#jongho au

Besides you, there were seven others living there. All of you got along surprisingly well, and the last two years have been great. No drama, no real fights, no boundaries being crossed. Everyone respected each other, and honestly, that was part of what made living there so easy.

You also liked that Seonghwa lived there too.

He’d quickly become a father figure to all of you, always making sure everyone was taken care of, always checking in, always somehow knowing when the fridge needed to be restocked. You almost never had to worry about what to eat.

And, not to mention… he was kind of a party animal himself.

Tonight, the house was full. Music blasted through the built-in speaker system, bass vibrating through the walls. Drinks were being shot back in the kitchen, a few people were in the pool, others crowded around the billiards table.

You, your roommates, and a couple of friends sat in a loose circle on the floor, an empty beer bottle resting in the center.

Truth or dare, spin the bottle edition.

You were probably the happiest person there, considering you’d spent most of the night making the boys kiss each other.

Easily the best part.

But when the bottle finally landed on you and you asked for a dare, the energy shifted.

You were dared to play seven minutes in heaven with whoever the bottle landed on when you spun it.

Suddenly, you weren’t laughing.

Everyone in the circle was painfully attractive, and you’d never say it out loud, but you’d definitely fantasized about almost all of them at some point.

…Including Seonghwa.

So, with a deep breath you reached forward and spun the bottle and bit down on your lip as you anxiously watched the bottle spin. 

And when it finally came to a stop, the bottle had landed on…

Who does the bottle land on?

(Click on the images below and if that doesn't work there's a link below each image)

Hongjoong (Uploaded on 01/28/26)

Seonghwa (Uploaded on 01/29/26)

Yunho (Coming Soon)

Yeosang (Uploaded on 05/05/2026)

San (Coming Soon)

Mingi (Uploaded on 5/25/26)

Wooyoung (Uploaded on 02/01/26)

The music really added to the ambiance of the night to come. The ritual of getting ready for a night out with friends is sacred when you want to look your best, and who cares if people think it’s selfish or arrogant. Looking good can equal to feeling even better and that’s the emotional confidence everyone should strive toward. However, with the music playing softly in the background, and my dark red tone outfit with matching gold accessories hanging on the closet door waiting for me, tonight felt like the night to remind myself and everyone "i am Latina and im proud of who i am".

But raking my brush through my sopping wet hair, water all over an old pajama top thrown on after the shower, curl cream and leave-in conditioner covering my hands and bathroom vanity, it began to feel like an over-stimulation nightmare. "Ugh! This is about to piss me off it it comes out bad" I half yell and grunt to myself, looking in the bathroom mirror, scrunching my hair to high heavens. My straightener, conveniently in the top drawer, right where i left it last almost 4 months ago. "Why are we yelling?" Jongho comes up to the bathroom door, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed and eyebrows raised in curiosity. "It’s time to dry this, and if it doesn’t come out how i wanted, i’m killing them and burning these curls again before i lose my mind" exasperated didn’t even begin to explain my voice, even though i know he didn’t deserve it, I can’t help it sometimes, "I’m sorry, I’m just frustrated to the max, and I just want to feel pretty tonight". Jongho doesn’t verbally reply, but he never has to. His body language and actions alone makes up for what he doesn’t say.

It reminds me of why i fell for him in the first place. Small token actions that would make my heart race every time. Some might call it the classic ‘opposites attract’ trope and wooyoung certainly pointed it out plenty for us. I was the loud mutual friend, drinking with the group, starting the party even if i had to dance solo, singing my heart out at karaoke nights, even if i knew jongho was going to wipe the competition out with his singing. And he was the subtle, silent, protector type almost. In a friend group outing i’d find myself drifting to sit next to him, and his arm naturally resting behind me on the back of my seat. Laughing at a joke mingi told animatedly, leaning back in my seat and finding the warmth of his body closer than i realized, "oh, sorry" leaning forward again, trying to brush off the faint blush on my cheeks, whether it was from the drinks or jongho, i’ll never tell him. "No, it’s okay, you can rest" he gently whispered while maintaining eye contact with a soft smile. Whether my brain made it up or not, i swear then, his eyes were like big brown sparkly diamonds. "Oh, thanks" i replied just as softly, afraid if i said anything else, i’d say too much. Reassured, i turned back around and leaned into his side, tuning back into the ongoing conversation that had vanished when he had spoken to me so softly and warmly.

