My Wife (ao3) Is Dying Of Tuberculosis (down Again) And She Grows More Faint Each Day (keeps Going Down

my wife (ao3) is dying of tuberculosis (down again) and she grows more faint each day (keeps going down almost every fucking day)

I am so not okay, it's not even a joke anymore

— 『 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋; 𝐨𝐭8 』 [4] (M)

— 𝚠𝚘𝚗 • 𝚍𝚎𝚛 • 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕, adjective. having someone who serves as a pillar in your life, who offers a sturdy place to lean in times of trouble. somebody you find yourself thinking about constantly and are completely infatuated with.

❝humans were such strange creatures. wretched in their mere existence. none of the eight were ever truly interested in them until they found you. they just find it strange that despite their status and rank, you'd rather spend time with your lover. that isn't much of a problem, though. one they can fix with ease.❞

〘ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ, ᴍʏᴛʜ, ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ꜰᴀᴇʀɪᴇꜱ〙(m.list)

— pairing: ot8 x reader, mxm; mingi x reader (this chapter); 9.6k

— note: this is a yandere fic. sensitive topics such as manipulation, gaslighting, murder, and other topics involved with the genre. please heed the warnings and read this work of fiction while keeping this in mind. also note: these chapters are very much introductory of each character & their roles, so smut is further down the line ♡.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: murder references, manipulation, blood, dark magic, kidnapping, emotional turmoil, injuries, smut referenced

Chapter 4:

"Do you think she's fairing well?" Wooyoung steps over a pile of debris, slipping closer to him. "The others are taking care of her?"

"What is with you and this woman?" Yeosang glances at him. Wooyoung's fingers are outstretched, his hand slipping into his with ease. The latter says nothing to deter his touch, knowing it's something that calms him. "Do you desire her?"

"Yes," Wooyoung shrugs. "But that's not the only reason. She's simple but different. She can't fall for my tricks because I can't manipulate her mind. Everything she says to me is genuine. I can't help but want her to want me. Is that wrong?"

"She is a human, nothing she says is genuine. Have you forgotten what we are?" Yeosang pulls Wooyoung closer as he steps over a fallen trunk. It's not too old – it may be no more than a few days since its demise. He places his palm against the trunk, whispering a spell before turning back to him. "Unseelie aren't kind to humans. And she will find out that you were the one who killed her lover, Woo. I doubt she'll take that well."

"I'm not going to tell her that," Wooyoung waves him off. "Besides, the male was so boring. She'll be much more entertained by our spark."

Yeosang holds up a hand, stopping him from speaking. Leaves crunch in the distance, Yeosang whispering a spell unto his free hand and pulling Wooyoung closer. He holds his breath, watching as the faeries appear in the small meadow. The spell he has cast only lasts for a few minutes or so. He can only hope that neither of them linger. The Seelie stay close to each other, rapid words exchanged.

"The human is resistant to faeries? How can that be?"

Neither of them speak, but Yeosang can feel how Wooyoung's shoulder tenses at the words.

"Yeonjun told us. He tried to penetrate her mind but she did not blink. Not one human on this Earth could stop him from entering their mind. She is the sole being."

"Then did he take her?"

"Not yet, not until he catches them off guard. Tonight he set the example, though. I doubt the Unseelie will be able to fight back after that mess. Bodies are everywhere."

Wooyoung’s eyes widen. He presses his hand against his mouth, closing his eyes to control his anger. His body trembles beneath the low light. Hongjoong instructed them that it was a brief mission, no bloodshed. But would he have guessed that the Seelie would cause their own to be deceased? Yeosang's hand grabs the side of Wooyoung's face, forcing him to look. Yeosang merely shakes his head, mouthing words.

Do not lose yourself.

Wooyoung nods slowly, taking slow breaths. They've missed a bit of the conversation.

"He will get her? That is his goal?"

"His goal is to hurt Hongjoong. Nothing else matters besides that. The human is just another body is his way."

They disappear from sight. Just as they do, the Unseelie bodies shimmer, appearing back in focus of onlookers. Wooyoung falls to the grass, fingers digging into the dirt. "They plan to kill my sunlight. My solaris. They will rid of her and we aren't there to see what they've done. We have to go back. We have to –"

"We aren't done, Wooyoung," Yeosang shakes his head. "Just a few more days. Hold on for a few more days."

"They've killed faeries, Yeosang. What if they killed one of our spark? What if Yunho–"

"You know they haven’t. Don't let yourself fall down that hole. We already have enough unstable mates, I don't need another one to fall apart right in front of me. Don't delude yourself like this," Yeosang ignores his words, sighing. "You would have felt it, Wooyoung. We are bonded. We would have felt the tear."

Wooyoung takes a long breath, "You're right. I need to calm down."

There's a pause as he stares. For a moment, he thinks that they should go back. For his peace of mind. Instead, he moves forward, hand reaching back. Without a moment's pause Wooyoung’s fingers slip into his, letting Yeosang guide him through.

—

Seonghwa wipes the floor. The stench is always overpowering. Each time a Seelie dies they leave behind such a putrid smell. A bit funny, considering how pure they are meant to be. He reaches for the knife you dropped, pausing. The look you gave them. It was like it was not you at all. He has grown used to the annoyance you've shown them, the fear when their words turned sharp. But not that kind of fear, terror. The glazed look. As if you didn't know who you are, what you were doing. It eerily reminded him of how Yunho loses himself sometimes. Seonghwa picks up the weapon, whispering. It cleanses itself at his words, harshly throwing itself back into its spot. Hopefully for good.

Jongho helped you off the floor, nearly carrying you to the room because you were so out of it. Hongjoong stared as you stepped out of the room, an unreadable expression on his face. There was nothing to be done then. Nothing they could speak about when you couldn't even think clearly. But Seonghwa just didn't like the look on his mate's face. Didn't like the slight gleam in his eye. In that moment, looking back now, he wonders if asking Hongjoong what he was thinking would change anything that’s soon to come.

He stands, flicking his hand to let the cleaning supplies pick up the rest. He sits at his table, eyeing the book he was reading once before. Seonghwa considered that you weren't a human. But he pushed those thoughts away. Assumed that he was thinking too far ahead. But now, seeing how you killed a Seelie? A human, killing a Seelie without any help? There's no possible way you're just a human.

He just has to figure out what you are exactly.

"You've been locked in here for hours."

Seonghwa barely gives Mingi a glance as he enters with hands tucked in his pockets, knowing the Unseelie would only try to calm him down. Or get angry with him, it depends on the day. "Hiding from us won't make our minds calm."

"I'm trying to figure out what's going on. Having you all speaking over each other in confusion and anger will only taint my thoughts."

"You used to find comfort in the chaos. It looks like you avoid it now. And continuously buy those toys of yours."

"You didn't have a problem with my figurines before," Seonghwa frowns.

"And I still don't now. I just can’t help but wonder why we can't be that safe place for you instead of plastic."

Seonghwa looks up from his book, finally meeting the eyes of his mate. Dried blood coats his face and clothing, white splatters burned into the fabric. He can see how his body trembles, bottom lip pulled back between his teeth. His chest tightens at the sight. Mingi lets their combined emotions affect him often. No matter how much they all insisted that he let them deal with it on their own.

Seonghwa closes his book. "You're upset."

"I want us, all of us, to be okay. But it seems like danger follows us no matter which path we take."

He sighs. "If you want us to get rid of her we will."

"I don't want that, hyung."

"Then what? What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to talk to us. Tell us how you're feeling. Stop hiding in the laboratory or library or the forest. At least try to let us in. Do you know how long it took me to calm Yunho down? I don't even think I have, he just stressed himself out to the point of exhaustion. I'm –" Mingi runs his bloodstained fingers through his hair. "I'm stuck. And I'm tired of pretending I'm okay with it all. I listen to Hongjoong's words even though I question them. I guard what you all want me to guard. I kill who you want me to kill. But I just can't stand around and accept it anymore. How long must I pretend to believe that everything is okay?"

Seonghwa watches Mingi's facade break, his rambling continuing on and on. He cannot believe he didn't notice how much it affected him. Sure, he was thoroughly involved with you, but that's no excuse to not see when one of his mates is falling into themselves. He covers his face with his hands, not bothering to wipe the blood off.

"Yunho is so lost, Seonghwa. I've seen him gone, but not like this. Not this much."

"I can talk to him," Seonghwa says softly. "You can be there too. And any of the others. Would you like that from me?"

“Yes,” Mingi murmurs. There seems to be something else in his voice. Mingi isn’t one to hide his feelings, so it comes as a shock that this is even a conversation at all. So Seonghwa continues to dig.

“And I’ll figure out how to persuade Hongjoong to take a more careful route. How about that?”

Relief seeps into Mingi’s face, nodding slowly. “I would like that.”

“Everything will be fine, Mingi. We just have to take it all one step at a time,” Seonghwa says softly. “If you’re ever bothered, I’m here. We all are.”

Mingi continues to nod, thinking. “And the human? What if we have to kill her?”

Seonghwa looks at him, unable to answer that question. Despite it being mere months since knowing of your existence, he can’t justify killing you now. Not when he is so involved with you, along with the others. Mingi seems to know the answer without Seonghwa saying anything at all. So he sits beside him, watching his mate continue to flip through the endless amount of research he has done.

After a couple of minutes, Seonghwa closes his research. Mingi watches him curiously, a box appearing on the table instead. A bit cheeky, Seonghwa places several smaller boxes of toys in front of him. Mingi picks up one, a photo of an assortment of plastic flowers branded to the side.

"I planned on gifting these to you all after I build them, but I think it'll be more fun to build together with you, don't you think?"

Mingi looks at him. He never really shares his hobby with anyone else in the spark, maybe San once in a while. Him opening up and allowing Mingi to intercept his time only makes his heart swell with glee. Mingi nods, sitting down at the table.

"It'll be fun," Seonghwa grins, slipping next to him.

—

The silence is draining.

You sit in the middle of the bed, knees tucked against your chest, head sitting on top. Mind utterly blank as you’re desperately trying to figure out why, how. What strength do you have to just murder a Seelie without help from one of the others?

You can remember the looks on their faces when they entered. Blood stinging your eyes, knife barely held between your fingers. The indiscernible face of the Seelie beneath the weapon. It didn’t look like one at all, not even a creature. Just a pile of parts. You try pushing those thoughts away, even if the image is burned in your mind each time you blink.

“Do you take us for fools?”

You barely give him any indication that you heard him at all.

“Now you pretend not to hear my words?”

“I’ve done nothing to you at all so I’m not sure why you’re even speaking to me,” you admit, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. His arms against his chest seem to cement themselves in place at your words. Him being furious with you is on the absolute bottom of your list. You haven’t even properly introduced yourself and he’s already pegged you for someone he can walk over. You’ve already been through it with Mingi. You’d rather not deal with it again.

“Your presence is threatening our position.”

“If you let me go none of this would have even happened. How is it my fault?” You frown.

San scoffs. “What a nuisance.”

“Look,” you finally turn your head, meeting the eyes of the angry Unseelie. “You can hate me all you want, but I didn’t choose to be here. Go and get pissed off with someone else for all I care, but not me. I’d rather be at home than dealing with all of you.”

“You would be home by now, but it is unsafe. I could care less, frankly. But the others do.”

“Better than dealing with a room full of strange people,” you murmur.

“It is crawling with faeries, human. If you even step near it, you will be killed. Leaving our premises might as well be a death sentence. But fine, go ahead. I doubt you won't last more than a minute outside of our borders," he turns around, giving you his back.

You don't dare test his harsh words. There's no way to prove that he's exaggerating or not, so you just settle it for yourself that it must be true. You can't help the thoughts that linger; Is Soobin okay? Would they attack him if he decided to show up at your house one day? Has he entered town at all? Have your parents tried to contact you? Why hasn't anyone noticed you're gone? There's no reason to ask San because he would just give half truths. Something you're very much used to.

You hold your fingers against your temple, humming softly. It's not enough that you're staying here. You'll only be ridiculed by one of them. Frankly, you miss Wooyoung being around. At least he was a comfort in between the angst. And what was his name… Jongho? Though your interaction was brief, he was kind to you. Calmed you down in the slightest bit. His words of comfort as he led you to this room helped.

"Do you know what you did to that thing? Why I'm standing here now? Do you even realize what it takes to take down a Seelie, human?"

"No, I don't. And my name is y/n, not human."

San stares at you. You weren't afraid of him since you've met him, but there is something in that look. Something that makes you tense. You truly doubt he would kill you at mere words. But he could kill you if he wanted to. That thought is enough for you to drop your attitude, at least for now.

"Taking down a Seelie requires strength unlike humans. Majik, unwavering strength. Mental fortitude. You have to know how to kill one, our flesh isn't as soft as a human's. We haven't been killed by one in centuries. So can you see why we're cautious of you?"

"I do," you sigh. "I do, but I don't even know how I did it? It's… there's nothing there. Nothing. When I try to think of it it's like it didn't even happen. I just remember entering the room, then Seonghwa came in and opened the door. And I had a knife in my hand. That's it."

"Why did you say what you said?" San asks.

"Say what?"

"You held the knife in your hand, you looked at Jongho. Then you said you didn't mean to. You looked terrified despite the situation. As if you didn't just kill one of the deadliest beings on this planet."

"I don't know."

"You have to know."

"San, I don't know."

Just as San steps forward your bedroom door opens. Expecting someone else, maybe Wooyoung, Mingi stands there. His eyes flick between yours and San, narrowing slightly. He nudges to the door as he looks at him. San's arms drop from his chest. He seems a bit hesitant. Mingi gestures toward the door again.

"I don't want you to be alone here with her," San murmurs.

"She won't hurt me."

It's as if you're not there at all. San continues to resist, until Mingi rests his hand on his arm. It's enough for San to nod slowly. He squeezes his arm, leaving the room. Mingi shuts the door behind him as he leaves, turning to you.

"Sleep."

"Sleep?" You repeat, and he nods.

"Sleep. We have a long day tomorrow. Yeosang and Wooyoung won't be back for days. But when they do come back, they'll have news. And we'll need to be prepared for that."

"I don't understand."

"Human," Mingi says sharply. "I get it, you're incompetent and unintelligent. But you do understand the language I'm speaking, no? You haven't the slightest idea what you have done? Did San not explain the danger to you? You killed Beomgyu, y/n."

Another name that continues to mean nothing to you. Mingi's frustration grows.

"He is a high Seelie. One of the most powerful faeries on this Earth. And you killed him. Now sleep. We must prepare you for what is to come."

He leaves.

—

You stare at your hands. A few cuts are slowly healing, scabs covering the wounds. None of them have mentioned the night. Not even San, as angry as he seems to be watching you roam around their home. Hongjoong hasn't been seen by you either. Very likely locked in that laboratory of his, experiments continuing. Mingi and perhaps Jongho, are the only two who've either greeted you or joined you in rooms. Yunho, despite how worried you are, hasn't showed up since that night. Mentioning it to Mingi wasn't the greatest idea – the painful look in his eyes made you switch the subject immediately – but you just want to know if he's okay. You saw that Seelie drag him away and there was little you could do. You ran, and he could have been killed. The least you can offer is an apology. Guilt ridden, you look up from your hands.

Mingi holds out the wooden sword to you for the nth time today. With great exhaustion, you take it from his hands. He scoffs. "You will be given a break if you knock it from my hands, human. It shouldn't be this difficult."

You hold back your frustration. "My leg is still messed up. You're taller and faster than me. How could I –"

"Use your size as an advantage. I've told you this endlessly."

"You haven't given me an opening!" Your voice rises, dropping when you see the quirk of his brow. "I just need an opening," you murmur.

"Fighting a Seelie who's trained since birth to kill won't allow for an opening. You have to defend and attack. Each time I raise my sword you freeze. You will die if none of us are around."

