you started.

You turn to watch them go. In your distraction, Hyunjin grabs your arm. He is fast, effectively disarming you. He catches the gun with a twirl before tossing it aside.

It is not the gun he wants; it’s you.

Still holding your wrist, he tugs you into him. You throw your arms around him. The hug is surprisingly chaste, his face in your neck as he squeezes you like it is the only thing keeping him alive and standing.

“Are you hurt?” he asks.

When in his arms, it seems impossible to consider you could ever feel any pain.

You shake your head, daring to kiss his cheek. He turns his face to yours, your lips close enough to brush in a swipe.

“I’m all right now,” you say. “Sorry I beat you to the punch. I – I wasn’t sure if—”

His brow crinkles. That gloved hand goes from your wrist to your chin, seizing it between thumb and forefinger. He tips your head so he can look at your face. He always regards you like he does one of his masterpieces, like he can never get his fill, like there is always something new to find. He is enchanted every time.

“You’re mine,” he says. “And I take care of what belongs to me.”

You gasp when those fingers go from your chin to your throat, just enough to pull you in that last breath of a space. He kisses you there in the sunlight, utterly shameless.

“Do not ever doubt that,” he says. His eyes are soft with his affection, but his voice is hard, skirting the edge of a threat he would issue an adversary. It makes you tingle from head to toe. “Do I need to remind you?”

You never actually answer. You are not sure if your answer would have made a difference, as Hyunjin is determined to show you the very second you are home.

You reach the penthouse. There is no time to shower or decompress once you cross the threshhold. He sweeps you off your feet, your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his waist. You are wearing his blazer over your nightdress to preserve your modesty – not that it will last long.

He carries you to the bedroom where so many slow and subtle exchanges took place. Now, he is not slow or subtle. He is a force of nature. He tells you that he held no greater fear than losing you and he tried to keep his distance, but he regretted it the moment he saw you on that video call.

“You’re my wife,” he says, peeling his blazer off your body. “I’m your husband. There is nothing I should be holding back.”

“Yes,” you say, running your fingers through that smooth black hair. You shiver as he bunches the fabric of your nightdress, the material spilling over his fingers. “Don’t hold back,” you say, mouth open against his, stealing his every breath. “Do whatever you want.”

He tells you exactly what he wants, using his words for a change, finally letting those walls come down. He whispers every filthy thought into your ear, between kisses, between bites. You shiver at every suggestion.

And so, moments later, he is sitting on your bed. He arranges you to lay across his lap, facedown in the pillows while he runs his hands down your spine and over the curve of your ass.

“You’re my wife,” he says. The first tap of his open palm is through the thin material of your nightdress. It is truly just a warning tap, just enough to make you bounce. “Don’t ever doubt me again,” he says, swinging that strong hand a little harder.

This time a yelp escapes your lips. You wriggle until he pins you down, a hand on the back of your neck and the other lifting your dress. He already stripped your underthings, his open palm smoothing down all that bare skin.

You tingle with anticipation, braced yet still unprepared for the sharp smack he next delivers. You feel it tingle all the way up to your head, as well as the next one, and the next. You squirm under his firm grip, groaning his name as your thighs get tense and press together.

“Don’t say my name,” he says, and smacks you again. “Who am I?”

“M-my husband,” you say, practically mewling like a kitten when he next brings his hand down. “My husband,” you say again.

“And you are—”

“Your wife,” you say, though it comes out almost like a sob, a desperate gasp as he slips his fingers between your thighs and finds a new way to torture you. With your backside hot and stinging, the pleasure of his hand in that sensitive place feels amplified by a tenfold.

“Husband,” you say, hips bucking. His free hand goes from the back of your neck to your lower spine, holding you in his lap as he slowly finger-fucks you.

“Yes?” he says.

You do not even remember what you were going to say, or beg, or plead. You are overcome with sensation, tingling all over, intensifying the press of his fingers as he curls his fingers into that soft, soft place. Then you are really squirming, helplessly, instinctively, whining into the pillows.

“I make you feel good,” he says. “I take care of you. You, who are so good, and so smart, but so—”

You cry out when he angles his hand just a little differently. Your vision swims with stars as he speeds up.

“So soft,” he says, his own voice going soft, just a whisper as he makes you come all over his hand in a throbbing, aching, desperate wet mess. “Just for me,” he says in that whisper. “Just for your husband.”

“Mmmf,” is all the response you have left in you.

Your thighs are trembling and your pussy throbbing with aftershocks when he picks you up. He stands and turns, laying you on your side in the bed. You are grateful, as your backside still stings, though you suspect he is not done yet.

He strips out of his clothes, tearing through his shirt, leaving the pants in a heap. He forgets to remove his necklace. All that silver is cold against your hot skin as he lays down behind you. You do not have time to linger on it, as he gathers up the hem of your dress and adjusts himself behind you.

He has taken you many times, in many ways, many positions. When you are on your hands and knees, he is overtaken by a primal urge, your hips as leverage in his hands as he pounds into you like it is a chase. When you are on your back, he sinks into you slowly and deeply, rocking his hips into yours like he intends to fuck you forever. When you are in his lap, he rolls his hips in steady, needy waves, captivated by the sight of you in his arms.

He lays behind you now and wraps his arms around you, coaxes your thighs apart. Your nightdress is bunched every which way, leaving nothing to the imagination, and you feel especially exposed and vulnerable in this position somehow. Perhaps it is the fact he is the one holding you open, keeping you in position so he can take you.

You let yourself fall into it, fall into him. You let him tell you, with words and actions, exactly how he feels.

Before it ends, you change position. He lays back and you straddle his hips while stripping off your dress entirely. He keeps rolling up into you, only stopping when you plant your hands on his chest to slow him down. Then he practically sinks in the mattress, murmuring your name. His make-up is smudged, his calloused hands rough on your body. Whatever pains you experienced have been overtaken by his hands, by the smarting on your backside, still tender as you bring your body down onto his again and again. He has completely claimed you for himself and you take the same in turn.

“Hyunjin,” you say. “My husband, oh—”

He kisses your hand, long and hard, like he needs his mouth on some part of you desperately. Your fingers are curled into his pretty mouth when he comes, his hands on your hips and his cock buried inside you.

“Oh,” is your final sound before you slump on top of him, skin to skin.

He rolls you onto your side, though he keeps you wrapped around him, his arms around you in turn. His hair is already a sweaty mess and you rub your thumb through some of his shadowy make-up, but those familiar dark eyes are gazing at you with so much warmth. There is no more ice, no more cold concrete.

“I should let you rescue me more often,” you say with a laugh.

He doesn’t laugh back, but he does smile softly. It should be incongruous with his severe appearance, but it somehow comes together, layers of him exposed all at once as he strokes your cheek.

He looks at you like his favourite work of art.

“You were the one who rescued you,” he says. “Just like you rescued me.”

You cannot find the words to reply, so you kiss him. It speaks volumes, and he replies, kissing back.

You lose yourself to the sweetness, to the heat, to the passion, to all those things more, knowing there are many more to come with this man as your husband.

#hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #skz x reader #skz smut #stray kids x you #hyunjin x you #skz x you #valentinesdaystories

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fettuccin-e · 1 year ago

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Honey-Sweet

Description: You're far too sweet for him. He's determined not to ruin you, despite the fact that he seems to ruin everything, and everything about you just seems to make his fantasies worse. But one night can change everything, apparently, when Miguel finally sees how completely not sweet you can be.

Tags: Miguel O'Hara x Reader, afab!fem!reader, hoooh boy a lotta smut okay, oral (m and f recieving), unprotected piv (pls oh pls wrap it up irl fuck them kids), riding, doggy, missionary, some fluff bc i'm not completely deranged, light degradation (w/c: 2.1K)

A/N: oh lord the Miguel brainrot is REAL folks okay this is fucking crazy. I WANT THIS MAN TO **** ** **** * ****** ******* okay he has me fuckin frothing at the DAMN MOUTH actin like a DAMN DOG okay so please enjoy a bit of a miguel smutfest

You’re too fucking sweet for him. That’s what he tells himself. Miguel O’Hara doesn’t do sweet.

You’re fucking sweet with the way you bring cookies in for the other Spiders that accompany you on missions. You’re sweet in how you brought in a ridiculous hand-made baby blanket for Mayday when Peter first brought her in, emblazoned with his Spider-Man logo to wrap her up tight in. You’d kissed the baby on the head, whispering tiny sweet nothings into her bright red hair, and Miguel had had to hide the emergence of his fangs at the sight of it.

You’re too sweet, too kind for him. You organize little movie nights at the office, you make him stay a little longer on missions so you can see the tourist spots from different universes. And the way you look at him, all wide-eyed and bright and smiling… it does things to him.

It makes him want to bring you flowers, kiss you on the cheek. It makes him want to plan fucking candle-lit dinners and bake cupcakes with you. All sweet, too sweet.

But, because he apparently can’t stop himself, you also want to make him do decidedly not sweet things. Like grab at your tits through your suit, pinching your nipples until your knees go weak and you whimper his name in your gorgeous little voice. Like force you down on your knees, fucking his cock into your hot mouth while tears leak down your cheeks. Like tying you up with his webs, eating your pretty cunt out while you struggle against them, whining that “it’s too much, too much Miguel.” Like fucking you deep, so fucking deep on his cock, making you squeeze around him while you scream for him, beg for him to fill you up with cum. He thinks about watching it leak out of your achy pussy, dripping down your thighs.

But you’re so goddamn sweet, too gorgeous and lovely, and he can’t ruin you, he can’t.

So when you finally wear him down, finally get him to go to coffee with you, he tries to be just as sweet as you. You hold his fucking hand, you kiss him on the cheek. You smile into his mouth as his lips meet yours in front of your apartment door. Miguel swears that his heart will pop with how much it swells when you’re near him.

He brings you flowers, walks you to your door, brings you lunch while you’re filing post-mission paperwork. And God, it’s beautiful. It’s fantastic and bright and so wonderfully domestic that Miguel wonders if he’s died, gone to some heaven he doesn’t deserve. He’s determined to revel in the domesticity of this… thing he’s created with you, his disgusting fantasies be damned.

He doesn’t like to think about how he has to fuck his hand after he drops you off at your house, his lips still burning with the touch of your soft, soft kiss. He thinks about how your lips would look stretched around his dick.

He’s content. He’s happy. For the first time in so fucking long, he’s happy. And he’ll happily tug on his dick by himself for the rest of damn time if it means that he gets to revel in your soft, pretty, wonderful sweetness for a little bit longer. He will not ruin you.

But.

As he kisses you softly in front of your apartment, the both of you still suited up from your latest mission, you tug him closer. You pull him down into your hungry mouth, and you lick into him like you’re starving for it. He can’t help how he growls at the feeling of it, his big hands coming to clutch at your hips. God, you’re pretty, fucking addicting with the way your tongue tangles with his and how you whimper when his hands cup your ass, tugging you up just that extra inch.

“Take me to bed, Miguel,” you gasp between feverish kisses, and fuck, he’s gone.

He hauls you into his arms, and his knees almost go weak at the way you wrap your thighs tightly around his middle, the way you lick into his mouth all over again.

And Miguel has spent so much time in his head, thinking, no, knowing that you’re sweeter than goddamn pie. It’s in every fucking breath you take, every moment he spends with you.

But that night, as he lays you onto the bed, gently, gently like you deserve, he learns that you’re not as sweet as he thinks you are.

Not at all.

Not with the way you roll him over with your strength, begging for him to disengage his suit, looking at him like you want to devour him as it dissolves around him, leaving him bare to your gaze. You graze a reverent hand up his chest as he heaves under you, whispering, “God, can’t believe I’ve waited this long to have you like this. You’re so pretty, Miguel.”

Pretty. Pretty? He can’t be the pretty one, no, not when you’re unzipping your own suit, and he can see everything. Every inch of supple, soft skin. Your nipples, hard and peaked and begging for his touch. Your pretty, pretty pussy; he can see how you’re practically dripping, the wetness between your legs glistening in the soft lamplight.

And you’re not sweet, not sweet at all, when you nip and suck little marks down his chest and abs, grinning up at him like a damn siren when he gasps at your touch. Fuck, you’re the opposite of everything he thought when you take his cock into your mouth, bobbing deeper, deeper until you just can’t anymore, jacking the rest of his cock while you kiss and lick and suck at him.

You grab his hand with your free one, and pull it into your hair. You pull up from his cock, and Christ, there’s a line of your spit that connects you to his throbbing tip, and Miguel thinks that he might die.

“Fuck my face, baby?” you rasp, and yes, that’s it, Miguel is going to fucking die here. But he can’t refuse you, with those gorgeous eyes gazing up at him, the tip of his cock on your tongue.

It’s not sweet, not at all, when he forces your head down on his cock, pressing himself deep into your pretty little mouth. And you moan like you love it, just taking it as he thrusts roughly into your mouth. Your spit runs down his shaft, your little whimpers and the way you choke when the tip jams into the back of your throat all echoing in his ears.

He can’t hear himself, but God, you can. You relish the way he growls every time he pushes you down deep, telling you that, “You’re such a good girl, hermosa. Mierda, mi nena perfecta.” Your pussy throbs.

He isn’t soft, isn’t gentle like he told himself to be when he pulls you off his cock. You gasp for air, and Miguel groans as he pulls you up by your hair, dragging your spit-slick lips to his mouth. He can taste himself on your lips, all sticky and hot and puffy.

You whine against his mouth, murmuring little pleas of “fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” into him, and his cock twitches, red and aching desperately for your touch.

“Have to make sure you’re ready,” he mumbles, even though he aches, even though his claws threaten to show.

“Nononono,” you whine, and then you sit back, hovering over his cock, fucking monstrous compared to the tiny opening of your dripping pussy, and press down.

Fuck, it’s like heaven inside you, all perfect and wet and hot, and you whine, muttering that, “It’s so fucking big, God, stretches me so perfect, so fucking perfect, so much bigger than I could have dreamed-“

“Nena,” he interrupts you with a hoarse groan of his own, “gotta stop, ‘s gonna, gonna hurt you, oh fuck-“

And you grin at him again, filthy and raunchy and not sweet at all, as you say “I fucking want it to hurt, Miguel. Wanna feel you in the morning, wanna feel you all the time.” And you press yourself the rest of the way down his thick cock, gasping for air, your hips twitching like they can’t decide whether to run away from the sensation or seek it.

“Fuck, wanna feel you all the time,” you murmur and Miguel can’t decide whether you’re actually talking to him or not. “Want you to fuck me so hard I can’t breathe, fill me up so fucking perfect, God, oh my God, ‘m so fucking full,” you roll your hips forward in desperate little circles, a weak attempt at getting him deeper. An endless stream of “fuck me, fuck me, please please please,” starts to leave your lips again, and you sound so desperate, so needy, that Miguel can’t help but roll you over, pinning you underneath him, and fucking his cock so hard and so deep into you that you dig your fingers into his back and sob.

He does what you ask that night. He fucks you and fucks you and fucks you, until tears leak from your eyes and your bed is soaked with a mixture of yours and his cum. And God, you scream for him, begging him for more, deeper, harder.

The slick sounds of your bodies meeting over and over must be heard all over the building, but Miguel can’t bring himself to care, not when he’s able to fuck you like this, disgusting and filthy.

How could a sweet, lovely, soft thing like you love this so much?

From that night on, it seems that all bets are off. From that night on, it seems that you make it a mission to show him exactly how not sweet you are.

Fuck, there’s no sweetness to you when you hump your hips into his face the next morning, practically smothering him in your pussy as you squeal and tangle your fingers in his hair. He digs his fingers so hard into your thighs that he’s sure they’ll bruise, and licks up your juices. Your pussy is honey-sweet on his tongue.

You’re not soft when you ride him into the mattress, throwing yourself down onto his cock and moaning as you stretch yourself out. You drag your nails down his chest as you bounce desperately in his lap, and Miguel kind of hopes you draw blood.

There isn’t an ounce of innocence when you sink down on your knees under his desk when he’s in a goddamn meeting, pulling his cock out and sucking at him until his claws shoot out and leave splintering holes in his desk. He has to hide his fangs from the video camera when you choke.

When he finally, finally cuts the meeting short, feeding the other Spider-Men some bullshit excuse about a new anomaly, he presses your head to the base of his cock and shoots his cum down your throat. He means it as a punishment, but when he pulls you off his cock, and sees you with your eyes all glassy and smiling lazily, he can’t help but bend you over the desk and finger fuck you until you cry and scream and beg for him to fuck you with his cock.

You are so far from sweet when he fucks you on the floor after a mission, tensions run too taut and adrenaline racing through your veins. You throw your ass back onto him with every thrust into your sloppy cunt, moaning as he growls, “Such a fucking slut, can’t get enough of this cock, huh? My sweet, sweet girl, what would the rest of the Spiders say if they knew what a fucking whore you are for me?”

And when you choke on your spit around your screams, he leans down to whisper that, “I know, cariño, I know. I'm gonna take care of you,” before he shoves your face down into the carpet and mounts you, shoving his fat cock down into you again and again and again.

Miguel is positive that he’s died and gone to heaven.

It’s not to say that you’re not the same, sweet girl who brings cookies to the office and holds his hand. No, you’re the same, perfect, sweet girl, only that you let him thank you for the cookies by eating you out on the kitchen floor. You hold his hand while you jerk his cock and swallow his moans with your kiss.

You’re just the right kind of sweet for him.

#yeah so #i wrote this in a TRANCE #want this man to throw me around like a ragdoll #can you tell that im ovulating #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you #across the spiderverse fic #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x reader

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hoshigray · 9 months ago

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𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐝 | satoru gojō

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Is it possible to wish to be in the embrace of someone who makes you want to throw them off a cliff? You seem to think so, and the same goes for Gojo. But alas, good things always come to an end, even when not meant to be...

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern + college AU - frenemies to lovers + mutual pining - Gojo and reader are at least age 20 - implied fwb relationship - catching/awakening feelings - oral (m! receiving) - ball massaging + sucking - sex in a shared room; college dorms (alone) - cowgirl position on a chair - breast fondling + sucking + nipple play - protected sex (psa: wrap it up, or get tf up) - pet names (baby, cutie, pretty, princess) - heavy depiction of a blowjob - cameos: Haibara and Ijichi - fluff + angst; misunderstandings - humor bc i'm [not] funny.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.6k

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: second part, let's goooo!! i loved ur support and comments from the first story, so hope y'all are excited for this part :DDD and ty so so so MUCH for 5.5k like??? i kiss you on cheek, every single on of you, hehehe~

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“If you’re not gonna help, then leave my dorm!”

“Ehhhh, hell no! It’s cold as fuck outside; you want me to freeze to death?”

“They’re…still going at it.”

“Yeah…give it a minute, and we’ll just go to the library without them?”

It’s coming down to the last week of January; university students are finally settling in with their new schedules and getting used to the groove of the spring semester. Or some run around trying to keep up with the new semesters and the change of weather already getting on people’s nerves, wanting nothing more than spring to come quickly.

Three weeks in, and you already have stuff to do, one of them being an argumentative presentation assigned by Professor Yaga in your Contemporary Issues class. You and three other people are tasked to find sources for a topic issue you find interesting and then present a discussion-based presentation on two sides of the topic (two people in favor and two people against).

Unfortunately, the groups were to be randomly assigned. Luckily, two friends you knew in the class, Haibara and Ijichi, were picked to work alongside you! However, the bad part was that another person you knew was assigned to work with you, and he happens to be the guy getting on your last nerves right now, sitting on your couch while clicking through the television channels with the remote.

