Delulu writer

The rain came down like it had a grudge. Each drop sounded like a heartbeat Yunho couldn’t calm. He stood in front of her apartment door, soaked through, fingers trembling against the metal handle. He shouldn’t have come. He knew what seeing her did to him , it hollowed him out and filled him with her all over again.

He knocked once. Twice. The door opened.

Y/N stood there, framed in the dull hallway light. No expression. Just those eyes … empty and unreadable, the same ones that used to look at him like he hung the stars.

He broke first.

“Y/N, please… I just-… I can’t do this anymore.”

His voice cracked. He hated that it cracked. The words spilled out like something had finally broken loose inside him.

“I know I hurt you. I shouldn’t have left, I shouldn’t have said those things-…but I can’t breathe without you.”

She tilted her head slightly, like she was studying a stranger.

“You always say that,” she murmured, her voice calm, almost soft. “You always come back when it’s convenient for you.”

He dropped to his knees before she could shut the door. The rain soaked his jeans, his palms flat against the cold concrete.

“No, please, just listen- I didn’t mean to leave. I thought I could forget you but I can’t. You’re everywhere, Y/N. I see you when I wake up, when I sleep—”

Her expression didn’t change. He looked up at her, eyes wide, like a lost child waiting for forgiveness.

She sighed a slow, tired sound that cut deeper than any scream could. She stepped closer and knelt down, fingers ghosting through his wet hair. The touch was gentle, almost affectionate, but her gaze never softened.

“You shouldn’t have come back, Yunho.”

He blinked, confused.

“Why? Don’t you miss me? Even a little?”

Her lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile.

“Miss you? Maybe. Trust you? Never again.”

She stood, crossing her arms, and for the first time, Yunho noticed the flicker of something in her eyes ,pain, anger, or maybe something darker.

“You think you can just walk back into my life, apologize, cry a little, and I’ll fall for you again?”

“I don’t care if you hate me,” he whispered. “Just… don’t shut me out. Please.”

Y/N looked down at him. For a second, the wall around her almost cracked. Almost.

“You really don’t get it,” she said quietly. “I don’t want to hurt you, Yunho. But every time you’re near me, I become someone I don’t recognize. You bring out the worst in me.”

The hallway was silent except for the rain. Yunho stood slowly, meeting her eyes. There was a flicker of something … a memory of warmth, of laughter, of love that once felt endless.

“Then let me stay,” he said. “Let me be your worst. I don’t care.”

That broke her composure. She laughed … soft, humorless, fragile.

“You think that’s love?”

He nodded, eyes shining. “If it’s not, then what is?”

She stared at him for a long moment, like she was searching for the right way to destroy him. Then, finally, she whispered:

“You don’t love me, Yunho. You’re addicted to the chaos we made together.”

She turned her back and opened the door wider, stepping aside. For a heartbeat, Yunho thought she was letting him in. Thought maybe she still cared even just a little.

But then she said, quietly,

“You should go.”

His breath caught. “Go?”

She didn’t turn around.

“You came here looking for the version of me you remember. The one who waited for your calls. The one who cried when you left. She’s gone, Yunho. You buried her yourself.”

He shook his head, stepping closer. “No… no, I can see her. She’s still there, I know she is.”

He reached out, fingers brushing her arm. She froze . not pulling away, but not leaning in either. That stillness was louder than any scream.

“You can’t keep doing this,” she whispered. “Every time you come back, you take another piece of me.”

He let out a broken laugh. “Then take mine too. Take all of it. Maybe that way you’ll feel something again.”

Finally, she turned to face him. Her eyes glistened under the dim light, emotion flickering for the first time but not the kind he hoped for.

It was guilt. Or maybe pity.

“You don’t understand,” she said softly. “You think I don’t feel anything, but I feel too much. That’s the problem.”

For a second, the air between them changed heavy, magnetic, dangerous. The way her voice dropped, the way his breath hitched it was like they were standing on the edge of something they both knew they shouldn’t touch again.

He whispered, “Then why can’t you just let me in?”

She smiled faintly, but her eyes didn’t match it.

“Because if I do… I’ll never let you leave again.”

That silence that followed wasn’t peaceful. It was suffocating. Yunho took a step back, realizing she meant every word , not as a threat, but as a truth she was trying to protect him from.

He wanted to speak, but she reached out and pressed a finger gently to his lips.

“Go home, Yumurmured. “Before we destroy each other again.”

“Y/N…” His voice broke on her name. “Please.”

She didn’t answer at first. Just stood there, still as the rain outside, her face unreadable , almost too calm. The kind of calm that comes after you’ve already fallen apart once and promised yourself never to do it again.

He reached her, breath uneven, eyes glassy. “Don’t send me away. Not again. I can’t—” His voice cracked before he could finish. The words dissolved into silence, into the trembling sound of his breathing.

For a long moment, she said nothing. Her gaze flicked over his face. the desperation, the trembling hands, the tears threatening to spill. He looked at her like a man begging for air, like she was the only thing keeping him alive.

Then, with a quiet exhale, she reached out. Her cold hands brushed his cheeks, and before he could even react, she drew him in slow but firm , wrapping her arms over his neck and pulling him against her chest.

His breath hitched, a sharp sound swallowed by the fabric of her sweater. He clutched at her waist, burying his face into her shoulder as if he could hide from everything the pain, the distance. His tears soaked into her skin, warm against her cold composure.

She held him tighter. Her expression didn’t change; her face remained calm, distant that same mask she always wore. But her arms… her arms said everything. They trembled faintly as she held him close, fingers curling into the back of his shirt like she was afraid to let go.

“You’re such an idiot,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Always coming back, even when you know it’ll hurt.”

Yunho shook his head against her chest, his voice muffled. “I don’t care. I’d rather hurt with you than be numb without you.”

Her breath caught. For a second, the façade slipped , her eyes softened, the tension in her jaw loosened. She pressed her lips gently to the top of his head, closing her eyes.

“You’ll destroy yourself like this,” she murmured.

“Then let me,” he breathed, looking up at her, eyes red and glistening. “If it’s for you… then let me.”

Something in her broke then - not loudly, not visibly, but deep inside, like a fracture that had been waiting too long. Her thumb brushed away a tear from his cheek, slow and deliberate.

“You’re impossible,” she said, her voice shaking now. “And I hate that I can’t stop you.”

He smiled weakly through his tears, resting his forehead against hers. “Don’t stop me. Just… stay. Even if it’s only for tonight.”

Her fingers tightened behind his neck, pulling him closer until their foreheads touched. “Just tonight,” she whispered.

But they both knew neither of them would ever really let go.

The rain outside turned to mist, and for that one fragile moment, the world felt quiet. His trembling breath against her skin, her heartbeat steady beneath his ear , two broken souls finding warmth in the ruins of what they used to be.

Not healed. Not whole. But together.

A/N: *sigh* your girlys tired (what do we think!!!!)

Word Count: 10.2k (oops)

A/N: hello again, my darlings! I come bearing another romantic Hongjoong gift. I’m currently in the middle of writing another member, but this came to me like a vision in the night. I simply could not ignore it. 🥲 aka I watched a period piece drama and needed to write aristocratic Kim Hongjoong asap. 🫠 Please I encourage leaving some feedback for me. I would love to hear your thoughts, emotions, or anything really! 🤍 18+ content, so please, minors DNI. Enjoy!🥂

Warnings: ye olden times talk (lol), romantic fluff and sweet love makin’, pet names, sensory deprivation (blind fold & fabric restraints used on reader), unprotected sex, oral (f/r), if I missed any pls let me know. 🩷

Proofread: Of course! But, you know the drill. If you see a mistake, no you don’t. 💌

You found yourself at yet another party for people you really did not care to socialize with. But of course, you could not deny your dear friend the company she begged for from you. You would much rather be at home immersed in the newly acquired novel you picked up from the bookstore the other day, upset that you were almost finished with it already. 

     You lived in a small town in the countryside, so it was always the same guests with nothing special to celebrate. Usually parties consisted of single wealthy men in search of a bride, so her father was always happy to oblige in their search by throwing these lavish evenings in their ballroom. You weren’t sure why you still attended, seeing as you did not care for any of the men that made the guest list. Maybe it was the consistent nagging of your childhood friend or your parents giving you a hard time for still being unwed at your age. Either way, it felt more like an obligation to throw your best dress on for another night of mingling with socialites. But then again, this was better than sitting at home with writer’s block. You were trying to write a fairytale of your own, but life was just so dull and uninspiring. Artists needed a muse, and you simply didn’t have one. You longed to experience romance as you did in the books you read time and time again, but alas, the same boring people did not tick all your boxes to deem worthy enough for the romance you daydreamed about.

This predicament always arose when you found yourself at these parties. Every man who you became acquainted with stayed just that — an acquaintance. Half of you wished your standards would be lower so you could finally marry and have children, but you knew in your heart that that was far from what you craved. You wanted passion, risqué rendezvous at midnight, adventure, and all the in between that the novels you spent so much time reading described, but mainly you wanted something worth writing about. Maybe then you could finish the godforsaken book you’ve been trying to write for months now. 

     You were trying to pay attention to a current conversation you were having with a military official who was boasting about his assets when your eyes drifted elsewhere, his bragging tone of no interest to you. You dreamed about being whisked away by a magical force to a far away land where the flowers sang along with the breeze and the rays from the sun danced on your skin. It was so sudden, but when your gaze was shifting back on the man in front of you, they caught a pair of chestnut eyes burning into you.       

     You looked around, not sure if they were truly set on you or not, but to your surprise, there was no one else around they could be looking at. You held the stare, your interest piquing immensely. It was like a string was tied to you because you felt a tug from behind your ribs when his gaze didn’t falter. 