"I survived before."

"And you have yet to understand why or how it happened. You're at a loss just like the rest of us. Don't be foolish. Fight, because your life will depend on it."

You step back from him, planting your feet into the grass. Mingi holds no weapons in his hands. Just as you still forward Mingi flicks his fingers. Your body hits the ground again, and this time you don't bother trying to get up, groaning. "You're an ass, by the way. Didn't you all say those powers don't work on me? How can you just throw me to the ground?"

"Our influence does not work on your mind, y/n. But we can still move you. You just have to learn how to resist just like your mind has. Once you master that, we can move to true combat."

"I don't know why you can't mess with my mind!"

"Another reason why you have to stop using your pity as an excuse and help yourself. Stand and try again," he holds out his hand.

"She will be dead from exhaustion before she has even learned it," the snarky tone is one you wish you'd never hear again. Mingi stands up straighter, hands moving behind his back. He bows only slightly at the newcomer. "We have to move quickly. It is only a matter of time until one of them decides to penetrate our majik. Do you not agree?"

"I do," Mingi says simply. "But I thought you were with Yunho today."

"Jongho is tending to his care now. I've come to watch you train. By the looks of it, it only seems like torture."

You slowly lift yourself from the ground, dusting off your clothing. Mingi does not bother helping you up and neither does Hongjoong. Your legs shake as you stand, turning to Hongjoong. He rests against a fallen tree. Arms crossed, same mischievous twinkle in his eye. His gaze roams over your body, stopping when he sees the disgusted look on your face.

"What a weak, little thing. Too bad we can't just get rid of you." His fingers pull back his hair. The exhaustion riddled on his face does not move past you. All of them seem tired and drained from what's been happening. Yourself as well, body aching and limbs throbbing from your brief encounter with the Seelie you've killed. Killed.

You'd never in your life peg yourself as a murderer. And yet here you are. Gathered around many of them, yourself included. At this point you have no right to judge.

"I've already said what I needed to to you," you murmur, turning back to Mingi. "Again." You step forward and he lifts his hand again. This time you fall forward, his arm stopping you from hitting the ground head first. You push it away, straightening yourself. "Fuck this."

"You have to train–"

"I can barely walk straight and all we're going now is creating more and more bruises. What are we achieving? How have I gained anything in the past few hours?"

Mingi's brow twitches. "You haven't tried."

"I don't know if you remember but, I am a human. I can't just learn to be as strong as you by being battered over and over. I won't suddenly be able to fight against you."

Your frustration grows as you look at Mingi, a blank gaze watching you back. It's like he can't even hear what you're saying, no matter how you phrase it. Hongjoong clears his throat, distracting you.

"She's right, you know. I want you to train her. Not mangle her up to the point of her being unrecognizable." He glances at you. "y/n, do you not remember the night at all? Not a sliver of memory? It would make this all easier if you did."

"No, I don't," you say firmly. "If I did, I wouldn't let myself be thrown to the ground over and over again."

Hongjoong shrugs, "Then that settles it all, no? Mingi, change. We will be dining together shortly. Human, you do the same. Seonghwa will see you after this."

"What for –"

Hongjoong disappears from existence entirely, leaving Mingi and you alone. He steps around you, grabbing the wooden swords scattered about on the ground and placing it back in its holder. Just as he goes to leave, he turns back. "You don't seem to understand the situation we are under because of you. I've advocated for your death but everyone wants to keep you around because of your resistance to us. I hope sometime soon you find yourself useful, or I'll be the one to end your life."

There is no chance for you to twist his words, nothing that would make you believe anything other than what he's said to you. He speaks firmly and straight to the point. Very unlikely the rest of the Unseelie you've met. There's no room for interpretation. You nod, and he leaves you alone in the training field.

Ignoring the throbbing in your legs, you make your way back to the house. Despite how open it is, it’s only a facade - you’re not sure if you’ll ever be able to leave. And now, knowing how much danger you’re in, you doubt you even want to.

Jongho appears through a doorway, holding a book in his hand. His gaze meets yours, flicking over you. “Are you okay?” He glances down at your leg. “Not much time has passed since you were all mangled.”

You snort, “As good as I can be.”

He joins you promptly, the two of you walking down the hall. It’s funny - his presence feels more welcoming than the others. Softer eyes, smaller smile. Nervous maybe, but still. You’d describe it as comforting.

“What are you reading?” You ask. He looks down at the book.

“San gave this to me. It’s about faeries from human tales. It’s quite interesting. Tinkling bells is my favorite,” he adds, “Ever heard of her? Apparently she’s really famous.”

“Tinker bell?” You correct, and he sighs.

“Right, Tinker bell.”

“Yes I have,” you grin, and he nods. “Why’d he give that to you? He seems like he hates humans, doesn’t seem like the type to want to learn about us. From what I’ve seen,” you add. “He avoids me every chance he gets.”

“San is…” Jongho pauses for a moment. “He protects us fiercely, yes. He hates you now because he thinks you’re a threat. But once Seonghwa figures out why you’re the way you are, things will change. It’s silly, you're slowly falling into our hearts, so he will protect you as he protects us sooner rather than later. And he enjoys human entertainment a lot. I'm sure once he gets over himself you two would get along well.” His words are easily said.

Falling into their hearts?

“You care for me? Some of you do?” you stop walking. Jongho freezes, grip on his book tightening.

“I’ve said too much,” he says quickly. “They will be angry with me,” he sighs, looking down the hall. Seemingly making the decision on his own, he turns back to you. “Yes we do care for you, y/n. Why do you think we fiercely protect you? It is not only because we’re curious about your nature. We’ve known you for a while now. Even if all of us haven’t really officially met you. We are bonded. Our care lives within us all. Mostly Wooyoung’s fault,” he scowls. “He’s stuck on you.”

“That is the spark thing Yunho mentioned to me, right? It's like a pack.”

Jongho nods, “Yes. Once we’ve chosen to be in our spark, we are glued to each other. If one of us is hurt we all know, if one of us feels strongly about something, we all feel it. So that’s why it’s so easy for us to find your presence in our lives… normal? Ordinary? I’m not really great at human words.”

“No no,” you wave off his last sentence. “You speaking to me like this is enough. And you’re very eloquent, Jongho. No need to doubt.”

His lip quirks slightly. “I can see why they’ve grown fond of you. But yes, that’s why. Ah, but more importantly,” he digs into his pocket. A rock appears in his hand, similar to one Yunho gave you at the masquerade. “Yunho asked me to place a spell on this. To monitor your health, nothing more.” He says quickly. “I cannot lie.”

“...Thanks,” you take it, staring down at the surface. “Is Yunho okay?”

He bites his lip, “He’s recovering. But it’s best if you stay away until he’s fully himself. That’s what he asked us to do. I’m sorry I can’t say anything more.”

“You’ve said what you’ve needed to, Jongho. Thank you. I’ll see you at dinner?”

He bows slightly, walking past you and out of sight. You hold the rock tightly, making your way back to your room.

—

Seonghwa doesn't come to lead you to his lab for a few weeks and that you're grateful for. Rarely have you gotten the chance to be alone. Dinner that night was uncomfortable to say the least. Silence mostly. Three seats empty. Jongho gave you small smiles and it was enough to help you get through it. But still - the future of you dealing with them watching you with caution is not one you’re yearning for.

The door to your room swings open, almost cracking against the wall. Before you can even turn to see who it is, your breath is knocked out of you. You hit the floor, well almost, he holds you up with his hand before you land. Wooyoung almost squeezes the life out of you as he holds you close, body trembling.

“You’re okay,” He whispers into your shoulder. You grip his sleeve to pull him off, and he leans back, eyes flicking over your face. “You’re okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. You can let me go,” you tug on him again and this time he does, helping you off the floor. Your body throbs at how he threw himself at you, bruises from whatever happened with that Seelie that night throbbing. “I see that you’re back.”

He grins, “Of course! I’ll always come back for you. I had to see Hongjoong first to report,” he rolls his eyes. “He told me to stay away from you since we don’t know what you are, but how could I leave my solaris alone?” he tilts his head, taking a small step toward you. Without thinking, you move back.

He frowns, “Solaris?”

“I’d rather be left alone, Wooyoung.”

He scoffs, brows furrowed. “What do you mean? Ah, is it because of what happened a few weeks ago? You don't need to worry, I know you won’t hurt me.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” you murmur.

“What are you saying? Don’t you know that I won’t hurt you?” It’s different from when you first met him. The snide grin, the teasing gaze. All replaced with seriousness, perhaps a bit of worry.

Are you sure of that? You know what they are, what they may or may not have done. None of them have even told you how they feed, how they hunt for their next meal. You could tell whenever they eat in front of you. The reluctance to take bites, the side glances they gave one another. You can fairly easily presume that it’s through horrid means. You’ve seen enough blood splattered around to be sure of that, at least. But will they hurt you?

Will he hurt you?

The silence must have been filling up the room too long, Wooyoung’s face dropping as he waits for your response. Would saying no be lying? It seems like each time you do lie he immediately knows. So, despite the hopeful look in his gaze, you tell him the truth.

“I don’t know that,” you whisper.

His body physically deflates, hands clenching and unclenching at your words. “You’re not lying.” It’s a statement, not a question. He closes his eyes for a moment, a breath escaping him. “I won’t hurt you, solaris. I won’t. Just as I trust that you won’t hurt me.”

His words ring as true as he means them to be, but yet… you can’t bring yourself to believe them. No matter how much you know that Unseelie cannot lie. “Okay,” you say.

“Why are you treating my words as if I’m lying?”

“Unseelie are sly.”

His eyes narrow. “I’m not lying about never hurting you, y/n. That’s not something I’d skirt around. I. Won’t. Hurt. You.”

“You say that,” you start, glancing at the open doorway. It would be silly of you to believe that you’re truly alone. All of these men you’ve met so far eavesdrop on every conversation in their home. “You say that, but if Hongjoong or Seonghwa told you to hurt me you would do it. Even if you don’t want to.”

“They wouldn’t ask–“

“But you don’t know that for sure, do you? You believe it now, but tomorrow, they could change their mind about me. What if San didn’t like my presence around here anymore? What if Yunho told you my time was up? Would you defy their words and save me? Would you?”

He stares at his hands, saying nothing.

"What if I hurt one of you like I did to that Seelie? Would you just stand by?"

"Don't say idiotic things."

"Then stop lying to yourself, Wooyoung. You do not care for me like them and you never will. Stop trying to force yourself to like me because I'm different. I don't like you, okay? I don't. So stop prying, and stop making yourself believe that there is something here when there's not."

Wooyoung stands up, shaking his head, "How could you lie?"

"For fucks sake–"

Wooyoung steps closer to you, your body sinking further into the seat. He places his hands on either side of your shoulders, eyes darkening. "You lie so easily. Why? Why do you do it?" His fingers slowly tighten. It's not enough to bruise you or hurt you, but it feels uncomfortable. If seconds continue to pass, he could just as easily break a bone.

"Let me go."

"You think we are mad? You think I am mad for caring about you? Do you have any sense yourself?"

"Let go, Wooyoung. You'll bruise her if you continue."

You look over, Mingi leaning against the doorframe. His expression is still as always, though now it rests on Wooyoung's grip. He seems to push through his thoughts, hands gone from your body. You stand up and move farther away. Closer to the entrance of the balcony. Wooyoung stares down at his hands, body trembling.

"Sorry," his tone is tight, looking up. "I got carried away."

“Hongjoong told you to stay away.”

He glances away, “I know.”

“And yet here you stand.”

Wooyoung looks at him, “Mingi –”

“Go. Before you make this worse for yourself. I won’t ask again.”

Wooyoung’s shoulders fall. He turns to see your expression but you’ve already given him your back, leaving to stand on the porch. Whatever commotion is happening behind you you’d rather avoid. Your heart hurts too much. He isn’t lying, you care for him. And you hate that you do. They’re Unseelie, beings that took you from your home because of curiosity. How could you care for them? How could you miss Wooyoung? The cool breeze hits your cheek as you slide open the door, sitting on the small stool resting against the wall. The night is clearer now that he’s back. You hate even more how the solid rock of worry in your chest is subdued since you’ve seen him. He was so close to hurting you, barely seconds away.

So why the Hell do you want to tell him it’s okay?

“He lets his emotions get the best of him,” the deep voice of Mingi fills the silence. He leans against the doorway, staring out into the night. “That’s why Hongjoong told him to stay away for a while. Though I doubt it would help that much, his excitement to see you would have only grown.”

“He cares too much about someone he doesn’t know,” you say.

“That I agree with,” Mingi nods, humming. “But you should be saying the same to yourself.”

“I don’t.”

“Human, we are Unseelie. We’ve witnessed your kind lying for centuries. I can read that expression of yours with ease,” he glances down at you. “I’m not hovering around you to pass the time. Since Yunho cannot do it right now, I’m here to watch you. Just say my name and I’ll be here. Though it is my fault right now that I didn’t come when I heard about Wooyoung and Yeosang walking around.” He rubs his face, “What a headache.”

“Thanks,” you say, looking back at the landscape. The moon is hiding tonight. “He didn’t want to listen to me.”

“Because he’s delusional,” he snickers. “Not wrong entirely, but trying to force the answer from you is very… silly. You’re welcome.”

He says nothing else and neither do you. The fear of him being around has subdued, whether it be from him getting used to your presence or not, you’re grateful. Walking on your toes is exhausting enough as it is. From the first training session to now, the two of you have grown closer. Laughs exchanged, quieter moments. None uncomfortable. Enough so that you would consider him a friend, along with Jongho. Despite this, you can't help but let your thoughts wander. It's been so long since you've seen people you actually know. One in particular that you hate you cannot get out of your head. You already have things to deal with on your own.

“You look like you have a lot on your mind,” he starts, closing the door behind him. He rests on the chair adjacent to yours, sitting down slowly. Ah, so he plans on staying around for a while. “Letting that weight continue will only break you in the end.”

You shrug, “It’s nothing.”

“If it was nothing you wouldn’t look so uncomfortable right now. It’s fine, I’d rather not push,” MIngi says. “But I know from experience that keeping it to yourself is not good. I may not be as comforting as Yunho or Jongho, but I’m a good listener.”

Is he? His kindness doesn’t feel fake. Still, you’re wary of his motives. After a couple more minutes of saying nothing, you push past your fear.

"I don't want to hurt anymore," you stare at your hands, watching as they tremble beneath your gaze. "I'm so tired of hurting so much, I'm tired of caring so much. He left me. He promised he wouldn't and he did. He left me, Mingi. He…" Your fists curled into themselves. "And the more I think about it the more pathetic I sound. I've been through that moment over and over again, trying to figure out what I've done, what I didn't see. But I was faithful to him, I did everything for us. I wasn't selfish. I loved him with everything that I have. And he still left me alone. Just like everyone else does. And I can't even ask him why he did it because he just left. He's gone."

A slow breath drags from between your lips. "And here I am, talking to an Unseelie about it. You probably think I'm pathetic or –"

"You keep using that word," Mingi narrows his eyes, thinking. "Pathetic. Like it's pathetic to feel emotions strongly. You know that you're allowed to feel, right?" He leans over, covering your outstretched hands with his. He’s warm. "I can't calm down your heart or tell you it will be okay, because I am just an Unseelie. We don't give empty promises. But what I can say is that you're not pathetic. His absence hurts. And you're allowed to be hurt. But you are not pathetic, y/n. Do you understand?"

There is some hesitance. Slowly, he reaches out, hand hovering over your cheek. He places it, flattening it against your skin. You warily lean into his palm. "You are not pathetic, okay?"

Eyes closed, you nod. "... Okay."

"You don't believe your words," Mingi frowns.

"Saying it and believing it are two different things."