Your roommates weren’t home today. The club fair was occurring at the quad, so Mei Mei and Utahime had to go out and represent their clubs for the afternoon. Shoko is having an intense study session with Geto for an exam on the first of February, so they’re at the library now.

That leaves you alone at your dorm, using this as a perfect opportunity to invite your group over to work on the project.

“You can freeze your nuts off and become the next Jack Frost for all I care; if you’re not going to do your part of the work, get out!”

Well, minus you yelling at your partner, who clicks his teeth before turning to you. His round sunglasses shone from the light reflected from the living room windows.

Satoru Gojo was your number one nemesis within these campus grounds; this was a known fact to everyone, especially the other group members who nervously examined you two bicker. Being in the same space as him is enough to make you wish you could pull your hair out or put him in the nastiest headlock you could do. Worse, being assigned to the same group as him for your project almost made you want to rip your ears off.

But you had to suck it up; at least you were the first group to start a presentation. Better now than worry about it later, right?

“Pssh, fine, I’ll get up and—Oh! Wait, you guys have Digimon on Hulu? Ahhh, sick!”

Nevertheless, you can’t say that when your supposed partner acts like a child glued to your TV screen instead of doing the work he promised to do. You grit your teeth with a twitching brow, “Why you…”

Across from the common area was the kitchen, where Haibara and Ijichi sat at the dining table. The two sophomores could do nothing but feel the tension between you and Gojo grow with every passing second, suffocating the younger duo. Haibara eyes Ijichi from across the table and whispers, “Wanna make a run for it now?”

The black-haired second-year didn’t reply, only a hurried nod before the two grabbed their coats and stuffed their laptops back into their backpacks. The sound of their zippers alerts your ears, turning to them to question, “Huh? Where are you two going?”

Haibara takes it upon himself to deliver a half-lie as he zips up his jacket. “On second thought, Ijichi and I are thinking of taking the shuttle to the library to work instead.”

Huh? The library? Were they leaving because of the belligerence between you and Gojo? God, you hoped not. “Wait, you guys don’t have to do that. I already made you guys walk all this way here; it’d be rough to have you leave for somewhere else…”

Ijichi comes with the assist after putting the sling of his messenger bag around his shoulder. “It’s okay, Y/n. We found material from the library we could use as sources, so we’re heading up there to take some notes while they’re there.”

“Yup!” Haibara exclaims in agreement, and the two walk past you to put on their shoes by the front door. “Maybe you guys can find sources of your own while we’re gone, and then we can converse and share what we found when we come back. Sounds good?”

“I suppose so…” you couldn’t shake the feeling that they were leaving to avoid being in the same room as you and Gojo. The guilt is hard to endure since you didn’t mean to make the younger boys uncomfortable. “See you guys, then.”

“Cya!” And with that, the door closes on their way out, leaving you and Gojo alone in your apartment.

Well, this is just great; you’ve driven your group members and friends away and are now stuck with the nuisance of a partner who still keeps his attention on the television. It takes everything in your power not to pop a vein. But with one calm breath, you steady yourself and stand tall.

You walk in front of the TV, blocking it from Gojo’s view. The white-haired boy throws his hands up in exasperation, but you couldn’t care less. “What’s the big idea?” He questions you as if he has a right to at this moment.

You cross your arms across your chest with narrow eyes. “Haibara and Ijichi just left.”

“Uhh, yeah, I heard the door,” he maneuvers his body to try and see the children’s show blocked by your figure. “Doesn’t have to do with me—“

“It does have to do with you.” You interrupt him, taking two steps and bending to stare him down. Your face is a foot away from his. “You’re supposed to be here to work with Haibara on the ’no’ part of the argument while me and Ijichi do our part. You’ve only been here for thirty minutes, and the only thing you’ve done successfully is take off your shoes at the door and read your manga books on the couch.

Gojo chuckles – oh, how you hated his laugh – as he puts his hands behind his head, spreading his long legs from their crossed form. “You heard them, no? They’re going to research on their own and then come back. Besides, you know I’m not one to start stuff right away. I’m a procrastinator, remember?”

“You’re annoying; that’s what you are.” You straighten up with a heavy sigh. God, I wish Utahime and Shoko were here. They’d help me out with this white garbage…

“Ahhh, lighten up, Y/n. It’s not like the presentation is on Monday; we got until Friday to come up with everything.”

“Yeah, I’m aware of that, smartass. And you’re right: I do know you. And I know you tend to do things at the last fucking minute. But not this time!” You watch him try to put his feet up on the coffee table, and you quickly intervene by kicking them off.

“Tch. Look, you knew what you were getting into being partnered with me. And relax; those two said they’ll be back to discuss the material later. They already left – nothing I can do about it.”

Your hands rest at your hips, tapping your foot with visible frustration. “Oh? And I wonder why they left in the first place, Gojo. Mind telling me how?”

He quirks up a brow with a smug grin — a telling sign that you’d get ticked off with whatever he’s about to say. “I don’t know, Y/n. Why not ask the nagging control freak talking to me right now, huh? Maybe their short height and angry temper are affecting the mood of those around them to be miserable like them.”

You almost did it — your hands nearly gave into your intrusive thoughts and were about to lunge at the snow-haired guy’s neck to wring around like a rag doll. But you played it off with a clap, rubbing the palms together to distract your temporary violent thoughts.

You sucked your teeth and turned on your heel. “Forget it. I’m gonna go take a nap.”

He scoffs, “Good, maybe your tiny brain needs it to calm down.”

“Choke and die, Gojo!” You say down the hall, already at the door of your shared bedroom. Before slamming the door shut, Gojo’s patronizing laughter can be heard to your dismay. With gritted teeth, you march to your bed to throw yourself on the mattress.

“Ughhh. That Satoru Gojo,” you curse his name under your breath as if he’d hear you through the walls. “So unserious…”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

To be quite honest with himself, Gojo doesn’t necessarily hate you.

The white-haired boy lies on his side on Utahime’s bed, watching you nap. He did knock on the door – believe him, he did. He even gave you the good old ten-second rule, waiting for your response. But then you didn’t, which gave him the initiative to waltz in and see you in your slumber.

You slept so peacefully; your face at peace, and your faint snores were the only things his ears picked up on. It was as if your little nagging show from earlier was hard to comprehend when seeing your tranquil state in front of him. It used to be rare to see you like this. Keywords: used to be.

For the past two to three weeks, your relationship with Gojo has become more…intimate. Ever since he took your first kiss and drew your virgin curtains, the two of you have gotten a little closer than before — both platonically and physically. Something that Gojo never thought he’d experience with you, his tiny, cute frenemy.

Gojo has known you since freshman year; you were two in the same enrichment group to prepare you to transition into college life. Personally, he wasn’t much for the program; he found it a waste of time, a mandatory prerequisite that he felt he didn’t need. He’s all about experience, wanting nothing more than to get on with his day, go to classes, hang with friends, and repeat.

“Hello, my name is Y/n. It’s nice to meet you all!”

And then came you, the person sitting across from him at the round table your group would always meet at. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enamored by you the second he saw you. Gojo rarely finds someone who could easily pull his eyes to them — not saying the girls who’d usually crowd and admire him weren’t pretty. There was something about you that kept him wanting to know more – to engage more – about you.

One thing he knew from you was that you carried your character with pride. Your achievements, your personality, your kindness, and your mannerisms — all of which were displayed elegantly and were a breath of fresh air to look at. You stood out to him more than all the other kids in the group, his eyes always finding a way to steer from the professor’s advice to your alluring, listening face.

Another thing Gojo liked about you was that you weren’t afraid to stand your ground, especially when discussing with your peers or him. Sure, you were always respectful and would respect other people’s arguments. But, God, the way you said things so constructed and nuanced, it had the tall other glued to you whenever you spoke.

He’s not going to lie; he’ll admit that he’d try to tick you off and get you to get a little angry with him when it came to arguing. He couldn’t help it. He just liked the thought of you layering out of your poised appearance to the point you’d glare at him whenever you saw him in the halls. And it had him giddy knowing he’s the one that made you angry because you looked cute.

And that was the other thing he really liked about you. The more you two interacted, argued, hung out with his friends, or attended classes together, the more Gojo’s fascination for you turned into that of a school-boy crush. He wouldn’t admit to anyone of this (minus Geto and Shoko if his life depended on it) because it certainly wasn’t something to be known. He was okay with what you two had right now, being the friend who loves to push your buttons to see you nag at him.

That was until you two started sleeping together. Because holy fuck, the past weeks you two have been sneaking time to have each other’s bodies close made Gojo’s mind go crazy. So fucking crazy like the feeling of you on him is borderline addicting. Your whiny cries calling out to him when he scrapes your sweet spots, your nails scrape on his chest, your half-lidded eyes when you look at him, or how you whisper his name only for him to hear.

This was the kind of relationship you two brewed, a secret thing only between you two. And Gojo was satisfied keeping it like this because it was what you wanted. No need to flaunt it around; it was no one’s business. Besides, he likes having you to himself, seeing a side of you that only he could imagine and experience.

The sensations of your body under his touch, the various tunes of your voice, and the beauty exhibited in your gaze. It was all addicting. You were addicting.

“Who told you to lie on my roommate’s bed? You know she’ll kill you if she ever saw you.”

It was so addicting that he didn’t even notice you awake until you spoke to him, the erotic memories of you clouding his brain dissipating at the indication of your voice. He smirks, “Oh, I’ll be fine; not like she can hurt me with her tiny self.”

You’re too groggy to roll your eyes, sighing as you turn to your side to face him from across the room. “How long was I out for?”

“Almost an hour,” he replies, switching to sit criss-cross on Utahime’s bed. “I got bored watching TV and knocked.”

“How long have you been in here?”

“Maybe twenty minutes?”

“Just watching me sleep?”

“Yeah.”

You let out a scoff, shaking your head. “Weirdo.”

He snickers at you for recognizing his silliness. “Whaaat? There’s not much to do aside from looking at you. I got bored of the TV.”

“What about your manga?”

“Got bored of that, too.”

“Anyone on your socials that you’d wanna talk to? Girls? Friends? Your teammates?”

“Mmm, nah, none I’d wanna talk to right now.”

Your brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Hmm?”

“What do you mean ‘right now’? You make it seem like I’m keeping you from interacting with your outside life. If you’re bored, talk with whoever you want. Maybe bother Geto…No, nevermind, he’d probably be annoyed since he’s studying.”

Gojo examines you, silently removing himself from your roommate’s bed and treading towards yours. He takes off his sunglasses and places them on top of your dresser before sitting on his knees on the floor. He rests his hands and chin on the edge of your bed, his sky-blue eyes locked in with yours. God, you were so beautiful to look at.

“I meant that I don’t want to talk to anybody.” Now that he’s closer to you, his voice dials to a whisper. “Not when I got you here to myself.”

He notices your brows drawing upward at the sentence. “To yourself?”

“Mhmm,” he hums, bringing a forefinger to trace your brow. A sensual touch not to startle you. “Just you and me.”

You give him a look as if you think he’s trying to pull something. “Don’t tell me you were making me mad at you earlier just so Haibara and Ijichi could leave, and I’d be stuck with you.”

His smile broadens with every word, his dimples out to see. “No, although I hate that I didn’t think of that myself.” His hand goes to your cheek for his thumb to stroke gently. “Would it have been a bad thing if I did?”

You don’t reply, only placing your hand on his. Your eyes are still on his blue orbs, and – you don’t know this because Gojo has the perfect view of you – the light from the window made them shine charmingly as it highlighted your face.

“No…I don’t think so,” you murmur, gaze gradually venturing down to his lips. “I like being around you…Satoru.”

He heard his name leave your lips, an invitation to what he wants to do, his eyes fixated on your lips before closing them and drawing in closer. “Me too…”

The kiss was soft and gentle like he always starts with, waiting for you to give him the okay to kiss you again. And when you meekly lick his bottom lip, he gives in to your request and claims your lips again.

Your moans were so sweet to his ears — his favorite thing to hear — especially when he becomes a little devilish and sucks on your tongue to make you whimper a little louder, turning him on even more. It serves as the perfect distraction for him to snake a hand into your shirt, his hand already making itself home and cupping your breast in your bra.

You break the kiss with a gasp, and massages to your mound make your breath shaky. “Mmmah…you sneaky pervert,” you name-call him sweetly.

“Can’t blame me; I just know that you like to have your tits played with.” Gojo sneers, tweaking your nipple to hear you gasp again. “Hey, remember you said you’d suck me off next time?”

“Huh?” The question threw you off before you could fall deeper into a euphoric haze.

“Don’t ‘huh’ me, you promised!” He whines to you like a hurt puppy. “After I ate you out for twenty minutes straight last time, can I just have your mouth on my dick once?”

“I never told you to eat me out for twenty minutes!”

“You crying and telling me not to stop said otherwise!” He stands his argument, even if you warn him with a glare. “Just suck it, please. I haven’t felt your mouth in a while.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. You didn’t expect to deal with his childish tendencies, but it is Gojo we’re talking about. You sigh, “…Fine, Satoru.” And then the white-headed boy beamed at the confirmation, immediately standing up and heading to your desk. It was an abrupt change of pace for a second until he brought your desk chair out.

With glee, Gojo flings his jeans and boxers with ease, his half-hard cock out for you to see. He sits on your chair with spread legs, “I’m ready~.”

You roll your eyes, yet the smile on your face sneaks without you knowing while leaving your bed and crouching between his legs. “You’re such a big baby sometimes…”

Your hand finds its way to the body of his dick, gliding it up and down to feel the veins under your palm and fingertips. Gojo hums to your cold fingers, hitching his breath when you tease him with a blow of air.

Your free hand comes to his balls, massaging his testicles in a way that has his leg jerk. He tries to fight it, but the squirm on his legs says otherwise. “Hahhh, fuck…quit it…”

“Hmm? What, you don’t like it when I tease you?” You peer up at him with a smug grin before using your tongue to lick on the glans slowly, and he covers his mouth before a gasp comes out after lapping on his frenulum. “But when you do it to me, it’s not a problem, huh?”

“Mmmph, shiit, Y/n—Ohhh…!” Another jolt of the hips after you lick and kiss one of his balls, teasing the skin with a kiss and tiny chews that would have him choke on his breath. “Jesus, fuck! Y/n, baby, you’re driving me crazy….Aishhh!!

“Oh, really?” God, you were such a fucking tease. But he fucking loved that so much. “What should I do?” You ask him before sucking on his balls again, and a hand comes to your shoulder to grip.

“Mmmm…Blow me off, princess,” shivers crawl up his spine as you place kisses from the base of his cock towards the tip. “Please, I wanna feel you…”

You giggle at his reply, finally taking in his cockhead to your pretty lips and sighing through your nose as you hollow your cheeks to take in more of him.

Gojo sighs at your licks and sucks on his girth, his erection becoming accommodated to your oral cavity wonderfully. You unhurriedly prompt yourself to take in more of him until your lips reach his pubes, your throat now full of him, and the warmness of your gummy walls makes him squirm more.

Bobbing your head at a moderate pace, you suck him off to that of a pleasurable cadence. You still use your hands to stroke him, Gojo melting to your touch even more. He throws his head back when you attack his tip again with the onslaught of licks and laps, the hand on his balls roughly kneading them jerks him to moan aloud.

Fuck, it feels so fucking good having you suck him off like this. How your tongue moved up and down on him was so dangerous, prompting him to place a hand on your head for support. As if that would help, you don’t show him mercy when you suck him harder and faster. The noises coming from your mouth sounded so erotic and pornographic, the heat on his face brewing out more.

“—Khhmm, fuck, man, I can’t…Ahhh! Y/n, I’m gonna cum if you keep licking it like that. Stop, st—Ahhaaa!!”

But like he said before – you’re a tease (if not worse than him). You remove Gojo’s dick from your mouth and throat at once, the groan he exerts fueling the fire in your body. You stand to withdraw your shirt, bra, and panties to the ground, knowing Gojo’s watching every move. “Don’t get mad at me; I know how much you wanna cum inside.”

You pull out the condom from the pocket of your skirt, placing the rubber on his cock after removing it from the wrapper. He couldn’t help but laugh, “Seems like you’re more of a pervert than me if you had that ready while those two were here earlier.”

“Shut up,” you playfully kiss him with a sneaky bite to his bottom lip. Then, you mount and align your cunt on his dick, the glans kissing your wet labia. “Hmmm, fuck…”

“Relax, cutie,” he kisses you on the cheek while his hands fondle your breasts.

You slowly descend your slit onto him, the tip of his cock pushing into the entrance of your vagina. A couple of exhales and inhales keep you steady when inserting him into you, not letting the pain distract you from the task at hand. And the both of you moan in unison when it makes it in, your hips leisurely coming down on him until your ass rests on his thighs.

You grind on him with the roll of your hips, evoking choked intakes of air from him as a hand goes to your ass with vigor. His face to your chest while the other hand plays with one mound. His lips found a nipple to pop into his mouth to suck on.

With a slow pace, you rock your hips onto him. Your legs bent for your feet to be on his knees, the chair solid enough to withstand you bouncing on Gojo’s dick with repetition.

“Hoohhh, ohhhh, mmmm,” your hums are expressed in tunes. The curve of his cock is so fucking good, scraping your insides with precision. You couldn’t help but increase the speed just a little bit.

Gojo keeps sucking on your nipple; the grazes of his teeth and pushing the bud up to the roof of his mouth only fuels more quivers to travel down your bouncing figure. Both of his hands now under your skirt to feel the flesh of your ass under his hungry grasp. He kneads your asscheeks with every thrust to your chasm, and your shrieks get louder by the second.

“—Mmmph! Shit, shit, you feel so good, pretty,” he finally lets go of your hardened nipple, burying his face to your chest. “So fucking good for me…fuhuuuucck!

You could feel your cunt contract around him; every graze to your sensitive spots prompted your walls to grip around him. He hisses, looking up to see your expression as you ride him out. Fuck, you looked so good on top of him like this. He’ll add this position to the list of things to do again with you.

You peer down to see that Gojo is staring at you, and you quickly bring a hand to cover his eyes. “—Ahhahhn, d-don’t look at me like that! Yer soo embarrassing…!”

He only chuckles at your shy demeanor, especially during this. But he humors you, not fighting your makeshift blind for him to see you wholly. He’s seen it all already — felt it all, too. And he could never get enough.

“Ooooh, Satoruuu—Nnaaahh!” He loves how you say his name, your hand traveling to his hair to grab in tuffs. “Oh, fuck, ‘toruuu, I’m gonna cummm…!”

“—Hnngh! Yeah, baby?” Oh, he knows. The way you’re grinding to and fro on his pelvis tells him so. “Go ahead, princess. Clench on me and ride it out.”

And with that, your hips go to an erratic pace that has the both of you holding for dear life. The squeeze of your inner walls clenching on him almost makes him choke on his spit, the nails of his fingertips forming crescents on your skin. And you scream at it, slamming your ass onto him as you both climb up to orgasm.

Within seconds, it hits the both of you like a train. This had to be Gojo’s favorite part of the entire thing, experiencing having your folds clamp and flutter around him as you cry for him. It took everything in his power not to come with you because he wants to have you on him a little longer. You just felt too good to let go — too addicted to your body to be done with one round.

When the contractions subside while your slurred howls get quieter, Gojo gives you a few minutes to let your body be free from the aftershocks. He knows your body is extra sensitive now, rubbing circles on your back and placing chaste kisses on your clavicle. You hum under his lips, letting the wave of your crescendo exude out from you quietly.