     “Are you alright, Miss?” The man in front of you brought your attention back to him, breaking you from your hazy dream. 

     “Ah, yes I uh, I just need some air.” You excused yourself from the ballroom and into the garden. You took a seat on one of the benches near a rose bush, the red and pink petals shining under the night sky, the sweet scent filling the air around you. It wasn’t long before you heard a soft melody erupting from the piano that sat in the ballroom. You got up and roamed back inside to see what the commotion was all about. You lingered in the corner off to the side, watching as everyone danced and laughed while others drank and talked with voices too loud. You noticed a group of women gathered around the piano, giggles and awestruck smiles adorning their faces. As you got a bit closer, you could finally see what they were fawning over.

Sitting at the piano was a man with tousled hair the color of coffee, his sharp features focused on his slender fingers as they skillfully danced elegantly across the keys. Your breath hitched in your throat when his fingers stilled and the music stopped, silence filling the room before thunderous applause took over the atmosphere. He looked up, and you swore time itself froze.

     Your eyes locked with chestnut once again, and suddenly the newly familiar tug in your chest returned, leaving you breathless.

—

     “Back so soon are we?” The bookstore owner teased, smiling when seeing your embarrassment displayed on your cheeks. 

     “The last story was so captivating. A boy who never grew up, a magical fairy and pirates? It was an adventure I couldn’t seem to put down.” 

     “Well, maybe you’ll find something that lasts you a bit longer than the previous tale.” He smiled, the wrinkles etched into his aged face a comforting sight for you. You placed the small green leather bound book on the counter and began your search for a new fairytale to be entranced by. Your fingers grazed the books on the shelf lightly as you walked down the ilse, reading the titles, waiting for something to cause that initial spark that made you giddy. You stopped over a blue book with silver color bindings, your finger buzzing as it hovered over the spine. You pulled it out and opened it to sample a page. As you felt your mind begin to wander off into the fictional world you were ready to dive into, you didn’t notice the creak of the front door open and the owner greet the new customer that waltzed in shortly after you.

     “Ah, Mr. Kim, it’s an honor. And what brings you into my shop?”

     “I’m just looking for a light read to fill the hot days with. Any recommendations?” The man asked, and the owner hummed in response, pondering over the options.

     “Well, the fantasy section might pique your interest. A good love story is perfect for the longer days of summer. It might even inspire you,” The hinting smile in his tone was obvious, but went unnoticed. The man chuckled at the old man’s words before headed towards the shelves with the recommended genre.

    “I’ll have a look then, thank you.” He said with a smile. You we’re so enraptured with the words on the worn pages that you didn’t realize the presence that lingered just behind you. 

     “Good day, Miss,” A tenor voice from behind you brought you back to the present and away from the book in your hands. You turned around and the tug instantly returned as your eyes met with chestnut once again. 

     “Oh,” you stuttered, unable to form a coherent thought with the pianist from the other night, but now he was standing before you. “Good day, sir.” 

     “It is a good day indeed, now that my eyes have stumbled upon you again.” You felt your cheeks heat up from the sudden flirtatious advances. “I believe it is fate that brought us here to find each other again, don’t you?” The corners of his mouth turned upwards into an honest grin. 

     “Hm,” you contemplated playfully, noticing how his gaze never faltered from your face. “Fate indeed that the stars wanted our paths to cross once again.” 

     “Maybe this time I will be allowed more than a few stolen glances. Perhaps I’ll have the pleasure of knowing your name?” You clutch the novel in your hand a bit tighter, letting your name slip from your mouth carefully. You saw a small flicker of something you couldn’t quite figure out in his expression, a firm smile and kind eyes still exposed to you.

     “It’s a pleasure to formally make your acquaintance.” He bowed, extending his hand out in front of you, waiting for your hand to be placed into his. Once obliging, your palms met and his rosy lips brushed lightly over the top of your hand, lingering over the warm flesh for more than what was deemed appropriate. 

 “The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Kim.” You hated how your heart fluttered slightly at the delicate touch. His eyebrow shot up in surprise without his cool exterior faltering as his name fell from your mouth so easily. He wondered how you’d known. Perhaps you overheard his previous conversation with the owner. 

     “Please, call me Hongjoong. No need for formalities.” 

     “Very well then. And what brings you here, Hongjoong?” You looked back over to the shelf, pretending to nonchalantly browse the titles under your fingertips.

     “Well, I play the piano, and very much enjoy writing symphonies. However, I am spending the summer away from the city to clear my head a bit. ”

     “Well, Mr. Kim. You’re quite the talk of the town as of late, and I hear that you’re currently the most eligible bachelor.” You recall from all the gossip from around town that you had not stopped hearing about since the party. You learned that he had just arrived that morning and was quickly invited to play that evening. 

     “Is that so?” He took a step closer to you, and you felt yourself subconsciously step a fraction back, not realizing the bookcase was so close behind you. “And what do they have to say?” He was baiting you, and you knew it. Kim Hongjoong was said to be one of those men who frequented the city brothels only men of his status could afford, or he would find his way into the beds of aristocratic women that you absolutely could and would never associate yourself with. Part of you didn’t want to believe the rumors, but the way his eyes trailed your body left you unsure.

  “Not much really, just how handsome you are, and how the way you play piano is a form of art all on its own.” He straightened his stance at that, a proud grin appearing across his features. But you noticed that it still seemed lacking, like the current compliment of the whole entirety of the town wasn’t enough for him or his ego. 

     “And what do you say?” His brow perked up inquisitively, eagerly awaiting another form of praise to drop from your lips. You lightly scoffed under your breath, just enough for him to hear it.

     “I have nothing to say about you.” You simply stated matter of factly. His smile didn't fade like you’d expected it to. Instead, it only grew, like you were challenging a lion waiting to pounce. 

     “I see,” he hummed in response. His eyes trailed down your body, fixating on your hands that were now crossed in front of you, your fingers slightly white at how tight your grip had gotten on the borrowed book.  “I see no husband accompanies you, and no band adorns your left finger. Why is a woman who possesses such beauty as yourself not wed yet?”

     “Because, I have yet to find a man who has any interest in what I love most.” 

     “And what would that be?” You adjusted your stance in hopes this conversation would end soon, his gaze suddenly feeling patronizing. You tapped your fingers against the book in your hands and nodded knowingly. “Books, I presume?”

     “Not just books, Mr. Kim, but the stories that lie within the pages. Fantasy, adventure, romance…it’s all so fascinating to me. It’s hard not to get lost in another world. Naturally, this is something I tend to fall victim to as I am a writer myself.”

     “Well, I see nothing wrong with that,” he claimed, his confidence filling the air around you both. “You’re a well educated woman. Any man would aspire to have a wife with that quality.” 

     “I dream in rose color, Mr. Kim, and I’m afraid no man takes a woman like me seriously.” He clicked his tongue, looking around the room before leaning forward to hover his lips just above your ear.

     “Not all men can handle a woman like you then, now can they.” He spoke low, his chest vibrating as his words rang in your ear and sent shivers down your spine, his breath hot against your skin. The breath you were holding in your lungs suddenly was lost as you inhaled, your senses being overwhelmed by citrus and bergamot. 

     “I-” you felt yourself stumble back and lose your footing, a quiet yelp escaping you. You prepared to tumble back into the shelf behind you when you felt his hand grasp the small of your back and pull you close to his chest. Instead, you found yourself crashing into the pianist, and the two of you hit the ground unceremoniously. You looked down into chestnut and swore you saw the sun when a toothy grin appeared across his face, followed by a hearty laugh. You sprung up after what felt like ages, not sure how long you lingered in his space with curious eyes trying to read him like one of your beloved novels. Once the both of you stood back up, the air turning awkward between you two, he picked the little blue book up from the floor that you hadn’t realized you’d dropped, and held it out to you.

     “Careful, people may think you’re falling for me already.” You felt your features twist into a mildly disgusted expression before a very audible scoff left your lips.

      “You’re…insufferable!” You pushed past him, not wanting to admit the way your heart twisted when you heard his chuckle from behind you.          

     “Good day, Mr. Kim.”

     “I’m sure we’ll see one another again soon.” He winked, but you pretended that you didn’t see it to avoid your face from flushing more than it already was.

—

     The days of summer were passing by in a blur, and you grew more frustrated that you couldn’t write a single thing without feeling mediocre, resulting in you crumpling the paper up and tossing it onto the floor. Inspiration still remained hidden from you, like a treasure you had to hunt down. Your days weren’t always bothersome though, seeing as you started seeing a certain pianist in the bookstore more frequently. You often found Hongjoong at the bookstore whenever you returned for another new read, but as the warm days came and went, you noticed he would sometimes be in the fantasy section browsing the books as if waiting for you to show up. Or, other days, he would be in the back at a little table with his brows furrowed and a pen in his hand as he scribbled treble clefs and b sharps to add to his stack of sheet music.

     You tried your best to stay away, you really did. Not wanting to be the next name in everyone’s mouth, but something wouldn’t allow you to keep your distance for long. It was when he was absolutely enthralled by his work one afternoon that you felt the tug again, the invisible string pulling you towards his hunched over figure. As you approached, you cleared your throat to make your presence known.

     “Ah, what a pleasant surprise to see you again!” He looked up momentarily from his jumble of ink stained papers, his hair a tousled mess and plum crescents circled underneath his puffy eyes. 

     “I was beginning to think you were avoiding me.” 

     “Trust me, I tried.”

     “But?” A mischievous grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, his eyes sparkling like diamonds.