People say drunk minds say sober thoughts, for me it showed through actions. I found myself nuzzling back softly into his side, feeling too warm yet too cold, i couldn’t decide, but jongho felt so warm, snd sturdy i couldn’t help myself. I shifted and crossed my legs towards his accidentally bumping his leg. I was about to apologize until my breath caught, his left free hand gently and slowly grabs my calf and holds it on his lap. Giving me plenty of time to retract if i wanted, but instead i shift and pull both my legs up onto his lap. His hand doesn’t hesitate to pull both my legs onto his lap, hooked over his right thigh, leaving his warm hand on my knee. Tipsy myself, i lean farther into him and nuzzle softly onto his shoulder already feeling warm and sleepy. "Woah she’s getting real comfortable with you huh" i didn’t even need to look to know Jongho had sent the member a pointed glare as they mumbled an accusing ‘my bad’ right after. At this point, i couldn’t care less who was watching, my unrestrained arm wraps around jongho’s waist as i shift my cuddling to his neck instead. "What’s gotten into you y/n?" Jongho whispers softly into my ear, i manage to look up at him as he softly raises his hand to tuck my hair behind my ear, were jongho’s eyes always this pretty? And when did he smell so good? He chuckles, vibrating his chest. "pretty, i appreciate it, but i could say the same about you". My eyes shoot open, "did i say that out loud?", he nods, leaning down to my ear, "let me take you home, pretty girl, you’ve had plenty tonight," and with a slight and nod and a smile, it started a path i never thought i’d be on.

The edge was steep, served as protection barely a breath off the coast, shrouded in mist and myth. No one lived there. No one dared. But you did.

A lonesome siren remains stuck, not by choice, but by consequence. Their voice, once sweet and reckless, had long since soured into something mournful.

Forever 23. That was the age they left them, hollowed out and discarded. You had trusted too easily, loved too loudly. Men had taken your softness and carved it into something sharp. You sought comfort in the wrong arms, those no good for you, mistaking cruelty for care. 

When you finally broke, the sea took you in.

It’s said they met a sailor…A Pirate, in the 13th century. He was charming and drawn to you like a moth to flame. And you? Yuoi were bratty and naive, insolent in your charm, and far too trusting. He promised you escape and you believed him.

Eventually he’d never made it back to shore.

Now, you wait. Not for love. Not for rescue. But for the next fool who thinks they can save you. The island remains quiet, save for the wind and the occasional whisper of a song, one that speaks of betrayal, heartbreak, of longing, and a soul who was never saved.

Visitors don’t come often. Those who do are never seen again.

But is that really how the story goes?

The inn was cloaked in amber candlelight and thick incense, a poor disguise for the sour stench of spilled ale and sailors who hadn’t bathed since the last port. You stood behind the bar, waiting, for patrons to beckon the usual: “more drinks!” followed by crude gestures, slurred flirtations, men starved of softness after months at sea. Desperation made them bold. And unbearable.

You’d learned to endure. Survival meant smiling when you didn’t want to, serving drinks to hands that lingered too long, brushing off words that crawled across your skin. You were good at it. Too good.

“Excuse me, miss” came a voice behind you, low, clear, and startlingly polite.

You turned, arms full of empty glasses, and forced the usual grin. “Evening, sir. What can I get you on this fine night?”

“A glass of your finest mead” he said, with a nod that held no trace of mockery.

You blinked. No one spoke to you like that here. Never with an ounce of respect, because it’s not like you mattered.

Your smile softened, real this time. “Coming up.”

He noticed.

As you walked back to the bar, something shifted, you felt like you were being watched. It’s not like you weren’t used to being watched, but this gaze was different. It burned. It pressed against your spine, made your knees falter, you almost had to grip the edge of the counter to steady yourself. You knew it was him, but you couldn’t prove it.

Pouring the drink, you stole a glance.