However, since you wanted to be such a tease, why not be a tease back? At least, that’s what Gojo thought before he threw your cunt another snap of the hips, his cock jabbing into your delicate walls that haven’t recovered yet. A sharp cry comes from your puffy lips, the hand covering Gojo’s eyes finally freeing him to see you.

He grins with hooded azure eyes, “Sorry, cutie, but I didn’t get to finish. Wouldn’t be fair if I didn’t get to have fun of my own, right?”

You chew on your lip with trenched brows before bringing your face to his. “Don’t you get carried away like last time, Satoru.”

“No promises, princess~” he sings to your ear before humming into your lips.

As mentioned before, Gojo doesn’t hate you — he just hates that he can’t fully express liking you.

But having you on top of him like this, in his embrace, is a nice change of pace he’ll happily get used to.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Okay, everyone, class dismissed! Thank you for your time, and see you all on Friday.”

Professor Naga closes up the last class for today, and the students all get up from the seats of their elevated rows to pack up and leave. The clock is ten minutes before seven o’clock, the winter darkness already claiming the sky with a sheet of night. Students are either famished and heading to the dining hall for food, going straight to their dorms or homes, or staying behind for last-minute conversations.

Gojo was one of the latter, deciding to stay behind to chat with the group for a bit. After packing his backpack and putting on his coat, he slings from the table to jump to the row below him, where you were talking with Haibara and Ijichi.

You watch his stunt, ready to lecture, “Jesus, Gojo, what’s all that for? You could’ve just walked around.”

“Ehhhh, why would I do that? That’s so lame.” He comes and bends close to you enough to slang his arm around your shoulders.

But you click your teeth and try to maneuver away from his tall figure. “You’re lame,” you mutter under your breath.

However, Gojo’s ears perked with furrowed brows. “What did you say?”

“You heard me, you lame white furby!” You repeat yourself with a huff and the snow-haired student gawks at your brazenness.

The two of you argue again; students passing by silently exit the class, others stand and watch, and Professor Yaga can only sigh at yet another altercation between you two.

However, it quickly dissipates when Haibara laughs from his seat. “You two, there’s never a dull moment.”

You and Gojo blink at the dark brunette before removing Gojo’s hand from your shoulders. “Hmph, it’s not like it’s my fault; he’s the one who starts it.”

“Oh, what could I possibly do to make Y/n so upset with me this time?” He pushes up his sunglasses, snickering at the scowl you send him.

Ichiji, being the passive second-year he is, meekly changes the topic from the row below you three. “On some brighter news, at least we did well on the presentation.”

“That’s right!” Haibara happily agrees with the statement, leaning against the chair with his hands behind his head. “Professor Yaga seemed really pleased with our arguments; I don’t think he intervened even once. Plus, he said many good things about how we handled the topic. Nice one, team!”

The raven-haired one hums at the other’s exclamation. “I think most of it goes to how Y/n and Gojo bounced off each other’s arguments. How you two pulled up examples from the articles yet remained dignified with your viewpoints was cool to witness. I even saw some students be engaged with the conversation, many amazed with how Y/n refuted Gojo’s arguments elegantly and respectfully.”

But most of all, what the two sophomores wanted to mention was that there was no yelling. To them, the professor, and all the students of this class, you and Gojo presented your presentation without a single tone of malice, no pointless teasing, no name-calling, nothing! It was a civil conversation between two opposing sides. To everyone’s surprise — and thankful stars — today was a success.

You chuckle nervously at the praise. “Oh, come on, you two, don’t let me and Gojo take all the credit. You guys did your part. Especially you, Ichiji; you were an exceptional help for my side and finding sources I could build off from.”

Gojo, on the other hand, rolls his eyes. “Psssh, don’t butter them up like that; without us, they would’ve failed this presentation big time. No offense.” He was forced to say that when you called him by his last name and hit him with your elbow.

None taken, the two younger friends say to themselves unbeknownst to each other.

The tall one continues, “Besides, you were the one who did most of the work. I slacked off until the last minute when you whipped me into shape.” Gojo brings his hand on top of your head for a pat. The action surprised you enough to flinch a bit. “Nice work like always, Y/n.”

Were the stars aligned differently, or did Gojo just compliment you? It certainly took you aback, especially the two others who silently kept their observation to themselves.

You could only look at his complacent look for a few seconds before you realized the warmth of your cheeks became stronger. Averting your eyes, you remove his hand from your head. “Thanks, Gojo…” you express gratitude. “You weren’t so bad yourself.”

A cheeky smile, his dimples prominent to blind you. “Awww, would you two look at that? They’re complimenting me, too~” Another bump to the chest has him cackling like a child, and you shake your head with rolled eyes.

The two younger students observe the scene before Haibara forcibly stretches and yawns to catch the two’s attention. “Man, I’m so hungry; I skipped lunch to prepare for this presentation. Me and Ijichi are gonna meet up with Nanami at the dining hall. You guys wanna come?”

You instantly beam at the proposal; who are you to refuse a dinner with your friends? “Sure! I’d love to…Oh! Wait, let me use the restroom and fill my water bottle.”

You rummage through your backpack for your water bottle before exiting the classroom. The boys watch you descend from row after row, and Gojo says, “Don’t take too long; I’ll convince them to leave without you.”

“Hmph, go ahead and try! They invited me; I don’t know who told you to invite yourself.” You stick your tongue out at him before opening and closing the door behind you.

Gojo watches you with a smile still plastered on his face for a few seconds before Ijichi makes a tiny cough to catch his attention, the sunglasses-wearing junior turning to look back down to the other two. He notes the albeit cheesy-smiling faces they harbor, and he lifts a brow. “The hell are you two smiling for?”

The raven-haired sophomore squeaks at the sudden firm tone, “N–Nothing!”

“Pfft, oh come on, Kiyo; let’s not act like we didn’t see what we just saw.”

Gojo catches the nuance of Haibara’s comment. “Saw what?”

“You’re over here talking about our faces, but you’re the one who’s smiling at Y/n as they leave the door?” The brunette sophomore sends a wink to his junior, whose face doesn’t change at the comment.

“And your point is?”

“Well, it seems — to me, at least — there might be something going on with you and Y/n?”

Gojo was prepared for that, opening his mouth to interject quickly. However, the dark-haired other beat him to the punch. “Now that you mention it, Gojo and Y/n have been kind of…stable? There's still the usual arguments, but those haven't happened as much since last week…”

“Right!?” Haibara points at Ijichi with exclamation, making the other second-year flinch. “For some reason, things seem to be a little quieter with the two of them now, not to mention them hanging out way more often. Everyone’s been talking about it; even Geto and Shoko asked if Gojo had done anything that made Y/n passive?”

“I asked Nanami about it on Monday; he thinks maybe Y/n finally knocked some sense into Gojo’s childish brain to have him be so civil to engage without yelling their head off.”

“Pffthaha, I wouldn’t go that far. Y/n did just kick him in the shin yesterday for scaring them from behind.”

“Ahh, yes, well, that was deserved.”

“You two realize I’m still standing right the fuck here, right?” No, they hadn’t because the two discerned the twitch of Gojo’s brow after conversing about the tall, white-haired boy.

“But it’s true!”

Another voice enters the set, making Gojo raise his head, and the other two turn to their left. It was some girl and her friend. Gojo knew of her; she sat next to him during class. Again, he knew of her, meaning she had no significance to his knowledge.

And yet, she speaks to the three boys. “You and Y/n have gotten a lot more close these past weeks compared to previous semesters—“

“Real close, too!” Their friend adds on from behind. “It’s as if you two are like a couple.”

“So…Are you two….a thing?”

Gojo could tell from a mile away what this was. Obviously, the first girl has a thing for him — he can see the anxiousness from the twiddle of her thumbs and avoidant eye contact. Although he wasn’t interested, he couldn’t even answer the question the way he wanted. What the hell could he say: that you two are in a secret relationship? He knows you’d have his grave ready before he could finish that confession.

And he can’t say the two of you are in any relationship either; it’s not what you would’ve told them. To everyone else, you and Gojo are friends who would preferably be caught dead rather than lying in bed together. So, might as well keep that facade up.

“Not that it’s any of your business,” he starts with the push of his sunglasses. “Y/n is a pretty good friend, and I’d like to keep it at that.”

Haibara and Ijichi turn from Gojo to look at each other and shrug. Before turning back, something caught their eye that caused the two sophomores’ skin to turn white.

Ijichi tries to prevent Gojo from speaking further. “G-Gojo—“

However, the tall one doesn’t listen. “I mean, sure, they got a nice personality and are independent…Kinda pretty, too, not gonna lie. But they’re not really my type. I mean, have you seen them? Just a little person who likes to find trivial stuff to yell at me over. Angry at the world around them, I’d say.“

“Go. Jo.” Haibara says the junior’s name through gritted teeth, bringing his hand up by his neck and drawing an imaginary horizontal line back and forth — a gesture for Gojo to not say anymore. But unfortunately, the sign wasn’t seen, and the words kept pouring out.

“And to be honest, can you imagine? Me and Y/n, a couple? Jesus Christ, that would be fucking exhausting to deal with, especially with someone so boring and too uncute like them. I’ve seen prettier, been with better. I feel sorry for the poor bastard who does end up with them—“

“SATORU GOJO!”

Now — that sudden burst of yell from a loud, masculine voice — that was what got Gojo’s attention. It’s what got the attention of everyone else in the room. The snow-haired student jerks to look at the professor standing at the front, the older man with a deep frown. “What?

The professor doesn’t answer him. Instead, he points to the left of him with his chin with a huff. With common sense, Gojo turns behind him to see where the older man points. And at that moment, he felt his very being drop to the soles of his feet. Haibara and Ijichi took a slow breath in unison at the immediate tension.

Behind him stood you, a lone figure holding their water bottle within three arm’s length away from the group. But that was sufficient enough for you to have heard everything said.

Breathing suddenly felt impossible for Gojo; his entire body was stiff under your gaze. His shades could hide his eyes, but he wasn’t sure it could shield the instant shame that slapped him across the face from you.

And that was another thing: the look you harbored was indecipherable — the true definition of disengagement. There were no widened eyes, quivering lips, or shaky hands. You stood plainly and looked as though you were detached from the entire situation. And that was what scared him the most.

This was strike one.

He dared not move when you began walking up, and your eyes then shifted to ignore his presence. “Hey, Yu,” the brunette straightened his posture at the use of the first name. “I think I’ll have to decline on that dinner offer. I’m a little tired and have a paper I need to work on…Maybe next time?”

“Uhh, yeah, sure, no problem.” He answers with a sweat.

Wait a second. Gojo tries to call for you, “Y/n—“

“Ijichi,” but you immediately shut him down and directed your attention to the other sophomore friend as you put on your coat and stuffed your water bottle back into your bag. “Be sure to submit the presentation template and sources to the course site before the end of the day, please.”

“U–Uhh, already done, Y/n.” He squeaks while reassuring.

Wait, please. The tall one tries again, “Wait, Y/n—“

“Good.” You sling your backpack on, refusing to look at the person trying to talk to you. “Well, I’ll be seeing you, then.” And with that, you turn on your heel and head down the row to leave.

No, wait, stop— “Y/n, wait!” This was strike two.

Gojo doesn’t hesitate to call out to you. At that moment, he follows you to the class steps where you were a row down left from the door. He grabs your hand without thinking, the size of your palm captured by his slender fingers. He knew it was a risky move, but he had to — he had to get you to talk with him right now, if not ever. Because the latter is something he isn’t ready for, something he didn’t think would be a possibility.

And yet, he will learn this lesson of being prepared for the impossible when you rapidly turn to him. Strike three.

SLAP!

Have you ever seen someone get smacked in the face so hard that their sunglasses come off? The remaining two girls who witnessed it know for sure now. Haibara and Ijichi won’t admit to it as they immediately turn to the other side of the room when they saw your hand move. But please believe they winced at the sound of the impact. The same goes for Professor Yaga, who was too stunned to speak, yet it was a valid outcome.

Gojo didn’t move a single limb, allowing the stinging feeling on his cheek to course through his facial muscles. His eyes were glued to the carpeted ground; he knew that’s where they were supposed to be. And you snatched your hand away from his grasp, leaving his fingers to suffer in forced loneliness.

“You…you think it’s all fun and games to say stuff like that when I turn my back for a few minutes, huh?” He can see your hand palpitate from his peripheral; the anger depicted alone was enough to interpret. And the tremble in your voice? It felt like an arrow to his being. “…Look at me.”

He’d be a fool to have you repeat yourself; he has lost that right to toy with you now. With a slow inhale, Gojo rotates his head at you, azure eyes tracking up your figure to your face. And when it lands at that destination, his heart is shot down.

Tears stream down vexed, watery eyes. Your brows furrowed, and your bottom lip chewed in a terrible attempt to stop it from quivering. The rise and fall of your shoulders as you moderate your breathing, trying so hard not to let your temper dwell into a deeper phase of ugly. It was bad enough you’re crying in public, in front of your peers, your teacher — and it was because of him.

“From this day forward,” you fight your sniffles to say your statement as clearly as possible. “Don’t you ever talk to me, Satoru Gojo. Enjoy your life without something as boring as me.”

And with that, you dismiss yourself from him and the class altogether, the room silent even after the slam of the door closed. No one says anything, too shocked from the event to utter a letter.

The silence aids the ringing in Gojo’s ears, his breathing still having trouble maintaining a balanced front. The cheek you slapped burned with pain; he’s sure the skin is as red as a cherry.

Oh, fuck.

He brings a hand to his face, his body fighting the trembling. The ringing in his ears worsens, along with the pounding in his head that beats like a drum. His eyes stuck to the ground below him, choosing to focus on something inanimate and not living.

Fuck, fuck, fuck—

All he could think of in this time and place was you. Memories flashing right before him, of you and only you. He can hear the way you say his name, both in vexation and in sweet tunes. Your smiles, your frowns, your huffs, your whispers. When your eyebrows scrunch whenever you express worry for him, how you’re never afraid to stand up against him when making a point, the smile that’s been blinding him for many days and nights — the smile he wouldn’t mind seeing for eternity.

All those memories were one stab to his heart after another. And every time a recollection ended, a flash of your crying face would return to haunt him. Tears that weren’t meant to be there but were, and warm feelings you expressed with him were gone the moment he saw your eyes void of feelings for him. At least, that’s what he saw.

He hurt you. That was the only revelation that haunted him where he stood, making his voice falter from confidence. It was a revelation he never meant to bring about. And now that it exists and he sees the damage, nothing would be better for him now than the ground beneath him swallowing him whole.

“What…the fuck…”

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girltomato · 4 months ago

Text

sweet girl: the soft launch attempt

max verstappen x fem!reader

no warnings

max and his author!gf attempt to soft launch their relationship, but y/n's readers are amateur detectives and the orange army are just there for the ride.

fc: phoebe dynevor

liked by yourbff, harpercollinsuk and 30,281 more

yourusername quiet shh shh

( ♫ It's Oh So Quiet - Betty Hutton )

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yourbff missing u🤍🤍🤍 have lots of fun bb

⤷ yourusername i have so much to catch u up on🤭🤭

user1 congrats on being a nyt bestseller (again), bloodhound is insane

⤷ yourusername ty cutie💓

user3 the song... girl u aren't slick😭😭

user2 dear mystery man pls treat her like a queen she deserves it🙏🙏🙏🙏

user6 if all my books were million sellers i too would spend my free time on the beach with a hot man

liked by 12,403 people

f1gossip Eagle eyed twitter fans believe they have discovered the identity of Max Verstappen's new girlfriend.

24 year old Y/n L/n is a 3x New York Times best selling author and is shortlisted for the Booker Prize Award 2023 with her second novel Swan Song. She released her third novel, Bloodhound three weeks ago to critical acclaim.

She was spotted spending time on a yacht in St. Tropez with Max earlier this week and fans connected an Instagram post shared by the author and a story posted by Max the same day.

Max has admitted to not being a big reader, claiming to have only read four books in an interview earlier this year - two of which where L/n's novels. He began following her in 2021, she followed him back in early 2023.

Could we be seeing a new couple in the paddock soon??

Share your thoughts and opinions below.

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user27 a wag with a real job, we have entered the glory days

user82 followed since 2021🤭🤭 max verstappen u simp

user49 let's see how the wannabe wags and gold diggers react to this😭😭

⤷ user20 i know some paddock regulars just started sobbing

user63 omg i love her books i never expected this crossover

user91 i'll believe it when i see it, max has always preferred the model type

⤷ user41 girl be serious have u seen y/n??

user58 max verstappen i was not familiar with ur game

user10 she's so pretty i hope this is true

my first post on this acc hi everyone. i have a few plans for the sweet girl universe but i am incapable of writing in chronological order sooo apologies. also working on a fem!driver oc who i love with my whole heart just trying to figure out how to format it. anyways i hope u enjoy.

likes and reblogs are always appreciated <3

#ׁ ׅ ❪ sweet girl universe! ❫ ⊹ ࣪#max verstappen smau #max verstappen masterlist #max verstappen au #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fic #f1 smau #f1 masterlist #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #max verstappen imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #max verstappen fluff #formula 1 smau #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 fic #formula 1 x reader

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bunnis-monsters · 2 months ago

Note

Haven’t seen ANYONE do anything with a drider lately, miss those boys 😪

I can imagine that driders are naturally kind unlike their female counterpart, male spiders naturally being smaller n all that but what do you think? 🤨

Drider bf that’s used to being tiny compared to drider females, and is absolutely ECSTATIC when he falls for a human who is smaller than him.

I’d say he’s around 7/8 feet in height? He’s so happy to mate with his cute little human, ends up tying you up and fucking you on his cock while you’re completely restrained ><

He’s a bit nervous when female driders pass by his den, and stands in front of you protectively while tapping his spider legs against the floor anxiously. You’re HIS chubby little mate, you’re not food!

The females find this defensive display cute so they let you live, but they enjoy nipping at you to tease him and make him get all huffy and protective.

The females average about 10-12 feet tall, their spider abdomen is most of their height, but their torso is also pretty long.

Your mate is such a cuddly guy, he tries so hard to make you comfortable because he wants you to be happy, but at the end of the day you’re getting snuggled and squished against him as he mounts and mates with you~

———————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat

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iamred-iamyellow · 4 months ago

Text

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Close To You

♥ masterlist

♥ pairing: oscar piastri x lily zneimer x f!singer!webber!reader

♥ synopsis: as the daughter of mark webber you got to know oscar piastri pretty quick and soon enough the two of you were dating. no one had known that you both were also dating lily, leading everyone to believe the leaked pictures of her and Oscar was evidence he was cheating on you. they couldn’t have been more wrong

♥ smau - fc: gracie abrams - none of the pictures are mine

♥ warnings: swearing and hate comments !!!