“I told you to not lie when I can tell,” he says sharply. There’s no malice in it, frustration perhaps. But not anger. He pulls his hand away from you, standing. “Get some sleep. We’ll start again tomorrow.”

He leaves you alone on the porch. You tuck your knees close, the breeze chilly against your skin. You don’t realize it yourself, but that brief moment with him turned things for you. For some very strange reason, your thoughts no longer rested on your ex. Instead, they lingered on them. On everything that's happened since you've arrived.

They lingered on Mingi.

—

Seonghwa still hasn’t taken you back into his lab. You sit in the living room on a loveseat, eyes glued to the rest of the Unseelie. Most are here except Yunho and Seonghwa, speaking to each other about various things. San and Yeosang entwined on the seat across from you. His arm wrapped around the waist of Yeosang, words soft and quick. Almost too intimate for you to look at longer than a couple of seconds. Jongho flipping through pages of another book he has, likely given to him by San. Mingi beside him, eating an apple as he stares at nothing.

And then there’s the last two.

The feeling is subtle, at first. Hongjoong and Wooyoung laugh together. Hands roaming along each other's arms, legs entangled as they show each other the potions they have created. Annoyed glances filled with fondness. It is something that you've lost since Soobin left. Affection, especially around others, was never something he quite enjoyed. Sure, holding hands or embracing for a moment. But never this – effortless care. Whether it be from embarrassment of townsfolk noticing the two of you, or uncomfort. But watching them as an outsider just makes the feeling rise, chest throbbing. Ah, now you understand the feeling.

Envy.

"Hold this," You jump. Mingi touches your own hand with his fingers, dragging yours open to place a gray stone on your palm. "It will help that heart of yours."

Your hand closes around it, brows furrowed. "Is there something wrong?"

"You tell me. I could hear it from across the room. Thumping away."

“Thanks.”

He merely nods.

“y/n,” Jongho calls from the other side of the room. Pauses in conversation stop for a moment as he walks over, book held out to you. You take it from his hands, glancing over the words. You quickly recognize it as the Giving Tree, a novel read to you when you were a child. Jongho looked furious as he stood above you, frown only deepening. “It can’t just be a stump at the end.”

“Isn't it devastating?” San says from his spot. “I knew it'd bother you.”

Jongho turns to look at San, a scowl crossing his lips. “I wanted an entertaining tale. You gave me a book about a selfish human child.”

San shrugs, “Maybe it would finally let you let me borrow some of your things –”

“Absolutely not,” Jongho sighs. “You see what he does? He's just a nuisance.”

“Well it's one of my favorite stories,” you say, flipping through the pages. “Unconditional love with a price; hoping that it's returned but it never really is.”

“A silly story,” Mingi murmurs, but he takes the book from your hand, humming as he walks away, Jongho following close behind him. You could hear his low voice grumbling something about his book being taken away. Your eyes look over to Yeosang and San. This time, San stares at you. There isn't exactly any anger in it now, but an emotion you can't pin. It's unlike anything you've ever seen from him.

“They always bicker,” Wooyoung says, glancing back. “Don't worry too much about it solaris, a little fight won't hurt them.”

Well you aren't exactly worried about it. You don't bother responding to him, sinking yourself deeper into the couch.

“y/n.”

His smooth voice speaks through the air. Avoiding his gaze would only cause his irritation to grow, so you look at him. He holds a knife in his hand, peeling off the skin of an apple. He looks at you as he does so, taking a small bite.

“You're allowed to go.”

Everyone in the room looks at Hongjoong. The expressions range from shocked to confused. Hongjoong ignores them entirely, taking another bite. “After Yeosang and Wooyoung completed their assignment, the threat was subdued. Of course, you could have left weeks ago. All of us just needed to be sure it was safe. We put a spell around your home. No Seelie would be able to enter. No faerie can visit you aside from us. I thought you'd like to know that you can leave at any time. We would need you from time to time, but now, there's no immediate threat. And even if there were, you'd be able to take care of it better now.”

Yeosang leans up from his spot, “Hyung–”

Hongjoong holds up his hand. “Any further discussion can be done privately. y/n, leave when you'd like. None of us will stop you. And if they try,” he looks at Wooyoung as he says his next words. “They will be dealt with.”

“This isn't a joke?” You ask, slowly standing from your spot. The thought of finally being in your own home, your own place – you didn't realize how much you've missed it until this very moment. Hongjoong nods, and you would hug him if he weren't Hongjoong. Instead, you leave the room promptly. They all watch you go, presumably to your room to grab your things.

Wooyoung shakes his head, “Hongjoong, our mission wasn't successful. We did nothing to deter the Seelies. They'll come for her when they see we're not around.”

“You think I don't know that?” Hongjoong frowns, chewing slowly. “Seonghwa hasn't made any progress and Yunho cannot do experiments right now. We have no use for her other than entertainment. And wouldn't you rather our home be free of humans? Or has she hooked herself so deeply into your body you can't live without?”

“I want her,” Wooyoung whispers. “Why would you send her away?”

“She doesn't love you,” Hongjoong snorts. “It'll be a pity if you continue to delude yourself.”

“A bit harsh, hyung,” Yeosang says, moving out of Sans embrace. “If you spoke to us prior he might have been able to prepare and take the news well. Instead–”

“You know my thoughts. She was never going to stay forever. You all know this.” He passes his half eaten apple to Wooyoung, stepping around him. “I must inform Seonghwa. Discuss amongst yourselves, but it is done. She will be gone.” He waves, tucking his hand in his pockets.

Yeosang wastes no time in moving close to his partner. He can see his body begin to crumble, irises trembling at the news. His arms wrap about his mates, whispering quiet words to him.

“She's leaving, Yeo,” Wooyoung grips his shirt.

“She's leaving me again.”

—

You shove your clothing into your bag, quickly trying to pack up enough. Hoping that Hongjoong doesn't change hid mind about this. All you've known for a few months now is this mansion, this home that is and never will be yours. Being free, cord snapped, feels so … exhilarating. Never have you felt so much enjoyment to go back to that silly little down and the old bookstore. Resting on your hard mattress – ecstacy.

The bitter feeling burns your throat. Leaving them behind after knowing them for a while. Your heart hurts, to say the least. Though you kept your eyes on Hongjoong’s face as he told you the news, it wasn't only to digest it. It was to keep yourself steady, keep your thoughts solid. If your gaze ever wavered, looked over at one of the others – you would have thought twice. And if you let these thoughts stay for a while longer, you would have stayed. And that realization is enough for you to run out of here without looking back. No goodbyes. No greetings. Nothing that would make your feelings pause.

No one is in the hallways as you walk through, bag tucked beneath your arm. You step outside, rain splattering against your cheeks. As if the forest is mourning your departure. You hold your jacket above your head as you walk down the path. The feelings are too much for you to try and decipher right now.

You were in a loving relationship that ended and Soobin disappeared, leaving just a note behind. Whatever feeling that's dwelling within you right now is not what you think. You're just heartbroken, and lonely. And they're here.

It's nothing more than that.

The rain spills over the sides of the jacket, splashing against your skin. You flinch as it enters your eyes, strands of your hair sticking to your face. Just a few more steps, a few more and you'll be out of here. You won't have to see them again. You'd be free of faeries. You'd finally let go of these strange feelings.

"Won't you let me take you home?" A shimmering cloud rises from the darkness. Wooyoung conjures up in front of you, arms crossed against his chest. You stop on the path, a sigh escaping your lips.

"The bus is fine."

"Waiting for it in the downpour? What if it's late?"

You maneuver around him, frowning, "Then I'll walk."

"You live ten kilometers from our home." His footsteps follow close behind you. "And it would be safer to be with us."

"I need to get in a workout, anyway."

“You can wait a while.”

“Wooyoung,” you step over a pile of rocks. “Hongjoong told me I can go. Stop trying to stop me from leaving. This is my choice.”

“I'm not trying to stop you, solaris. I know this is your decision. But I can't help but wonder. Is it because of that estranged boyfriend of yours?" He asks, appearing in front of you again. "Is that why you're hesitant to stay over longer? Worried you're committing adultery?"

"He left me," you say through your teeth. "He has no hold over me. And I wouldn't be committing adultery since we were never married."

"Then why are you afraid of your emotions?" He tilts his head, pouting. "You care and yet you run. Everyday you spend with us you pretend to not care for us. Is that just something humans do? Run from the emotions they feel?"

"I don't have time for this Wooyoung."

Wooyoung steps closer, your foot stumbling over the saturated grass. He catches you with ease, arm hooking around your torso, pulling you close to his chest. His face is barely a breath away from you. Just as you're about to tell him you're fine, his grip tightens.

"How long will we have to wait?" His tone is soft. "For your shame of loving Unseelies to fade away?"

"I don't –"

He hums, shaking his head, "Ah ah. Don't you remember? I can't lie." He leans forward, lips hovering just over yours. "I hope we can stop playing pretend one day, my pretty solaris. I hope you can see how easily we shine together. Because I am very much drowning in my affection for you and desperately clawing for a reprieve that only your confession can grant. It is a bit pathetic," He steadies you, face pulling away from yours. The warmth of your body consumes you from his touch. If he notices it he does not mention it. He bows.

"You better catch your bus or else I'll truly have to keep you to myself," his lip lifts, gesturing in front of you. He dissipates into the night, your hurried steps running out the forest and onto the bus. There are very few others on it as it drives off, your eyes flicking out the window. For a moment you think you see the shimmer of gold between the trees.

-

“I told her you would come for her. And now that she’s gone, we’re delayed on our experimentation.”

“I said I couldn’t do anything right now without Yunho,” Seonghwa explains simply, flipping through his pages. “I’ve told you this countlessly but you chose not to listen. And you decided to let her go, not I.”

“The humans were noticing her disappearance along with her old mate,” Hongjoong pauses. “It would have brought us great exhaustion if they continued questioning what happened. I had to let her go for now.”

“Then there’s that, are we done with this conversation?” Seonghwa glances up from his research, looking across to Hongjoong. He sits on the seat that you used to occupy whenever you entered the laboratory, fingers dragging along the armrest. Somehow the action annoyed him, brow furrowing. “Hongjoong?”

“We haven’t seen you join us for dinners.”

“I’ve been occupied.”

“Occupied enough to not show your face?” He tilts his head. “I’m sure she desired your presence as well, but you’ve hidden yourself in here. What could be the reason why?”

He’s prying. Seonghwa sees it, knows he’s itching for him to tell the truth. Having a back and forth with him is the last thing he wants right now, head throbbing at the thought. So he sighs, shaking his head. "My mind isn’t itself. I want her so desperately, it's making me unreasonable, makes me want to be by her side," Seonghwa grips the desk, thinking. "This is a new sensation for me."

"This is what happens when you've rejected every advance I've given you your whole life," Hongjoong sings, hanging on the edge of the seat. "And now all you want to do is feel her around your cock because you barely fuck anyone."

The familiar warmth coats his cheeks, looking away from Hongjoong. "How vulgar. No wonder the others don't speak to you about these things."

"Is it not true?" His brow raises. "I saw as you watched her hold the knife in her hand. Her soft, human fingers wrapped around it so tightly. The way she looked for help, her lips," Hongjoong sighs, falling back into the cushions. "If I were her partner, I'd never move close to faerie territory. Why risk someone so delectable? Because of a silly dream of yours? Quite stupid."

"You're too horny to think straight. And you're only enchanted with her because she does not fall for our usual ploys. And now even more since she isn't as human as we once thought."

“I am only interested in power, Seonghwa. And she is the epitome of that. And…” he scoffs, "Me? Horny?" In the typical Hongjoong fashion, he picks at only one portion of the conversation. "You're the one clenching the table in the middle of a woe is me moment. You can barely stand straight," Hongjoong's eyes flick to his slacks. "Better take care of that. And besides, she will enjoy us."

"Saying it does not make it true. Our hands are tainted. Hongjoong. Once she finds out that we have ruined her life with her partner, she will despise us. We are tainted. Do you not see it? All of your sweet nothings, soft words to her will not work. None of it will work. There not passes a day where she does not mention him."

"But she desires us, no?"

"She does," he admits. "But she yearns for him much more. I fear there will never come a day where she does not. It is like… it feels like she is one of us. Once we choose a mate, we will never move on from it."

"She's a human."

"As far as we know, yes. But Hongjoong–"

"That means there's a chance that we will change her mind," Hongjoong murmurs. "We can change her."

"Is it wise? Shouldn't we just… leave her?"

It's as if Hongjoong does not hear at all what Seonghwa is saying, brows scrunched in thought. He looks at his mate, swallowing. "We can change it Seonghwa. She will never move on from him unless he comes back and tells her he doesn’t want her,” Hongjoong murmurs, eyes flicking across the patterns in the rug. “And he was killed before we could force him to do it.”

“There’s no going back,” Seonghwa concures.

“I agree, there’s not. But we can do something so her mourning period ends quicker.”

“And that is?”

A strange look crosses his face. "I need Mingi."

His eyes widen slightly, “Hongjoong, we shouldn’t.” Just as Seonghwa raises his hand and begins to whisper, Hongjoong dissipates in an instant, leaving the eldest alone. Seonghwa lets go of the table, pacing back and forth. He can handle this. You're just a human, nothing more. He can handle this inane desire on his own. He can handle what Mingi is going to do. Even if his own thoughts seemingly cry out to run to you, to take you as his own. He can push past that. He grabs his research, flipping through.

Seonghwa stared at the book in his hands, his eyes wide with disbelief. He had read it over and over again, but he couldn't believe what he was seeing. There, in black and white, was the answer to the question that had been haunting him for months.

He had always known that you were different from other humans since the first moment he caught your eye. You had never been truly afraid of him, even when he had first revealed his true nature to you. You had never been seduced by his beauty or his power. You had always seen him for who he was, a faerie, and you had accepted him anyway.

But now he knew why you were different. You were immune because you were not a faerie nor human at all. He had never met another being like you before. He didn't know if there were others like you out there. He didn't know if you were the only one. He didn't even know that these creatures existed. He assumed it was just folklore.

He ripped out the page, pinning it to his board. The word stands out, bold and underlined.

Holy CRAP

So Unlike You (Yunho x Fem!Reader)

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x fem!reader/ Side pairing: OT8 x fem!Reader

Word Count: 6k

Genre: smut sprinkled with fluffiness/ AU: sugar baby, idolverse

Summary: After hearing about you and Wooyoung, your sweet puppy makes a very surprising request, and you're eager to oblige him.

Warnings: cnc, consensual non consensual, rape play, edging, bondage, light bondage, spanking, pussy slapping, rough oral sex, oral sex, cream pie, unprotected sex (wrap it, but it's also discussed beforehand that they don't use one), pet names, mean names, roleplay, ripping clothes off, groping, polyamorous relationship, established relationship, poly!ateez, poly!reader, sugar baby au, idolverse au, dirty talk, super dirty, like damn. Sex toys, nipple play, nipple clamps

MINORS DNI!

Previously on Idol Companion

*****

Yunho was the sweetest, most gentle man you know. This was saying something considering your other boyfriends were equally sweet. He never hesitated to help or comfort you. You remembered him waiting on you hand and foot when you’d gotten sick. He’d driven you and Mihee to her ex-boyfriends’ house in case they showed up. Yunho never showed you anything other than respect, kindness and compassion. Yunho was your mood maker, your gentle giant, the other half of your “Twin Towers”. He rarely showed his “bad” side in front of you; you almost denied he even had one since he rarely rose to anger.  

So, his request certainly caught you off guard. 