     “Well…you frequent the one shop in town that I do, so it’s unavoidable, I suppose.” Your excuse did not fool him, but he did not say anything about it.

     “I see…” he looked around the mess in front of him and stood up swiftly from the wooden chair, creaking slightly as it slid across the floor under his weight. “Would you like to go on a walk with me?” He blurted, as if the idea just came to him at that very moment. Stunned, you looked out the small window at the front of the shop and then back at him

     “Hongjoong, it’s nearly sundown.” 

     “Perfect,” he gathered the papers and shoved them under one arm, offering the other for you to grab onto. “I’ve been wanting to show you something.”

     You two walked not too far, the conversation light and easy as you strolled on his arm through town. Once you reached the edge, cobblestone soon turning to dirt and grass, you noticed a stone path leading up the hill and through a clearing of willow trees. You recall staring up at the aged trees as a little girl, always wondering what magic lied behind the swinging branches. You stopped at the first stone, your grip on his arm loosening as you allowed your arm to unhook from his.

     “What is it?” He turned around with a quizzical expression on his face at the loss of your touch. His eyes met yours, concern filling his dark irises as he looked into your own. 

     “Nothing, it’s just I…” you trailed off, unsure if it was appropriate to engage in such private conversation with a man you hardly knew. 

But that’s the thing. You simultaneously felt like you’d known him for lifetimes prior to this one, and it made your skin buzz at the possibility. The very thought confused you, yet you felt excitement lingering in your bones every time he laid eyes on you and the tug pulled you to him.

     “C’mon,” he held his hand out to you, his palm inviting yours to rest in his. “Do you trust me?” You weren’t sure what exactly possessed you to place your hand in his and slowly nod as a silent confirmation that yes, you did trust him. Why? You were unsure. But something inside you told you that you were supposed to go up that hill and beyond those trees that evening. So, you allowed him to pull you along behind him as you made your way up, up, up until you reached the very top.

     You felt the air get knocked from your lungs when your eyes set upon what was in front of you. A beautiful garden that lit up with fireflies, sprites dancing around the leaves of the trees as the warm evening breeze allowed the flowers to sway in time with the music of nature. 

     “Hongjoong, what…is this place?” 

     “Do you like it?” He peered over at you, the warm glow from the candles burning in their lanterns above casting the most radiate light onto your skin, your lips parting in fascination as you watched his garden come to life as the moon and her stars filled the night sky above. 

     This, he decided, was the purest form of beauty he’s ever seen — You adorning the moon’s elegant light upon you. He did not dare admit that he thought your beauty almost outshined mother moon’s in that moment.  

     “Like it? I’m captivated by it.” You couldn’t find the words, too awestruck by nature’s true beauty as it flourished and came to life in the beginning of the night.     

     “This is my home away from home,” he chuckled at the disbelief that had made its way onto your face. “I grew up here.” You looked just past the garden to see a large house with more windows than you’d ever seen, greenery overtaking the brick walls. You noticed that there was a metal staircase that spiraled up to meet a balcony, a beautiful stained glass window with florals depicted in the vivid colors.  “Would you like to take a look around?” He tugged you along, excitement flooding your veins as you walked through the various plant life, the different scents filling your senses. From roses to peonies, marigolds and tulips. They mingled together to create this Heaven on earth as magic hung in the air around you.

     You took note of the fountain in the middle, frogs ribbiting and grasshoppers chirping as the night came to life around you as you ascended up the aged metal staircase. Once utop the balcony, you ran over to the edge of the thick railing, crashing into it as you took in the whole garden from above. The wind blew your hair around your face, and Hongjoong swore his heart stopped beating in that very moment.

     “It’s like a fairytale.” You whispered more to yourself, but Hongjoong caught every word of it as he leaned against the half wall with you. “Oh Hongjoong,” you sighed dreamily, your chin falling into your palm as you rested your elbow on the marble below it. “Isn’t it the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?” He felt the corners of his mouth turn upward slightly, his eyes falling onto your lips, his hand clenched into a fist as he fought back the urge to press his body against yours and kiss you with everything he had. Instead, he chuckled under his breath, his eyes never leaving your face.

     “Yes, indeed it is.” 

— 

     When the middle of summer hit, you did not ever dream of feeling this alive. Hongjoong had let you into a secret garden that opened your eyes to a world beyond the books you found yourself lost in. That alone made your heart soar, and you felt your heart flutter every time you were around him. 

     Small, innocent brushes of his hand against yours as you made small talk about anything and everything, feeling completely comfortable in one another’s presence once you started spending more and more time with one another.    You hadn’t experienced this feeling before, but it felt like what every book you had read had described this feeling to be…but you were hesitant at first. 

     It wasn’t until you found yourself under the August full moon in his garden, your heart trembling as the energy in the air shifted that night. Something had changed, but you couldn’t figure out what exactly. As you popped various fruits into your mouth and drank the fizzy liquor he had brought out from the house onto the balcony to make “the perfect midnight picnic” he had claimed, you couldn’t help notice the way his eyes lingered on you for longer than usual. You saw his hands tremble ever so lightly and his features displaying a softer side to him instead of his usual charming facade. Your body was slouching back against the metal as you gazed lazily up at the twinkling stars that littered the sky, feeling completely at peace as you usually did in his presence. You heard him say your name under his breath, pulling you from whatever fantasy you’d made up in your head that evening, to see him standing inches from you. You’d noticed he had trapped your figure between his arms as he pinned you against the railing, his breath warm on your face as he inched closer, sending your heart flying manically within your rib cage.

     “I-I think I’m falling in love with you…” he stuttered nervously, bluntly, shamelessly. His eyes darkened and were full of something you couldn’t understand. You felt your breath hitch, your mind fogging over in a lavender haze as you tried to dissect his words.

     ‘I’m falling in love with you.’ His words rang in your ears, your chest swelling uncomfortably as you responded with no thought behind your response, but more so you just allowed your intuition to guide you through the dangerous storm that was your heart, your feelings for Hongjoong that you had suppressed and refused to acknowledge because he was a player. How many other women did he confess to just to get them into bed with him? For so long, you refused to be labeled as one of them. But now, you couldn’t, wouldn’t, deny yourself and your emotions any longer. You didn’t care about the rumors, you didn’t care about his reputation. You only cared about acting on your feelings that had recently began to surface. 

     “Kiss me.” You requested softly. You half expected his ego to ruin the moment you reciprocated his advance, but you were surprised when his playboy exterior had not returned. Instead, if it was even possible, his eyes shined brighter than the stars above you two as an innocent smile painted itself across his face as his hands came up to cup your face sweetly. You could feel the beat of his erratic heart through his fingertips as he closed the gap between you two. 

     His lips on yours was absolutely electrifying, like bolts of lightning shooting through your veins and you could have sworn you heard the sky unleash a crack of thunder as the rain began to pour down onto you both. You didn’t care, even your mouths refused to seize their movements against each other as your tongues crossed one another in the most heated kiss you’d ever experienced. Both his hands clutched your face a bit tighter, pulling you deeper into him, sucking your bottom lip in between his own pair and making you dizzy.

     He started backing up, taking you with him through the French doors inally and led you to the fluffy bed. He backed up into the mattress and collapsed against the warm fabric with you on top of him. You stayed like that, lips never leaving one another for hours, lazy kisses and fingertips exploring every inch of your wet skin until your lips were too swollen, and the clothing was too much to keep against your skin.      

     You swallowed the foreign feeling of surrender as you allowed your heart to experience the pleasure your body was. You instead focused on the way his calloused hands worked at the soaked fabric of your dress, the material slipping from your figure and to the floor, leaving you in your slip that stuck sinfully to you, leaving nothing to the imagination as the cotton fabric exposed you as if you were bare. He removed that as well in time, his jaw going slightly slack and his eyes becoming hooded once he had you naked before him. He did not dare rush, but simply wanted, needed, to take his time with you, savoring every little detail of your curves, your dips, and your edges. He felt the dam holding in his overwhelming emotions break, once your eyes locked again and he saw your smile.      

He knew in that moment that he was in love with everything  that was simply you.

     You woke up later that night, feeling absolutely blissful after recalling how his body felt against yours for the first time, memorizing the sounds he made as he burrowed himself deep in between your legs. You felt a blush dust across your cheeks as the memories played out like a play. 

     You were soon drawn from your visions when you felt nothing next to you in the bed, the sheets abandoned long ago. You looked over across the room frantically, only to find him hunched over at a table, a lantern illuminating the concentration on his face as he scribbled onto tea stained paper. You watched him for a while, but it wasn’t long before he felt your eyes on him, causing him to return your gaze. He smiled tiredly, standing from the table and making his way over to you, a thin robe exposing his chest as he strode over. 

     “Did I wake you?”

     “Not at all, I was just upset that the bed was cold.” He chuckled, his breathy laugh sending a soothing emotion through you. 

     “I’m sorry, I just needed to get this song out of my head…would you like to hear it?” You nodded, eyes lighting up at the thought of him playing for you. “Very well then,” he grabbed the sheet music and placed it at the grand piano just next to him, the chair squeaking under his weight as he sat down. He cracked his knuckles, shaking his hands out to loosen himself up before inhaling deeply and looking over the paper one last time before he began to play.

The room suddenly filled with so much emotion, it was nearly suffocating. Your eyes watched how his fingers strategically danced across the keys, the motions seeming so effortless as he swayed back and forth in time with each key being pressed. The melancholy melody painted the room various shades of blue and gray, the music reminding you of the midnight sky and the feeling it evoked when you longingly looked up at the stars and wished for your heart’s deepest desire. It was the sound of how it felt to talk to the moon when you prayed for your wish to come true. It was indescribable with words, but Hongjoong was able to convey every emotion lingering in the air with his fingertips. 