♥ a/n: my first poly fic! ty to bestie liz and cleo for hyping me up <3

liked by aussiegrit, oliviarodrigo, taylorswift and 656,305 more

y/n.webber channel that sad energy into a song queen

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user8 hope you're doing well 💛

user3 ilyy

user6 pls shes so unserious 😭

user5 that's so real

user9 wait so did her and her boyfriend break up?

user2 I'm pretty sure. everyone's been speculating it and they haven't been seen together in a long time

user1 is she making a new album ???

user10 liv and tay in the likess 🫶

user7 I still can't believe she's mark's daughter omggg

user12 those family genetics 😍

user2 we love you <3

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by oscarpiastri, oliviarodrigo, and 583,694 more

y/n.webber cut my hair in the way that i've wanted

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user9 change my number and bury my wallet !!!

user8 augusta <3

user12 LOVE

mclarenf1 we'll see you at the GP

y/n.webber <3

user10 shut up y/n is gonna be there?

user6 I thought she had a concert that day?

user1 @/user6 she has one the night before :)

user5 no bc how is she so pretty

user13 oscar in the likes 👀

user7 GORGEOUS

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by y/n.webber, user7, user12 and 502,669 more

f1gossip mark, y/n, and oscar are ready for the australian grand prix

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y/n.webber @/aussiegrit I'm starting to think you like Oscar more than me :(

oscarpiastri he does ❤️

yourusername 🖕

user8 now kiss

user14 enemies to lovers

user4 my favorite australian trio

user1 why'd he have to shave his beard 😔

user9 THE CAT

user2 oscar and mark pookie off

user10 everyone pray for an oscar home race podium

user3 🕯️oscar home race win 🕯️

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by oscarpiastri, aussiegrit, and 703,562 more

y/n.webber date night <3

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user7 I love how she doesn't even have to tell us she's dating oscar because we all just know

user9 THEM WATCHING TANGLED 😭🫶

user3 oscar getting her lilies :')

y/n.webber actually I got him lilies

oscarpiastri 🧡

*liked by original poster*

user4 this is the cutest shit I've ever seen

user1 mark in the likesss looks like oscar has the stamp of approval

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by y/n.webber, aussiegrit, and 750,683 more

oscarpiastri lando crashed our date

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landonorris I did not "crash" your date I just happened to be there.

oscarpiastri as if you didn't follow us

y/n.webber @/landonorris you LITERALLY crashed into the back of my kart

mclarenf1 lando we talked about your internet stalking problem.

user8 PLEASE 💀

user6 why'd they have to call him out like that 😭

user2 the admins are my favorite part of the f1 cinematic universe

-A Few Months Later-

liked by aarondessner, taylorswift, and 984,059 more

y/n.webber The Secret Of Us is out now! The songs on this album are a collection of my life these past few months and I’m so excited to share them with you all. Special thank you to @/aarondessner and @/taylorswift I love you both 💛

view comments

user1 I hope she rips oscar to shreds

user7 y/n better than revenge era

user9 !!!

user3 girl you can do so much better than o***r

user12 I'm so ready to scream and cry to this

user2 I cannot believe he cheated on her

user16 out of all the guys on the grid OSCAR?!?!

user11 kitten I'll be honest I'm still not over good riddance 😔

user8 LMAO

user9 so true 😭

user15 hyped af for the taylor collab

user16 the fact that she's the daughter of mark, the man who supported him since day one and he STILL cheated on her is CRAZYY

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by taylorswift, oliviarodrigo, and 985,750 more

y/n.webber throwback to my time at last year's era's tour. I'm so glad to be back 🩷

view comments

taylorswift were so glad to have you <3

*liked by original poster*

oliviarodrigo miss youuu

yourusername I miss you too babes

user9 "and you knew my last love let me down" OSCARRRRAHHH

user7 AND I BET HES AT HER PLACE RIGHT NOW

user10 I'm so excited to see you

user16 he fumbled so hard

user4 we love you <3

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by oscarpiastri, lilyzneimer, and 1,194,203 more

y/n.webber I understand that, without my agreement, @/f1gossip put out a post a week ago that said Oscar Piastri was cheating on me. This is wrong and I am in a happy relationship with both Oscar and Lily. He did not cheat on me.

view comments

lilyzneimer I love you 🩷

y/n.webber I love you more

user7 😨

user1 I'm not even sure what to say

user12 I'm so sorry oscar we weren't familiar with your game 😭

user3 I-

user6 in true bi panic fashion

user4 FUCK 😭

user19 everyone say sorry Oscar

user2 sorry oscar

user5 we're sorry Oscar :(

user13 WE DIDN'T KNOW WE SWEAR

user10 sorry Oscar 😔

user21 💖💜💙

user23 the @ is such a boss bitch move

user8 saying sorry to Oscar online isn't enough I need to revoke my statements in a court of law

user7 same

liked by lilyzneimer, y/n.webber, alexandrasaintmleux and 884,472 more oscarpiastri flowers for my favs 💐

view comments

y/n.webber my loves 🩷

lilyzneimer 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

user7 my favorite throuple

user23 as if you weren't hating on oscar yesterday

user7 and I am deeply ashamed

user12 we said we're sorry :(

user6 yea oscar x lily x y/n are cute but wheres mark x fernando x taylor

user9 as in swift? 😭

user6 yes.

alexandrasaintmleux you three are so cute

y/n.webber <3

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sweetinsaniiity · 5 months ago

Text

Sick, Little Games

► 𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 - psycho!blackmailer!mingi x fem!reader!Y/N ◄ ► 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜/𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 - smut with plot, blackmail, gaslighting, Mingi is kind of a dom!, restraint (via rope), public sex (fingering), semi-exhibitionism, hair-pulling, reluctance, corruption kink, it becomes consensual, creampie, no protection (do NOT do this!), cum swapping/transferring, fluff, falling in love ◄ ► 𝚃𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 - MDNI, violence, mentions of rape, sexual assault ◄ ► 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 - 20K (I swear I tried to make this shorter) ◄ ► 𝚂𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 - All you wanted was to go home and relax on a Friday night, so you take the subway. There, you encounter a man whose character prevents you from leaving. No seriously, he literally prevents you from leaving by tying a rope on your wrists while holding the other end with his big, strong hands. The rope isn't the only thing those hands will hold tonight. ◄

► 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜 - Welp this one is a little darker, let me know if I missed a couple of tags. This is a work of fiction and is not meant to represent Ateez in real life. Join the taglist here. Title from All Time Low. BONUS CHAPTER IS UP! ◄

Home is all I ever wanted to be right now. The thought of my warm, cozy bed with me on it buried under my fluffy blanket is making me walk faster towards my destination - the subway.

I sighed in relief when I noticed there weren't many people, in fact there was literally no one at all except maybe the occasional passing of the cleaners and one man who was standing idly by the edge of the platform, I'm assuming he was also waiting for the next train.

I could feel his eyes staring me down even though I stood ten feet away from him. Maybe he was surprised to see somebody still waiting like him? Either way, when he didn't look away, I knew I had to make small talk to make things less awkward.

"It's finally the weekend now, huh?" I greeted him.

He was tall, maybe at six feet give or take, and he wore jeans partnered with a black blouse underneath a blacker cardigan that hung nicely against his toned frame.

He tilted his head at me curiously and a slow smirk creeped up on his face. "Yes, it is. What's a lady like you doing out here so late at night?"

"Oh, I have a part time job at the restaurant a couple of blocks away from here, shift ended late," I replied cheerily.

He raised a brow up. "You look awfully young to be working."

"No, well, technically I'm still in university."

"Oh? Where?"

"Seoul University, I'm in my third year."

A slight smile tilted his thick lips upward. "Interesting. I graduated there three or four years ago. How are you liking it so far?"

I glanced at nowhere in particular to give it some thought. "I suppose it's okay," I shrugged, "I only have one year left anyway."

He bit his lips and nodded slowly. "Third year's usually the time when you get sick of what you're doing and you end up hating everything."

I giggled in amusement. "Well that's an interesting way to look at it, you've been in my shoes once so I understand."

He stares at me deeper, his smirk growing wider. "Too harsh?"

"No," I shook my head. "You were just telling the truth."

"I suppose I was," he chuckled. "What's your name?"

"Ah, I'm Y/N," I said without missing a beat. "You?"

He hesitated for a couple of seconds before he replied. "Call me Min for now."

I frowned. That was odd. Your name isn't usually something you think about because it's an automatic response.

"Pretty name for a pretty lady," he coolly puts his hands in his jean pockets.

I grinned at him. "Glad I have your approval, Min. Are you always like this to people you see on the subway?"

I saw a small shiver go through him before he pursed his lips. "Maybe," he shrugged. "You never know who crosses your path one day."

Something about his tone and the way he said it made it sound like he hit the jackpot, but I ignored it. Maybe it was just in my head, I mean, I am pretty tired today.

It got silent again after that. I was finally able to stare at him a little better.

He was insanely handsome - hot, actually - he had short, dark hair that was equally messy and slicked back neatly, and it didn't help that he wore these black, thick, squared type glasses, and it made him look so charismatic.

I looked at him again when his deep voice startled me. "I don't mean to bother you, but do you have the time on you?"

A mild shiver passed through me, the good kind. His voice was deep. I cleared my throat. "Uh yeah, sure, give me a second..."

He hummed while I took a glance at my phone. I saw him eyeing the phone. "It's a quarter past 10."

He nodded in response, dragging a heavy sigh. "Getting impatient?" I asked in amusement. He scoffed softly.

"Patience is a virtue," I joked.

His sharp eyes pierce my doe-like ones, darkening significantly. "I am not known for my patience," he smirked.

I frowned at his bizarre choice of words, about to retort something profound back, but the distinct sounds of the oncoming train made me swallow my words.

"About damn time," I muttered.

"Patience is a virtue," he mocked.

He started walking towards me with slow, but long strides. He didn't break eye contact with me while doing so, and my heart started erratically breathing. The way he walked reminded me of a predator stalking its prey.

I brushed my own thoughts off, that was just absurd. I tried to calm myself by breathing in and out and by the time he reached where I was standing, the train was almost here anyway, so I just ignored him.

Suddenly, I felt him wrap his arm around my waist from behind me. I gasped loudly when his hand squeezed the fleshy part of my waist painfully.

"What the hell are you doing, Min?" I growled, turning my head around to scowl at him, but it was no use. Besides the fact that he was tall, his firm chest pushed out and prevented me from looking at him.

"Don't move," he whispered, his deep voice sending shivers down my spine, the bad kind.

He pulled me flush against him and now my back was completely touching his frontal body. It sent my body on overdrive and I thrashed this time to try to get free, but it was no use.

"I said," he put his other hand on my shoulder. "Don't move."

The train stopped, the door directly in front of us. I was petrified at this point. This man can do anything to me and none would be the wiser.

After what seemed like forever, the train finally departed and that's when I snapped out of whatever trance I was in.

"Wait, don't go!" I wailed at the moving train, but it was no use. I despaired, that was the last ride until the next day.

I heard him chuckle from behind me, I felt his chest rumbling at the sound. It all happened so fast; one second he turned me around to face him and the next thing I knew he was tying a rope around my wrists as tightly as he could.

"Should've been louder, maybe someone could have heard you," he paused, looking down on me with his sharp eyes. "Then again, I would have just covered that pretty mouth anyway."

"Wait, please don't do this," I whimpered.

"Why not?" he asked, not stopping from tying a series of complicated knots on my wrists, each tug tighter than before it, but surprisingly, it didn't hurt.

"What do you mean why not?" I couldn't help but snap at him. "You're insane!"

He didn't respond, he unfurrowed his thick brows, once he was done with the last knot. He, then, wrapped the other end of the rope with his own hand.

His face didn't give away any sort of emotion as we stared at each other with what seemed like an eternity. I grew fearful of this man, there was no way I could fight him because he was much, much bigger than me even if I tried.

I tried to back away, but there was only so much I could do because the rope would stop me and tug me back.

"Don't come any closer," I raised my hands, or rather, my fists since my wrists were bound together.

He tilted his head inquisitively, still staring at me impassively. I panicked, tugging my hands as hard as I could and wiggling my wrists to try and loosen the thick rope, but all it did was give me rug burns. He sighed, tugging the rope once, making me pause at my ministrations.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked in a small voice.

Shrugging, he tugged on the rope again, this time a little forcefully, but not enough for me to get dragged to him.

"No, wait, please," I pulled my hands harder, stronger, making his brows rise. "Please take it off, I-I'll give you money."

He smirked. "No."

"But--"

"No offense, angel, but I will probably make what you make in two weeks within a day."

"So you don't need me then," I laughed nervously. "Please, just take it off, I won't tell anybody."

Crossing his arms, he shook his head. "I'm not taking it off."

"Why?" I was scared, nervous, desperate at this point.

Min tugged the rope for real this time, I had no choice but to walk to him begrudgingly.

"Because I don't want to," he whispered. He was so close that I could smell the minty gum he was chewing on. "Come here."

He had the audacity to smile at me as he pulled me against his chest again, this time, facing him with my tied wrists between us. "Much better," he mumbled.

I narrowed my eyes on him. "Is this what you do in your spare time? Do you always have a rope on you?"

He raised a brow in amusement. "No. First time actually."

I tried to wiggle away from his vice grip. "Please don't hurt me."

"Never," he shook his head.

"So let me go," I pleaded.

I swallowed, my blood running cold against my veins. There was only one thing I could think of, then. His eyes roamed over my face, as if he knew what I was thinking.

"I'm not going to do whatever you're thinking," he sighed. "I'm not going to fuck you."

"Kind of hard not to assume you're not going to force yourself on me," I chuckled with no humour, cheeks blushing at his crudeness.

"Only if you want to," he grinned. He sighed when he saw no response on my end. "I will not hurt you so long as you don't fight me."

"Let me go then."

"No. I'm not going to repeat myself." It was a flat declaration and there was an underlying threat in his voice.

"How long are you going to take me captive then?"

"Assuming that I'll even let you go in the first place," he shrugged.

I stared at him in horror. I felt his hand on my arm, the ghost of his touch tickling me, higher and higher up until it reached my hair. He stroked my hair like a parent soothing their child.

I gasped when he slightly tugged on it, I was expecting a sting on my scalp, but nothing. He went back to stroking my hair again, then tugging it ever so slightly. I made the mistake of sighing at his touch.

"You like that?" he murmured.

I didn't respond. I felt confused like I have never been before. Not to say that I'm happy that I was a prisoner in his arms, but my body began relaxing before I knew it.

He started tracing random patterns on my back, rendering me even more confused. Strands of my hair were also tucked behind my ear. "Pretty," he murmured again. "It would be a shame if I just..."

I groaned when he tugged my hair a little harder, enough for me to look up at him, but not enough for him to pull my hair out. "Ow!"

"Stop trying to untie them," he pointed at the wrists. "It's not going to work."

I gritted my teeth aggressively. Damn it, I thought, I thought he wouldn't notice me tinkering with the rope as he played with my hair and touched my back.

My eyes widened when he slowly leaned forward, his face getting close to mine. I panicked, a short burst of adrenaline rushed through me as I pulled myself free from his grasp.

I swung my fists forward, a shocked look passed through Min's face, barely missing his face he quickly ducked down to avoid my hit. I squeaked when he grasped my wrists painfully and pushed me away rather roughly.

"Not bad," he laughed. "That would have been really bad if you actually hit me, yes?"

I ran off in a hurry, but quickly got stopped by the restriction the rope gave me. I hissed in pain, it had managed to dig into my skin a bit and leave red, angry welts on it.

Min frowned at me, his eyes softening as he stared at me trying to soothe the pain. He stood looking at me a few feet apart, his hand outstretched a bit towards my direction as if he wanted to beckon me over.

"You," I exhaled. "You stay where you're at, and stay away from me."

His lips twitched up in delight. "Or what?"

I blabbered like a fish, my mouth agape as my brain went into overdrive. What the hell is wrong with this man? I must've said that aloud, because the way he grinned at me with a look of amusement was making me nervous.

"I'm going to scream," I informed him.

He smiled. "Go ahead."

And so I did. I screamed, I yelled, I shouted, I screeched like a banshee like my life depended on it - well, technically, it does - and I did this for five minutes straight, but nothing.

I wasn't soft at it either, I was yelling. Min was leaning on a nearby wall with his arms crossed, silently watching me and letting me do my thing.

I was extremely frustrated at this point. Now that I think about it, it's extremely abnormal to have absolutely nobody around, but then, I remembered that it was a Friday night and everybody was either already resting or getting drunk out of their minds. It didn't help that the subway was also underground.

"It's just you and me, doll face," he stated, biting his bottom lip and chewing on it a bit. "Save yourself the trouble."

"You can't possibly keep me here forever," I scoffed at him.

He nodded slowly in acknowledgement. "I don't see why that's a bad idea."

"If you think I'm not going to put up a fight with you, then you're sorely mistaken," I sarcastically remarked, pausing when I felt my wrists sting again.

"I'd like to see you try," he chuckled, the sound of his raspy voice echoing all over the station. It further solidified the emptiness of the place.

I thought about my next move carefully. He doesn't want money, and to be fair, I had nothing much to offer anyway. He's calm and collected, that means he knows exactly what he is doing. He has a rope, for God's sake, what else can possibly have?

"I'd really like to go home now, I'm exhausted and I have no time for your games, Min, seriously," I pleaded, hoping to try my luck on the poor damsel distress act.

"You don't really have to do anything," he shrugged. "I'm not going to make you do what you don't want to do."

I raise my brow at him with a sarcastic lift of my tied hands. He laughed a little. "That doesn't count," he laughed, his chest rising up and down.

I scoffed loudly. "What?" I barked. "Are you for real? How deranged are you? Why are you really doing this?"

He watched me intently, staring at me directly in the eye without blinking. His sharp eyes made me so uncomfortable, like he was undressing me from where I stood just by the motion of his eyes.

His lips lift into a smirk. "Because I can."

Steam started coming out of my ears. I don't care if he kills me or does whatever he wants, I was mad. "Really? Is your birthstone crystal meth?" I sassed, rolling my eyes at him to emphasize my point.

Min raises his brows so high his thick glasses couldn't cover them, then he looks down on the floor, but not before I saw the smallest smile on his face. It was probably the most genuine one I've seen tonight. He was trying not to laugh.

"What a mouth you have, you sweet little thing," he chuckled. "How about you come closer to me right now?"

"But you said you're not going to make me do things I don't like," I frowned.

His sharp eyes narrowed, staring into my wary ones. "And I stand by that."

He pointed at my wrists with his index finger. I didn't realize he was wearing a lot of rings on his hands, but this one in particular had a nice black ring. "That looks like that hurts."

I stared down at my wrists. Indeed, they were close to being ugly and painful blisters because of how much friction I was causing them, friction I barely noticed because of the adrenaline rush and survival instinct to free myself of this damned thing.

"It does," I admitted. "Because you're letting me suffer by not letting me go."

He shook his head. "That's a strong word. I can make it better," he offered softly.

"How?"

A sly smirk makes its way on his plump lips. He pats the wall beside him, his stare not wavering a bit. "Come," he said softly.

I rolled my eyes so hard I was surprised they didn't get stuck behind my head. "Absolutely not," I snapped. "I'd rather let my wrists rot."

"You sure?"

He was waving a tube of a familiar generic ointment you'd see everywhere, the cocky twinkle in his eyes palpable. I gulped, the stinging sensation on my skin getting a bit more intense at the sight of what could be temporary relief on my end.

But alas, I chose to turn around and ignore him. I heard him sigh loudly from behind me and the distinctness of his cardigan rustling as he moved from his position.

"Seriously now," he began. When I still had my back turned on him and still completely ignoring him, he sneered. "Alright, whatever, I guess."

I peered over at him and saw him leaning back on the wall with his arms crossed again, staring me down. I hissed loudly when I accidentally angled my arm wrong, causing the rope to dig in a bit and rub against the sensitive parts of my skin.

"Fine," I scowled. I held my hand out in the air. "Toss it."

He laughed, his deep, hoarse voice booming towards me. If he wasn't such a jerk, I might have found that sexy. He grinned, taunting me by wiggling his fingers back and forth.

"No, no, no, sweetie pie," he sneered. "You're going to come here and get it from me."

The colour from my face drained. I bit my lip apprehensively, and I didn't miss the dark and dismal look in his eyes. I don't want to go to him in case he does something shady, but is it better than being restrained?

I scowled at him. Unfortunately, nothing was better than this. My legs felt like lead, heavily treading towards him. He gave me an amused look because I had to crane my head upwards just so I could look at him.