You’d both come back home from a simple date night of arcade games, pizza, and a stroll down by the river. Yunho’s calming, laid back energy always felt refreshing after particularly rough days. You spent an afternoon wrangling toddlers, talking to parents, helping your friend Mihee settle into her dorm, and talking to your mom about your cousin's birthday party. Ending your day with your sweetest boyfriend relieved you of all the stress on your shoulders. Walking into the apartment together, you remained as quiet as possible to not disturb a sleeping Yeosang, so you both drank a glass of wine in the kitchen. 

“You know that I love you, right?” Yunho asked nervously, sitting across from you at the island counter. 

This phrase became popular amongst your boyfriends, since they typically followed it up with something suspicious. Still, how bad could it possibly be? It was Yunho.

“I’m aware,” you gave a sweet smile, “But you can always remind me, if you want.”

He gave a nervous laugh, running his fingertip around the rim of the wine glass. You could see him thinking it over in his mind, turning it around and around for the right words. Several scenarios crossed your mind as you watched him think. He’s ill. He’s in debt. His family is in trouble and he needs your help. There are so few things that could be wrong, but you hoped it wasn’t so bad. 

“Yuyu-ah,” you reached out for him, concerned now, “What’s the matter? You can tell me. Are you sick? Is your family okay? You don’t need to hesitate with me, you know that.”

“It’s nothing like that,” he shook his head, taking your hand gently. “Really,” he insisted, “It’s…Wooyoung told me you and him tried something new in bed a while back and…”

A relieved smile came across your face, “And you wanted to try that too? Yunho, you don’t have to be scared to approach me about trying new things. I trust you with my body every time, don’t I? I didn’t think you’d like free use play, but if you’re curious about it, we can give it a go.”

“That sounds nice, but that’s not what I wanted to ask you about.”

“Then what?”

“I wanted to see if you…if you…”

“If I…?” 

“If you’d ever like to try consensual non-consensual play with me.” He blurted out the words before drowning them back with wine. 

The request stunned you a moment. You sunk deep into your thoughts to try comprehending the suggestion. Not that you’re against rape play. You’ve heard of other people doing it, and you’d done it once with another client in a safe, trusting environment. But, you expected such suggestions from that person, not from Yunho. You pictured Yunho, taller and bigger and stronger, pinning you to his bed and harshly pounding into you while you whined and pleaded with him to stop. He’d have no trouble overpowering you if you truly fought back. Unlike other clients before him, you knew Yunho would only do it if you gave a firm, certain ‘yes’ and after a long discussion over ground rules and safety colors/words. Seeing his large hands, you remembered each time they went around your throat or sharply slapped your ass. Yunho could be rough and dominant if he truly wanted. 

“You want to do that?” you asked, dumbfounded still. 

“Um, well…” he smoothed a hand through his black hair, scratching the back of his head, “I’ve always wanted to try it with someone, but I never dated anyone long enough to feel comfortable asking. Since we’ve done kinky things together, I thought, maybe if you wanted to and felt certain, we could try that?” His puppy eyes met yours, and you melted. “I swear I won’t be upset if you say ‘no’. Please, don’t feel you have to agree with it because you’re my Companion or anything. We definitely do not have to do it, if you’re uncomfortable with that. I only thought I’d ask. It’s okay. It’s totally okay if you don’t want to do it.”

“Yunho,” you ran your thumb the back of his hand comfortingly, “If there’s anyone I’d feel comfortable doing that with, it’s you.”

A light pink brightened his cheeks, and he giggled, “Really?”

“Yes,” you nodded, “I’ll admit I’m surprised it’s you who asked me. I expected Hongjoong or Jongho to ask, if any of you ever did.” 

“I know,” he blushed, “But I thought you might say ‘no’ because it’s not something we’d normally do in bed. It’d be different from the usual dominant stuff we do, and a bit rougher.”

“You want to wreck me, Yuyu?” you teased, laughing softly when he turned away again. “I don’t mind. I trust you to take care of me, and I think it's a new thing for us to explore.” 

“Really? It's honestly okay if you don't want to,” he repeated. 

“Yunho, yes,” you assured him, walking around the counter and into his arms. “I'd like to try it too. You want to do that now or another time?”

“No, not now,” he shook his head, “When Yeosang goes to see his parents. That way he doesn't over hear it and think that I'm actually hurting you. Besides,” he pulled you closer and smirked, “That way you can be as loud as you like.”

A laugh was muffled by his kiss. After getting his confirmation, you and Yunho discussed exactly what he wanted to do. He asked if you both could do “the entire act” which included you refusing sex and him not taking a “no” scenario. Nothing too elaborate, yet enough to set a dynamic and tone. You both decided on a color system, and your usual safe word “Buttercup”. Being a toy user, you told him you didn't mind the toys or if he decided to restrain you somehow, which led to a discussion about ropes or handcuffs that you left up to him. You agreed to a day and time that would be best for both of you, then went to bed together. 

****

“Bye, Yeosangie!” 

You kissed Yeosang for the hundredth time that morning, trying to capture as much of it as you could. He'd be gone for three days to see his parents, so you cashed in as many kisses as possible. Yunho’s request did excite you, so perhaps you appeared a bit eager to get him out the door at the same time. 

“I'm going to miss you,” you pouted in his arms. 

“I'll only be gone three days, babe,” he laughed, hugging you tightly still. “You have seven other boyfriends to keep you company until I come back.”

“But none of them will watch reality shows with me,” you said, toying with the strings of his hoodie. “Who's going to talk shit about bitchy housewives with me?”

You recently managed to get a VPN to watch reality tv shows from other countries. Yeosang quickly became your reality junk buddy after a Real Housewives episode.

“We can stream them online, and watch them together that way,” he replied. “We do live in the age of technology after all.”

“It's not the same,” you whined, hugging him. 

“YN, he's not going off to war,” said Yunho from behind you. “He's coming back.”

“What if a war happens and he has to go before then?” You joked, mocking a sad tone and burying your face in Yeosang's neck. “I'll never see him again.”

The three of you laughed before Yeosang gave you one more kiss, then released you. You'd offered to drive him to the station, but he insisted that you stay home. A part of you wondered if Yunho hinted at the afternoon plans. The both of you let him leave, waving goodbye until he closed the door behind him. You tiptoed to kiss Yunho’s cheek, then went to clean up the breakfast dishes. 

Your eyes paid attention to the time while you washed dishes. Yunho said he'd like to do it around noon, since that gave you both plenty of time before, during and after, so you suspected he was preparing his room right now. The anticipation left you thinking of all the possible things Yunho could do to you. You never experienced a mean Yunho before, but the members said it can be scary. You told him he didn't have to hold back with you; it's his fantasy and you'd be fine with whatever he decided. Since it's his first time doing this, he said he'd be gentle but once that arousal boils up, that might disappear. Finishing up the counter space, you looked at the clock to see it was half past noon. You worried Yunho might have been too nervous and backed out. Even though it was his idea, you told him if he ever changed his mind you wouldn't be upset and he said vice versa for you. You’d moved to wait in the living room when he appeared in the kitchen doorway. 

“Hey you.”

Yunho stood there in a long black shirt and shorts. His face bare and hair free of product, Yunho stripped down to his real self. You often said how you preferred them without all the makeup and hairspray. The stylists always made their skin a lighter shade, and they covered up Yeosang's pretty red wine birthmark. Seeing Yunho as himself, wearing simple clothes, flustered you more than his stage outfits. He leaned against the counter, eyes already peeling off your clothes. Heat rose up from under your shirt at the sight. It reminded you of the villains in dramas, who ooze sex appeal and wickedness at the same time. The kind that are hard to root against because they're so damn good looking.

“Hey,” you kept your tone light and casual, “I just finished cleaning up. I was going to watch this new movie I found, if you want to join me.”

“Nah,” he shook his head, eyes focused on your chest, “I have something else I want to do instead.”

“Game?” You suggested innocently. 

“No,” he drawled, shaking his head. He walked around the counter towards you, eyes glinting with lust. His hands rested on your waist, while he leaned into you, “I'd like to do you.”

“Yunho,” you sighed, sliding from his warm embrace, “Not now. I'm tired, and not really in the mood.”

“But…” Yunho scoffed incredulously, “That's your job though.”

You hesitated. You never thought such words would come out of his mouth. “Yunho…”

“You're a Companion,” he continued, “Fucking me is your whole job. Sure, okay, we go on dates and all that, but at the end of the day if I want some ass, you're supposed to give it to me.”

His words. The irritated look in his eyes. Intimidating and standing taller, you couldn't help being flustered by the change in him. He should do more acting. 

“I don't have to if I don't want to,” you argued back, yanking your wrist from him. 

“Yes, you do,” he roughly grabbed it back, “It's not like you don't like it. You give it up to Hongjoong all the time. You let us gangbang you in front of cameras, and at home. I'm not going to ask you to do anything you haven't done a hundred times before.”

You made an attempt to escape his grasp, but he really did hold onto you. Quickly, he pulled you to him as you struggled and planted a hard kiss on your lips. He told you he wanted you to truly fight him back; he assured you he wouldn't hurt you too badly. You lightly slapped his shoulders, wriggling in his hold as the kiss deepened and he forced his tongue into your mouth. A soft groan escaped him as he trapped you between himself and the counter. You swatted at him, trying to scoot free as he kissed and nibbled down your neck. The bulge grazed against you kindled a fire inside you, but you forced it back down. 

“Yunho-ah, stop it,” you scoffed, pushing him away briefly. When you slapped him lightly, he glared. It aroused you further. 

“No,” he grunted, hands wrapping around you once more. You squeaked at the hands squeezing your ass, feeling it through the thin shorts you wore. “I'm horny, and your job is to fix that. Let me see these.”

“No!”

You tried blocking his hands from sliding under your top to lift your shirt, but it didn't work. He lifted the tight top above your breasts, which he immediately kneaded in his hands. Yunho’s jaw dropped at the sight of them in his palms, your nipples hardening against his palms. You’d opted out of a bra today, and you’re glad you did. The sudden intrusion made you gasp. Using one leg to spread yours, Yunho groaned as he cupped both breasts. 

“Stop,” you said, trying to cover them from view but purposefully failing. “I'm going to call Hongjoong,” you threatened. 

“For? For him to come watch?” He smirked, flicking at one of your nipples. “He loves watching, and I normally don't mind, but I want to keep it just you and me today.” You grabbed his wrists when he moved down to your shorts, shaking your head and breathing heavily. “Let me see you,” he ordered, “It's mine, after all. I pay for it.”

“I don't want to,” you shot back, though you did not appear as confident as you sounded. “Leave me alone.”

“No.” 

You gasped when his hand grabbed your sex. Long fingers sliding fully over your shorts, he massaged it in circles that had you frozen in place. 

“Gosh, it's so warm,” he moaned, his other hand going back to fondling your breast. “And it gets wet so easily. I only have to rub it a few times and it's soaked. We really hit gold when we got you.” 

“Let go,” you demanded, but didn't move. 

Yunho then turned you around, pressing you into the counter once more, and continued feeling you up. His hardon brushing your ass now, he let out a low moan when you instinctively pushed back. Soft panting filled your ear as he lightly touched you. You pushed against his hands, trying to tear yourself from him, but he kept a firm grip on you. 

“Yunho, I mean it. Let me go.”

“Ugh, shut up already. It's not like I haven't done this before.”

“I will tell management. I'm not kidding.”

He yanked your head back, forcing you to look at him over your shoulder, and scowled. “Go ahead. I'll tell them you asked for it and they'll believe me. Nobody believes sluts like you,” he grabbed your chest again and pinched your nipples, “I’ll even tell them you didn’t wear a bra. ‘Well, hyungmin, YN wasn’t wearing a bra, and I was only giving her what she wanted’,” he said in a mocking tone, his voice tickling your nerves, “‘Noonanim, YN wanted it a little rough’. Honestly, YN, who do you think they’ll listen to?” 

This empty threat made you hold back a giggle. You never expected him to be so in character. 

“Buttercup,” you snorted, unable to hold it in.

“What's wrong?” His concern dropped once he heard you giggling. “What? Is it too cheesy?”

“No, it's you being so in character.”

“I did work on a drama once. I guess you can say I'm an actor,” he kissed beneath your ear, “Do you want me to dial back the realness?”

“A bit.” 

“Alright. Time in?”

“Time in.”

Returning to his character, Yunho took your arm and started dragging you to his room. Your heart started racing, a breath catching in your throat at the sudden roughness in him. He brought you into his room, slamming the door behind him and threw you onto his bed. 

“Yunho!” You exclaimed before he forced himself on top of you. “Yunho, stop it!”

“No,” he grunted, taking hold of both your wrists. “You're my girlfriend. You're supposed to fuck me whenever I want, and right now, I want it.” 

“Yunho, please!” You added a whimper at the end as you let him take your wrists. 

He grabbed a belt from beside you and wrapped it around your wrists. You still wriggled beneath him as if trying to escape, but you made no real escape attempt. The adrenaline sent blood rushing to your core. Every single nerve in your body tingled each time his body brushed against yours. Holding down your arms, Yunho kissed you deeply again and grinded into you. His hardon pressed lightly against your thigh each time, and he followed it with a soft groan. You let out more whining, even turning your head before he grabbed your chin to roughly kiss you. One hand putting your hands onto a hook on the headboard, the other slid up your body to your breast for a soft squeeze. Unable to free your arms, you could do nothing but move around as Yunho kissed and caressed your body. Large, warm hands slid up to your breasts, cupping and squeezing them through your shirt. 

“Give me clothes you don't care about. I want to rip them off you.”

You'd left an old tank top, shorts, and underwear in his bedroom last night. When you got them this morning, you saw he'd made small slits in each piece to rip them easier. He'd cut into the tank top by the neckline, which he took a hold of now. He stayed on top of you, grabbing your tits while he continued grinding into you. You never realized how much stronger Yunho is compared to the other members. Mingi, Jongho, San and Yeosang worked out often, so you expected it, but Yunho had size on his side. He kept you firmly pinned even with the belt and hook aiding him, and he made sure your hips did not move too much. 

“I don't know why you bother with clothes,” he grumbled, “Whores don't need clothes.”

You yelped when the sound of ripping fabric followed, exposing your bare chest to him. Hungrily, Yunho took one nipple in his mouth to suck while his other hand pinched the opposite side. He continued grinding into you, groaning softly. You loved how you could feel his dick through his pants, hard and pulsing in his boxers and into your center. 

“Yunho, please stop,” you cried, giving a sniff. “Please, don't do this.”

“Shut up,” he growled, kissing further down your body. 

“Please-”

“-I said ‘shut up’, slut,” he repeated firmly, slapping your cheek lightly. “You don't speak again unless I speak to you first, got it?”

“Yes,” you sniffled, pouting and giving him doe eyes. 

“Sit up.”

He helped you into a sitting position where your mouth came to level with his crotch. With a swift tug of his waistband, his semi-hardon stood inches from your face. Yunho removed his shirt, and you took in his lean form. Not as defined as the others, you still wanted to kiss and feel every inch of him. Yet, despite your clit pulsing from the sight, you pretended to push back and away from him. Shaking your head, you purse your lips as Yunho brought your head back into position. When you didn’t immediately open your mouth, Yunho pinched your nose and slapped his tip against your lips. The light tapping combined with the instinct to breathe caused you to gasp. A gasp that Yunho instantly snuffed out with his dick. Grasping your hair, he kept you in place while he smoothly went in and out of your mouth. You continued whimpering and trying to get away, but not too hard. Yunho’s pulsating cock slid over your tongue, and tempted you into touching yourself. You heard his haggard breathing getting heavier, moans starting to escape him as he stared down at you. Soon, Yunho was thrusting himself into your throat. Your humming vibrated around his tip, and he chuckled. 

“That’s right,” he said through gritted teeth, “Hum around my cock. Go ahead. I know how much you like it.”