     When he stopped playing, you came back down from the cloud you’d perched yourself on top of as you lost yourself to the lullaby he had created, and you felt tears burning your eyes. 

     “That was lovely. You play beautifully.” You commented, voice barely there as you allowed your eyes to speak for you when words had failed you. 

     “Thank you,” he gathered the pages back up neatly, placing them back on the holder before reaching for the glass with a swig of amber colored liquor left in it that sat on the table. “It’s meant to portray longing. It’s an insatiable feeling that gets deeply rooted into your soul if you’re not careful. Even if you grab hold of something so tightly and never want to let go, sometimes you feel that sense of greed that you need more, even if you have the whole world at your fingertips.” You hummed in response, feeling the ache in your chest burn as you dared ask your next question. 

     “What was your inspiration?” His eyes finally settled on yours, a sad smile making its way onto his lips before he sighed.

     “You.” 

—

     As the sun began to burst into bright hues of oranges and reds, painting the sky as it set for the day, you unlocked the gate that led into Hongjoong’s garden, the sprites welcoming you back once again to the fairytale you longed to escape into. As you approached the spiral stairs that took you to a land that seemed far far away from reality, there he was, the handsome prince of your summer romance, waiting for you at the top. 

He was bent over the railing, a bottle of fizzy liquor half empty dangling from between his fingertips as his eyes searched the sky for something he would never say out loud. A miracle maybe, that someone would someday come sweep him away from the tower he deemed himself trapped in.  

     “That’s very Romeo and Juliet of you,” you laughed from the bottom of the steps, taking one of the leaves of ivy that wrapped around the railing in your finger, the leaf turning a bright green in the sun’s evening glow. You saw him shake himself from his daydream and look down upon you. He let out a breathy laugh as his eyes focused onto you and how your aura was a bright gold at this hour. Maybe this was his golden hour, you standing in his blooming garden, the butterflies and fairies dancing around you as you looked up at him like he was some kind of god that you worshiped. He pondered on the thought.

     “I suppose, but why do I have to be Juliet? I’m not a damsel in distress.” You giggled under your breath as you began walking up the steps.

     “Are you sure about that?” He rolled his eyes, taking a swig from the crystal bottle before extending his arm out as he waited for you to reach the top. “It’s okay, I’ll rescue you. Just don’t drink any poison before I arrive.” You reached for the bottle he gripped tightly onto but willingly gave over to you. He smiled, a kind of stoic look appearing on his face. 

     “I can’t make any promises,” he sheepishly grinned as his eyes diverted down to the bottle in his hand. Your heart trembled at the way his words rang with a hint of truth and a cry for help with how his eyes flickered with a hint of sadness, but that was something you would address another day perhaps. 

     He held the door open for you to enter, the last beams of the sun’s light shining through the stained glass and creating a rainbow of color on the walls. 

     “I’m only kidding, you know.” he made sure to assure you, you not noticing that he could see the sudden panic in your eyes as you approached him. He walked past you and collapsed onto the bed, a weight filling the air that suddenly caused you to follow suit. You crawled on top of the duvet next to him, waiting for him to open the door to his secret wonderland once more. His head hit the pillow, eyes looking up at the ceiling, hands laying flat on his chest. “I just…” he sighed, trying to find the words while seeking out the courage to let you through the door to his heart. He reached over and pulled you to him, his head rolling to the side to rest his lips against your temple. You were soon thankful for him closing the space between you. 

     You tiptoed around Hongjoong, like trying not to scare a fawn away. That was your biggest fear — losing him. But when the warmth of his lips met your burning skin, the thought of him running away vanished quicker than it had arrived. 

“So when do I get to read one of your stories?” He questioned, eyebrows wiggling teasingly. You groaned at the thought as you tried to forget that you had not picked up a pen to write since you started seeing Hongjoong more. 

“I don’t have anything to show you, unfortunately.”

     “That’s alright. Maybe you just need a little inspiration.” 

     “That’s exactly what I need. It’s not easy to come by when you’re surrounded by the same things and people everyday. There’s just nothing to write about.”

     “There’s enough gossip floating around town that you could find something to write about, I’m sure.” You hummed in response, the air in the room falling into a comfortable silence before he spoke again, much more softly this time. “They’re not true you know...”

     “Hm?” You turned to the side, your eyes focused on the shape of his mouth as he spoke.

     “The rumors,” he deadpanned, the words not easily slipping from his tongue. His jaw clenched slightly, and you knew you were approaching something touchy, but if he allowed it, you would slowly walk towards that door he was willing to open for you.

     “What do you mean?” An exasperated sigh fell from his lips, but you knew it wasn’t directed towards you.

     “I’m sure you’ve heard them by now, just like everybody else. ‘Artist Kim Hongjoong, the playboy, makes his rounds into a different bed every night.’ ‘Pianist Kim Hongjoong was seen leaving the brothel once again.’” He trailed off, the annoyance seeping into his tone.

     “You can’t truly believe that anyone believes that about you.” You supplied, but you knew Hongjoong wasn’t buying it when he let out a cold laugh.

     “Clearly you haven’t been around town lately.” Even though you knew it wasn’t supposed to be a jab, you could feel the knife pierce your skin with the way he spoke his words with a hint of venom laced between each letter.  “Besides, I’ve tried time and time again to save my image, I really have. I don’t know how it even started...” he paused, feeling frustrated, with hurt taking over his soft features, hardening him like a shell that wouldn’t crack.  “It’s like, if I pretend I don’t hear what they say, it’ll all go away if I ignore it long enough. I’ll forget about it and move on. But you don’t see the way people look at me…maybe I’m not cut out to be in the spotlight. Maybe I should just stop playing and-” You sat up and took his hands in yours, your heart beginning to jump within your chest like a wild rabbit.

     “That’s nonsense, and you know it.” You urged, your words beginning to get stuck in your throat. “You’re too talented to let this dream go. You’re already so loved here, who knows how far your music could take you.” You rubbed circles with your thumbs into the top of his hands, your eyes refusing to meet his own. “Please…don’t. Hold onto it…so tightly, even if it suffocates you. Don’t let anyone or anything take it away from you.” The desperation leaked from your voice, and you weren’t sure if you were referring to his music or yourself, but with the way he pulled you closer to his chest, you knew he wasn’t sure either.

     You wouldn’t push him to say more, and Hongjoong was silently thankful for that. The words you both didn’t want to speak were dangling threateningly over both your heads the closer Autumn became. You both knew the end of the summer was your doomed fate, but neither of you dared to speak of it. You simply pushed it away from reality instead, allowing yourselves the peace of existing in a garden of mystical creatures and fireflies as the long days blurred into shorter nights. Every moment spent together was filled with glitter and magic, and every bit of fantasy you could ever ask for. You wanted to be his, gods, did you so desperately want to be his, but you would rather have this little piece of him that he offered to you willingly, than nothing at all. 

     The little fragments of himself that he chose to share with you were so precious, whether that be a tender kiss to your temple as a silent confession, or when he stayed up until the sun woke up and the dew covered the gardens outside to write something beautiful just for your ears to hear later that night. You never asked for anything, but were grateful when he let you into his inner world, a place you knew no one but him was allowed to explore, reside or dwell in. 

     There were days you would just lay together, no words exchanged between the two of you, just the steady beating of your hearts. Those were the days you laid in bed waiting for the sun to set so it would welcome the moon and her stars into the sky, the air filled with laughter and sweet nothings being whispered onto sticky skin. Once the stars littered the sky, soft whimpers and gasps would fill the hazy atmosphere when fingertips grazed sensitive spots on exposed skin, when kisses were slow and drawn out, lazy but intentional. Swollen champagne lips and strawberry kisses melted into burning flesh that craved to be touched, to be loved. Ignoring the empty liquor bottles that littered the floor from the days you were not there fueled a new fire within you. 

     You felt the need to save him from everything that plagued him, a need to save him from himself, but you didn’t even know what this was between the two of you, let alone know if he even wanted to be saved. But, as the days blurred together like your vision when tears formed in your eyes when the sun was too bright in the early afternoon, you realized it would be harder and harder to stay away from him. All of you wished for it, but you knew both of you didn’t have the strength to comply with that, nor would you ever ask that of him. So, with a heavy heart, you decided that wanting was enough. 

     For you, it was enough. 

—

     As the cool September breeze rolled through the open window and past the sheer curtains, you let your eyes wander around the space you began to think of as home, reflecting on the summer days that had passed by in such a blur. You saw the wind chimes that played a symphony of their own, the large weeping willow tree just outside the window knocking into the stained glass harmonizing with the clanking metal. You saw the way the birds flew around, singing the beautiful lyrics of nature, the grasshoppers playing their legs like a violin as butterflies fluttered around in a synchronized dance with the fireflies. 

     Your eyes finally landed on Hongjoong’s ethereal figure next to you. Some strands of his hair stuck to his forehead as his chest rose and fell to steady his erratic heartbeat underneath his rib cage. Your gaze trailed down his bare chest, the smooth skin glistening with a light sheen of sweat. The delicate sheet draped just over his lower half, his hip bone peaking out slightly. One arm was stretched behind his head for support as he laid there with his fingers combing through the hair at the base of his neck with his eyes closed. 

     His other hand trailed along the soft skin on your back, both of you bare and exposed to the walls surrounding you. Paintings you had created together when the air was sticky and the fruit he brought from the garden was sticky sweet, hung on any available space, making each wall feel cluttered, but it was how Hongjoong liked it. 

     All you, always. Compressed into an overwhelming suffocation. It was beautiful and made it hard for him to breathe in the most intoxicating way. 