I couldn't help the blush that reddened my ears. Darn this man, he was unfairly good looking. The way he looked at me made my insides flip upside down with anticipation and I did not like it one bit.

"Well?" I asked impatiently.

"Actually," he clicked his tongue. "I don't think so."

My brain had a major explosion. I widened my eyes at him. "That deal has already sailed," he smiled, patting my nose with his finger. "My God, you're cute," he commented when I grimaced at him.

"Please, they really hurt," I whined. I wasn't lying at this point, I had sensitive skin due to eczema and the littlest irritation can lead to the worst flare ups that usually last from a couple of weeks to a month depending on how bad they get.

He stared at me with a blank expression, though it is not to be mistaken with nonchalance, no. I can tell he was already calculating in his head on what he should do next.

He puts a finger on his chin, lightly stroking his thumb over it as his scorching gaze pierced through mine. I gulped when he suddenly brought his glasses lower on the bridge of his nose as his eyes peered from above the thick glasses.

His eyes were much sharper than I thought they were when the glasses weren't obstructing them. I had this urge to fold in on myself when he studied me deeper. I have never felt this exposed in my entire life before and I was fully clothed. Warmth spread on my entire lower groin.

"Hands up," he instructed, pushing his glasses back up. I was told and he held the knots that bound me. "I'm going to untie you so I can apply the ointment."

Before I could celebrate the tiny hope he had given me, he continued. "If you try to run away," he said softly, still looking at me. "I'm going to force you back. I don't want to hurt you."

I nodded. His fingertips trace my whole arm, smirking when he noticed the goosebumps he had caused, all the way down to my wrists. My breath hitched when he blew on my blistering skin to attempt to calm the redness down.

"I know it hurts," he whispered, his tone soothing my ears with tenderness. "Hold still, yeah? I promise I'll be gentle..."

He worked on the complicated knots he had made, tugging at them until they slowly loosened. He gently and carefully lifted the rope off and caressed the sensitive skin underneath, and just like that I was untied.

Then I made a run for it.

I ran as far as my legs could carry me, and before I knew it I had ran deeper into the isolated part of the station, but I didn't care as long as I could get away from that lunatic. I'll find somewhere temporary to hide and wait until he leaves so I can---

I screamed when I felt strong arms wrap around my waist, and before I knew it, I was lifted up and hoisted over Min's left shoulder, my bottom up in the air and my legs flailing around.

"Put me down!" I cried, hitting his back with my fists angrily.

"Behave."

I shut my mouth at his clipped tone. I did, however, let out another scream in surprise when I felt his hand come down my behind harshly.

Spanking my ass was definitely the last thing I thought he'd do in this ridiculous situation. I was tempted to smack his butt back since it was literally in front me, but I decided against it.

"You're being an awfully naughty girl right now, don't you think?" I can practically hear the smirk on his voice as he walked a bit.

I was set down rather delicately, but I can't say the same when he pushed me against a nearby wall because it was rough. I whimpered when he grabbed my hands and put them up and also pressed them against the wall.

"What are you going to do to me?" I whispered.

He was so close to my face, so close that if he only leaned a bit our lips would touch. "What would you like me to do to you?" he asked, his voice huskier than normal.

"Let me go."

"Except that."

"I will report you to the authorities, someone has to find us eventually," I threatened, or at least that's how it sounded in my ear.

He tilted his head in amusement. "With what information?"

He was right. I only have a first name, but not a family name. He laughed, but his grin didn't quite reach his eyes. "You can tell them the name I gave you, if that is even my real name, then yes, by all means, sweetheart."

I mustered up the courage to speak. "So what is it, then?"

"Why do you wanna know? So you can scream it for me?"

I looked at him in disgust. "Seriously," I rolled my eyes.

He chuckled lightly. "Hands. And no running."

This time he actually applied the ointment for real on my hands. The way he spread the soothing balm all over the affected area made me sigh in relief, to which he smiled. If we weren't in the most unusually messed up situation right now, I might have swooned at how sweet he was being.

He was a wolf in sheep's clothing, however. The rope was back on my wrists, albeit looser this time.

"Are you going to tell me your real name?" I inquired as we both sat down on the filthy floor of the subway station, our backs leaning against the cool wall.

He met my eyes, the brown orbs analyzing me. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"You're insufferable."

"What are you willing to give me in return?"

I paused, genuinely thinking about it for a moment. I sighed in defeat when I couldn't think of literally anything. But his smirk told me otherwise.

"What are you doing?" I asked apprehensively at his onslaught.

My eyes widened when his fingers traced my cheeks, down to my jawline, and towards my lips. I was frozen on the spot. "You should moisturize your lips often, love," he whispered.

He pulls on my bottom lip and gently sticks his fingertips in between my lips. "Open up for me."

I put my bound hands on top of his to attempt to push him away, but he was stronger. "Are you being serious right now?" I gaped at him.

"Tick tock, the deal won't be on the table for long," he shrugged.

I glared at him. "You'll give me what I want if I do it?"

His smirk widens. "Yes."

I sighed in defeat, opening up my mouth ever so slightly, but his long, thick fingers forced them to open wider anyway. Butterflies started to form in my stomach and I looked everywhere except him. God, this felt weirdly intimate for some reason.

"Suck."

"Now hold on just a minute," I backed away, effectively swatting his hand away in annoyance. "You did not just ask me to do what I thought you did."

"But I did," he replied cockily.

"I can't believe you!" I exclaimed, incredulous at the ridiculous request.

I was so annoyed at this point and I wanted nothing but to bang my head against the concrete floor after I banged his.

"You know what to do if you want something out of me," he was tracing my lips again with his finger.

I heaved a long sigh, swallowing all the pride I had and grabbed his arm and with that, I put his index, middle, and ring finger in my mouth while I maintained eye contact with him.

He stared at me with hooded eyes, his gaze significantly darkening with every passing second. He let out a deep groan when I made slurping sounds as I lapped his fingers like it was the tastiest thing I have ever had. I swirled my tongue all over his fingers and even gave his palm a lick.

His Adam's apple bobbed up and down repeatedly, especially when I bit his fingers softly. I alternated between that, licking, and as well as sucking. I was definitely being filthy with it, and it was absolutely humiliating to do whatever this was.

His other hand pushes my head off gently and he withdraws his fingers from my mouth. He sighed sensually when my drool dripped down from his fingers to all over his hand.

"Here," his voice was thick. I froze when he traced my lips again, but this time, he coated them with my own saliva. "Now they're not dry anymore," he smirked.

He didn't stop there. I stopped breathing when he put the very same fingers in his own mouth. He chuckled at my dumbfounded expression.

The desire that flashed through his eyes took me aback a little when I realized I was trying to discern his taste by smacking my mouth obnoxiously. I blushed, I wasn't doing it on purpose, he had this salty, sensual taste to him that took my breath away.

"So, uhm, what is it?" I questioned, not missing the tremor my voice now held.

"Oh. It's Song."

I waited a couple of seconds for him to continue, but when I realized that he wasn't going to, my patience thinned significantly. "That's it?" I hissed. "Song what?"

"That wasn't part of the deal, you have to be specific next time," he shrugged with his eyes closed, but I can see a ghost of a smile on his lips.

"Ugh! Have you no shame?!"

He slowly opened his eyes, staring at me intently, then leaned a little closer to my face. "If I did," he whispered, his voice dropping an octave lower. "You wouldn't be here right now."

I instinctively leaned away from him. "At least you're aware ," I mumbled.

It must be closer to midnight now, I can feel it, we've been at this ridiculous game of cat and mouse for a while now. I sighed deeply while I pictured my cat, King, waiting for me home. It's a good thing I overfilled his water and snack bowl today, I just had a gut feeling. Unfortunately, I was correct.

"Penny for your thoughts, water lily?" he asked all of a sudden.

I scoffed, not even bothering to look at him. "None of your damn business," I spat.

"That's too bad," he chuckled. "I was hoping to barter an exchange with you again."

That made my ears perk up and my eyes twinkle, but I wasn't buying it. He's cunning, sly, and manipulative. There was no way in hell I was trusting anything he said at this point.

A certain slashing sound sliced through the air and in my peripheral vision, I saw Min holding something in his hand and twirling it around like it was a toy.

I whipped my head back towards him in curiosity and his smirk grew wider at the small gasp I let out.

"Change your mind yet?" he questioned with a beam.

There was a softness to his appearance in conjunction to his rugged features. Truth be told, he was probably the most attractive man I have ever seen in my life and I don't think I will ever find another one that will come close.

I scoffed. "Not only do you have a rope, but you also have a pocket knife on you like it's the most normal thing in the entire world."

I groaned, swinging my head back and the back of it against the wall in frustration. "What the hell is happening to me lately," I cursed.

I felt something soft instead of the hard wall when I leaned back again.

"What can I say? Having both is part of my work," he muttered, his hand sandwiched between my head and the wall. "Stop before you hurt yourself."

"Work? Well, what are you? A mobster?" I blurted out before I could stop myself.

He blinked at me a couple of times before he burst out laughing. He was actually laughing, and my heart jumped at the pleasant sound. I stared at him as his body vibrated with mirth, his eyes formed into these tiny crescent as they disappeared from his mouth stretched out in a charming grin. Even his laugh was so damn attractive.

"Why?" he grinned, wiping an imaginary tear from underneath his glasses with the same hand that held hy head from the wall. "Do I look like one to you?"

"I don't know," I shrugged, frowning at him. "Are you?"

He surveyed me when he calmed down, gauging I was serious at knowing the answer to my question, but after a moment, he shook his head as he watched me carefully.

"No," he denied with a small smile.

Another laugh escaped him when he saw my irritated expression and amusement was all his eyes showed as he watched me try to cross my arms but failed since my hands were literally bound together and it was borderline impossible to even do anything remotely close.

"Uncomfortable?" he clicked his tongue.

I glared at him intensely. "What do you think?" I hissed, extremely annoyed at the fact that I can't even do anything. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

He nodded in acknowledgement. "I am," he replied, angering me. "Very much so, actually. But I'd enjoy it more if you'd just give in to me."

"Not a chance," I jeered with an aggravated sigh. "So if Min isn't your real name, what do I call you then?"

"Min's good for now," he shrugged, twirling the knife again expertly in his nimble hands. "And what a shame, I can be good for you, you know?"

I wanted nothing but to slap the smug look on his face to oblivion. "I think I can live without knowing what that's like," I snorted.

His brows knit together. "Suit yourself," he shrugged. "I guess we'll be here for a while."

When he saw me glaring daggers, no pun intended, at the small pocket knife he held in his hands, he twirled them faster, tempting me to just stand up and kick his balls as hard as humanly possible so I could get it.

But along that was the underlying fear that I truly didn't know what he truly wanted with me. That, alone, makes me even more terrified of being here.

I gulped apprehensively and his face switched to something else when he noticed. "You're not going to use that on me, are you?" I pointed at the blade.

He shook his head. "No. Not now, not ever. I told you, I'm not going to hurt you. I don't want to hurt you."

"Besides," he continued. "If you come to me by force, then I don't want it."

He smirked at me suggestively, to which I scoffed softly, but loud for him to hear. "I'm too good for you," I rolled my eyes at him.

Well. Not entirely. In any normal circumstances, someone like him wouldn't even be in the same room as me. I couldn't point my finger at it at first, but a man this self-assured and dauntless must be someone of higher authority and money, I was sure of it.

"That, you are, my peach," he agreed. Something surges in his eyes when he noticed the blush that covered my cheeks.

God, his eyes. There was a lifetime of struggle in there that has never been put into words. His face in general, he was out of my league.

He glances at my bound wrists and for a second, I thought he was going to set me loose. My eyes widened when he put the sheath back on the blade and set it aside, instead.

"What?" he taunted. "You don't want to cooperate."

I closed my eyes tightly and took a deep breath in defeat. "I'm at a total loss right now. You want me to exchange you something, correct?"

He nods enthusiastically. "But not the knife?" I quipped.

"I don't want to let you go yet," he shook his head.

"I am aware..."

A small smile forms on his face as his brows shoot up, waiting for me to continue. "But I have nothing more to offer you," I rambled. "I have nothing on me that will interest you."

"And that, my little dove," he hummed. "Is where you're wrong."

Hot, red anger coursed through my veins when he dug into the pockets of his black cardigan and took out my wallet.

"Where did you even get that?" I seethed.

He shrugged. "Take a wild guess."

I wanted to scream in disbelief. He must've gotten his hands on it when he carried me earlier. I had a terrible habit of putting my wallet in the back pocket of any pants I wore.

"Even if I let you go, how would you get home?" he said. "Taking the subway meant you lived a decent distance from here."

He was right. Walking was out of the question because if I did, I would walk three hours. The subway cut the journey into half an hour.

I stared at him, calculating how I would get my wallet out of his claws and taking him down at the same time.

"Don't even think about it," he laughed. "I'm much bigger than you, and you know it."

"What do you want, Min?" I sighed in desperation. "Tell me what is it that you want so you can let me go, what do you want from me?"

He tilted his head to meet my eyes, slowly jutting his arms out to reach towards me and touch my chin lightly. He titled my face gently in his direction, and I was able to meet his eye as well.

"I want you," he spoke softly. "You would think that tying you up would make that very obvious."

I couldn't look away from his burning gaze even if I tried; I could have held it forever. His eyes were dangerously penetrating, he looked pure male at this very moment.

"Tying me up is not the solution, though, you psycho," I frowned at him.

"Humour me this," he uttered, waving his hands in the air as he spoke. "It's almost midnight and when you get to the sub, there's a big, scary man waiting in there, wanting to say hi..."

He paused, waiting for me to internalize the imagery. When it dawned on me, I sighed. "See what I mean, babygirl?" he chuckled.

"Don't call me that," I snapped. "Also your logic is ass."

He smirked, ignoring my statement. "Call you what?"

My scowls deepened when his eyes slowly trailed down from my eyes to my chest. He laughed when I lifted my wrists to attempt to hide them, but there was no point. I growled for him to look away, but of course, he was who he was and he only stared at me, not saying anything back.

His gaze wasn't uncomfortable, rather, there was a hint of wonder in them and it made my breathing constricted and shallow.

I know that look - it was scheming. The lasciviousness in which he stared at me was shamefully making my core ache, the patch of wetness staining my underwear was proof enough.

He sat straighter and his form, especially his upper torso, became bigger. He inched closer to me. "Kiss me," he whispered breathily.

There was a bomb that went off in my brain. I blinked owlishly at him. "Excuse me?"

He bit his lip to stop himself from smiling. "You heard me, Y/N. I want you to want me."

He licked his lips, his eyes clouding over when I shivered involuntarily when his deep, sultry voice said my name like he was praying for me to say yes.

His brows raise and his eyes widen a bit when I start to advance, leaning my face very slowly towards his face. His Adam's apple bobs up and down and his eyes flutter close as he held his breath.

Instead, I went to his ear as closely as possible and whispered, "Go kiss the wall instead, you sick fuck."

I didn't know what else to say, but more so, I didn't want him to see that he was getting to me little by little. He was manipulative, calculating, and conniving.

"God," he let out a groan that sounded like a tortured animal. He closed his eyes tightly as if in pain. "You're such a tease, little tart..."

He banged his head a couple of times on the same wall he stopped me from banging my head down. He rested his head on it for a while.

I couldn't help but stare at his face and how peaceful it looked when his face was relaxed. I couldn't believe this was the cocky and arrogant man that held me hostage.

He suddenly opened his eyes and they were darker than I previously saw, his smirk was dirtier too. "I'll give you your wallet back if you kiss me."

"Are you kidding me? Seriously?" I shrieked exasperatedly. "This is essentially blackmailing!"

"Call it whatever you want," he grinned. "But yes, I do agree."

"Now you're just doing this on purpose! You're going to get what you want anyway, why don't you just do it?"

He paused, his brow raised. "Okay," he shrugged.

Before I can process what was happening, Min lifted me from the ground and placed me on his lap, and now, I was straddling him. His heavy eyes were the last thing I saw before he grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me towards his lips.

"Wait--"

I whined on his lips, trying my very best to push his hard chest with my fists, but all that did was instigate him to wrap his arms around me and pull me even closer.

Surprisingly, he wasn't rough with it, but he wasn't gentle either - just desperate. I felt his tongue lick my lips, pushing them apart. He moaned lowly when I wasn't giving in, and his moan got louder when I unconsciously scratched his chest at those unholy sounds.

"Baby, please let me in," he rasped, his lips giving mine little kitten pecks as he spoke through the kiss. "Here, take this."

He momentarily broke the kiss and put my wallet in my pockets for me. I was frozen, I could feel both of our heartbeats going very fast, and I gasped when his hand squeezed my hips firmly.

"I can't do this," I said breathlessly.

He hushed me, leaning in and kissing my jawline slowly. I tensed under his touch, and he stops to hold my face between his hands.

"Relax," his breath was shallow as he looked me in the eye. His intense eyes lingered on my nervous face. "I'll be gentle, okay? Just give in to me, kitten, please."

He was about to lean again, but his black glasses kept hindering the movement. He cursed under his breath as he tried to adjust it.

"Take it off for me," he demanded, his voice taut.

"How?" I gulped, my brain blank with all the overwhelming sensation he was giving me.

"Use your teeth."

Panic started to take over my body. I could feel it trying to push itself out of my stomach, my chest, my throat, my head. I wanted to throw up. I whimpered when his hand went up to my waist and pressed on it, a jolt of pleasure shot down to my clenching wetness.

I swallowed, leaning towards his face, tingles spreading through my scalp as his eyes never left me as I took the black frame in between my teeth and spit it out.

I gasped when I saw his eyes, not because of how heated and impassioned they were, but because of what they literally looked like - dark, seductive, desperate.

I felt my heart constricting tightly. He was painfully beautiful, and looked so dangerous.

"Come here," he growled, crashing his lips against mine once more.

I gasped in pain when he roughly tugged my hair back. I was so taken aback when he forcefully put his tongue in. I refused to let my tongue play with his, mewling and struggling from his hold.

"Oh," I moaned quietly when he bit my lower lip, suckling it gently with a force that knocked the air out of me.

"You're insane, doll, the woman you are," he voice was thick with lust. "You're turning me on even more."

"Stop!" I squealed in abrupt pleasure when his hips bucked up, his hardening erection suddenly pressing on my clothed mound.

An animalistic growl tore out from his chest when he dominantly grabbed my ass and started pushing me in and out, manually grinding me on his hardness fast and hard.

"Oh my fucking God," he grunted, burying his face on the crook of my neck as he pulled me harder. "Oh, God, oh, shit.."

I was moaning along with him, pathetically savouring the feel of my warm heat dry humping his bulging hardness. I was ashamed of myself, for imagining how big he was based on how he felt.

The only thing to be heard in the empty subway station was our breaths, filthy kissing sounds, and the obscene moans from the both of us. Desire flowed through us, causing our bodies to melt against one another

He pulled away for a moment and I blushed at how red his face was and how bruised his lips already were. "I need to touch you," he croaked. "Can I touch you? I--"

"Hey, did you hear that?"

Cold reality washed over me as if a bucket of freezing ice was poured from my head in one go. I pushed him as hard as I could, as hard as my shame would take me, crawled out of his lap with disgust.

"Wait," he hissed, grabbing me by the arm as he stood up. I whimpered at his demeaning tone, but also how roughly he held my arm.

"Silence," he growled at me. "There's people in here."

The look on his eyes as he stood up and looked around, surveying the area to find the source of the random voice we just heard from the distance was alarming, and they frightened me.