You gave a fake sob as he started gagging you. Each deep thrust ended with you gulping and gasping when he pulled off you. Thin streams connected your lips to his tip, and Yunho used this connection to smear himself on your chin and cheeks. Both hands on your head, Yunho forced you to the hilt and stayed there at least a few seconds at a time. 

“Yunho, stop,” you coughed, “It…It hurts.”

“It doesn’t seem to hurt when Seonghwa does it,” he grunted, “So take it.” 

You hadn’t said ‘buttercup’ again, so Yunho did not stop. Purposefully, you didn’t hollow in your cheeks to suck him. When he saw you simply keeping your mouth open he scoffed. 

“No, no, no, suck it,” he ordered, pushing himself into your throat. When you didn’t suck, he poked his tip to your cheek and slapped it. “Suck it right, slut,” he slapped you again, the sting mixing with the ache in your throat. “Don’t act like you’ve never sucked dick before. Hollow out those cheeks and-Fuck, yes, like that.”

Whimpering, you started sucking him properly. This made him give your throat a break and focus on rubbing himself on your tongue and lips. You wriggled around on the bed as your own arousal started throbbing between your thighs. A bundle of his sheets against your sex tempted you into grinding against his mattress, eager for a form of relief. Yet, you knew you’re meant to not want this, so you kept yourself firmly planted on the bed. Yunho chuckled through a groan. 

“Look at you,” he mocked, smacking your cheek again as he pushed against your inner cheek. “Filthy, dumb slut getting turned on by me using her mouth.” When you let out a muffled wail, he plunged deep into your throat again, “Don’t act like you don’t like it. It’s what you’re paid to do. I’m only taking what I pay good money for.” 

He kept you planted there as he started fucking your mouth roughly. A slight pain burned in your throat after a while, making your eyes swim with tears that came down your cheeks. The cheap mascara and eyeliner you’d applied colored the tears with black, a look Yunho asked for specifically. Your clit throbbed while your walls clenched for something to grab onto; your nipples tingled and hardened from imaging his mouth and hands on them. Yunho, seeing your nipples erect, reached down for one as he continued abusing your mouth. Index and thumb fingers rolled it in between them, the twinge of pain adding to the burning pleasure. Sharp slaps to them every so often made you whine around the cock ravaging your mouth. 

Without a word, he pulled you off him and pushed you back onto the pillows. “I know exactly what to do with these,” he huffed, reaching into a box beside the bed. 

You laid there, coughing and clearing your aching throat, as he shifted through a selection of toys, unable to keep yourself from wriggling around underneath him. When he withdrew a chain of nipple clamps, you widened your eyes and shook your head. While the sight of them usually excited you, you pretended to fear it as you struggled to get away from Yunho. This only made him hook your bound wrists back to his headboard. Straddling your thighs, Yunho bent down and greedily sucked one of your nipples. He cupped and squeezed while teasing the sensitive peaks with his tongue. 

“Yunho-ah,” you cried, sniffling and shaking your head, “Please, stop it.”

“Shut up,” he snapped, spanking one of your tits for emphasis. 

“Yunho, please don’t put those. They hurt a lot-”

“Do I look like someone who gives a fuck? Shut. Up. And. Take. It.”

His meanness only turned you on more. You watched him prepare you for the clamps and purposefully moved around to make your breasts jiggle. Yunho looked over at you for a moment. You saw him admiring your hands tied to the headboard, seeing the drool and tears left on your face. You pouted, giving him a pleading look that made his jaw drop. He wanted you to be pathetically helpless against his big, strong body. He wanted you pleading for mercy and saying ‘no’ until the very end. He bent down over you again, pecking your lips softly and nuzzling your nose gently. Neither of you said anything, but you still sniffled and whimpered as he went back to sucking and biting your nipples. You often tried keeping whichever breast he chose from his mouth before he grabbed them harshly and kept you in place. The clamps brought a never ending wave of pleasure that you forced yourself to restrain.

“Just as pretty as I thought,” he gave a self-satisfied smile as the chain pulled your nipples. He slapped the sides to see them bounce against his hands, “They’re prettier covered in loads of cum.”

“Yunho-”

He roughly grabbed your chin and squeezed your cheeks to keep you quiet, “You just don’t know how to shut up, do you? How many times do I have to say it?”

“Yunho,” you sobbed.

“Ugh, you’re so annoying,” he scoffed. Going back to the box, he took out a dildo-gag. Only a few inches, it wouldn’t go to your throat but it’d certainly keep you quiet. “Open up.”

You shook your head, rolling your lips closed.

“I said ‘open up’, slut.”

He pinched your nose again, and you tried holding your breath as long as possible until you gave in. The second your mouth opened, the gag went inside. He strapped it securely behind your head, enough to keep it from coming loose but not so tight it truly hurt you.

“There,” he said, “Maybe now you’ll finally shut up. You’re prettier when you’re not talking.”

The toy in your mouth caused saliva to build up around it, which you tried swallowing down to keep it from coming out. That didn’t prepare you for what he did next: Yunho went further down your body to your shorts. He roughly and hurriedly tugged them off you, and groaned at the sight of your wet panties. Your pussy ached when he heatedly tore them enough to reveal your sex and ass, the cheap fabric hanging by the elastic bands. When you tried closing your legs, he forced them back apart and sat between your thighs to keep you spread out. Your heart started racing in anticipation, sensing his hard cock close to your dripping sex, and expected him to go inside right away. But no. Yunho planned to drag this out. 

Lifting your legs up by the ankles, he pressed your knees to your chest and swatted your bare pussy. The stinging pain added to the clamps on your nipples, and you thought you might cum if he continued spanking you. Yunho’s quick, hard slaps teased your exposed clit, the brief touch sliding across your pussy each time his hand came down. Seeing you trembling on the bed, Yunho stopped spanking and rubbed your sore lips gently. 

“I know you’re not about to cum,” he said, a threat in his voice. “I know you’re not about to cum before me. I didn’t say anything about you getting to cum first.” He spit right on it, swirling it around slowly, “No, no, no. We’ve told you before that a proper slut would let us cum first. This is for my pleasure, not yours,” he slapped your pussy particularly hard to which you gave a muffled cry, “I don’t pay you to have orgasms. I pay you to give me orgasms.”

You attempted to plead, but your gag kept you quiet.

“What’s that?” he cocked his head to hear you, “You’re going to be a good toy and let me fuck you however I like? Hm, that’s good to know.” He laughed when you reverently shook your head, “Oh, you know you love it. Your pussy certainly loves it.”

He grabbed his dick and started tapping it against your pussy. The teasing motion stirred the pot boiling inside you. You could feel your orgasm slowly rolling to the front, about to explode right onto his wet tip until he’d stop. When you’d calm down, he’d go right back to teasing his length against your pussy. It became absolute torture. If you ever stopped being wet enough, he’d spit right where you both met to keep you slick enough for him. You took the moment to watch his body tense up at the flickers of pleasure grinding into you gave him. One hand gripping your thigh, the other made sure his dick moved exactly how he knew it’d weaken you. You saw the veins in his hands from the pressure, and wanted them inside you. You wanted them knuckle-deep, pushing in and out and wiggling deep within. His fingers always looked better around your throat or stuffed in your holes. But, he didn’t use his fingers. Not once. 

When he finally did enter you, he gasped in surprise. “Oh no,” he said, smoothly gliding in and out of you, “Looks like I forgot a condom.”

Another thing you’d both discussed and cleared on before starting.

“No, don’t do that,” you tried saying through the gag. “Don’t cum in me.”

“Huh? What?” he cupped his ear, starting to rub your clit with his thumb so you mewled loudly. “You want me to cum in you?”

“No! Don't!”

“I bet you do,” he started pumping in and out of you faster, “I bet you love when Hongjoong fills you with cum every night. I’m surprised you’re not pregnant already with all the times he’s creamed your little pie.” He took hold of your thighs and kept them spread further apart. “But, don’t worry. I’ll cum in you,” he sneered, “Maybe I’ll leave you here and call the other members so they can fill up your pussy too. You’ll be so full of it, we’d have to take you to the clinic the next day,” he laughed.

The idea of him taking his own fantasy a step further had your thighs quaking in his grasp. Yunho kept the same steady pace throughout, only stopping when he sensed your orgasm drawing near again. A cocktail of pain and pleasure once again filled your insides, and you realized how much you enjoyed it. You liked mean Yunho. He exhibited a sadistic desire to bring you close to an orgasm, only to deny it to you at the last second. Your disappointed and frustrated whimpers delighted him, usually resulting in him taunting you as he pounded his hips into yours a few times. He meant it when he said he’d be merciless. He proved it when he flipped you onto your front, lifted your head up by your hair, and started pounding your pussy relentlessly. Any plea or cry you gave went unheard underneath the sounds of his skin slapping yours. When the bed banged against the wall, you thought that usual shyness might come out, but it only encouraged him further. 

“Please, please, please,” you cried through your gag, tears watering your eyes again. “Please stop. It hurts so much.”

“Shut up,” he growled, tugging your hair and thrusting faster. “Shut up and take my cock.”

“Yunho-”

“I said ‘shut up’, bitch.” He pushed your face into the pillow, the dildo going further into your mouth and silencing you right away. “Fuck toys don’t talk.”

You sobbed into the pillow, your nose poking out enough for you to breathe. Your eyes rolled back right as his tip started pushing your g-spot. Each thrust sent you closer to the edge once more. You thought you’d go insane from the feeling alone. You felt nothing but the desperation growing inside you. The need to meet his hips with yours, the need to be clenching and squeezing him through an orgasm became far too deep. You lost all sense. The only thing you focused on was pretending to squirm out of Yunho’s strong grip. 

What pushed you the closest was when Yunho’s moans became breathy and erratic. By his tightened grasp, his feverish thrusts and incoherent streams of curses, you knew he’d finish soon. You clenched him tightly, which made him quicken his pace. Soon, a distinct hot sensation spilled inside you and you almost came with him. Yunho continued going until he pumped every last drop inside you. Quivering, your body tensed up in effort to stay on the edge. 

“Tak-Take it,” he groaned, huffing as he squeezed out a few more drops, “It’s the least you can do after…after rejecting me…”

The second he withdrew from you, you weakly scrambled away from him.

“And where do you think you’re going, huh?” 

He roughly pulled you back into his grasp. Restricting your arms with one of his, he parted your legs with his knee and started rubbing your sex again. The tips of his fingers rapidly gliding over your clit had you trembling and clutching Yunho’s arms. Your body caved into itself, a burning tightness building the longer he kept you in his grasp. You tried closing your thighs together and moving from his hand, but he only forced them further apart and went faster.

“That’s it,” he said in your ear, still toying with your clit despite the sensitivity settling in, “Cum all over yourself like the pathetic slut you are. Go ahead. Do it.” 

You shook your head as if keeping yourself from giving into his demands. 

“You know you want to,” he said, stopping to bring your knee further up and then continuing, “You wanted to a little bit ago. Am I not good enough for you to cum for? Huh?” 

You put your hands on his wrist, trying to move his hand away but not doing a good job of it. This time, he didn’t do anything else. He only rubbed; his fingers caused his warm cum to mix with your juices, getting the mess everywhere, but you didn’t care. You came in seconds. The blinding climax made every muscle in your body seize up, and you screamed around the dildo in your mouth. You could do nothing but lay there as Yunho teased an orgasm out of you. Being completely at his mercy, tied up and clamped, you laid there and came hard until the very end. 

When you finally finished, you desperately chased whatever bit of air you could get through your nose. It wasn’t until Yunho undid the gag that you sucked in more air. Keeping you in his arms, Yunho carefully unbuckled his belt from your wrists and tenderly rubbed them for you. He peppered the side of your face with soft, brief kisses as he gingerly removed the clamps to rub your sore nipples. The two of you laid there in the afterglow of this new experience, content to listen to each other’s breathing gradually steady over time. You stayed still when he started wiping the mess from you with a wet cloth, drying it for you right after. A shower or bath would be for later. Neither of you felt up to it at the moment. 

“Did you like it?” he asked in the silence, not having moved an inch away from you. “Was I too rough? Not rough enough? I didn’t want to overdo it with you.”

You shook your head, “I really liked it, actually.” 

“You liked it, huh?” he teased, giving you a gentle squeeze. “Even when I hit you?”

“Yes,” your cheeks grew warm from the confession. “I’ve never seen you that way before.” You turned over to face him, remaining in his arms still, “It really turned me on.” Talking made you realize your throat did itch slightly. You’d need some tea to soothe it at least. 

“Oh?” he lifted your leg to his waist and put his arm around you, “Maybe I should be mean in bed more often.”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to it.” You then asked, “Was I…I don’t know how to say it…Fighting back enough? I didn’t want to make you think I really wasn’t into it, but I know you wanted me to kind of fight back.”

“You were perfect, babe. It was exactly like I imagined,” he insisted, kissing you softly. “Thank you,” he said, moving hair from your face, “For doing this with me. I thought it might scare you or you would see me differently when I asked you.”

“Never,” you assured him, clearing your throat. “I’ll admit I was surprised by it at first, but it was something new for us to explore.” You chuckled again, which bothered your throat, “But I did think you getting so into it was funny at first.”

“I wanted to do it right,” he laughed. “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“You wouldn’t have,” you coughed. “You wouldn’t have disappointed me. We would’ve just had normal sex or no sex or whatever we both felt like doing.” 

“Oh, baby,” Yunho immediately perked up, “Your throat. It must hurt. Is it really bad? I shouldn’t have done it so much.” 

“It itches a bit.” 

“I’ll make you some tea then,” he peeled himself away from you and sat up. Ruffling his hair, he reached for his boxers on the floor and said, “And an ice pack too?” 

“Yes, please.” 

You knew once you really started moving around, you’d know which parts of your body will need to be iced. Yunho gently pecked your lips, then left the bedroom. Sinking further into his bed, you felt yourself drifting to sleep. The events you replayed in your head gave you chills. Nobody looking at Yunho would think he enjoyed such a taboo act; though, you’re not bothered by it at all. A part of you wondered if he'd do it again, since Yeosang won’t be home any time soon. 

You’d definitely have no objections. 

****

A/N: hey hey friends! Sorry this one took so long. Like with all my current wips, I've been having trouble sticking to one and finishing it. I hope this one makes up for it though! I have a Seonghwa one coming up soon too! always like and reblog, it keeps us going <3

PAIRING! – choi soobin x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS! - What ever happened to them? Suddenly every single photo, thought, and feeling was erased from their lives as if poof, it never existed and once it was gone it left us all wondering, and searching for something more…

or in which fans of the popular singer Y/N begin to wonder what ever happened to the boy she wrote all those loves songs about….

starting: july 11th, 2023 / ending: august 11th, 2023

that’s the thing official playlist -> HERE !!

PSA: now that this is over, i ask that you do not spam like it as you read the full story, if you do so I will have to block you.

warning(s): profanity, dark humor (die, kms, etc. jokes) angst, not unrequited love but relationships where people want different things, fanwars, more to be added (?)

genre: social media au, e2l, non!idol but famous singers + model/youtuber au, angst, fluff, more to be added!

cast: y/n will use the fc of beabadoobee, all of txt, p1h keeho + possible other p1h members, itzy’s yeji , and tbz sunwoo !!

taglist: @jmin-s @stealanity @iijwon @invuwrld @igotkpoops @telesvng @whippedforbeomgyu @l0ve-joy @envirae @neozon3nha @meiiiwa @kangtaehyunfan029 @chaerybae @ch2won @cinnikoi @wccycc @run2seob @stariszn @haew0nz @neoculturewhat @hyuk4ngel @ddeonubaby @oulspvs @sullystraw @liliyaaaaas-library @rainbowszi @fanfangying1304 @tocupid

taglist is CLOSED!

VENUS DELUXE TRACKLIST:

– album teaser track!