He sat alone, posture relaxed but alert. His linen shirt clung to broad shoulders, sleeves rolled to reveal forearms that looked carved from stone. A doublet lay folded beside him. His trousers were tailored, finer than anything worn in this place, structured and clean. And his eyes… deep brown, warm and unreadable. They held stories, unimaginable stories for someone like you. Not the kind told over drinks, but the kind whispered in the dark, behind locked doors.

You handed him the mead, fingers brushing his for a moment too long.

“Thank you” he said, voice like velvet.

You nodded, heart thudding. What a beautiful stranger.

The days bled together, the same thread of routine. But now, there was a face you knew. He came every night and sat in same seat. Sometimes he arrived with others, men dressed like him in tailored linen and quiet confidence. Other nights, he was alone again, and he never left until closing.

You’d never seen him before that first night. Patrons came and went, faces blurred into one another. But he stood out. You needed to know why.

“What brings you here?” you asked, voice flat as you placed his ale down, harder than usual.

He blinked, startled. “Pardon?”

“I’d never seen you before. Then suddenly you’re here every night for a week.” It wasn’t meant to sound accusatory, just honest. Curiosity had a way of slipping past your guard.

He tilted his head. “Care to sit with me? If you’ve got a moment.”

You hesitated, then nodded. “Give me one moment.”

You crossed the room to, headed towards the madame, weaving through the haze of pipe smoke and sweat. “Madam, that gentleman wants to talk with me. I’m sure he’ll buy more drinks if I keep him company.”

She glanced over, eyes narrowing. Then, something flickered behind them…gold and silver, like coins catching firelight. “Fine. Keep him here. Keep him drinking.”

Your chest bloomed with pride and excitement.

“As you wish.”

You returned with a fresh ale, heart thudding.

“I can spare a few moments” you said, sliding into the seat beside him. “But you’ll have to keep the drinks coming.”

“Fair trade for time with a beautiful lady.” he said, flashing a grin that should’ve felt sleazy. But it didn’t. It felt dangerous.

You adjusted your skirt, settling in. The candle between you flickered violently, as if reacting to something unseen. “What brings you here then?” you asked, wasting no time.

“Eager, I see.”

You nodded.

He leaned back, eyes dark and unreadable. “I’m not planning to stay. I’m here for… business.” The pause was deliberate. Heavy.

“What kind of business?”

His laugh was low. His gaze shifted and the warmth you’d felt from him vanished. In its place was something colder, it wrapped around your ribs and squeezed, winding you.

You liked it.

“now that’s none of your concern darling” he took a slow sip of his ale, eyes locked on yours over the rim of the cup. The candle between you flickered again, casting shadows that danced across his face.

He didn’t need to say it. You knew. His answer was enough to confirm a small suspicion.

Pirate.

Not the kind that stumbled in drunk and boastful, slurring tales of sea monsters and stolen gold. No, he wore it differently. Quiet. Controlled. Like the title wasn’t a badge, but a blade tucked beneath his sleeve.

He watched you, waiting for the push, but it didn’t come.

“You think you’re the first pirate to waltz in here?” you scoffed, leaning back. “I had a hunch but couldn’t prove it. Your type all have the same look, like the world owes you something.”

That made him laugh, a real one this time. Rich and warm but still edged with something dangerous.

It should’ve scared you but it didn’t.

“You’re mouthy.” he said, amused.

“You’re secretive.” you shot back.

He tilted his head, considering you.

You shrugged. “I’m bored. Tell me more” you ponder for a second. “You have a boat right? What does it look like?”

He smirked. “You’re dangerous when you’re bored.” You didn’t deny it. He continued “Wouldn’t be a pirate without a ship, darling,” he said, voice low and proud. “She’s a beauty, dark oak wood, obsidian features.”

“Wow, sounds amazing!” you said, your smile wide and genuine. “The feeling of the ocean must be incredible! The breeze, the motion…” You trailed off, already lost in the daydream. The idea of being on a boat, letting the current take you wherever it pleased.

Jongho tilted his head. “Never been out to sea?”

You looked confused for a moment, then shook your head. “No.”

“Not even on a fishing boat? You live in a port town.” His brow furrowed, perplexed.