I was disconcerted, I just made out with this man, and how was now compared to what he looked like underneath me was a contrasting difference. His sharp eyes were terrifying, one look will have you submitting to his control.

I paled. I had almost forgotten was dangerous this man actually was - that I was his prey to consume, and he was determined to play with his food before he devoured it.

He pulled me in front of him, pushing me lightly as he guided me to walk until he reached a dark corner that would hide us from anyone. It's not the best hiding spot, but it was the fastest we could find.

But wait a minute, why were we hiding?

It was as if he knew what I was thinking and he covered my mouth with his hand before I could muster up a scream.

"Do not," he warned. "Nobody goes in this area unless they're looking for something," he paused, tensing up behind me. "Or someone."

My eyes widened when it clicked. He was right, this area was a well known spot for mob deals and other shady businesses. It was an unspoken secret that everyone knew, but chose not to comment on. An infamous eight-membered group ruled this area frequently, and while they never deemed terror, their name alone sparked chills on everyone.

Footsteps got closer and closer until there were two people who stood on the spot where me and Min were sitting down. I froze, they were mobsters - the black suits gave it away.

"I could have sworn I heard something in this area," a man with a shorter stature murmured, looking around in the darkness with a stony face.

"'Have' is the keyword," the other taller man with the most intimidating face mocked. "I'm going to kill him when I find him."

"Relax, Seonghwa. Don't get your panties in a twist."

The taller one, Seonghwa, glared hard at his companion. "And I'm going to kill you with him, Hongjoong, if you don't shut your face."

My captor scoffed lightly behind me, his breath fanning my ear. I elbowed him to shut up, and his jerk reaction was to tighten his hold on me. I wanted to scream, I didn't even notice his arms around me.

I felt him lift my hair up and move it to the side to expose my neck. I dug my nails on his arms at the pleasure he gave my sweet spots.

"You smell so good," he whispered sensually, sucking on my neck. I stifled a moan when he bit hard. "I want to hear you so bad," he groaned.

While the two mobsters bickered back and forth, there was me and Min hiding in a dark corner, hoping to not be seen, yet he's making it utterly difficult.

I staggered backwards, my mind swirling with nothing but bliss, my breaths shallow and heavy. His hands slowly trekked upwards..

"Wait no, please, we can't do this here," I pleaded, quickly stopping his hand from fondling my tits.

"We sure can," he pushed my hand away forcefully, but I used my other hand to scratch him.

His body stiffened. "That wasn't very nice of you," he jeered. I gulped.

My paranoia triggered when his other hand wrapped around my throat, choking the words out of me. Whatever false sense of hope I had that he wouldn't hurt me when out the window.

"You've been testing me, little doll, and quite frankly?" He was indifferent, his voice not betraying his emotions. "I am getting sick and tired of it."

"Please," I whimpered when he squeezed the sides of my neck. "It doesn't feel good..."

He chuckled, something sinister lay brewing underneath. "But it does, don't lie to me."

I clawed his hand repeatedly, but he wasn't budging. "You said you wouldn't force me to do what I didn't want," I cried quietly.

"I know," he agreed. "But your eyes are telling me otherwise."

He pulled on the rope, forcing my wrists down permanently, as he went and did whatever his desires told him to do.

"Are you gonna be good if I let your neck go?" he asked in a deceptively soft voice. I nodded apprehensively. "That's a good girl."

He unbuttoned my blouse just enough for my bra to get exposed, and I had to suppress a moan when cold air hit my skin, but not for long as Min's hand hastily pushed my bra down to fully expose my average sized tits.

Soft groans escaped him as he roughly fondled them in his hands and I couldn't help my own groans. "Hush," he kissed my neck. "You don't want them to hear you."

He put his fingers at my open mouth and I used them to plug the sounds of pleasure threatening to spill out of me. God, his rough hands felt too good against my skin.

His mouth was on mine again as he held my stiff nipples with his nimble fingers. It sent jolts of desire all over my body.

"Do you feel good?" he murmured in between the kisses. When I ignored him, he bit my lower lip. "Answer me, love."

"Mhhm," I hummed, and he seemed to let that go for now.

I gasped when he squeezed them hard, the overstimulation of him alternating between rough and tender almost made me want to come undone. All I could do was mewl as he toyed with my body.

"I'll go to the other corner, Joong. Keep looking there," I heard Seonghwa mutter before his footsteps receded. I almost forgot they were still here.

"Doesn't the thrill feel good?" Min smirked, attacking my neck again and leaving pretty bruises on them.

"For you," I sighed. "You're the only one enjoying it. Seriously, how can you do this? How can you take advantage of me while we're supposed to be hiding from the mafia?"

"Ever so sarcastic, my pretty princess," he snorted.

While one hand massaged my tits, the other went south - going lower, lower, and lower until I felt him stop at the hem of my pants. My heart rate picked up.

"You're going to enjoy it too," he said softly. "I'm going to touch you, okay? I want to feel you, I need it so bad..."

The desperation in his voice caught me off guard, it shamefully made my pussy clench onto nothing as wetness covered it entirely.

"A-And if I say no?" I stuttered.

"I will push you out and give you to those two turds out there."

My blood ran cold. "You wouldn't," I gasped. He wouldn't let two mobsters who can kill me take me, right?

"My queen," he whispered, possessively pulling me closer in the tight space we were hiding in. "Remember this, I have never, and never will, given you opportunities where there was no way out of them."

I gulped. He was right, and I hated him for it, but that's what made him manipulative - he would give me these options that he carefully crafted and no matter what I chose, it will always end up with him getting what he wanted one way or another.

These options weren't for me to feel safe; he was merely giving me a chance to do things the easy way or the hard way, but either way, they were still his way.

"You were doomed the moment I laid my eyes on you," he stated darkly. "Oh, my sweet little peach..."

I closed my eyes tightly as he worked his way inside my pants, cupping the throbbing heat of my core. He nudged my legs apart with his foot, but I wasn't giving up.

"I'm not going to hurt you, okay?" he exhaled a sharp breath. "Relax, love, I'm going to make you feel good, I promise."

"I'm scared," I whimpered with raw honesty. Danger was still looming around us with Hongjoong and Seonghwa lingering around the area.

He didn't reply, instead he brushed his plump lips all over my neck and my now exposed shoulders. I couldn't help the tiny moans coming out of me as he worshiped my body gently. I suppose it worked, it calmed me down.

I heard his sharp intake of breath followed by a throaty moan when I leaned my head back against his shoulder so he could have access to my neck. "Stay like this," he groaned.

"Please," I choked when his fingers pushed my underwear apart and gently rubbed my slit up and down.

He grunted deeply, hungrily. "This is for me, yes?"

I whined at the absence of his touch when he pulled his fingers out and quickly reddened at the sight of his fingers coated with my juices within seconds of touching me.

It was obscene and it shouldn't have been so arousing, the wet sounds coming from my pussy when he parted my lips with his fingers again, but this time, he went straight into my clit, rubbing delicious circles on it.

My moans were borderline pornographic when he finally inserted a finger inside me and stars blinded my vision for a bit when he pinched my nipple at the same time. He slid his fingers in and out with a fastening pace, the wet sounds of it echoing all over the corner we were in.

"Shit, baby, your cunt feels so good, oh God," his deep moans kept hitting my ear and he smirked when I became impossibly wetter. "Say you want more, Y/N."

I whimpered in protest when his fingers stopped all of a sudden. "Fucking say it, then. Say you want more," he demanded with a furious growl.

"I want more!" I cried, tears falling from my eyes. "Please, Min, just please, I-I want more---ah!"

He roughly drove two fingers back in me and I could have exploded when he licked my tears. His long fingers were deep inside me, curling them as he searched for that particular spot. I bit his arm to avoid being too loud when he found it.

This angle had my swollen clit directly on his thumb and he applied pressure just enough until I started tightening on his fingers.

"We're leaving, there's nothing in here."

I'm not sure if that was Hongjoong or Seonghwa at this point, but I didn't care to know, I didn't realize how weird it was that they were announcing it at this time, not when Min had finally let loose when he practically dragged me out of our hiding spot.

He hastily took his cardigan off, set it down on the floor, and pushed me down on it so I could lay down on the floor. I yelped when he roughly shoved my pants down, leaving me completely exposed to him as he loomed on top of me.

And just like that, his fingers were back inside me again, sliding them in and out of me. The way his face looked in this light, I will never forget it. He looked more fucked out than me and he was the one getting me off.

"I-I think I'm, uhm," I moaned when his fingers down there got rougher, faster, harder and he just stared at me with lust-filled eyes as he finger fucked me.

"Tell me what you want, Y/N," he groaned.

I feel my orgasm approaching me fast and hard like an oncoming train. He finger fucks me even faster than before as he took in my pleasure filled face.

"I'm so c-close," I moaned loudly. "M-Min, oh shit, Min---"

"Mingi," he grunted, his eyes never leaving mine. "My name is Mingi."

He leans over to kiss me quickly before leaning up again. "I want my name on your lips when you come, okay?"

"Mingi!"

With that, I let go. Wave after wave of pleasure plummet my body and I scream his name, his real name. He was moaning with me and I saw him resisting to close his eyes so he can watch me come until I was exhausted and shaking, until he couldn't.

"Say my name," he growled, leaning down and burying his head on my neck as he slowed his fingers down. "Say my fucking name."

My throat was hoarse by the time I was done wailing his name. I was out of it for a while, Min - Mingi - kept giving me tiny little kisses here and there wherever his lips touched. He shushed me as he let go for a while, pulling out and sucking the fingers he used to make me come.

I watched him put my underwear and pants back on as if he didn't just give me the most mind blowing orgasm. When the ecstasy subsided and died down, I wept.

"You're okay," he would keep assuring, lifting me from the ground and embracing me in his hard chest. "Shh, don't cry. You did so well for me..."

He buried my face on his shoulders as he embraced me, patting my back soothingly as I let my tears fall from the overwhelming feeling my body felt.

I am so ashamed of myself. This was wrong. I wasn't supposed to want my captor, the one who kept blackmailing me. I felt immense guilt and distraught. The pleasure I felt was so good, but it made me feel so dirty.

"I am no different than a harlot," I sniffled against his skin.

He sighed deeply. "You're not."

We stayed like that for a while - me just letting my feelings pass and him patiently waiting for me to finish. He would whisper comforting words as he gave me pecks here and there, wiping my tears away. It felt so wrong.

"So," I cleared my throat, pulling away from him and sitting beside him instead. "Song Mingi, huh?"

He nodded. "How do I know you're not lying?" I questioned, the doubt clear on my face.

Mingi looked a little offended. "My queen," he spoke. "I may have tweaked our deals a little bit, but I never lied to you once."

I hate how right he was. "Stop calling me that," I murmured. "It feels a little intimate. Why do you keep calling me that?"

Mingi smirked at me, taking my wrists in his hand and working on the knots. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

My eyes widened. "No," I rejected. "No more deals, please."

He laughed that deep and attractive laugh of his, concentrating on untying the rope, tugging on it repeatedly, until it became loose, and he guided my hands until I was completely free. I breathe a sigh of relief, pulling my hands to myself and stretching them over and over to make them mobile again.

"What's the catch?" I frowned. He wouldn't just do this for free.

"God, I love how perceptive you are," Mingi remarked flirtatiously. "But no, nothing. I just want to get you cleaned up."

He juts his finger in a random direction. "I have my car outside, we can clean you up there. I have water too. Then you can go."

I was at a loss for words. "Really?"

"Really," Mingi confirmed.

When I gave him the 'go' signal, Mingi proceeded to carry me in his arms, swooping me in one go, and he carried me like a blushing bride. I wasn't a bride, but I was blushing. I knew he was strong, but this was crazy strong. I wasn't the lightest person out there.

I didn't even protest when he started walking out of there, I was too tired to argue, and I saw his eyes twinkle when I leaned my head on his chest as he walked.

"You were never going to ride the train in the first place, weren't you?" I whispered all of a sudden. He had a car outside of a subway station.

Mingi raised a brow as he looked down on me. "No."

"And those two mobsters, the mafia, they were looking for you."

He was smirking this time. "Yes."

"You were going to escape from them, weren't you?"

"Sure."

"What do you owe them?"

"I'm afraid I can't answer that, my queen."

"Please?"

Mingi pauses, staring at me. Then he sighs and relents. "Money."

"Is that what was in your backpack?"

"Do you actually want to get fucked? You're still very sentient, babydoll. Maybe my dick will shut you up---"

"You forgot your glasses inside!" I blurted out, my voice raising by one pitch in embarrassment. I felt my face heating up with his straightforwardness.

Mingi gives me a confused, incredulous look before he opens the door to his car and sets me down comfortably on the plush seats. "I never needed them," he cryptically said.

"Nice ride," I murmured, taking in the luxurious interior and the modern technology attached to it.

He hummed in response, handing me a bottle of water to which I drank greedily. It could have been poisoned, but at the moment, it was the least of my concerns. He lowered the windows so I could also use the water to rinse my face and hands.

"What now?" I questioned.

Mingi gave me a small smile. "You can do whatever you want, go home if you will."

"You sure?" I blurted out before realizing how stupid that was.

He laughed, realizing it as well. "I'm sure, Y/N."

It felt surreal at the moment. It was as if what happened between us was just a figment of my imagination, and it made me even more anxious. It was a little too easy.

"How am I gonna get home at this time," I sighed to myself rather than question it. It was well after midnight and the buses were all gone at this point and I didn't have enough money to get a cab.

"You know how to drive?" he lazily asked, looking at the distance out into the empty city.

"Yeah, I do," I replied, not sure where he was going with this.

Mingi nodded, tossing me the keys, and I caught it in surprise. "She's all yours," he said.

My eyes widened. "W-What?"

"The car, Y/N, it's yours now," he chuckled. "Drive home, and take care of her for me, yes? She was my favourite."

"Hold the hell on, Mingi," I blabbered. "Are you high right now? You can't just say things like that!"

"Think of it as a gift," he shrugged.

I stared at him in confusion when he got out and walked around the car, knocking on the passenger window where I was. I quickly crawled to the driver's seat and pressed the window open.

"H-How about you? How will you go home?" I stammered, genuinely concerned. "I'm just borrowing your car, right?"

He smirked, shaking his head. "No. Don't worry, I have more where that came from."

"You used the money you stole from the mafia?"

His eyes widened a bit before he burst out laughing. "More or less," he snorted. "But seriously, do you not like it?"

I scoffed. "Of course I do, this is a Bugatti, for fuck's sake!"

"Ah," he dismissed. "It's a Centodieci, it's not that much."

Damn right, I thought. I suppose I deserve this after all the crap and assault he subjected me to, but still, it felt wrong.

When he saw me biting my lip, hesitating, Mingi chuckled, and he was about to answer, but headlights suddenly blinded both of us. "Well," he spoke, tapping the car twice. "My ride's here."

My heart lurched out of my chest. The way Mingi was looking at me, I can't stand it. He was looking at me like I was the brightest star in the universe and the best thing he could do was stare at it because he couldn't reach it. Mngi began walking away, straight to the other car, but I stopped him.

"Mingi, hold on," I called out. He paused from his steps, looking back at me expectantly. My words got stuck in my throat, and the only thing I could say was, "I'll see you around."

He chuckled, low and sinister, and I was thrown into a whiplash. "You don't want that, doll, trust me," he shook his head. "Don't tempt me right now."

"W-Why?"

He opened the door of the other car, leaning on it as he stared at me with a dark look in his eyes. "I'm giving you a chance to run," he professed.

Right. I forgot how manipulative he was. "So run, Y/N, run far, far away," he continued, a daunting smirk on his face, "Because you're mine if we meet again."

And with that, he got in the car and it drove away, leaving me to stare at it as it disappeared from my view.

What did that even mean?

I drove away, apprehensively I might add, to get home. It was a breeze, I hate that I am now very in love with it. I got extremely dizzy when I realized it was voice powered too. Out of curiosity, I asked how much this car cost.

Bugatti Centodieci, top of the line, costs $8.8 million dollars as of 2024...

I almost swerved off the lane when I heard it. Was Mingi crazy? I scoffed, laughing maniacally.

Who was he? This can't be right. My insides quivered, no way it was this easy, surely there was a catch in between? He was cunning, what if him giving me the car was a part of his stupid games? I wouldn't put it past him.

And so, I drove home with an underlying guilt and heartbreak.

Mingi filled my thoughts all day and all night for the past month.

He was like a barnacle that didn't want to unstick from me and truth be told, it was getting extremely tiring. No matter what I did, I always saw him. I haven't been on any subway or train stations at all.

The worst part was that I didn't exactly know what this feeling was. At first, I thought it was fear - I was scared that he would come knocking on my door one day and claim me against my will, but no, nothing had happened.

I had so many questions left unanswered, questions that were giving me nothing but grievances, and in hindsight, a part of me wanted to see him again.

"Are you going to go have drinks with everyone tonight, Y/N?"

I paused from walking to turn around and found my co-worker, Wooyoung, at the restaurant where we both worked.

"I'm not too sure, Woo, I'm not really feeling well as of lately," I told him truthfully. This is Mingi's fault.

Wooyoung gives me a worried glance. "Everything okay, Y/N? Are you feeling sick?" he asked with a frown.

I gave him a halfhearted grin. He was always very sweet and I loved that about him. "Don't worry Woo, I'm just going to go home and rest," I twirled my car keys between my fingers and Wooyoung eyes it.

His eyes comically widen. "Wow, Y/N, you drive a car like that?" he says excitedly. "You always rode the bus though..."

I raised a brow. Has he always been this observant? Before I can question it, he snaps his fingers happily. "Can I see it? My brothers don't want me to drive," he pouted.

"Sure," I laughed and I guided him in the parking lot. "I overheard you talking to the others and mentioning that you had seven brothers?"

Wooyoung laughed. "Ah, that. We're not blood related, but we've been together all our lives. Blood isn't always thicker than water..."

We continued talking until I pointed the car to him. I started to go towards it, but I halted when I heard Wooyoung's sharp intake of breath. His eyes were wide as he stared at the black Bugatti, and I was amused.

"Where did you get this?" he inquired, his tone firm, his eyes piercing.

I was taken aback with Wooyoung's shift of attitude. He walked confidently towards the car, lightly trailing his fingers on the hood. Long gone was the cheery boy I knew him for.

"It's you," I heard him whisper.

My heart palpitated faster and faster when he walked towards me. "Stay here," was all he said when he walked away and called somebody.

I was so damn confused, what the hell was going on? Did Wooyoung know me outside of work? Oh God, I hope he didn't think I stole the car! I mean I get it, I earn shit in the restaurant as a server so I'd understand why he would think that.

Against my better judgment, I ran away from the parking lot into nowhere in particular. There was something dark looming over him in that odd conversation and I didn't want to be part of whatever that was.

As I was running hastily, I dropped the car keys. Cursing under my breath, I went back and tried to find where it dropped. I frowned when I realized where I was - in an isolated dark alley.

"Aha!" I exclaimed when I saw the keys and bent down to pick it up, but a foot stepped on it before I did.

I looked up to see three hooligans - tattoos, dank breath, yellowed eyes, you name it - grinning maliciously at me. I paled and it rendered me paralyzed.

"Well boys, looks like we got a jackpot right over here," the biggest man with the ugliest looking face grinned disgustingly. "You're the owner of that black baby in that parking lot!"

They all laughed rambunctiously to themselves. I was frightened, but I wanted to kick myself. Of course, the expensive car would've caught someone's eye sooner or later, but I didn't think it would be like this.

"P-Please," I whimpered, tears springing up my eyes. "I-I'll give it to you, you can have it, just don't hurt me..."