     Your attention was brought back to the moment when you heard him exhale contently and felt the sheets rustle next to you, his front now nuzzling into your side. You felt the tip of his nose graze across your skin, inhaling deeply and exhaling with a content sigh.

     “I wish we could stay like this forever,” he admitted into your sticky flesh, his hand coming up to caress the exposed breast that was uncovered from the sheet. Your eyes fluttered closed as you felt his mouth place wet kisses onto the mound of flesh that adorned your chest, his lips taking your nipple in slowly as he let his tongue rile the bud up. You sighed, feeling a wave of arousal crash into you. 

     “Tell me you love me,” you whispered breathily, the air surrounding you warming up as you felt the disbelieving and honest chuckle rumble from within his chest, as if he couldn’t believe you’d tasked him with something as easy as breathing. “I want to hear you say it again,” His mouth came off of you with a pop as he looked at you through his thick lashes. He laid his head across your chest, his ear pressed just above where your heart was wildly beating like thunder during a vicious storm.

     “I love you,” he reached up and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, not letting the fondness in your eyes go unnoticed. “I love you with everything that one human could possibly give to another.” He rubbed his thumb lightly across your cheek, a small smile forming across his lips as he stared at you. “I love you earnestly, passionately, and irrevocably so.” He paused, lifting his hand to cup your cheek lovingly. He scooted up, putting his arm over your abdomen and supporting himself up. He swiped his tongue across his bottom lip, and soon was dipping down to press a lingering kiss to your lips before continuing. “I would willingly give myself to you in any way you wish to have me.” You felt the blush dust across your cheeks at his words, as if pulled from one of your favorite novels.

     “I must admit,” you propped your head up with your chin on your forearm, eyes lazily looking into his as he laid back down beside you to get a straight on view of your features. He swore he would never tire of the sight before him. “I feel the same way.” He chuckled in response, his hand going to the back of your head as he used his fingers to comb through your hair. 

     “I would sure hope so. If you didn’t, I would be questioning your motives.” He joked, his smile spreading when you rolled your eyes and laughed under your breath. 

     “I’m serious! I have never loved another this way, nor do I ever want to.” Your eyes became glassy when you saw the sun shine in his own, the sunset painting an array of hues across his porcelain skin. His other hand reached down to grab yours, his lips pressing feather light kisses to each fingertip, his eyes never leaving yours as he did so, his gaze growing serious and intense. A shiver made its way down your spine in response to his affection. 

     “Would you die for me?” His lips stilled on your skin, waiting for your response. You could feel his hummingbird heart about to take flight in his chest the longer you let the air between the two of you stay silent. 

     “Of course.” You simply said, the words easily leaving your swollen lips to your own surprise. You weren’t sure when that had become an absolute truth in your heart, and you didn’t want to ponder on the thought for too long. “You’ll be the one to kill me in the end, anyway.” 

     “‘You say I killed you, so haunt me then.’” Your eyes darted up at him, a knowing smile making its way across his face. 

     “I didn’t know you read Brontë.” 

     “There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he lightly traced patterns into your back, your head falling back onto his chest. “But I’d like to change that.” Next thing you know he is hovering back over you, his intense irises locked on yours. His strong arms pulled you into his embrace, the stickiness on his skin from your previous endeavors heating up under your touch like lava. He reached over to the nightstand and opened the drawer, pulling out three matching black satin ties and sitting up straight above you so he could see the entirety of you. “Do you trust me?” 

     “With my life.” You stated firmly, but you didn’t know if the answer was for him or yourself. He smiled, his eyes softening at the mere sight of your body underneath his, the sheet long gone from both of your bodies. 

     “Good. I want to make sure you never forget me.” 

     “I don’t think that’s possible.” Your eyes stared holes into his face, the passion burning your veins and begging for him to touch you. Your skin tingled, blood red hot and buzzing with adrenaline when he took your wrists in his hands and began tying a knot. Once your wrists were bound together, he sat you up straight and gathered your luscious hair into a messy pony, wrapping the second piece of satin around the bundled up hair. Some strands fell back onto your face, but he did not seem to mind. He finally held the third piece in his hands, reaching behind your head and covering your eyes. 

     “Are you alright?” He inquired, goosebumps forming across your skin as you felt his breath ghost along your ear. “Is this okay?” 

     “Yes,” you confirmed, feeling your scorching blood running thickly through your body, acutely more aware of everything around you now that you had lost your vision. 

     “Good,” you felt his fingers ever so lightly brush along you, shoved after shiver rippling through your body, your core beginning to dampen the bedding underneath you. You felt his breath hovering over your lips, and you so desperately wanted him to close the small space that separated your lips from his. Like he read your mind, he nipped at your lower lip, his tongue quickly swiping over it and backing away as you tried chasing his lips with your own. A disgruntled groan left you, the frustration only building the more he did it. 

     “Please Hongjoong, ” You whined, feeling the tension in your abdomen twist every second he denied you the touch of his lips. You felt your core tingle as his hands traveled over your body, but never really touching you. But you could feel the energy from his palms vibrating every atom within you. You leaned forward and were met with nothing, a frustrated whine slipping from your lips. You heard him chuckle, and it wasn’t long before his lips were crashing into yours feverently. You had never wanted your hands to be free more than you did in this moment. You had not realized how deprived you would feel restrained under his strong hold on your wrists as his mouth consumed yours. You needed to card your fingers through his hair, you needed to feel his muscles under your fingertips, you needed to touch.

     “I want you…” He panted into your mouth, his length hardening against you as he subconsciously began to grind on you. “So. Bad.”

     “Take me, for I am yours.” You pleaded, against his rushed kisses, your tongues waltzing with one another as he deepened the kiss, his body pressing firmly into yours. “Only yours.” You sighed into his lips, and you heard a small moan leave his own.

     You felt him grab your wrists and bring your arms up over your head, the tie in your hair loosening and soon your hair fell around you as he removed the strip of satin. You could hear Hongjoong working above you, and soon felt his grip on you leave, but your arms were still suspended above you. Your abdomen swirled with excitement as you realized he had tied you to the iron bed frame to keep you in place. 

You shuddered when you felt his breath back on your skin, this time it was much, much lower than before. His hot breath was blowing against your clit, causing you to writhe at the immediate sensation. 

     “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to taste you on my tongue.” You felt his nose brush along the sensitive skin near your folds. It disappeared just as quickly as it had come, but not without a deep sigh leaving him first as he took in the very sight before him. Your trembling figure above him, your dripping cunt waiting to clench onto something, your throbbing clit wishing to be abused.

     “To devour you, is my most absolute desire in this world.” He growled against the inside of your thigh, lightly nipping his way towards your heat once more. He suddenly licked a stripe up your center, your back arching instantly as you felt the air being ripped straight from your lungs, a gasp falling from your lips. The moan that exited his lungs was feral, and was now something you craved to pull out of his chest. Again, and again, and again.

     “No wine, no champagne, nor any fruit could ever taste as delectably addictive than you do, my love.” He said as he licked his way around your sex, making sure every drop of arousal that dropped from your awaiting pussy was cleaned up before he made an even bigger mess of you. 

He reached up and pressed two fingers against your lips, encouraging you to allow him entrance into your mouth. You allowed it, your tongue obsessively coating his digits with your saliva, sucking hard and needy. You heard a groan come from him, his dick twitching in anticipation at the feeling of your mouth on his fingers. He pulled them out and dipped back down, slowly sliding them into your soaked cunt, your walls inviting him in. You couldn’t suppress the noises that begged to leave your mouth as he reached a hand up and pressed down against your stomach, pumping his fingers in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace. 

     “Hongjoong, I-I need it faster,” you panted and begged into the air, the itch to grab a fistful of his hair so strong in your fingertips it felt like an ache. At your request, his fingers plunged deeper and at a quicker pace, his fingers curling inside to feel the spongy wall he was looking for. 

     “I want to make you see stars brighter than the ones outside that window as you cum for me, pretty baby.” He confessed into your core as his tongue flicked against your clit, waiting for your release and the floodgates to open onto his awaiting tongue.

     “I can’t, I can’t hold on,” you jumbled, your eyes rolling behind the blindfold as you squeezed your hands together like you were in prayer. 

     “Let go, my love.” He cooed, his honey voice making you melt under his words. 

One.

Two.

Three.

     You counted the amount of flicks to your swollen bud and until you were gushing around him, your slick running down the base of his fingers, your back arching like your body was possessed, the desperate moans escaping you as you felt liquid hot and completely on fire, everything going numb and your body exploding like a shooting star under his touch, the pressure of his hand on your stomach becoming overwhelming as he pressed down.

     Your ears rang, you felt the earth spinning and you tried catching the stolen breath to return it to your lungs as you laid there, arms exhausted from hanging above you. 

     “We’re not done yet, darling.” He purred, coming up to you and removing your blindfold so you could watch him put his fingers into his mouth, slurping up the slick that had coated his hand. You felt another tug in your gut and the familiar warmth returned to your core as he used the rest of it to coat his dick and stroke his length lazily, his eyes blown out completely and hooded as they bore into your sparkling skin.

     “I need more,” you pleaded weakly, the emptiness your felt while your walls clenched at nothing, waiting for something to grip onto. “I need you. Please Hongjoong, I need you.” 

     “You have me, love. I’m right here.” He grabbed your arms and untied you from the iron, your wrists still bound together. He draped your arms around his neck before positioning you over his throbbing member. 