You shook your head again. “Never had the opportunity. Nobody’s ever asked.” You paused, then added quietly, “I didn’t have much growing up. Just my mother and I. She worked in a tailor shop, did everything she could to keep us afloat.”

He blinked, then gave a soft whistle. “Such a shame. A beautiful lady like you deserves to see the sea.”

You blushed, warmth blooming in your cheeks.

“So what’s life like at sea then?” you asked, leaning in, eager. You wanted to know what freedom sounded like and maybe one day, feel it too.

Jongho smiled, sensing your curiosity. He began to speak, painting vivid pictures with his words: the rhythm of ship life, the camaraderie of the crew, those same men who’d been with him at the inn. He told you how the nausea fades after enough storms, how your legs learn to sway with the deck, and how heavenly the sun feels when you’re surrounded by nothing but sea breeze and sky.

You listened, eyes wide, heart open.

Then he paused.

His gaze lingered on you, studying your face like a map he couldn’t quite read. “You’re not like the others.” he said softly.

You looked up at him, eyes shining, like a child being told bedtime stories of brave pirates sailing the seven seas. People usually feared him. He was in awe.

But beneath that awe, something else stirred.

A flicker of possession.

A quiet, selfish want.

He wasn’t just admiring you.

He was imagining keeping you.

“No” you agreed. “I’m not.”

The candle burned low between you, wax pooling like blood. The inn buzzed around you, but it felt distant, like the two of you were sitting in a pocket of time, untouched.

He was dangerous. You were an insolent brat. And something was beginning to stir. Something close to ruin.

It had been months since you last saw him.

The handsome stranger with the quiet eyes. Your conversation, which was brief, replayed in your mind more often than you cared to admit. You hadn’t even gotten his name.

Pirates never stayed. There was always something shinier to chase, somewhere bloodier to be, somewhere else to conquer. You knew that. Everyone in a port town did. But still, you looked. Every night, your eyes drifted to the seat he once claimed like it belonged to him. Someone else sat there now. They were loud, greedy, disgusting. He laughed too hard, drank too fast, and tried to flirt with you like you were a prize to win. You ignored him. But the sight of him in that seat, made something twist in your chest.

You hated that he was gone. Hated that he’d left without a word. Hated that he’d taken up space in your thoughts and then vanished like mist.

But most of all, you hated that you missed him.

You moved through your shifts like a ghost, smiling when you had to, biting back the urge to scream when the sailors got too handsy. You were restless. Like something inside you was clawing to get out.

You wanted more. From everything.

And maybe, just maybe, you’d find a way to take it.

Tonight’s shift was slow, monotonous, until you heard faint chatter amongst some of the older, kinder finishing gentlemen. A rumour came in quietly, folded between drunken boasts and half-lucid ramblings. A ship had docked at the far end of the port. Said to be a ship sleek and dark, and unlike the usual battered vessels that limped into town. No name. No flag. Just whispers.

You didn’t react. Not outwardly.

But that night, you left the inn early. Told the madame you had errands. She didn’t ask questions, she never did when your eyes looked like that. You had an itch and you were going to scratch it.

It wasn’t desperation. Not exactly. Just curiosity, a need to know. You told yourself it was casual. You were just checking. Just walking past the docks to see if the sea had spit him back out.

The port was quiet, the air thick with salt and smoke. Lanterns swung gently in the breeze, casting golden halos across the mossy cobblestones. You moved like you had a purpose, but not a destination. Just a hope. Feeling brave because you had a knife tucked into your boots.

And then you saw it.

Moored at the edge of the harbour, half-shrouded in mist, was a ship that didn’t belong. Its hull was polished obsidian and dark oak, catching the moonlight like a blade. The sails were furled, but the rigging was taut, precise. No drunken crew loitered on deck. No shouting. No music. Just silence.

You stopped.

Something in your chest tightened. Recognition.

You didn’t see him. Not yet. But the ship was enough.

You stepped closer, boots echoing against the stone. A figure moved on deck, too far to make out. That same cold heat winding around your ribs returned.

Then the urge to climb aboard took over.

The dock groaned beneath your boots as you stepped closer, each footfall swallowed by the hush of the harbour. The sounds of waves crashing calmed the nerves you began to feel. The ship loomed above you. No name etched into the wood. No welcome offered.