000: coming to you live / twerkin on the runway (intros)

001: LOWKEY

002: TEASERS & TOURS

003: SUGARPLUM ELEGY

004: YOU DATED MY GF? (read: soobin’s backstory)

005: SILLY LITTLE ME

006: KRILL YOURSELF

007: HIM & HIS STUPID FUCKING RAT (sorry odi)

008: THE CONCERT

009: SOOBY/N Q & A!

010: I <3 MY GIRLFRIEND! — end!

end of album – restart to track 001?

© all rights reserved to enluv, do not steal, repost or translate.

All It Takes | Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist.

Summary: After months of quietly pinning after Jung Hoseok, your friends decide to give you a little push. Sometimes a New Years Eve party and a round of Seven Minutes in Heaven is all it takes.

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x f!reader 

Genre: Fluff, angst, sexual content, minors keep out! 

Warnings: Non idol au; tattooed!hobi, tattoo artist hobi;  Dom!Hobi. Lots of smut.

One.

Two. 

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

Eight.

Nine.

Ten.

Eleven.

Twelve.

Thirteen.

Fourteen.

Fifteen.

Sixteen.

Seventeen.

Eighteen.

Nineteen.

Twenty - Finale.

💟 

never knew I needed chan to be pegged, but now I need him to be cuddled and kissed, until he's made to feel as cherished as he DESERVES

「𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕'𝚜 𝚔𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚗」 · course iv

❝𝙷𝚎’𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚢 𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚠.❞

WC: 10k (42 min. avg. reading time)

⛔ — Not suitable for readers who might get triggered by rough play and/or themes of sexual deviance. The author chooses not to issue tags for every act to preserve tension and some element of surprise. By clicking "Keep Reading", you accept to proceed at your own risk.

⚠ — Objectifying language, fantasies related to sharing and providing extreme pleasure, use of a fictional aphrodisiac, threesome, spitting, cumplay (lots of it), a lot of breeding talk (see masterlist for more).

★ There is no taglist. Please turn on notifications if you wish to be updated.

※ This work of fiction is intended for 18+ audiences only.

Chris liked his satin sheets. They absorbed the synthetic breeze of his AC and kept him comfortably cool during scorching summers. He was used to spending his nights alone between them—sometimes basking in the violent delights of his subconscious, sometimes exploring his body afresh fully awake.

But he couldn’t remember a single time where he was this turned on.

At first, he thought it was because of a dream. When he snapped his eyes open, he felt an unusual heaviness on his body and he was sweating. It was natural for him to feel the aftertaste of his dreams on his tongue, but not only could he not remember what he was dreaming about, but the feeling still continued while he was awake.

It was hard to describe what it exactly was. He was hard as a rock. His arousal wouldn’t calm down in the slightest as if he was getting edged for the past hour or so, and there was this unfamiliar feeling right under his shaft. 

He felt penetrated, but not in the way he occasionally indulged in. This was a much much pleasant sensation.

Was that… you?

Was that how you felt when you were snugly wrapped around him? Was that what caused you to let out those maddeningly satisfying sounds of pleasure when he made himself at home inside you? Was that the kind of gratification he was able to provide you? 

Did you have any idea what this was doing to his ego right now?

Maybe this was what it would feel like if you pegged him. Maybe he needed to ask you to do that. Maybe you could give him the most violent orgasm of his life. 

You were like this hypnotizing temptress sent as an answer to all his cries for help. A goddess watching over him, telling him it was okay to commit as many abominations as he wanted as long as he worshipped you. As long as he devoted himself to you. Only you. The texture of your skin was his 3 AM thoughts. The shape of your lips fueled his worst nightmares. Your unmatched appetite for him was how he was going to die. You, you, just you, the sole perpetrator of all the crimes of passion committed against him, and he lived to be your victim.

“Harder,” he quietly mumbled with his eyes closed, “Like you want me to.”

He had never experienced something like this before. He didn’t even have conclusive proof that he was feeling you, but considering his borderline monomaniacal interest in you, it just could not be anyone else, he was sure of it. Were you dreaming this or were you actively pleasuring yourself right at that second? Or were you fucking yourself to him, or were you with someone else?

What if you were with someone else? 

Who the fuck was this person? Why would you even feel the need for another person when he existed? Your chemistry was off the charts; he could give you anything you could ask for, then why the fuck—?

Did you want him to know there was another person? Were you after making him want you even more? Drive him up a wall? Go crazier about you? Because it was working.

What if there was someone else, though? What if Chris watched this person’s laughable attempt to give you pleasure and the resultant miserable failure, then took over to show them how to properly satisfy you? What if the way you fucked each other was so damn hot that this waste of oxygen couldn’t help masturbating to how you consumed one another? What if you told Chris you fucking loved it when he got jealous over you? What if you told him you were so glad he existed and that he could have you anytime he wanted if he was going to fuck you like this every time? He would. He would. He could give you so much more, just say the word. He would even be willing to share you with someone just to fucking put them in their place. It would be so much fun to humiliate them together with you. Pathetic. Pitiful. Who the fuck were they to even think they had a chance with you? You belonged to him. You were his goddess. He was the only one who could read your beautifully sick mind, and you could rewrite a much more lethal bad romance together.

“Oh fuck, you’re killing me, beautiful.”

Chris wasn’t even touching himself. He rested his arms under his nape and treated this like he was getting his dick sucked. Thinking of you. Of your voice. Of your taste. Of the most obscene memories he had of you. The time you told him all your unhinged thoughts about him. The time you told him he owned your body. 

The time you told him to defile you. 

All of a sudden, he felt a tidal wave rising in the pit of his stomach, forcing him to arch in his bed, his cum gushing from his cock and staining all over his abdomen. Without a single touch. Just the ghost of you, haunting him.

But it wasn’t enough.

How could it be enough? How could he make do with what might have happened when he damn well knew what could happen given the agreement you had recently made?

Just don’t expect me to come to your place in the middle of the night when the craving hits. Then I don’t come to you, you come to me. If you can bring your ass to my place, I’m yours.

You had said it yourself. You shouldn’t have said it if you weren’t going to honor it. This wasn’t on him; this was your doing.

He didn’t even check what time it was before jumping from his bed for a quick shower and darting to his car with urgent steps. The second he started the engine, he found your name on his dashboard and pressed the green receiver icon next to it. It rang once. Twice. Thrice. Your dazed voice echoed in the car right before the fourth time.

“Chris?”

“Wake up if you’re sleeping,” he demanded with an impatient voice, “I’m on my way.”

Then he hung up and hit the gas pedal harder.

Only ten minutes later, he was parked right in front of your building, considering whether it would be faster if he ran up twelve floors worth of stairs. He didn’t want to wait, but he so didn’t want to wait to catch his breath once you opened that door. There was not even one second to waste.

“You say I’m horny, but I beg to differ,” you welcomed him with an entertained smile, “It’s 4 AM, Chris.”

“Shut up and sit on me,” he took off his jacket while crossing the threshold of your apartment with rushed steps, “I wanna fuck you raw without stretching you.”

“Then say you need me.”

“I need you,” he cupped your face and gritted his teeth, “I never not need your body. Fuck!”

Your lips immediately clashed against one another, and the amount of violence in that kiss was quite telling of what was about to follow. You dragged him to your bedroom while walking backwards with your lips glued together, hastily taking off everything that covered each other’s body and creating a messy trail made of garments out in the hallway.

“Didn’t even bother tidying up,” he snickered once he saw the large dildo laying on your nightstand, “Did I interrupt your self-care time?”

“You stopped by just in time actually,” you responded while spreading your legs for him, “I think I may have manifested you here.”

“Yeah?” he broke into a bigger smile while aligning himself with you, extremely content with your answer, “Were you thinking about me?”

“I’m never not thinking about you when I fuck myself,” you put your hands on his waist, “Do a better job. Fuck me to sleep.”

And that was the last straw. 

Chris didn’t even look for some lube, not that he needed much anyway. Your cunt was wet enough from edging yourself for the past hour or so. He rammed his cock into you so hard as if you were starving him, as if he hadn’t been visiting your apartment lately in gradually more frequent intervals. This. This feeling was his fix, better than the purest cocaine he could get his hands on, and you were his sole plug. In return, you always felt much fuller with him inside you than trying to substitute him with some synthetic counterpart. As the name suggested, it was synthetic. Nothing compared to the feeling of Chris throbbing inside you when you told him to go harder. Go faster. Use you as he wanted.

“Shit, cumming,” he squeezed his eyes shut, “I’m fucking cumming. Clench!”

He shot his full load on the deepest spot he could reach, fucking all the drops of cum on the shallow end of you further just to make sure they stayed where they belonged. He rode the waves of his orgasm pulling out of you until just his tip was in, then completely disappearing into you again, thrusts never losing their sharpness one bit.

“Thank you,” you flashed him a tired and utterly fucked out smile. He smiled back. Then left as quickly as he arrived.

Chris never stayed. He wouldn't be able to even if he wanted to. That was the rule.

You wondered how hard you would need to fuck him until he was too tired to leave.

The next morning went by uneventfully. The usual buzz of the kitchen served as white noise to keep everyone focused on their tasks for dinner service. Chopping, grating, kneading…  Microsurgical precision even during prep because otherwise you would besmirch the good name of Wolfgang and how fucking dare you?

Came the lunch break, Minho and Robin walked into the kitchen with a special dessert in their hands. You knew what that was because Robin only made it for special occasions, and it befuddled the crap out of you because you hadn’t told a soul about your birthday.

“How’d you guys know?!”

“Employee records,” Minho satisfied your curiosity momentarily, “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Whatever’s going to get me the Alfred cheesecake. Thank you guys so much!”

You blew out the single candle and hugged everyone one by one. Minho was the one to hug you last. His cologne smelled so pleasant on your nostrils, and unless you were fucking delusional, it felt like he stole a whiff from your neck himself.

“Chef is asking for you,” he informed you before you could overanalyze anything, “If he rides you hard, you tell me.”

He had no idea of the absolute double entendre his words carried, so you pushed your internal wheezing down as much as you could. 

“I’ll make sure to show you where the bullies are,” you smiled at him and left the kitchen.

One interesting detail to note as you were climbing the stairs that led to Chris’ office was that when you stood in front of his door to announce your arrival, you were a little nervous for some reason.

“You asked for me?”

“Come in,” he beckoned you over, and continued after you closed the door behind you, “I heard it was actually the first hours of your birthday last night when I came by.”

“Duh, you should have known. It’s called a birthday suit for a reason.” 

He let out an amused chuckle while reclining in his chair. His features seemed a little softer than usual, but it could very well have been an optical illusion because of his dimples.

“I wanted to properly wish you a happy birthday.”

“Thank you.”

“Sit.”

You moved towards the couch in front of his desk, but he stopped you halfway through.

“No,” he tapped on his desk with two of his fingers, “I said sit.”

You held his gaze for a couple of seconds, but it felt like half an hour. It was surely unexpected for him to initiate anything at his shrine as he called it, but there he was, telling you to sit on his desk. Right in front of him. On his eye level. You approached him with slow steps and settled on the spot he guided you to.

“It’s lunch break,” he stated the obvious fact, “Time to eat.”

It was mindblowing how Chris could be nonstop horny like a college freshman who was a virgin until very recently, but you actually liked it. No, you loved how eager he was. How much he seemed to want you. You loved being the object of his desires.

“Aren’t you going to stop me?” he asked while pulling himself close to you.

“Why would I?” you nonchalantly responded, “Have you ever blown yourself? Those lips make me wanna murder someone.”

“What if someone comes in?” he started undoing the buttons of your pants and dragged your zipper down.

“Maybe I like the risk.”

“What if they report it?” he slid your pants down your legs.

“Then it’s your problem. I’m just following the orders of my boss.”

“You don’t think I’m being a creep?”

“You would be if I wasn’t this into you. I think you’re just being a tease right now.”

Chris loved any indication of how sexy you found him. He never got tired of hearing this, and he was never going to. 

“So you’re into me,” he slowly got rid of your underwear, “How much?”

You spread your legs wide as a response to show him how wet you were. How much he liked the view was apparent in the depth of the sigh he let out.

“I’m quite into you, myself. A lot, actually,” he held your gaze intently, “Wanna see exactly how much?”

You gnawed on your bottom lip and nodded. Chris brought his beautiful face closer to your heat almost in slow motion and finally finally closed his luscious lips on your glazed folds, causing you to exhale deeply. 

“Up. Down. Up. Suck. A little more. Now swirl. Fuck, just like that.”

Combined with his leftover thoughts from the night before, the way you were guiding him sparked an idea in his mind. What if he was the one giving these commands? 

But to someone else.

What if he told a third party what to do to you? What if he watched another guy have his way with you? Just so he could hear how much better he knew you, he fucked you, he pleasured you. What if they had you cater to them, then pleasured you until you passed out as a thank you?

It drove him insane.

Chris followed all your instructions to a T, extracting all your essence out of you shortly after. He particularly enjoyed how you were caressing his hair when you were cumming in his mouth.

“I need to eat too, you know,” you spoke once you managed to come to your senses, and it elicited a silky chortle from him.

“Shit you call ‘girl dinner’ nowadays I swear…”

“Wanna switch places or do you want me to kneel?”

“I like it when you kneel for me,” he ran his fingers through your hair, then allowed you to descend between his legs and nestle there.

His erection was already pressing hard against his pants, impatiently waiting to be set free. You took his pants off and spread his legs wide, trying not to drool at how hard he was for you. It was like he was getting more gorgeous every time you saw him. You teased his tip the way he liked it, slowly dragging your tongue on the sensitive skin, and softly kissing along his girth.

“I can’t stop thinking about fucking you. I have a problem,” he caressed your cheek with his thumb, “You just breathe in my general direction and I get rock hard.”

This. The talk. He knew the exact right things to say to spur you on. It could have been pretend, but you didn’t care one bit. It always made you want to please him more. You licked, and licked, and licked, then took him deep down your throat.

“God, I so wish we were in my bed right now,” Chris quietly whimpered at the intense sensation, throwing his head back, “You look so beautiful like that, I kinda wanna give you a cumshot.”

You hummed at the mental image, and he melted. You were fucking perfect around his cock as if your mouth was made to suck him off. So that he could empty his balls there whenever he wanted. You sighed deeply, and he felt the pressure building right below his abdomen.

“Get up. I’m cumming inside.”

He quickly sat you down on his desk again, and disappeared into you, holding you in place from your waist as he was drilling you hard. Then he exposed your neck to give you the sloppy kisses he always did, but he smelled something unusual but very familiar already laced there.

Minho’s cologne.

“Thoughts on knotting, baby girl?” his thrusts got way sharper all of a sudden as if he wanted you to alert the people in the vicinity.

“If you can somehow manage to do it, I’m super down,” your fingers slithered towards his nape to hold on tighter.

“Who else? You know your pussy is mine to breed.”

Chris could feel something boiling inside him. He wasn’t mad at you per se, but he was mad nevertheless. The thoughts riddling his mind were getting out of control already, and the existence of this scent on you surely didn’t help calm him the fuck down. He was going to say it. He was going to risk it all and say it. If you asked what the hell the matter was with him, he could just say it was a spur of the moment thing and that he didn’t mean it.

“Though I wouldn’t mind watching someone else fuck you.”

His words pressed a button in your brain, and you remembered your very first dream about Chris. In his crisp suit, sprawled on a couch, sipping on some expensive scotch while watching you get devoured. He would listen to you moan. He would get hard to your screams of pleasure. He would stroke himself to your sight maybe. Maybe he would cum. Maybe he would ask you to swallow even.

You clenched.

“You– You wanna share me with someone?”

“Not share, per se, I just wanna see them try. To prove no one can make you feel the way I do.”

“That’s so damn cocky even by your standards,” you sneered, “but I kinda wanna see how you can claim me back.”