     “Now,” he held your hips firmly in place just above him. You could feel his leaking tip barely touch your entrance, a string of precum connecting to you. “take what you want from me.” He sucked your earlobe into his mouth, his teeth lightly grazing the cartilage as you sunk down onto his length. You did not need time to adjust to him, your heat consuming his length effortlessly. Your rigid walls sent a shiver down his spine, the shock of your sex tightly encasing him in a safe hug brought him to near tears as he released your lobe and tilted his head back, a guttural moan shamelessly slipping from between his swollen lips.

     Your lips found his adams apple, it vibrated under your touch as you began to bounce slowly on top of him, grinding your hips in a circular motion against him. The lewd sound of your skin smacking against one another, the squelching when his member was pulled completely out and thrusted right back into your hole, your slick pooling out of any available space it could. His hands gripped your hips as he guided you to rock back and forth, his face dipping down in between your bouncing breasts as you moved in rhythm with his heartbeat.

     His nails dug into the sensitive flesh of your hips as he bucked his hips upward to meet your thrusts. The pace you had set was much too slow for his liking, but he didn’t want this moment to end so soon, the warmth beginning to build up in his abdomen. As your hips rocked and your body shook with each jab his dick made into your spongy wall inside of you, a waterfall of gasps and moans poured from your lungs, the stars in the night sky filling your vision completely with their dazzling light. 

     “Baby, I’m cumming, I’m cumming,” he panted into your neck, his own whines and moans filling the space between you in the most beautifully erotic way. 

     “Hongjoong, I-oh,” As you both released everything you possibly could while flying through the galaxy behind your eyes, it was like a nebula of stars bursting inside of your chest, forming new constellations just for him. All the love you could ever imagine giving to someone was bursting at the seams and overflowing from your skin. It was all consuming, and you knew you would never recover from this. 

Hongjoong was your undoing.

     Satiated, he collapsed on top of you, all of his weight melting into your body as you laid there. His member softened inside your walls, still holding onto his member desperately as you were his body on top of you. You felt his hand slide up your arm and untie the satin that kept your wrists bound in place so you could finally relax the aching muscles against him. You finally were able to run your fingers through his damp hair, your lips planting themselves onto his temple as he laid there breathing heavily. 

     “I love you…so much.” Your voice broke, barely above a whisper, hot tears falling from your tired eyes as you took in the comforting citrus and bergamot you’d come so accustomed to over the summer. Now that autumn was here, you were sure you had fallen just as the leaves on the trees that laid beyond the walls you resided in had. It was inevitable, unavoidable, and almost felt fated. 

     “You’re everything to me,” he pressed his lips to your pulse point on your neck, lingering there as he took in your sweet scent and committed it to memory. 

“Everything.”

—

     Once the leaves darkened and began to fall from their branches, the air cooling and the days getting shorter, you knew it was time for Hongjoong to go back to the city. 

     “I’ll write to you,” he said, his warm hands taking yours and pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. The arriving carriage outside to take him was confirmation that your time with him was truly up.

     “I’ll tell you all about the fairytales I write, but only if you promise to write a song for me.” 

     “Oh my love,” he cupped your face, eyes softening with tears brimming and threatening to spill. “You’re my muse…the reason I will continue to write from every day on. Everything I do is all for you now.” 

     “Promise you’ll come back to me? Tell me this isn’t goodbye…” he brought you into his embrace, the autumn breeze sending a chill through you. His warmth surrounded you as his cheek pressed into the top of your head as he held you.

     “This isn’t goodbye…” He adorned a sad smile on his face as he tucked a strand of loose hair behind your ear. “Besides, how am I going to marry you if I never return?” 

     “What…?” You pulled back a little so his face came into view, your heart freezing over as his words embedded themselves into your soul.

     “Marry me.” It wasn’t a question, which sent your heart soaring through the clouds above. “When I come back, I want to take you away. We can travel the world, see the stars from anywhere you wish. Just as long as I’m with you.” He gulped, his eyes turning glassy at the sight of you.   “I can’t bear to live a life without you in it...So please, wait for me. I won’t be gone long.” 

     “Oh, Hongjoong…I-”

     “Do you trust me?” His eyes bore into yours, nothing but absolute infatuation and devotion swimming in his chestnut irises, erasing any doubt you had lingering in your heart. You closed your eyes and leaned back into him, allowing his embrace to tighten over you once more. You allowed your senses to fill with his intoxicating citrus and bergamot before a sigh fell from your lips.

“Always.”

—

     That evening, you sat by your window with fresh pages and a new pen in your lap, ready to finally write. As you replayed every memory, every touch, every whispered confession from this summer, you felt a sense of ease wash over you when you realized that you had now found your muse. 

     You took a sip of the tea you had made, placing the tea cup on the sill as you gazed up into the night sky. Even if he wasn’t with you, you sought comfort in the way you could feel in every bone in your body that you were under the same sky, illuminated by the same glittering stars. 

     As you found yourself humming the lullaby he played for you that one august morning after you had shared another sleepless night between his alabaster sheets, you lazily looked up at the stars above, chin resting on the palm of your hand as the fireflies danced for you like they did when Hongjoong was there. You felt the familiar tug you’d grown used to over the summer pull at the strings that held your heart in place. 

You couldn’t help but wonder he was looking up at the moon and thinking of you too. Another tug in your chest was felt as the thought floated around your headspace. A small smile formed across your features as you nuzzled deeper into the cushion on the sill, eyes filling with tears as your heart sang.

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One-Shots ->

○ Baby, I'm jealous |San&Wooyoung| +18, Smut, Angst Part 1 [7,5k] Part 2 [6,3k]

○ Maybe, in another life | Angst, Suggestive [10,2k]

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▪︎ Come back, please | Angst, fluff [14,3k]

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Stream Of Sin | +18, Smut, Angst [On going]

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♧ No one's Favorite |Angst [15,2k]

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♧ Wearing lingerie |+18, suggestive [1,3k]

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He watches you with the eerie stillness only a lynx hybrid could manage, his body motionless, ears angled forward, pupils stretched thin with focus. When he fixates on you, there’s nothing human in the way he stares. It’s predatory patience, the kind that settles deep in your spine and makes your instincts twitch. He doesn’t blink often. He doesn’t break eye contact. When he does, it feels deliberate, like he’s letting you breathe for just a moment.

You never hear him coming, not once. Lynxes move silently by nature, but Hongjoong takes it to an unnerving extreme. One second you’re alone, and the next his shadow is brushing yours. You feel the warmth of him before you ever hear a footstep. Sometimes you swear you sense his breath at the back of your neck in empty hallways, but when you turn, he’s down the corridor—watching, calm, tail twitching in slow arcs.

His tail gives away things he never says. When he’s irritated, it flicks with sharp, slicing motions. When someone gets too close to you, it stills completely—no sway, no twitch—just a frozen line of tension. And when you’re scared or overwhelmed, it wraps around your ankle lightly, guiding you backward toward him as if you belong in his shadow.

His ears pick up everything. You whisper to someone across the room? He hears it. You mutter under your breath? He responds to it. You cry quietly into a pillow? He appears at your bedroom door, eyes glowing faintly in the dark, saying he “heard you call.” Even when you insist you didn’t, he tilts his head, ears flicking as he murmurs, “But you did.” And you can’t tell if he means your voice or your heartbeat.

He smells emotions on you—fear, stress, embarrassment, even attraction. He’ll lean close, nose briefly brushing your hair or throat, inhaling like he’s reading a map only he understands. When he smells another hybrid or human on your skin, something primal shifts in him. He makes this low, rattling sound in his chest, almost a purr twisted into something darker. You feel it more than you hear it.

He hides in places he shouldn’t fit. Always above eye level, studying you from a vantage point you can’t defend against. Sometimes you only notice him because the air feels heavier, the hairs on your neck prickling at the sensation of being hunted softly, intimately.

His need to isolate you doesn’t come from words; it comes from instinct. Lynxes are solitary, and he treats you like the one exception to that rule—his chosen territory, his companion, his anchor. He doesn’t forbid you from leaving; he simply follows, always at a distance that’s close enough to touch. People feel the animal edge in him, the silent territorial pressure radiating off him, and they step back before anything happens. He never has to chase them off. He just exists, and they flee.

His “affection” is as unsettling as hi silence. He curls around you when you’re tired, heavy and warm, his body forming a cage of limbs and quiet breathing. His hands are gentle, but his claws sometimes slip out for a second—a reminder that he could grip harder, hold tighter, pin you without meaning to. Or maybe he does mean to. You can never tell.

He studies your patterns the way a lynx studies prey trails—meticulously, obsessively. He knows when you wake, when you get hungry, when your heart rate changes. He knows the sound of your footsteps from anyone else’s, the rhythm of your breathing, the subtle shifts in your scent. Sometimes he finishes sentences you haven’t said yet. Sometimes he answers questions you only thought.

To Hongjoong, love is understanding every part of you—even the parts you don’t show, even the parts you didn’t know existed. And if he has to bend your perception, rearrange your reality, and tighten the walls around you until he’s the only constant you have left… he doesn’t see anything wrong with that. He doesn’t believe he’s trapping you.

He believes he’s saving you. From the world. From others. From yourself.

seonghwa ♡ swan hybrid

Swan hybrids are supposed to be graceful, soft-spoken, gentle… and Seonghwa is all of these things. That’s what makes the way he obsesses over you so terrifying. His movements are fluid, elegant, practiced—nothing sudden, nothing loud. He approaches you like a drifting shadow over still water, gliding into your space without a sound. His wings fold neatly behind him, immaculate, pristine, yet impossibly large when he spreads them around you like a shelter… or a cage.