You hesitated at the gangplank.

This was foolish. Reckless. You knew that. Ships like this didn’t take kindly to uninvited guests, but the rush that he could be aboard was thrilling enough to make you shake those thoughts. You took a step onto the plank, and you let your heart take you the rest of the way. Maybe you could hide somewhere below deck and wait for them to set sail. You started to hope they’d keep you on board…finally experience the sea. Your brain was running wild with possibilities, of adventure and new experiences, and that was all the encouragement you needed.

The wood was damp, slick with salt. Every step felt louder than it should have. You half expected someone to shout, to drag you back down, but the deck was quiet. Not empty, you could feel eyes on you, but no one moved.

The ship was immaculate. Ropes coiled with precision, sails furled tight, the scent of oil and iron lingering in the air. This wasn’t a vessel cobbled together by thieves. It was curated. Controlled.

You stepped onto the deck, heart hammering.

A man stood at the helm, back turned. Broad shoulders, dark hair tousled by the wind. He didn’t move. 

You swallowed, suddenly aware of how out of place you were, your worn skirt, your trembling hands, your foolish hope. But you didn’t turn back.

“Take a wrong turn?” he said, turning to face you, voice low and laced with something sharp. “You shouldn’t be here, little lady.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a warning.

“I-I’m sorry, I just… I don’t know.” you stammered, the words crumbling as they left your mouth, your hands white knuckle gripping your skirt.

His eyes were unreadable, but they held no softness. “You don’t know?” he repeated, stepping closer. “Then let me help you. This ship isn’t for wandering little girls with shaky hands and curious eyes.”

You flinched but held your ground.

“I was looking for someone!” you managed, voice barely above a whisper.

He stopped inches from you, gaze heavy, unreadable. The mist curled around his shoulders like a cloak.

“And you thought climbing aboard a ship like this was the way to find them?”

You nodded, breath shallow. “The last time I saw him he described this ship.”

He studied you for a long moment, then tilted his head. “I recognise you. The girl from the Inn?” he laughs, half in disbelief.

Another nod. You remembered him too, this man had come in with the handsome Pirate and the others, boots heavy with salt, eyes sharp. You’d watched them from across the room, laughter spilling from their table. 

“You’re either brave or stupid.”

“Both.” you said, voice steadier now.

The crew gathered slowly, drawn by the tension. Then you saw him, his big brown eyes wide with shock. “You..I didn’t think I’d see you again” he said. Something in his tone was off.

“I didn’t think I’d want to” you replied. “But here I am.” You paused, unsure if what you were going to say next was incredibly stupid or a way out. “I want to see the sea” you said with pleading eyes. “and I didn’t even get your name.” you blushed sightly.

“Absolutely not.” A tall man said, he was leaning against a pole, next to him stood a taller man.

“She’s not crew.” A beautiful blonde man said.

“She’s not threat.” A muscular man replied, closing some distance between the both of you, as if he was evaluating you.

“She’s clearly desperate.”

 “She works. She stays. She slacks, she swims.” This was clearly the captain, the man who had confronted you when you climbed aboard. His gaze didn’t waver.

You swallowed hard. Trying to contain the excitement bubbling inside you “I’ll work. I’ll earn it.”

So that was that.

They introduced themselves one by one, each name landing with the weight of something ancient and unspoken. The man who first addressed you, Hongjoong. Now stood at the helm, arms crossed, gaze sharp, watching everything without a word. He didn’t move. He didn’t blink.

Wooyoung and San leaned against the mast, smirking, their eyes flicking over you like they were sizing up a storm. Seonghwa’s eyes narrowed, calculating. Mingi and Yunho exchanged a glance, neither of them particularly phased by your presence. Yeosang said nothing at all, his silence louder than the wind.

And then, finally, Jongho stepped forward.

His expression was unreadable, cold. You felt the weight of every footstep he took toward you, and for a moment, you wondered if you’d crossed a line, if stepping aboard had been a mistake.

“Welcome aboard, pretty lady,” he said, voice smooth, warm enough to melt every doubt that had crept into your chest.