Oh, good fucking god, you liked this.

He started going faster. You pressed your palm against your mouth to stop yourself from making loud noises until you got used to the new rhythm.

“You’ll wait for me to say your name when some guy fucks the wits out of me, but I just won’t,” you spat through your teeth, “You’ll regret ever inviting a third person when you could have all of this to yourself.”

“See the best part about fucking you is not even cumming. It’s how fucking dirty you are. It’s the ride,” he briefly stopped to wrap your legs around his waist, “It’s the best fucking thrill ride I’ve ever been on.”

His fingertips were sinking into your ass, and he found that soft, spongy spot inside you that he loved so much. He was getting close.

“I kinda wanna make you pass out from pleasure, but keep fucking you. You’ll come to your senses with your pussy in my mouth. Then we’re fucking again,” he tangled his fingers in your hair, “What are you doing Saturday, baby girl?”

“Thinking of a birthday party. Wanna come?”

“Cancel it. You’re fucking me.”

He pulled on your hair at the last word and started dashing to his finish line. When you bit into his neck, it sizzled so good that he erupted inside you as if you threw a molotov cocktail into a tank of gasoline. You let him spill every last drop and rest his head on your shoulder until he came down from his high.

“Did you mean it? When you said…” he hesitated, but he needed an actual answer, “About someone else?”

“I mean, depends,” you responded while putting your clothes back on, “I need to know for sure they are discreet.”

The scent of the cologne that didn’t belong to him was all Chris could think about. Discreet. So as long as it was discreet it was okay with you?

One look at his metaphorical chips, and Chris decided to go all in.

“What if I know just the person?”

You had some memorably wild birthdays back in the day, but none of them required any negotiation beforehand. In your defense, you also never had a boss with benefits in possession of an inhumanely high libido.

The plan sounded simple, ‘sounded’ being the operative word. You were initially apprehensive about how this could potentially turn out awkward after the fact, but Chris reassured you on that front with how much he trusted this person. He had offered to be the middle man of communication so that everybody was aware of the mutually agreed upon ground rules prior to your meeting.

“So what do you have in mind?”

“You’ll get a free pass. Whatever you desire, we oblige, but on one condition,” Chris explained to you, “He can’t do anything I haven’t done to you before. Nor can you do anything to him you haven’t done to me.”

“Say I wanna peg him?”

“No one’s stopping you. You’re just pegging me first.”

“It’s my birthday, but this sounds like you have the ropes still,” you cocked a brow.

“Oh, I do, don’t I?” he faked an epiphany, then broke into a mischievous smile, “Would you look at that?”

Thus the reason why you felt like you were on your way to some set on Saturday night.

One interesting suggestion had come from your guest for the night. Were you to accept it, he recommended ingesting a substance called ‘24K’, popularly known as liquid gold, to heighten the experience.

“What does it do? Get us high?”

“Not in the way you think,” Chris clarified, “It’s an actual aphrodisiac used in some rare recipes with strict dosage restrictions. It will kick up your sex drive, and your senses will also be much more sensitive.”

“And that doesn’t sound like a hallucinogen to you?”

“Does it really matter what it sounds like as long as it feels like you’re getting gangbanged when I eat your pussy?” he smirked, but continued more seriously, “Joking aside I would say an unequivocal no if I didn’t know what it was. The decision is yours.”

You weren’t really sure if the decision you made was the right one, but you were excited about it.

The meeting location was decided as Chris’ place. Up until now, it was always him coming over to your apartment, which wasn’t a deliberate thing to prevent you from coming over or anything—he just visited so frequently that you didn’t feel the need to change venues, so this was going to be your first time seeing his habitat in the flesh. The building was very much on par with what you allowed yourself to imagine when you saw his address—a luxury condominium with a hotelesque high-ceiling lobby, extremely polite staff, and a handful of people who you assumed to be occupants walking around looking like they were cast to be there. Yes, that good looking.

“Right away, sir,” the model-like gentleman that welcomed you quietly hung up the phone, and swiped a tiny envelope with the building logo embossed across the granite counter, “Here’s your one-time code, miss.”

“A code?” you looked at him questioningly.

“Yes, to operate the elevator since it directly goes up to Mr. Bang’s residence,” he confirmed, “It’s on the top floor.”

A penthouse. Why were you even surprised in the first place?

You did know about Chris’ fame, of course, but you had to admit how foreign it felt for a second there. In reality, he was so unreachable that people needed one-time codes to cross the threshold of his privacy. Meanwhile, you had gotten so used to his presence that he had stopped being Chef Bang to you some time ago—he was just regular Chris, albeit still quite extraordinary. You could be so full of yourself for thinking this, but the amount of comfort you shared with each other seemed like something special. Special to the extent that it made you smile so big when you opened the envelope to enter the four-digit code into the elevator keypad.

Your birthday.

When the elevator doors opened again, you found yourself in a short, carpet-clad hallway with dark beige walls and warm white lighting, a single heavy-looking brown pivot door looking right at you. Once you pressed on the doorbell, everything suddenly felt so real that you got nervous. The door opened with a muffled clank, and you immediately questioned the reality you were experiencing because hot—fucking—damn!

“Hey, beautiful.”

Not that he wasn’t already criminally attractive on a weekday, but Chris looked ultra fine that night. Skin-tight pants, jet black blazer, and of course the silver chains. Good god, the chains. Not the chains…

You knew this exact fit from some dark bedroom with velvet walls.

He took a small vial from his pocket that harbored some ambery liquid in it, then sucked some into the dropper in the cap.

“Entry ticket. Stick your tongue out for me.”

Three drops fell on your tongue. Thick density, savory, quickly spread on your palate but didn’t necessarily invade the tastebuds. 

“Syrupy,” you observed after swallowing, “I really like the taste. What’s in this?”

“You’re a trained chef. Can’t you tell?” 

“I meant besides the obvious honey,” you deadpanned.

“What else?”

You swiped your tongue on your palate, then exhaled with your mouth closed to run the flavor in your mouth again.

“I’m inclined to say… saffron?”

“Good job,” a smirk stained his lips, “Five points to Slytherin.”

You stuck your tongue out again to get your well-deserved reward, but the two drops of liquid gold were followed by a 24K kiss from Chris. Wetter and a lot hungrier than usual as if it was possible. It caught you off guard, but you had absolutely no complaints.

“What was that for?”

“A little pre-game treat for me,” he held the tip of your chin, “You look ravishing tonight. I couldn’t help myself.”

“Did you have any of this before my arrival by any chance?” you pointed at the glowing vial in his hand.

“Maybe,” he confessed then led you inside by gently pushing on your waist, “But then again you get me so fucking horny on the regular that I can’t really tell the difference.”

Your eyes were scanning every piece of detail they could perceive as you walked behind him. Chris’ place felt like a breath of fresh air. Spacious, for sure, but also unexpectedly cozy with the warm lights cast on different shades of beiges and browns and khaki greens contrasted by dark anthracites of his kitchen which even had a 50-bottle wine cellar next to his gigantic fridge. Modern architecture with moderner furniture, simplistic but tasteful decorations all around, and a magnificent view of the city sprawled right under your feet flaunted through the large curtainless windows.

Then you took one step into the living room area, and it kicked in.

You felt like you were being enveloped by something warm. The colors became even warmer and more vivid. For some reason, you felt like you were glowing and you felt fucking amazing.

“Damn, why didn’t you tell me there was a dress code for tonight?” you asked Chris while looking at the man sprawled on the couch.

Equally sharply dressed, equally cocky posture, sporting his long, wavy hair with several stray locks falling in front of his eyes. It was the first time you were seeing him like this rather than his usual clean-cut look at work.

Minho looked nothing short of a charming player.

“The princess of the night finally arrives!” he raised the scotch glass in his hand, “Happy birthday, your grace.”

“Princess?” Chris scoffed a bit too empathetically, “She’s a fucking demon.”

“Be nice, it’s my birthday,” you settled down on the empty seat to Minho’s left and reached for the drink Chris poured for you, “but yeah I kinda am.”

“Have you decided on your course for tonight?” Chris asked from the armchair he threw himself on, diagonal to you.

“I think I’m in the mood to have two guys worship me.”

“By all means. It’s time we got a baptism from some goddess anyway.”

“Baptism with cum and spit,” you retorted and took a sip from the icy amber liquid, “That’s new.”

“I’d be careful with the liberal use of the word cum,” Minho warned you and pointed at Chris with a nod, “His fangs come out whenever it’s mentioned.”

“I see. So we’re doing exposés on each other,” Chris raised his brows and crossed his legs, “This dude right here likes it too much when he hears praise. Give it a go.”

You turned to your left and scanned Minho from head to toe. He looked unfazed, but you could see how his shoulders were tensed up.

“Have I ever told you how gorgeous you are?” you fixated your eyes on his chest, then looked right into his eyes, “You work out?”

“I do.”

“I love thick thighs in a man,” you caressed his inner thigh, and in return, he not so discreetly throbbed in his pants.

“And I love women who love thick thighs,” he brazenly ogled your breasts.

“Men lose it when you ride their thighs,” you dragged your hand down his leg, “And I like it when they get weak for me.”

“You know when they also lose it?” he sat up in his place and wet his lips with a single drag of his tongue, “When you have a sloppy as fuck make out session with their balls.”

“Duly noted.”

Interesting. Kissing was a simple act, but it was like a fingerprint for how differently each person executed it. When Chris kissed you, you felt your soul being set on fire. It was loaded with lethal amounts of passion and lust, and it made you wanna stop living for yourself and start living to please him instead.

Minho was much calmer. He kissed deep, somewhat slow, not touching anywhere else on your body other than your face, allowing just a kiss to do its job to seduce the fuck out of you. His lips were so full in your mouth, immediately making you wonder what they would feel like on more secluded parts of you. You liked the muted hums he let out as he swirled his tongue around yours, and they increased in volume by just a tinge when you palmed his bulge straining his pants.

“So?” Chris asked, trying not to make it too obvious how turned on he was by the sight, “Which kiss did you enjoy more?”

“Am I allowed to say it’s him?” you looked at him with hooded eyes.

“You are, but what you’re not allowed to do is lie,” he pointed at you, “And that is one.”

“Take the L like a champ, man. Don’t be a sore loser,” Minho quipped, very content with the answer you delivered.

You didn’t take your eyes off Chris as your smirk got wider, and he reciprocated, but you had learned to render the shades of anger that occasionally flashed in his eyes.

Oh, this was gonna be so much fun, wasn’t it?

“You talked a big game about how she tastes,” Minho caressed your back, “I wanna see it for myself.”

“You should. It’s pretty damn delicious,” Chris got up to his feet to lead you both to an even more restricted area, “but don’t make a habit of it if you want to live.”

His possessiveness was internally making you scream your lungs out. Oh, he knew. He knew what he was doing to you. He knew one good kiss was not enough to swipe you off your feet and he loved shoving that right in front of Minho’s face.

It was weirdly wholesome actually. Dare you said even a fucked up love language. 

If you walked into this bedroom without knowing who it belonged to, you would still be able to pick it out as Chris’. A massive bed dressed in black satin sheets overlooking the flickering lights coming from the pier, a huge framed picture of a full moon right above the headboard, dark grays and off-whites all around but by no means bleak. Ironically enough, this room somehow exuded the peacefulness of a safe haven.

“Any accessories you want?” Chris turned on the lights and dimmed them to a sultry lumen, “Blindfolds, cuffs, toys?”

“No, just you,” you responded as you stood by the edge of his bed, “and all the lube you have.”

You. As in second person plural. Chris knew that of course, but he didn’t give a fuck. You did say just you. Nothing else.

He had to take a deep breath to fucking stop himself from jumping you.

He took a couple of steps towards you and brushed his fingers on your collarbones first, then peeled your top off. As he took your lips between his, you unbuttoned his blazer and cascaded it down his shoulders to put his perfect figure on display. Then you felt Minho right behind you unclasping your bra and exposing your chest fully.

“Oh, they feel so full,” Chris noted while fondling your breasts, “Are you ovulating? Are we finally gonna breed you today?”

You hated how he knew what to say to get you to throb that hard.

“Take off her clothes,” he commanded Minho while unbuttoning his pants, “Then get between her legs.”

As Chris was getting rid of his own clothes, you let Minho strip you bare, then threw yourself right in the middle of Chris’ insanely comfortable bed. After getting fully naked, Minho crawled between your legs and kissed your thighs, awaiting his directions from Chris who was cuddling you on your right. The familiar vial made another appearance, and the drops of the golden-colored liquid felt cold on your pussy. Satisfied with how it dissolved into your own slick, Chris firmly demanded.

“Eat.”

Minho’s mouth on your cunt was pure heaven. Your eyes immediately closed when he licked a long stripe, and it was the perfect pairing to Chris kissing all over your neck. 

“I like it wet,” you didn’t wait long before telling Minho exactly what you wanted from him, “Lick all over me.”

While Minho was busy pleasuring you just the way you liked, Chris kept paying attention to your upper body, touching you, kissing you, licking the salt off your skin and replacing it with his own. The wetness you felt all over you amplified threefold courtesy of some saffron extract, and even just looking at these stunning men working you was enough for you to have a violent visceral reaction.

“God, yes, just like that. Now suck on my clit,” you directed Minho further.

You tugged on Chris’ locks to make him look at you and pulled him in for a kiss he so desperately was waiting for. You were trying to make a point with how deep you were kissing him, but you weren’t exactly sure if it was reaching him at all.

“Your pussy eating skills are as fantastic as your thighs after all,” you turned your attention to Minho again, “You’re fucking perfect.”

Hearing you praise his performance like that, he got even more eager, burying his face deeper into your cunt.

“If Chris lets you come play, come sit on my bar sometime,” Minho licked his lips and spread your pussy lips further apart, “You taste fucking incredible.”

“Well, she can’t. She has prior engagements,” Chris answered on your behalf, “Don’t you, baby girl?”

You involuntarily laughed, and Chris kissed your smile away, getting your lips raw from how much he was coating them in lust.

“You’re gorgeous. You’re a goddess. You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered into your ear, “Can I make it feel even better for you? Do I have permission?”

You nodded eagerly, not knowing what to expect in the slightest. The warmth on your right side was gone. When you opened your eyes, you saw Chris crawling between your legs right next to Minho, and it made you shiver.

“You take her clit,” he casually instructed, “I have an unhealthy attachment to her cum.”

You watched them take their positions, and even though you were about to implode from this sight alone, you managed to stitch some words together.

“Lick it spotless.”

“Paradoxical,” Chris uttered with an unamused expression, “You need to stop dripping first.”

You could feel everything. 

A pair of tongues gliding on you. So wet. So fucking obscenely wet. Minho’s tongue was on your clit, teasing it with the very tip whereas Chris was licking into your oozing hole, gently prodding your entrance with his flattened tongue and fucking into it every once in a while. Getting showered with slippery attention by two insanely gorgeous men ready to cater to your every whim made you feel like a queen, and you were about to have the most egocentric orgasm of your life.

“Chris,” you convulsed under their intense ministrations, “Come– Come up.”

He was surprised to be the one you called out to, but he pulled himself up right next to you again.

“Caress me,” you put his hands on your body, “Please.”

Please. He was pretty sure you didn’t know about the weight this particular word carried.

Please. Or maybe you did, and you were doing it on purpose again.

Please. Give him one reason not to worship the floor you walk on.

He ran his hands all over you with his lips glued to yours, kissing you, licking you while Minho was on the fast track to make you snap. When you felt your orgasm threatening to unleash, you grabbed Chris’ face and inhaled his lips, your moans rippling throughout his body. He didn’t let go until your body went limp, soaked in the afterglow languor, not having an ounce of strength to hold onto anything anymore.

“He did good, yeah?” he caressed your face and nodded for confirmation, “Shall we return the favor?”