I gasped sharply when a skinny looking man grabbed me by my face and ogled. "You're hot," he leered. I almost threw up but I held it in. "Wanna play with us, doll? We'll give you a good time!

Tears started falling from my eyes. Mingi called me his doll, and it sounded heavenly from his lips. When they said it, I felt extremely insulted and violated.

"No, no, please!" I screamed when one of them held my arms and restrained me. "Stop!"

"Hold still!"

"No!" I bellowed. "I didn't get to where I am just to be manhandled by fuc---"

I choked, a stinging sensation on my right crippling me, the backhanded slap on my face was stronger than I thought and I hit the pavement below me. Was this the end? I groaned painfully when I felt myself being dragged on the ground.

My tears were free falling as I felt hands grope me in places I didn't want them to, but I couldn't do anything, black spots danced on my vision, but I still yelled, hoping someone would hear me.

"Stop it, please, take the car!" I shrieked, thrashing around, but that earned me another slap on the face.

"Damn, bitch, don't you ever shut up?" They laughed disgustingly. I cried out when I felt hands trying to lift my shirt up. "We're going to have so much fun---"

"What's going on here?"

The three hobos paused from their tracks, and froze when they saw the owner of the voice. I was in a haze, I probably had a concussion at this point. I could only hope that the new voice was here to help me...

I lay helplessly on the dirty ground and even though that felt terrible, at least I didn't feel their hands on me anymore, but I could still hear their conversation very well.

"B-Boss, greetings to you and your brothers," I heard them say as they bowed 90 degrees from where they stood.

In the distance, I saw three men standing straight, arms crossed in their chests except the one at the very front. I shrinked onto myself. They were the mafia.

They were Ateez, the 'A' symbol they wear on their suits was a dead giveaway. I panicked when I put two and two together. Were they going to hurt me too?

"Why are you imbeciles disturbing the peace?" a built man with the fiercest eyes I have ever seen sighed. He had this interesting reddish, pinkish hair.

"Wait," the other man with the deeper voice said. This one was handsome, his greenish, blackish hair suited him well. "You fuckers can't get it up so you terrorize a woman?"

"B-But, we know her," the three hoodlums lied. "We swear!"

A sudden panic attack tightens my chest and my breathing turns shallow. I'm so scared, and I am in pain right now. I groaned and everybody turned to look at me, but my haze couldn't make out faces clearly, especially their expressions.

Green haired man smirked. "Yeah?" he pointed at me. "Doesn't seem like it."

"I should kill you sons of bitches here," the pink haired one snarled, grabbing the gun he had and pointing it straight.

"Please, brother, spare us!" they shouted over and over again. I panicked, whimpering my ears to soothe the oncoming migraine I felt. I panicked even more when I realized I had blood, probably from my fall.

"Shut the fuck up---"

"San."

My eyes fluttered open as the world around slowly started to fade. That voice...

"Put the gun down," the third and last person spoke - the presumed boss. His voice was deep, calming, yet it induced fear in me.

"Why?" pink hair, San, growled.

"I won't tell you twice."

I tried, I really did, my best to glance at the tall man with the most lulling voice, at least to my ears. He was familiar, I just know that he was, it was breaking my heart trying to remember somebody who I couldn't at the moment.

I knew one thing - he was painfully beautiful, and the way he looked at me, it was like I was the brightest star in the universe, only this time, he can reach me and not just stare at me from afar.

He stepped forward, his strides powerful and domineering, and his eyes never leaving mine. There was something about him that felt different; he was dominant, compelling, and more dangerous than the other two.

"Step aside, maggots," he stated calmly, but so commanding.

"Boss, n-no offense," one brute interrupted, the one that slapped me to the pavement. "W-We really like t-this one, if you may--"

"Move."

"B-But---"

I saw the head mobster glance to his right. "Yeosang."

Green hair, Yeosang, nodded once and proceeded to roughly shove the thugs, apparently also mafia henchmen, to the side, giving them little punches and kicks here and there.

My head lolls and the muscles on my neck barely keep up with me. I can feel myself slowly slipping away. A shadow covers my view. He was so intimidating. He reaches his hand out, and I cower in response.

"No," I groggily shoved the head mafia's hand away from me. "Don't hurt me..."

He sighed, crouching down and sitting me down despite my protests. "Little dove, you know I would never," he whispered.

My heart started beating out of control as I stared at him closer. He was wearing this bluish suit along with a white dress shirt. Through my blurry vision, I can tell that he was the most attractive man I have ever seen in my life. I don't think anyone would come close...

I frowned. That train of thought. This wasn't the first time...

"Boss, my liege," I heard the ruffians speak. "Why are you forsaking us, your brothers, for some whore?"

I whimpered when I saw him take his sunglasses of, his eyes twitching, a glare of emotional coldness and complete disregard of anyone. It was terrifying.

"You dare call your queen a whore?"

That voice, that deep timbre, it brought a sense of relief to me. "Mingi?" I inhaled, shaking when it hit me.

His facade drops a bit, his eyes shining in relief, before it turns stone hard again.

The world seemed to stop for a moment, and the world never stopped for somebody like me. I was too far gone to acknowledge the sharp gasps.

I felt myself being carried and I automatically leaned into his hard chest. I was supposed to be terrified, frightened, but I was not. Everything seemed right at the moment and even if my head didn't know, my heart did.

I've felt this way before. I've been carried like this before. I've been in his safe embrace, wrapped in his heady scent.

I felt him plant a small kiss on my forehead as he carried me out of the alleyway. "You're safe now," Mingi whispered. "Let's go home, okay?"

I resisted, not wanting to go out just yet, but the tiredness and dizziness was catching up to me. As Mingi was about to completely walk out and go inside a car when we were stopped.

"Min, what do you want to do with them?" San asked. He then turned to me and bowed a bit. "Greetings, our queen."

I frowned, but that quickly turned into aghast when I watched Mingi hand Yeosang a handgun. "Beat the fuck out of them, Sannie, yeah?" he smirked sadistically.

He turned to Yeosang next with a smirk. "Then use that," he beamed darkly. "And use it well. Do not let me down, Yeo."

San and Yeosang look at each other, their eyes glazed with ruthless vigor. "With pleasure," Yeosang smirked.

I kept going in and out of consciousness every twenty minutes or so. I was in the backseat of a car.

And Mingi wasn't helping either. When I would try to shrug him off to just lay on my side to relax, he would possessively grab onto my waist and pull me to him.

"Stop it," I whined. "Thank you for saving me, but that doesn't give you the pass to touch me."

He hummed, not even bothering to respond. I wasn't in the mood for his bullshit today, so I shrug him off harder.

"Enough," he warned, a slight edge to his voice. "A month ago, you couldn't do it even if you tried." I hissed when he grasped my waist tighter. "It's like you never learned your lesson."

I blushed at the memory despite the haze. "Where are you taking me?" I cleared my throat pathetically. "My apartment is close to here."

Mingi stared at me before chuckling slowly. "Oh, you sweet, summer child..."

I shivered both in anticipation and fright. I can't be sarcastic with him like I did the last time I was with him. Song Mingi wasn't a regular person, I know that now. I have a sneaking suspicion who he was exactly, but the matter at hand wasn't that.

"Mingi, please, not now," I pleaded when he leaned towards me, stopping only a few inches from mine.

"You have forgotten what I told you before we parted ways," he murmured with a small smirk on his lips. "Surely, you didn't forget me that quick?"

"How could I forget you?" I glared. "You are the most insufferable person I have ever met."

He smirked. "How could you forget?" I held my breath when he whispered softly. "When your cunt took my fingers so well?"

I inhaled a sharp breath when he gave my lips a small peck. "You're mine now," he whispered. "Don't you ever forget that."

I was about to retort something stupid, but I couldn't when I groaned in pain, clutching my head when a sudden headache stopped me.

"You're bleeding, my sweet pea," Mingi frowned, his fingers lightly touching the dried, caked blood on my forehead. He tutted. "That fuckface. Come here."

My cheeks reddened when Mingi lifted me and placed me on his lap. I instinctively wrapped my arms around him for support. "Jongho," he called, his deep, commanding voice booming all over the car with authority.

"Here," I heard a voice towards the front. I groaned when we hit a road bump.

"Careful, Jjong. Easy on the road," I heard Mingi sigh while he was rubbing my back in a slow manner. It was honestly soothing.

"Sorry," the driver, at least I assume him to be, apologized. "I've been driving for a while now, where to?"

There was a slight pause. "Doll?" Mingi whispered directly in my ear. "You're going to have to stay awake for us, okay?"

I buried my head on the crook of his neck, breathing in his comforting scent. "My head hurts," I whimpered. "They hurt me really bad..."

"Shh, I know, I know. Can you sleep?" he tenderly asked, his arms wrapping around me tighter. I nodded in response.

"That's a good girl," he said. "Yunho's, then. Think you can reach there in thirty, Jjong?"

"Of course," Jongho snorted. "But only if I get to stay and not clean up after Yeo and Sannie. They're brutes."

"Look at you telling me what to do," Mingi raised a brow when Jongho gave him a sheepish smile. "Fine. Wooyoung will do it."

""But I'm worried about her," Jongho glanced at me through the rear mirror. "She might get nauseous."

"I'm fine," I snapped, burying my head deeper into Mingi's neck. "Just fucking drive before my head splits in two. I'll apologize to you later."

I felt bad for cursing at him, given that this was the first time I've ever seen him. My first impression was the least of my concerns.

Both of them laughed for a couple of seconds. "I see you picked the right one," I heard Jongho chuckling at Mingi, his eyes glinting in amusement, but there was that same darkness that he held. "Hang tight, our queen."

Everything was such a blur afterwards, all I knew was that I wanted to rest and forget about everything. The moment my head hit the pillow, it was game over.

When I woke up, I found myself with the most agonizing headache. I clutched onto my head, it certainly felt like my skull was trying to get out of my head.

It took me a while to realize that I wasn't in my own room, rather, I was in the most luxurious room with the plushest king-sized bed, wrapped in the most velvety blanket and surrounded by the softest pillows.

Everything hit me at once - my overnight shift, almost being forced against my will, to being in Mingi's car. I was mad at myself for being so damn weak that I can't even fight back when the need arose. If Mingi and his group didn't come in time, I just know I'd be dead by now.

Or worse, sold off. That was absolutely worse than being dead.

"You're awake."

I looked around to find the source of the voice and there he was. At the foot of the bed, a tall man stood. He was taller than Mingi, and Mingi was damn tall, himself.

"Who are you?" I asked with a frown.

"The owner of this house," he beamed. "My name is Yunho, our queen. Jeong Yunho."

He rolled a cart with antiseptics and more medical stuff out to the side. "You're a doctor," I declared, touching my forehead to find it all cleaned and healed up.

He nodded. "Luckily you didn't need any stitches, just a couple of bandages. Mingi can help you replace them later."

My heart skipped a beat at the name. "Speaking of," I cleared my throat. "Where is he?"

He smiled widely at me. He seemed nice, definitely reminding me of a puppy. "Doing some...stuff."

"I know what he does," I said. "Of what you guys do, more or less."

"I'm sure you do," he chuckled. "Mingi is not a subtle person."

He crossed his arms as he walked closer to my side of the bed. "You're very interesting," he remarked with a smile. "I can see why he's drawn to you."

"What do you mean, Yunho?"

"Well, for one, you didn't freak out when you saw me. The usual response to a random stranger in your bedroom is not nonchalance."

I squinted my eyes at him. I shouldn't conclude my thoughts about these people from looks alone; no one is who they seem to be here.

"You're observant," I commented.

"Yes. He can observe his way out of this room, as well."

Yunho laughed and I scoffed loudly when we both turned around and saw Mingi leaning on the door with his arms crossed.

"No thank you, Mangi?" Yunho approached Mingi with his arms wide open.

"Get out," Mingi ordered.

"Oh, come on now, I just wanted to check up on our queen," Yunho teased.

"Get out," Mingi repeated, raising his voice a little.

"But I want to know how you guys met--"

"Get," Mngi gritted his teeth. "Out."

"Okay, okay, goddamn," Yunho raised his hands out in response and beelined the hell out of the room, but not before waving at me jokingly and laughing on the way out.

The atmosphere was so awkward, it filled the massive room with uncertainty. I couldn't even look Mingi in the eye, for fear of him doing something to me. I was at the mercy of his presence, and in his property. He can do whatever he wants and none would be the wiser.

"I must say, Y/N," he began to speak, making me jump a bit in surprise. "Had I known that the next time I'd you see was being cornered by dead motherfuckers, I would have never let you go that night."

"Dead?" I squeaked.

Mingi smirked, his eyes glinting with something dangerous. "They will be soon."

He was at the very end of the room, but he was so unnerving. But by God, Mingi was the devil wrapped in an angel's grace. I didn't even recognize him at first.

He was wearing this tight, long-sleeved muscle fit shirt that emphasized just how bigger Mingi actually was. He had no glasses on, allowing me to see through his sharp and calculating eyes, and his dark hair was completely down, his bangs covered his entire forehead.

It was such a contrast to the very first time I saw him, and to be completely honest, I wasn't sure which one was worse - him wearing a casual outfit with the same dangerous, murderous aura was deceiving.

"You," I gulped. "You are the devil."

He titled his head in a menacing angle. "How so?"

"You know exactly what I mean, you took me here without even asking for my consent, Mingi!"

He stayed silent, staring at me with the same indifference he always had. It irritated me, more so now I knew who he really was.

"You lead the mob, you own the people," I whispered, hugging a pillow for comfort. "God, it all makes sense. The conniving, manipulative, boorish attitude, the fear you instill on everyone who knew you, and how you found me point blank."

"I didn't," Mingi denied. "Wooyoung found you. He called me. He is a brother of mine."

"You lied to me," I growled. "You lied about everything, you bastard-- don't come any closer."

Mingi began walking towards me, but paused in the middle of the room when I told him to stop. "I asked if you were in the mob," I continued. "You said no. But not only that, hid the fact that you had power. All you ever did was lie."

Mingi narrowed his eyes on me, rage slowly building into them, then it was gone. His self-control had always been worth of applause. "I never lied to you," he said in annoyance. "Everything I told you has been the damn truth from the start, Y/N."

"I own the gang, Y/N. I am the mafia, so no, I am not the mob," Mingi hissed. "I gave you every opportunity to wiggle your way out, I never gave you opportunities--"

"Opportunities that you tailored to suit whatever you wanted?!" I interjected, my voice raising significantly. "As if I had any choice? You assaulted me, Mingi, you took advantage of any weakness I had and exploited it for your gain!"

He smirked, his true colours overtaking the gentleness he put on. "But I do, I do care for you," he remarked. "Your perceptiveness kills me, though. It's not my fault we crossed paths again."

"You were going to give me to the enemy when we were hiding at the station," I accused harshly. "Crossing paths wasn't the issue, you had no problem selling me out!"

"I wasn't going to," Mingi shook his head.

"You wanted to touch me, you were going to push me off to them--"

"Hongjoong and Seonghwa, you mean?"

Mingi sighed, rubbing his temples with both of his hands. "Okay, fine, I might have lied to you with that one," he shrugged. "Joong is my best hunter, and Hwa is my right hand man."

Dread filled my body. Every opportunity that he gave me, even if he had pushed me to Hongjoong and Seonghwa, I would have never been in trouble. I would have ended up with Mingi, regardless.

"You snake," I seethed. "You manipulated me!"

"Remember," Mingi grinned sadistically. "I gave you the option to get away. Hongjoong would have let you go, he's always been soft, you see," he scoffed. "You chose to stay with me."

With that, tears fell from my eyes. Mingi's eyes softened at the sobs that wracked my body. He never lied, everything matched up, but his manipulations knew no bounds. Had I not been blinded by the temporary lust that made my body shake, I would have read between the lines.

"Seonghwa said he was going to kill you, how could I have known?" I hiccuped in between the sobs and tears.

I saw him reach out his hand to me, wanting to touch me, but hesitated when he saw how pitiful I looked. "Please don't cry, little dove," he whispered. "Will you calm down if I explain everything from the start?"

I looked up at him with my tear-stained eyes, nodding apprehensively. "Listen to me, my Y/N," he began. "I never lied to you, and I'm not lying when I say it hurts me to see you cry.

He walked towards the end of the bed and sat on it, far from me. "I was there for a deal with another mob, they screwed me over, so I stole their cash," he explained like it was no big deal. "The rope and the knife was theirs. It was for me."

I winced, the memory of Mingi tying me up making me cringe. "I'll spare you the details. I had to secure the place, why do you think the whole station was empty?"

I stared at him, and he stared back. That look again, I can't stand it. He was looking at me like I was the brightest star in the universe, but this time, I was slipping further and further away from him.

"I am a very thorough person, my pretty girl," he smiled at my blush. "I could have sworn I blocked off every single entrance in there. So tell me, how the hell did you get in?"

My blush deepens, and I lower my head in embarrassment. "I-I saw there was a barricade," I stammered. "I, uhm, jumped over it. I was too tired to go the long way."

Mingi laughed, his deep voice reaching me in places I didn't know existed. "I see," he smirked.

How could I be so stupid? The deserted area should have been a massive sign that something was very wrong.

"The train that came after a little," he continued. "That was my getaway ride. Those two were probably pissed when I wasn't on it, especially Seonghwa."

I was mortified all of a sudden. I groaned and Mingi turned to look at me in amusement. Hongjoong and Seonghwa probably heard us going at it and doing vulgar things in a place where we weren't supposed to be doing it.

"I didn't lie when I said I owed them money," he said, his tone soft and gentle. It was like we were in that train station all over again. It was moments like these when my heart would question itself and its validity.

"Yeah, you just conveniently forgot to mention that it was technically your money too," I mumbled in resentment.

"I got a little carried away with you and forgot to give it to them," he shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't know how, you drive me crazy."

"That doesn't give you the excuse to shackle me with you and manipulate me to do your bidding," I glared fiercely at him, my voice breaking with every emotion I had.

"I know, my love, I know," he sighed deeply, shifting uncomfortably on the bed and turning his whole body to face me.

I wasn't going to tell him that I never stopped thinking about him even after he left, and I wasn't going to tell him that he had won - even if I didn't want to, I felt something for him. But I was mad, and he doesn't deserve me.

There wasn't a day where I never blamed myself for feeling the way I did. I really was no different than a whore.

"I didn't think I'd see you again after that night," he admitted.

I was puzzled and confused. "What do you mean?" I frowned. "I was in fear of you, Mingi. Everyday I was paranoid that you changed your mind and would come knocking at my door to take me."

He chuckled lightly. "No, dollface. I didn't even know where you lived."

I stared at him apprehensively. "There was no tracking in the car?" The doubt was clear on my face. "Don't you mafia people do that? GPs everything that moved?"

"You would be correct, but no," he shook his head. "Not that one. That was my personal car. Not the mob boss' car, just regular Song Mingi. It's not connected to the business."

"You're lying," I objected, my chest tightening with how my heart beated.

"How many times do I have to tell you?" Mingi sighed. "Call me whatever you want, a bastard, a son of a bitch, the devil incarnate. I may con my way and twist the truth, but Y/N, you should know by now that I am not a liar."

I swallowed the lump that blocked my throat from breathing in and out. "Not to you," Mingi confessed. "I care very deeply about you."

I couldn't help the shock that resonated onto my face and expression. "You really intended to give me that car?" I croaked.

He nodded without hesitation. "Yes, love. Yes, I did."

Something in my chest exploded, all the emotions and how I felt threatening to bubble up within me. "I hate you," I whispered.

Mingi heard it though. "What?" he frowned.