He watches you with serene, unreadable eyes. Swans have incredible peripheral vision, and Seonghwa uses it in ways that feel inhuman. Even when his face is turned away, you can feel his gaze tracking you, following your every shift. You never catch him off guard; you only catch the soft, peaceful smile he gives when he realizes you noticed him watching.

His affection is suffocating, but delivered so gently that it’s easy to mistake it for care. He fixes your clothes with careful fingers, smooths your hair behind your ear, and speaks in a low, soothing voice that makes your heartbeat slow whether you want it to or not. But beneath that softness is a strange insistence. He adjusts things that weren’t crooked, corrects things that weren’t messy, as if he’s shaping you into something perfect, symmetrical, his.

His wings are the biggest warning you never learn to interpret. When he’s pleased, they stay folded tight, pristine. When he’s anxious, they puff out slightly, making him appear larger. But when someone else gets too close to you, they rise in a massive, silent arc around you, pure white feathers forming a wall. It’s protective. It’s territorial. It’s possessive. And it’s absolute. The moment you’re encircled by them, the rest of the world disappears in a curtain of feathers and warmth.

Seonghwa’s jealousy isn’t loud. It’s soft, cold, and eerily polite. When someone else talks to you, he approaches with a graceful smile, placing a hand on your back as if checking on you. His voice stays gentle, but his wings shift just enough that the other person feels their breath hitch, an instinctive fear rising without knowing why. Swans are known for their silent aggression, and Seonghwa embodies that perfectly. He doesn’t threaten. He simply… exists closer than anyone else is comfortable with.

He listens to everything. Swans are sensitive to changes in tone, and Seonghwa can read your emotions even when you try to hide them. If your voice wavers, his head tilts sharply, eyes narrowing in concern. If you laugh at someone else’s joke, his posture stiffens, feathers ruffling with a tension he tries to hide. If you’re upset, he’s there instantly, wings wrapping around you in a warm, clean-smelling cocoon. You can’t move unless he allows it. And he holds you gently, firmly, whispering that he’ll always be there, that you never need anyone but him.

He isolates through comfort. Through kindness. Through elegance. He makes staying near him the easiest thing in the world. Meals prepared before you’re hungry. Blankets draped over your shoulders before you feel cold. A hand guiding you lightly, effortlessly, until moving away feels wrong, feels like breaking something soft and important. Swan mates are loyal to the point of obsession, and Seonghwa treats you as if you’re already his chosen bond.

He never raises his voice. Never loses his composure. Even when angry, his calm is worse than rage. His feathers puff out, his wings widen slightly, and his smile becomes too serene. You feel the shift in the room before you understand it. Something graceful becomes something dangerous.

To Seonghwa, you aren’t simply loved—you’re treasured, cherished, precious beyond reason. And swans are creatures that defend what’s theirs with unwavering devotion. He will shield you from everything, everyone, until you forget that you ever lived without the soft brush of feathers at your back and the constant warmth of his presence beside you.

To him, this isn’t obsession. It’s forever. Swan mates are lifelong, after all. And he’s already chosen you.

yunho ♡ great pyrenees hybrid

Great Pyrenees are bred to protect flocks through the night, silently watching, waiting, keeping predators away. Yunho embodies that instinct so deeply it twists into something unsettling. He’s warm, soft-spoken, affectionate—and impossibly vigilant. You’re not just someone he cares about. You’re his charge, his territory, his reason for existing. And he guards you with a calm intensity that feels like a weight behind every breath you take.

He’s always nearby. Not in an obvious way—he doesn’t hover or cling. He simply positions himself where he can always see you. Sitting against a wall with his big white tail curled around his side. Resting at your feet. Standing just behind you when you speak to someone else, silent but massive, a comforting presence to you but an intimidating wall to everyone else. When you move, his eyes track you automatically. When you leave a room, he follows without thinking.

Great Pyrenees dogs are known for patrolling at night, and Yunho does the same. You wake up sometimes to the faint sound of his claws tapping the floor in slow, steady circles as he quietly checks windows, doors, shadows. He stops outside your bedroom often, listening, making sure you’re asleep, safe. If you open the door, he freezes like he’s been caught doing something intimate, then smiles, warm and relieved, like your face was the only confirmation he needed.

His size is comforting and terrifying all at once. He wraps around you when you’re sad, pulling you into his chest with gentle hands that could easily pin you without effort. His tail curls around your legs when he cuddles you, heavy and warm. He doesn’t mean to restrict your movement—it just happens. Instinct. Protection. Possession disguised as comfort.

Nothing sets him off like you being afraid. Your scent changes, your heartbeat spikes, and his demeanor shifts instantly. Great Pyrenees don’t bark often; they rumble, a deep sound in their chest meant to warn predators. Yunho does the same. If someone scares you, even unintentionally, he steps between you and them with a quiet growl just under his breath, his body blocking yours completely. He doesn’t glare. He doesn’t threaten. He simply becomes a wall of fur and muscle until the danger “goes away.”

He’s not jealous in the same way the others are. He doesn’t get angry when someone else talks to you. He gets… distressed. Confused. His ears lower, his tail stiffens, and he watches you with this intense, heartbroken look like he doesn’t understand why you’d need anyone but him. Later he’ll sit beside you, voice soft and shaky, asking, “Did they treat you well? Do they make you feel safer than I do?” as if the idea physically hurts him.

He herds you without meaning to. A hand on your back subtly guiding you away from crowds. Standing in doorways so you can’t slip past without brushing against him. His tail nudging your leg whenever you drift too far. It’s instinctual—protect, guide, gather. But with you, it morphs into something obsessive, a constant need to keep you close enough to touch or at least reach.

He isolates you through warmth, not force. He brings you blankets, food, little gifts he finds, encourages you to rest against him when you’re stressed. His body heat alone is addictive; being away from him starts feeling cold, wrong. And he notices. He always notices. His smile when you choose to sit near him instead of anywhere else is soft, relieved, too devoted.

When threatened, he changes. Not toward you—never toward you—but toward anyone who tries to separate you from him. His voice drops to a deep, calm warning tone, his posture tall and immovable. The air around him becomes heavy, like something ancient and territorial has awakened. Great Pyrenees don’t attack unless necessary… but they don’t back down either. And Yunho sees anyone trying to take you away as a predator.

In his mind, you are the most important part of his world, the reason he stays awake through the night, the warmth he guards with his entire being. Losing you isn’t an option. Being away from you feels like failing his purpose. And failing his purpose is unthinkable.

yeosang ♡ snow leopard hybrid

His snow leopard instincts make him silent in a way that feels inhuman, he moves without sound, without warning, appearing in doorways and behind you with an expression that never fully reveals what he’s thinking.

His obsession is quiet but absolute, he watches you the same way a snow leopard watches prey on a cliffside—patient, calculating, waiting for the smallest shift in your behavior to tell him what to do next.

Yeosang rarely speaks his feelings out loud, instead he observes and stores every micro-reaction like data, memorizing the things that make you nervous, the things that soften you, and especially the things that pull your attention away from him.

His jealousy doesn’t come in outbursts—it comes in icy silence, unreadable eyes, and a sudden tightening of his presence around you, as if the temperature drops and you instinctively know you’ve crossed an invisible line.

He’s intensely territorial, his scent clinging to you, your clothes, your space, and he notices immediately when someone else’s scent lingers too long, a low growl rumbling through his chest even if he looks perfectly calm.

His possessiveness is subtle but suffocating. He corners you with stillness, with a gaze that doesn’t blink, with a quiet question spoken so softly you almost miss the threat woven under the gentleness.

Yeosang isn’t violent unless someone forces his hand, but when he gets rid of problems, he does it silently and efficiently, the same way a snow leopard handles a kill: fast, precise, leaving no trace.

With you, though, he’s gentle to the point of worship, brushing his cold nose against your cheek, curling his tail loosely around your leg, gripping your wrist with claws that never break skin but remind you he could.

He hates when you shut him out or try to hide emotions, and he will watch you until you crumble and open up. His stare is relentless, as if he’s dissecting your thoughts.

Yeosang doesn’t want to trap you physically, at least not at first, he traps you psychologically. He makes you believe he's the only one who understands you, the only one who listens, the only one who never leaves, until the idea of living without him feels dangerous.

Once he realizes you’re dependent, he becomes bolder: sleeping pressed against your side for warmth, curling around you with heavy limbs that feel like chains, purring softly in your ear to remind you you’re his.

And if you try to run? Snow leopards are built for high places, for tracking prey through impossible terrain—he’ll find you no matter where you go, and he’ll look heartbreakingly calm when he brings you back, saying you scared him, even though you are the one trembling.

san ♡ otter hybrid

Being an otter hybrid makes San naturally clingy, physically affectionate, and endlessly touch-driven, but when that affection turns yandere, his sweetness becomes suffocating and almost desperate. He follows you everywhere, not silently like a predator, but openly and cheerfully, acting like staying glued to your side from morning to night is completely normal. San thrives on physical contact—holding your hand, linking arms, resting his head on your shoulder—and when you pull away, his smile falters in a way that feels wrong, as if something fragile inside him cracks just a little.

His jealousy is immediate and emotional. He doesn’t hide it; instead he presses himself against you like he’s reclaiming you, staring down anyone who gets too close with wide, unblinking eyes. Otters are playful by nature, but San’s playfulness sometimes feels off, like he’s testing boundaries, tugging you closer than he needs to or laughing while he pins your wrists lightly under the excuse of a harmless game.

He hoards anything that smells like you—shirts, hair ties, pens you’ve chewed on—keeping them tucked into a little nest he builds in his room, a soft collection he curls around when you aren’t there. When he’s upset or insecure, he clings even harder, wrapping his arms around your waist and refusing to let go, nuzzling into your neck with a trembling whine. San is incredibly emotional; if he thinks he’s losing you, his eyes go glassy and panic floods his scent, his voice cracking as he begs you not to leave, promising he’ll be better, softer, anything you want.