You hummed a fucked out yes, and he gestured for Minho to get on his knees.

“I’ve always wondered what it would be like to dive into my girl’s freshly fucked pussy,” Chris broke goosebumps all over your body with the single finger he dragged down your shoulder, “He’s going to fuck you for my viewing pleasure now.”

You momentarily found yourself in his arms, back flushed against his chest, as Minho settled between your legs, awaiting his instructions.

“I want her pussy properly stretched. Soaking wet. Walls throbbing. You’re not going to pull out. Fill her up for me,” he firmly ordered then placed a kiss on your shoulder, “Then I’ll come take what’s mine. Fuck it deeper to make room for myself. We’ll see who makes you feel better.”

As Chris started leaving open mouth kisses on your neck, you watched Minho take position, and you noticed him for the first time. Full girth and mouthwatering curvature, and it reminded you of one of the massagers you owned. There was more than enough slick covering your cunt, but you were still struggling to take him, and judging by the extremely satisfied look on his face, he fucking loved it. It was so obvious that your sounds of mild discomfort were stroking his ego big time, and he didn’t even try to be subtle about it. When he finally managed to sink into you, you felt so full that your eyes rolled all the way back.

“We can do this day and night if you can take it,” he squeezed your legs as he bottomed out, “Let’s ride, princess.”

Minho was off to a great start. His rhythm was like a pulse with sharp thrusts of his hips deep into you. He was after enjoying himself first, relishing this maddening pleasure buried inside you before setting off to look for a spot to make you see white.

“He needs visual stimulants, too, don’t you reckon?” Chris turned your face to him, “Make out with me.”

He wasn’t simply kissing you at this point. It was so loaded with want and hunger that it felt more like a respiratory exchange. Too much sighing, short-lived moans, and wet, wet, just so wet, coating each other with as much bodily fluids as you possibly could. You had a raging suspicion that Chris was after making you regret not openly declaring his kiss as your favorite. 

Minho, on the other hand, was in no rush fucking you. He was just savoring this, savoring the indecently salacious view in front of him, which felt like he got to fuck the star of a hot porn clip he stumbled upon in real time.

“You’re doing great, baby girl. I’m so fucking proud of you,” Chris kissed your shoulder again and cupped your breasts, “Feels good, right?”

All you could produce was incoherent sounds. A simple touch on your body was magnifying to the extent that you could feel it everywhere, so you couldn’t even utter your own name if he asked you right now. You remembered how to nod in between your moans.

“But it should feel great,” he uttered emphatically to Minho, “It should feel so fucking good I need her to cry.”

When his name was uttered again, you opened your eyes to take Minho’s sight in. He was a goddamn beast. So damn gorgeous all around and he was fucking you good. How you couldn’t even properly open your eyes was telling enough of what a good job he was doing.

“Swollen as fuck,” he swiped his thumb on your clit, and looked right at Chris with a sly smile, “I have a great idea. You know what it is.”

“Should I lick it when he’s fucking you?” Chris asked in your ear with a soothing voice, and you almost combusted to his words alone.

“YES!”

“Tsk, rude, baby girl. What do we say when we really want something?”

Say it again, he was repeating inside, Again. Beg. Beg for me.

“Please, Chris—topher,” you adjusted the end of your address properly, and the fact that you remembered flew him over the moon.

Chris didn’t rush to leave your side. He started his ministrations by softly caressing your clit like he was petting you as Minho kept a steady, endurable pace. 

“Look at me when he fucks you,” he demanded, getting his fingers properly wet in your mouth, “Eyes on me.”

Give me attention. I want to be the only thing you lust after. Want me. Want me. Want me. Give me special privileges in front of him. Show him I matter more to you because you want to please me.

He started drawing circles on your cunt with his now slippery fingers without any pressure. The idea was to make you melt into him, but the way you jolted when he touched you ignited something wild in him.

“Did you know your body screams my name?” he whispered into your ear in a volume only you could hear, “You’re getting fucked this hard, but you’re still shuddering when I touch you.”

He stopped his strokes and gestured Minho to stop and take a breather while sliding away from under you and laying you down on your back. Then he lowered his face on your pussy as Minho took position again.

He timed himself so that his first lick would align perfectly with Minho’s first push. The pleasure running laps throughout your entire bloodstream was so concentrated that you couldn’t dare open your eyes. But it wasn’t just about how intense the feeling was.

It was the fact that this had turned into a race of who could get you there faster, and you were dissolving in the amount of attention they were subjecting you to.

“Overwhelmed?” Chris chuckled teasingly after a while, “Feels too good?”

Their movements gradually came to a halt to give you some rest since you actually looked like you could pass out. Minho made creative use of the lube on the nightstand to rub the soreness away from your legs while Chris climbed up to your right side and started stroking your hair, showering you with kisses on your forehead, your temple, and face to soothe you to the best of his ability.

If you didn’t know any better, you would be inclined to say he was almost making love to you.

“We just get each other, don’t we? We understand each other better than anyone else,” Chris softly spoke when your breathing returned to normal, then nodded at Minho to carry on, “I know you’re dying to take both of us right now. You can say it. Min’s not one to judge.”

Minho was probably expecting you to get embarrassed or something. When your eyes met his, you bit into your bottom lip so hard and you unwittingly snickered at each other.

“The question is can your tight cunt really take it? You can barely take me as it is,” he dragged his fingers from your chest down to your abdomen and fixated his gaze on Minho with an absolutely sinister smile, “And he’s quite endowed himself, right?”

Minho twitched so hard inside you that it was impossible not to notice. You took one look at Chris and you could feel your brainwaves syncing to concoct a quick little plan to gang up on Minho.

“He’s a fucking beast. Just look at this gorgeous body,” you put your hands on his waist and slid them down, “And his thighs, god, they’re so fucking juicy I wanna take a bite.”

“So you like his performance,” he threw his arm over your shoulder, “Why don’t you give him a review?”

“I know what you’re trying to do,” Minho warned Chris through his teeth, “Stop it.”

Neither of you was intimidated by his pseudo-threat. Not one bit. You leaned into Chris more and started praising the shit out of Minho with a shit eating grin on your face.

“Ravages pussy like he should, A+ tongue game, god tier stamina, and fucks like an unhinged maniac.”

“Stop it.”

“You’re insanely sexy, Minho. You’re so my type, I fucking love it.” 

“I said stop it.”

“Makes me wanna take you up my ass right fucking now.”

“OH, FUCK YOU!!!”

Heck, you enjoyed hearing praise during sex yourself. It was a great mood setter when used correctly, but that was about it for you. Witnessing someone so weak for compliments to the extent that they would cum this violently was a first and boundlessly entertaining to watch. Once Minho managed to come back to his senses, he reverted back to his no fucks given attitude and made himself comfortable on your left, trading places with Chris. You were a little sore, but Chris had been waiting long enough for his turn. He drenched you in lube and slid right in to pick up where Minho left off.

He felt electrified all of a sudden.

“Damn, your load is a bit heavy, huh Min?”

“Demon princess here got me a little worked up,” Minho chuckled, still wiping sweat off his forehead, “I have no fucking idea how you can stop yourself from cumming every five seconds with her around.”

“Who says I can?”

Chris could actually feel Minho’s cum inside you. Volume so dense that it felt like he was dipping himself in an entire bottle of lubricant. It was turning him on way too much that he couldn’t even control how loudly he was groaning. Only a couple of pumps in, he put his initial plan on hold and pulled out of you.

“Look how much you made him cum,” he showed you the thick white liquid glazing his cock and dripping off his tip, “I wanna watch you suck him off of me.”

The sight topped the chart of the dirtiest yet most erotic things you’d ever seen, easy, and it was making you salivate. You promptly got on fours before him once he laid down, not even caring about teasing him like you usually would. You straight up choked on him.

“God fucking damn, taking me that deep without being asked. Just how fucking fantastic are you?”

As you were devouring Chris, you felt some movement behind you, and shortly after Minho’s face was between your legs again, about to taste you from scratch one more time.

“Her clit only,” Chris urged in panic, “The cum stays in.”

Then Minho began munching on your tingling clit. He was pushing you down on his face from your hips, and there was no way for you to escape his death grip. You were writhing in how unendurable the overstimulation quickly became, but your whimpering on Chris’ cock was sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout his body.

“Look at what he’s doing to himself while eating your creampied pussy,” he broke into a delirious smile, “Ride his face for me. Make him suck on your clit harder.”

When you looked back, you witnessed Minho lazily stroking his cock with one hand, making happy little sounds into your pussy in the meantime as if he was tasting the rarest delicacy that ever existed. Thinking about how you were still filled with Minho’s cum and watching you blow him like your life depended on it riled Chris up too much too fast. There was no way he could hold back any longer.

“Yes. Fucking yes, milk it out of me. God, I’m gonna soak you in cum,” he swiftly sat up straight and started pumping himself frantically, “Stick your tongue out.”

Chris was already feeling like he was being edged for the longest time, watching Minho fuck you into his own bed and devouring your pussy. The second his eyes landed on your tongue, strings of his warm seed spurted all over your face and glazed your skin deliciously.

“Clean her face,” he instructed Minho while descending between your legs just to eat your creampied pussy for his own pleasure, “Spotless.”

Without having him say it twice, Minho laid down beside you and prompted you to close your eyes by brushing his fingers on your eyelids. Deprived of your sight, you felt the pair of wet muscles gliding on you even more profoundly, one on your folds and the other on your face ridding you of any trace of cum. You didn’t know what exactly took over you when Minho licked a clean stripe on your cheek, but you grabbed his hands to steal his attention.

“Let’s share.”

It wasn’t a request per se; you just informed him that you were going to do it. 

And when Chris caught a glimpse of what you were doing, he felt like his entire body got shocked.

You asked Minho to share his taste with you. Strike one. You were sucking on the coat of cum on Minho’s tongue so hungrily like you were starved for days. Strike two.

Then you swiped your fingers on your cheekbone to collect some of his cum and dared to start rubbing your clit with it as your personal lubricant.

Chris fucking lost it. 

It was most likely a byproduct of liquid gold, but he still couldn’t believe how fast he recuperated to get fully hard again. He started following the rhythm you liked so much before he took what he needed from you.

Up. Down. Up. Suck. A little more. Now swirl. Swirl. Swirl!

You moaned loudly into Minho’s mouth, properly dizzy and most likely out of any more orgasms to have by then. He soothed you with kisses on your face as you rode out your high on Chris’ mouth.

“You know what would make you taste even sweeter?” he wiped his lips with the back of his hand, “Double frosting.”

Through your almost blurry vision, you saw Chris getting on his knees and aligning himself with your throbbing entrance, too conveniently slippery for him to slide right in.

“Open up.”

He dragged your bottom lip down to prompt you to open your mouth, and then you felt a trail of saliva landing on your tongue. Out of everything Chris did the entire night, oddly enough, this one felt like his most possessive move.

“Jerk him off for me. Let’s get your tits creamed, too,” he declared his final request of the night, then addressed Minho, “And you know what you need to do.”

Minho positioned himself so he could lick your clit while allowing you to stroke him comfortably. Chris’ eyes on you were a bit intense as if he was trying to tell you something, but you weren’t in possession of any reasoning anymore to decode what it was. You just focused on his breathing instead. How it escalated as his pace got faster. How he got two steps closer to his final destination. How he had your entire soul in a chokehold at that moment even though there was another man with you in this bed.

Minho interrupted your long-running existential crisis when he suddenly stopped and fucked himself into his hand until he covered your chest with a much smaller volume of cum this time. You were unbearably sore at that point so you stopped him when he attempted to go down again. He hopped off the bed as soon as he collected himself and gathered his clothes.

“You kids carry on. This night never happened,” he pressed his index finger on his lips and winked, then disappeared into the hallway. Mere moments later, you heard the sound of water running. 

You felt so vulnerable under Chris all of a sudden.

“I don’t– I don’t have to finish if y—”

“I’m fine. This is always my favorite part,” you wrapped your arms around his neck, “What’s the point if you’re not breeding me in the finale?”

A tired smile appeared on his lips, and he put his hand under your waist to support your body better. The front door opened and closed in the distance, indicative of Minho’s departure, and for some reason, once he left the premises for good, Chris started running to the finish line as fast as he could, unable to look away from your eyes.

I do. I do worship you. You’re all I ever wanted.

There were so many things he wanted to say, but it was neither the right place nor the right time, not even the right point in the timeline of his life. 

“Chris…”

As if you didn’t do anything to each other the entire night, the second he heard you call his name, his entire body convulsed over you. You let him rest his head on your shoulder for some time as a pleasant sense of fatigue slowly started to envelop you. The acts committed throughout the night were highly questionable, but you felt satisfied.

You felt happy.

“Rest now,” he pulled the sheets to cover you from the shoulder down, “I’ll go take a shower first.”

“Can you wake me up if I fall asleep?”

“Mhm.”

When Chris came back to his bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, you were indeed sleeping. He sat down beside you and watched the way your chest softly rose and fell for a while. He was feeling a weird sense of tightening in his ribcage when he realized he actually didn’t want to wake you up. Could he fake that he tried but you didn’t wake up if you asked him? Could he—?

“Oh, you’re back,” you opened your eyes, sleep still dripping from them.

“I was– I was about to—”

“Mm, you smell good,” you smiled while inhaling the pleasant scent of his shower gel, “I’ll go take a shower. I sacrificed myself to two sex gods tonight.”

Chris involuntarily burst out laughing as you got up to your feet.

“I put out towels for you in the bathroom.”

“Thank you,” you ruffled his damp hair.

You gathered your clothes and walked to the bathroom naked. When you emerged again, you were fully dressed as though you had never seen each other naked before.

“Thank you for tonight,” you peeked into the living room where Chris was lounging on a couch reading, “I had a great time.”

“It’s late. I’ll give you a ride.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know,” he closed the cover of the book and grabbed his car keys, “I want to.”

You were both so tired that nobody uttered a word throughout the whole drive, but it felt safe. It felt nice to have Chris with you. As you were looking out the window watching the streetlights pass by, your heart was doing these weird somersaults, and you were feeling this intense urge to smile like an idiot for some reason.

“Thank you for agreeing to spend your birthday with me,” Chris softly uttered as he pulled the handbrake, then immediately corrected himself, “I mean… with us.”

“It’s not like I was doing you a favor, you know. I had a blast myself,” you smiled knowingly, “You were too hot to handle tonight.”

You saw something on Chris’ face for the first time. It was a smile alright, but it was almost almost laced with a tinge of shyness.

Your heart skipped multiple beats.

“Good night, Chris,” you stole one last glance from him and exited the car.

He watched you until you walked into your building, then went home to properly crash. Little did he know he wasn’t going to be able to get the rest his entire body was craving.

Chris found himself in an unfamiliar room. Sitting. He wasn’t tied or anything, but he wasn’t able to move. He knew the bed he was facing; it was his own. You were on it on fours. So was Minho.

Fucking you.

“Admit it, you want me more,” Minho was smiling maniacally as he pulled on your hair, “You came so hard with me, your legs were shaking.”

“Don’t say that to his face. He’ll never be able to take it,” you looked dead into Chris’ eyes, “No one’s ever gonna love you, Christopher.”

Chris snapped his eyes open with a gasp, completely covered in sweat. He had no idea what the fuck was up with what he witnessed just now. Were you seeing this in your dream by any chance? He didn’t know.

But what he did know was that he did not like what he saw.

He got up from the couch he passed out on and poured himself a tall glass of cold water to soothe his insides. Something at the back of his head was telling him he was neck-deep in trouble, and it was too late to nip it in the bud.

There was nothing he could do anymore besides helplessly waiting for the cancer to spread until it killed him.

「© 2023, exxxtraoddinary · No translations, rewrites, or reposts permitted」

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