I was very angry at this point. "Is this part of your games again, Song Mingi?" I spat, tossing the blankets away from my body.

"My love, please calm down," he pleaded.

"No!" I screeched, standing up and inching away from him and the bed. "I don't need your stupid car after you took advantage of me, you slimy little snake."

I began pulling my hair out in frustration. "You could have let me go," I cried out. "But instead, you didn't and you toyed with me and my body!"

"Y/N, stop it," he warned, standing up, himself, and trying to reach for me, but all it did was make me back away more.

"You think the car would absolve everything?" I seethed, making my way to the door, intending to leave. "You could have approached me like a normal person, I might have given you a chance to woo me--"

I grabbed my arms and spun me around swiftly. "Mingi, let go--"

"You don't understand," Mingi hissed, his eyes had the mafia leader's anger in them, scaring me a little. "You don't get it all, Y/N."

"Mingi, please--"

"I had every intention of letting you go that night," he snarled. "When I said I never thought I'd see you again, I meant it. I was really letting you go."

"You asshole, I hate you!" I screamed in defiance.

Mingi scoffed. "Really?" he squinted his eyes at me and pulled me into him, embracing me. It effectively halted me, I wasn't expecting it.

"That car was yours," he whispered. "If you really detested me, you could have sold it and gotten rid of every trace of me."

"And have you kill me for doing so? I think not."

"I wouldn't have known. If it had GPS, I would have tracked it somewhere else."

I cursed under my breath. There was no fooling him. "I wish you sold it," he said. "You could have lived comfortably and I would have rested easy knowing you had enough money so you wouldn't work at night anymore."

I shivered when he tucked my hair behind my ears. "What if someone else got you first? What if they had worse intentions?"

"I want you," he continued when I didn't reply. "I wanted you for myself, to take you and do whatever I damn well pleased."

He tilted my chin gently, forcing me to look him in the eyes. "I wanted to fuck you that night. Hard. Fast. Rough."

That caught me off guard. My face heated up in response.

"But I couldn't," he sighed before I could fully internalize what he said. "I didn't want this life for you. There was too much danger around me..."

He touched my forehead before leaning in and giving the bandaged wound a peck. "I should have come sooner before they did this to you."

I realized that passion was often mistaken for aggression. Mingi had too much of both. "You didn't send Wooyoung to spy on me?" I asked.

Mingi shook his head. "Wooyoung working with you was a sheer coincidence."

"It's not too late, you can still let me go," I tried to convince him. "You can let me go, once and for all."

He shook his head, his hold on me tightening. "No," he flatly said. Desperation swam in his eyes. "I let you go once, and that month was my worst. You're mine now, you hear me?"

The way he looked at me, I was the brightest star in his universe, and he finally had caught up to me. Then Mingi let me go, his eyes darkening into something foreboding; something more sinister.

"Strip."

It took a moment for me to understand what he said, and when I did, my eyes widened. "W-What?"

His eyes never left mine. "You heard me," he said. "Take your clothes off."

I took a step back from him and Mingi's jaw hardened when he saw me. "What are you doing?" he clenched his teeth, his voice taut.

"Mingi, please," I pleaded.

"Please what?" he growled. "Take your fucking clothes off, Y/N. I'm going to fuck you."

My chest fell up and down with how rough my breathing became. Mingi's scowl deepened when he saw me not moving an inch. He proceeded to take his shirt off and throw it randomly somewhere.

I gulped, taking in his physique. I knew he was toned, but seeing him up close made my brain go haywire with want. My brows shot up as I stared at the tattoo I didn't know he had on his left chest. It was an 'A' in a circle - an anarchy symbol, or rather, the Ateez emblem.

"Are you going to hurt me?" I whimpered.

His eyes narrowed in irritation. "No. Come here," he ordered. He had a demanding presence. The suffocating domination he had on me was daunting, but I wasn't going to give in to him.

I stood frozen in my spot for a few more seconds before I backed up again. Mingi slowly crept up to me, he looked like a predator more than ever. I backed up even faster until my back hit the wall. Panic surged through me when Mingi reached me.

He put his arms on either side of the wall, trapping me in. "Where are you going to go?" he sneered.

Before I could respond, Mingi ripped my nightgown off swiftly in the middle and lifted me easily in his arms, tossing me effortlessly on the bed. I screamed for dear life as he hovered over me.

"Song Mingi! What the fuck are you doing to her?!” I heard someone scream from outside the room.

"Fuck off!" Mingi roared angrily.

I trembled beneath him. He looked so much bigger than me when he was on top of me like this. I covered my bare breasts with my arms, but Mingi wasn't having it.

His eyes roamed hungrily over me. "No, babydoll," he smirked, grabbing my hands roughly and pinning them down on the bed. "You do not cover your tits around me, got it?"

I nodded as he devoured me with his eyes. I gasped when he leaned down and began sucking them. The stimulation was overwhelming - he would alternate between sucking and nipping my nipples gently.

"Mingi, please wait," I whimpered pathetically when he let go of one of my hands to fondle my tits.

I shook my head frantically and a choked cry was torn from my when his other hand wrapped around my neck. He lifted his head up to glare at me.

"Stay still," he barked.

I felt his tongue lick my lips, trying to push them apart. I whined in reluctance, trying to turn my head away, but Mingi quickly let my neck go to the back of my head and tugged my hair roughly on his hands. I cried out and struggled when he bit my bottom lip.

I inhaled a deep breath sharply when he pulled away to stare at me as I shuddered. I tensed when he started leaning down again slowly. He let go of my hair to press a thumb on my jaw, smirking darkly as he forced my mouth open.

"You're so beautiful like this," he murmured. "Naked, shaking like a leaf, and all mine."

He ravaged my mouth once more, tugging on my hair a little bit. When I refused to cooperate, he murmured another warning against my mouth, this time with more threat. His tongue played with mine, and he groaned against me, and plunged his tongue deeper.

I felt my body trembling more, the wetness down there was becoming impossible to ignore at his touch, and I was aching for relief at this point.

Tears fell from my eyes at the roughness and tenderness he was making me feel, and I felt nothing but confusion. He wiped my tears away with his fingers.

"Don't cry," he whispered.

"C-Can we do this next time?" I begged.

His penetrating glare left me fumbling for words, and yet submissive to his touch, unsure if I should hate him for doing this, or liking it because it was him.

I knew one thing, I felt undeniably safe with him.

"Darling, please, I'm not going to hurt you," Mingi pleaded when I began thrashing around, trying to get away from his criminal hold, by pushing his body towards me. "You want this just much as I do--"

"Fuck you," I spat on his face. Shock filled his face as he wiped the spit absentmindedly.

His eyes widened before mania and fury fueled his features. "Don't worry, I plan to."

I was expecting something rough and unrestrained, but no, Mingi kissed me softly, lovingly, and I couldn't help but kiss him back with equal emotions. His hands went everywhere - my hair, neck, stomach - until it reached its goal down there.

Panic surged through me and I tried to struggle, but he held my legs down with his and trapped me with his chest.

"Mingi," I wailed.

"Shut up," he hissed, ignoring my pleas.

Something about the way he said it made me extremely wet. It was such a dark arousal, too. Mingi groaned loudly, his fingers felt my damp pussy, rubbing and pressing on it. I bit my lips to stop the moans that were wanting to spill out of me.

"Baby," Mingi rumbled, pulling my bottom lip out of my mouth. "Do not, and I mean, do not hold back on me, yeah? I want to hear your pretty sounds..."

It's not like he gave me a choice, I let out a breathy moan when he slipped a finger in, pushing in deeper until he was knuckles deep. I unconsciously squeezed around his finger and that made him even crazier.

"Oh sweetheart," he choked out. "You are incredibly tight, my angel."

He started stroking in and out, sliding with ease and finger fucked me faster and rougher than he did when he were at the train station. I moaned when he curled his fingers up and started rubbing that sweet spot.

"M-Mingi," I moaned erotically. "P-Please, slow down for m-me."

He kissed my neck, his lips nipping at the soft flesh there. "How?" he groaned against my skin. "Do you not hear that?"

The loud, squelching sound from my wet pussy as he drilled his finger relentlessly in me was driving me crazy. I gasped when his pace got faster, his palms were hitting my clit aggressively and I felt my orgasm slowly approaching me.

"No," Mingi growled. I whined in protest when he pulled out. He grabbed my jaws roughly. "You won't come, not until I say so," he snarled.

He stood and quickly got rid of his pants, his hands shaking with anticipation as removed the last piece of clothing he had - his boxers.

I stopped and watched him stroking his already hard cock, and he looked directly at me, his eyes hazed with lust and madness, his strokes going slower when I swallowed. He wasn't the biggest I've been with, but he was the thickest.

The length of it was veiny, the head of it red with the need to be inside me. I gulped when I realized that he was going to be inside me.

"Look how hard you make me, precious," his eyes were lethal and ferocious. "I'm sorry, but I can't take it anymore."

Before I could say anything, a startled cry left my lips when he mounted me, roughly pushing my thighs apart to let himself in for the invasion he was going to do.

"Mingi--oh!" I whined when he shoved his fingers back in my pussy and stroked in and out like the madman he was. I struggled repeatedly, thrashing my legs and kicking him as hard as I possibly could.

"Resistance is useless, stop it!" Mingi shouted, making me stop in my acts and stare at him dumbfounded.

He tiredly buried his head on the crook of my neck. "I will give you anything and everything you want and more," he whispered in distress and desperation. "Just please give in to me, baby, please ."

The way he was begging broke something in me. "It doesn't work like that," I sighed.

"Then don't hate me," was all he said before he pushed into me in one thrust of his hips, almost tearing me into two.

I choked out a loud moan as my nails dug into his back. "M-Mingi," I gasped in broken moans.

He stayed still inside me for what seemed like a lifetime, shushing me and whispering the gentlest of words into my ears as he gave me little kisses here and there.

I knew he was corrupting me, but the feel of him inside me sent stars in my vision. It was the corruption, the alternation, between him being rough and then into being the most affectionate man.

Mingi withdrew all of a sudden, then thrust deeply, both of us letting out pleasure filled moans that echoed all over the room.

"I'm going to have you now, okay?" he said.

Without waiting for my reply, he thrust into me hard, over and over and over again. I felt my body being filled delightfully, the sensation of Mingi's cock seemingly swallowing all the words I intended to hurl at him.

His thrusts quickened, each thrust making me cry out loud and moaning louder and louder, not caring if anybody heard me from outside.

"Oh, fuck, my love," Mingi groaned, looking me directly in the eyes as he hovered over me. "You feel so fucking good."

He leaned down to kiss me roughly. "You're all mine, okay? You're fucking mine."

It was the moment when I knew that I couldn't hold back anymore. No matter how hard I tried to deny it, maybe I was his, after all. It was fucked up, but goddamn it, I wanted him.

"I'm all yours," I cried out. "Please, please fuck me--ngh!"

He groaned at my sudden surrender to him, reaching down with one hand to rub my clit as he fast as he was fucking into me. He locked his lips into mine in a demanding kiss.

"Your pussy feels so fucking good," his deep voice bought out a different type of pleasure in me. "Wrap your legs around me, my love."

I obeyed him without questions, moaning his name out loud when he reached even deeper than before. He buried his face in my neck as he fucked faster, harder, and deeper.

"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck..."

"You want me to go harder, baby?"

"Yes! "Well, you better start begging."

“Please, Mingi, please…”

His cock filled my pussy harder until I felt the tip touch the end of my walls. In a moment of complete bliss, I grabbed his face and locked eyes with him. The surprise in his eyes made him buck his hips roughly. "Is my angel a slut, after all?" he smirked.

My body shuddered against him, and I felt a pleasure that intensified with the degrading name - slut.

"I love you," he whispered abruptly.

The sincerity in his eyes made my chest tighten and explode. "Since when?" I croaked out.

"I don't know," he smiled through the pleasure he felt. "I just do."

It was a feeling I knew all too well, as I felt the same.

A surge of bravery passed through me, maybe it was all from the payback and I want to get even. "Prove it," I smirked.

"Oh, you're going to be the death of me," he growled.

I screamed his name over and over again as he fucked his desires into me, until a strangled groan from him made his thrusts more desperate and sloppier.

His moans were getting higher and higher in pitch until he was nothing more than a whining, moaning mess. It turned me on to the highest degree.

"Come with me, love, please," he begged. "I need it..."

It was all I needed to hear, and there was no turning back. He broke an orgasm out of me, stripping me of any plans to defy him ever again.

His groans of pleasure matched his slowing thrusts and with a final plunge forward, hot cum filled began filling me. The little kisses he planted all over my face while whispering the dirtiest things with the most affectionate tone gave me the shivers.

He laid on top of me tiredly, and I was expecting him to stay like that because we were both tired and spent, but no. "Mingi?" I asked in confusion.

I was confused, I whined when he pulled out, going down on me to stare at my swollen pussy. It was so embarrassing, him being so close and personal down there.

"W-What are you doing?" I moaned again when I felt his fingers push back his cum back inside me.

"Can't let all of this go to waste, yes?" he smirked before diving in.

I almost had another orgasm at the sight. I felt Mingi eat me out hurriedly, holding my legs so I don't shut them close. The slurping sounds were so obscene.

Suddenly, he stopped and got back on top of me with the cockiest smirk on his face. He leaned down, forcefully opened my mouth, then opened his.

"Mmph!" I groaned lewdly, wide-eyed, but suddenly wet all over again.

I felt something wet, sticky, go in my mouth when Mingi kissed me - cum. He had just sucked his own cum from my pussy, and spit it out in my mouth.

"That's a good girl," he smirked, wiping his mouth with his hands. "Take it all in for me..."

He leans back at me again and I expectedly open my mouth for him again. His cum dribbled slowly from his mouth to mine and we both groaned at the erotic sight. "Swallow," he said.

I savoured his taste and swallowed, just like he wanted to. He bit his lips at my lewdness. "You did not just do that," I was bewildered.

"And what if I did?" Mingi smirked.

We lay next to each other, not saying a word, and just taking in what transpired between the two of us. I lay on Mingi's chest, tracing the tattoo on his chest.

"What's it for?" I asked absentmindedly.

"That, my love, is a brand that we wear to prove our loyalty," he replied patiently, rubbing my arms up and down. "Hongjoong drew it, himself."

"Does everyone have them?"

"Yes," he hummed. "Yunho has his on his chest too, Wooyoung and San both have theirs on their thighs. Hongjoong on his right wrist, Seonghwa on the left, Jongho on his arm, Yeosang on his back."

"I see," I replied lazily, laying back on his chest and just staying there. It wasn't awkward at all, I just felt relaxed with Mingi like this.

"You didn't reply to me earlier," Mingi's deep voice accused.

"With what?" I frowned, not even bothering to open my eyes.

"I told you I love you, I meant what I said," he sighed. "It wasn't a spur of the moment thing."

"But Mingi, this is only the second time we've seen each other, how can you love me?" I whispered, my tongue burning because I knew I was bullshitting myself with that.

"Don't be a hypocrite, precious," he chuckled. I huffed and he laughed. "You forget I'm the Don, I can see right through you."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I rolled my eyes playfully, turning away from him.

He grabbed me gently and gave me a quick kiss. I blushed when he kissed my nose. "Admit it," he pressed.

"Admit what?"

"That you're slowly falling in love with me," he grinned. "Just like I am with you, my queen."

I cursed under my breath. "Why do you keep calling me that?" I frowned, trying to divert the topic.

"I'll take that as a yes," he laughed. "You mean 'my queen'? So you get used to it since I want you by my side when I rule."

"Bold of you to assume I'll agree," I murmured.

"I mean, we already fucked each other's brains out, I'm just saying--"

"Mingi!"

We laughed out loud, and we laughed even harder when all we heard from outside the door were:

'Ha! Woo, you fucking owe me $50, I told you they'll make up!'

'Yeah, but the bet was if they make up before fucking, San!'

'I don't give a fuck. Hwa, you owe me too!'

'Me?! That was Yeosang!'

"Boss!"

I was startled when Mingi suddenly covered my whole naked body with the blanket protectively. Somebody just came through the door without knocking.

"Choi Jongho," Mingi seethed, shaking in anger. "It better be good or I swear I will shoot you on the spot."

"Ah," I heard our lovely driver fumble by the door. "Well, Hongjoong saw somebody steal the car in the garage."

Mingi sighed loudly. "Which one?"

"The white one."

"Well, did they break your legs first?"

"What?"

"I said," Mingi inhaled sharply. "Did they break your legs first?"

I stroked Mingi's thighs to calm him down. Though it turned me on to see him mad - sue me, he was hot - I liked Jongho and I don't want to see him dead yet.

"No," Jongho replied.

"So go and fucking chase it down, then!" Mingi howled. "Did you really have to go to me for that? Get the hell out of my room, out!"

"Hey, this is my house!" I heard Yunho shout from a distance.

"That I gave you!" Mingi screamed back.

I couldn't stop the laughter that erupted from my throat. I suppose it wouldn't be too bad trying to get along with everyone and see where this journey takes us. When Jongho shut the door, I peeked out from the blanket to find Mingi already staring at me.

"So," Mingi cleared his throat. "What now?"

I attempted to stifle a grin, but I failed. "Luckily for you, I like having power as well."

"Good," he beamed. I was in awe, where was the rugged and brusque man I met on the train station?

He bought out documents from the bedside table and began writing on it. "I just have to write your name in the official document so the enemy does not touch you," he explained when he saw me look at him curiously.

"They're eventually going to find out about you," he continued. "You have an English name, love?"

"Why?" I asked.

"For overseas," he shrugged. "Our operations extend out there, believe it or not."

I looked at him apprehensively. When Mingi saw me hesitate, he spoke up. "We'll take it one step at a time, okay?" he tenderly said. "I know this is a lot of change, but I promise you, nobody will hurt you. Hurting you will equate to hurting me as well. Any family I should know of?"

My heart swelled incredibly so. I was scared, terrified even, but I had a good feeling about him and everything that will come next.

"No," I smiled sadly. "I'm an orphan. And it's Rinoa."

He stopped in his tracks and looked up to meet my eyes. "You're very strong," he said with a small smile. "You have me and the boys now, no more worrying alone, okay? Put down your college information too, I'll pay for it from now on."

My eyes widened. "You don't have to," I whispered. "I've been managing on my own for years now."

"I know, love, but part of being mine is letting me take care of you. Let me take this burden off of your shoulders, okay?"

I wanted to tear up. I was confused, but felt very happy. "I hope you don't let me down," I whispered. " Or I'm going to beat you up," I grinned afterwards.

Mingi grinned back, kissing my hands tenderly. "I promise I'll give you everything and make you happy, and I'm sorry for all the stuff I put you through."

"No more lies?" I pointed out.

Mingi shook his head. "No more lies."

"So what's your English name too?"

Mingi chuckled. "I won't lie," he smirked. "But I never said I won't ask for some sort of payment."

I rolled my eyes and kissed him on the cheeks. His eyes widened in response. "That was fast," he laughed. "Look at you already wanting to know things about myself."

"Glad to know you're still the cocky man I met," I laughed. "Would've been weird if you just suddenly changed."

I looked at him expectantly with a cheeky smile. He laughed out loud before responding. "It's Stellan.”

"It suits you," I commented.

We stared at each other, just taking in the other person. Little by little, we'll get to each other, and it starts right here, and right now. "Come here," he began

He lifted me up to put me on his lap so I could straddle him and pulled me towards him until our lips danced in a game of truce.

I fell into his rhythm naturally as his arms wrapped around me and held me lovingly. I had found my lover with Mingi, and I had fallen in love with him.

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