But if begging doesn’t work, his mood can snap in an instant. Otters may look cute, but they’re fast and surprisingly strong, and his grip becomes unbreakable when he decides he’s not letting you walk away. He gets attached to routines with you—morning cuddles, shared snacks, evening walks—and he becomes distressed when anything disrupts them, clinging to you as if expecting you to vanish.

San’s protectiveness can be overwhelming. He positions himself between you and every perceived threat, baring his small but sharp otter teeth with a warning growl whenever someone raises their voice at you. He loves water and constantly wants you in it with him, clinging to you in the water with a soft purr-like rumble, his tail curling around your leg like an instinctive anchor.

Anyone who tries to take you away quickly learns otters aren’t harmless. San may be cute, but his loyalty is all-consuming, and his love comes with a frighteningly strong bite. With you, though, he’s pure warmth—wrapping around you like a living blanket, humming into your skin, convinced with his whole heart that he’s the only one who can keep you safe and happy.

mingi ♡ caracal hybrid

Mingi is a high-strung predator with a deceptively soft core. Being a caracal hybrid makes him naturally alert, reactive, and easily overstimulated, but when those instincts twist into yandere attachment, everything becomes magnified and unstable. He’s incredibly sensitive to your presence, your scent, your voice; even the smallest shift in your mood has his ears twitching, eyes narrowing, tail flicking in sharp, agitated swipes. Caracals are solitary predators, and Mingi’s obsession comes from that same instinct—he wants you as his, close and undisturbed, preferably somewhere only he can reach.

He follows you from a distance rather than at your side, stalking with the soundless precision of a wildcat. You often don’t notice him until he wants you to, appearing behind you with pupils blown wide and a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. When you talk to others, his ears go flat, his tail lashes, and his claws flex against his palms as he forces himself not to react too soon. He never interrupts, but the air around him grows heavy, tense, crackling with silent warning.

Mingi’s affection is intense and inconsistent. Some moments he’s shy, flustered, hiding his face against your shoulder with warm, rumbling purrs. Others, he’s gripping your hips a little too tightly and staring at you like he’s fighting an instinct to drag you somewhere safe and hidden. He doesn’t understand boundaries; caracals claim what they want, and in his mind, you already belong to him. When you pull away, he freezes like a startled animal, ears pinned back, eyes wide with hurt that quickly shifts into something darker.

His jealousy is explosive. Caracals are known for their powerful leaps and powerful tempers, and Mingi embodies both. If someone touches you, he reacts instantly—placing himself between you and them, shoulders squared, expression blank but dangerous. His voice drops low, almost a growl, asking why they’re near you in the first place. If they don’t back off, he will escalate without hesitation, and the only thing that pulls him back from real violence is your hand on his arm.

Mingi builds a nest-like space for the two of you, tucking blankets and soft things into a corner of his room and bringing you there whenever he’s overwhelmed. He curls around you protectively, his tail wrapping your thigh, his head pressed beneath your chin, purring like he’s trying to push his heartbeat into yours. He feels safest like this, where he can hear your breathing and feel your warmth, knowing no one else can steal you away.

He gets distressed when you try to leave, even for normal things. His ears flatten and his claws tug lightly at your clothes as he asks where you’re going, how long you’ll be gone, who’s going to be there. If you don’t reassure him properly, he’ll follow you anyway, shadowing you from rooftops, tree branches, alleyways—silent and unseen unless someone gets too close.

When pushed too far, Mingi becomes feral in his protectiveness. His speed and strength are frightening, and he has no hesitation about using them to eliminate threats. But with you, he stays gentle despite his size, touching you with soft paws, brushing his cheek against yours, whispering that he needs you, that you’re his home, that he can’t breathe right when you’re out of sight.

To him, you are the one bright, calm thing in a world that feels too loud and chaotic, and he will destroy anything that dares to pull you away from him.

wooyoung ♡ fox hybrid

As a fox hybrid, Wooyoung is naturally clever, perceptive, and mischievous, but when those traits become twisted by obsession, he turns into something far more dangerous than his playful exterior suggests. His fixation on you forms quickly and violently, like a spark catching dry grass. He notices everything—your habits, your weaknesses, your tells—and he uses that knowledge with a frightening level of precision. Wooyoung doesn’t stalk you in silence like a predator; he stalks you with intention, letting you catch glimpses of him on purpose, letting you know he’s always close enough to hear your heartbeat shift.

He masks his possessiveness behind flirtation and laughter, but there’s a sharpness in his smile, a glint in his eyes that warns you not to push him too far. When someone else gets your attention, he becomes mocking and cruel, leaning close to whisper something venomous about the person in question, twisting the truth until you start doubting your own judgment. Foxes are known for their cunning, and Wooyoung wields his instincts like a blade—subtle lies, calculated comments, small manipulations that slowly isolate you from others without you even realizing it.

His jealousy is vicious. He doesn’t tolerate being ignored, and he doesn’t hide the fact that he watches your every interaction. When another person stands too close, his tail bristles and his ears twitch with agitation, but he keeps smiling—an unsettling, predatory smile that promises consequences. Later, he’ll casually mention something unfortunate that happened to them, something that sounds like an accident but feels too perfectly timed to be coincidence. Wooyoung knows how to make threats sound like jokes, and how to make jokes feel like warnings.

With you, his mood swings are unpredictable. Sometimes he’s all warmth, curling around you with his fluffy tail wrapped tight around your waist, nuzzling into your throat with playful purrs. Other times, he’s cold and quiet, backing you against a wall with a soft laugh, asking why you’re pulling away, why you’re lying to him, why you’re making him feel like this. His voice stays light, but his eyes are dark, pupils blown wide with a mixture of hurt and something much more dangerous.

He loves taking small things from you—a necklace, a pen, an old shirtyou thought you lost—and keeping them hidden in what he calls his “den,” a private space filled with your scent. He’ll bring you there eventually, ushering you inside with a sweetness that feels fragile and terrifying at once, insisting you look at how much he loves you, how much he’s kept safe. He becomes especially affectionate when he feels threatened, clinging to you with trembling hands, nipping at your neck as he whispers that he can’t lose you, not after everything he’s done to keep you.

Wooyoung can be violent, but he’s never messy. Foxes kill quickly and hide their tracks well, and he follows the same pattern—efficient, quiet, and almost cheerful afterward, as if relieved that another obstacle is gone. Sometimes he comes home with the scent of blood faintly clinging to him, smiling as he crawls into your lap and asks you to hold him like nothing happened.

He genuinely believes no one will ever love you the way he does, and he’s determined to make sure no one gets the chance. To Wooyoung, loving you means consuming you, protecting you, and breaking anyone who tries to stand between you and him—including you, if he has to.

jongho ♡ panda hybrid

As a panda hybrid, Jongho is naturally gentle, quiet, and comforting to be around, but those qualities twist into something far more consuming once he becomes attached to you. His obsession grows slowly, steadily, the way pandas cling to their routines; he integrates you into every part of his life until your presence becomes something he depends on. He watches you with deep, steady eyes that feel less like he’s observing you and more like he’s memorizing you—every expression, every habit, every fleeting shift in mood tucked away like something precious.

Jongho isn’t jealous in loud or aggressive ways. Instead his jealousy is silent, heavy, and painfully earnest. When someone else gets too close, his ears droop and his expression softens in a way that looks heartbreakingly sad, like he’s wondering why they get pieces of you he hasn’t earned yet. That sadness quickly turns into quiet determination; he’ll gently insert himself between you and the other person, guiding you away with a soft touch on your back, never raising his voice or losing his composure, just subtly pulling you back to where he believes you belong.

He’s deeply affectionate, but not pushy. He hovers more than he clings, staying near enough to touch but waiting for you to lean into him first. When you do, he melts—wrapping his large arms around you, pressing his forehead to yours, holding you like you’re something delicate and irreplaceable. His hugs last a little too long, his hands tremble when you pull away, and his scent shifts from warm bamboo to something anxious when he worries you’re slipping out of reach.

Jongho builds routines around you without even realizing it. He waits for you in the mornings, walks beside you without being asked, brings you food because he noticed you forgot to eat, and quietly rearranges his schedule to match yours. If you change a routine, he becomes unsettled, his ears tilting back, his voice soft and hesitant as he asks if he did something wrong. He needs reassurance, small words or touches that anchor him, and once you give them, he relaxes instantly, smiling with a sweetness that makes your chest ache.

His possessiveness is gentle, but it’s still overwhelming. He doesn’t forbid you from seeing others, but he becomes clingier afterward—holding your hand for longer than usual, leaning his head on your shoulder, whispering in a small, earnest voice that he likes it best when you’re with him. He gives you gifts constantly, things he made with his own hands or things he carried home just because they reminded him of you.

Violence doesn’t come naturally to him, and he avoids it unless he has absolutely no choice. Even then, he acts out of fear rather than rage—a trembling, desperate need to protect you from anything that could hurt you. He doesn’t brag about what he’s done; if someone pushes him too far, he becomes eerily quiet afterward, sitting beside you with his head in your lap, craving comfort like he’s afraid of what you’ll think.

Jongho’s obsession is rooted in devotion. He wants to earn your love, not force it. But he’s also terrified of losing you, and that fear shapes everything he does. He yearns for you constantly, even when you’re right beside him, loving you with the slow, overwhelming weight of someone who feels things too deeply for his own good. And though he would never intentionally hurt you, he also can’t imagine a future where you’re not his—softly, quietly, inevitably.