They didn’t welcome you. But they didn’t throw you overboard either.

You scrubbed the deck until your knuckles split. Hauled ropes until your arms burned. Learned the rhythm of the ship, the moods of the crew. They watched you with suspicion, but slowly, it softened. A nod here. A shared drink there. A quiet word when the sea turned cruel.

Jongho kept his distance at first, but he did watch. Then suddenly there was a shift, He started helping you tie knots. Showed you how to read the wind. One night, when the rain lashed the deck and the cold bit deep, he handed you a blanket without a word.

You started to feel a spark begin to ignite within you. The glances lasted longer, you even began sneaking away together to have quiet conversations below deck. He made you feel safe, it felt like he cared.

And after one particular rowdy night on deck, after a feast fit for a king and enough ale to knock out even the most seasoned drinker. His hands found yours in the dark. His mouth traced your skin like he was memorising it. You whispered secrets into his chest. He had held you like he meant it.

You let yourself believe you were safe.

And the ship sailed on.

One evening, the sun beating down on the deck, warm and golden, casting long shadows across the polished wood. You stood watching the sea, taking in it’s sparkling surface, it was calm, stretching out like glass, the kind of rare stillness that made you forget storms ever existed. You leaned against the railing, eyes closed, letting the breeze kiss your skin. Salt clung to your lips. Behind you, footsteps approached, measured, familiar.

Jongho.

He stopped beside you, arms folded, gaze fixed on the horizon. For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Then, softly, he said “You ever think about what it’d be like to never go back?”

You opened your eyes. “To land?”

He nodded. “To anything. No rules. No chains.”

You smiled, cautious. “ To truly be free” you let out a soft hum.

He turned to you then, eyes catching the light. “I want you to have it. Freedom, with me.”

Your heart stuttered. “You mean that?”

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.” He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your cheek. “You belong here. You’re not like them.” 

You laughed, but it came out hollow. “You barely know me.”

“I know enough.” he said, voice low.  You looked away, suddenly uneasy.

Something in his tone made your stomach twist. You chose to ignore it. You craved him. You wanted to be by his side.

Still, the words lingered. He hadn’t said with us. He’d said with me.

You glanced at the crew scattered across the deck. San adjusting the sails, Seonghwa cleaning his blade, Wooyoung laughing with Mingi. None of them looked your way. None of them smiled.

You were here. But not one of them.

It was suddenly, painfully clear.

But again, you chose to ignore it. Your heart was too forgiving. Too hopeful.

Jongho stepped closer, his hand resting lightly on your hip. “You don’t need anyone else.” he murmured. “I’ll take care of you.”

The breeze shifted. The sea darkened, just slightly.

You nodded, forcing a smile. “Okay.”

He kissed your temple, soft and possessive.

Hongjoong laid the papers across the table. Maps, letters, and peacekeeping documents. He ran a hand through his hair, visibly agitated.

“The nerve of these neanderthals to ask for a peace treaty.” he muttered, jaw tight. “Afraid of becoming a target, so they pull this bullshit.”

Seonghwa leaned over the large wooden table, the document, assessing the situation. “They want access to the left passage. But why? There’s nothing there.”

“Exactly!” Hongjoong snapped. “Either they know something we don’t. Which I doubt. Or they’re just stupid.” He let out a sharp exhale of breath. “a fucking peace treaty with terms and fucking conditions.” He said almost to himself. He dropped into his chair with a sigh, the wood groaning beneath him.

“We can grant them access to the left passage, no problem.” he continued. “In return, we get a hefty payment and fewer headaches in the western quarter.”

He then added, a little too casually “And as a gesture of good faith… they can have the girl. Show them we’re serious.”

Mingi, lounging nearby, nodded. “I like your thinking, Captain.”

Jongho’s head snapped up, eyes narrowing. “What do you mean, get the girl?”

Hongjoong didn’t flinch. “As much as we don’t need this treaty, Jongho, it’s leverage. If they spread word that we’re cooperative, we gain leads, influence. It’s mutually beneficial. We’re not doing this out of weakness or for less bloodshed”

“She’s not part of this” Jongho said, voice low.

“She’s not crew.” Seonghwa added, matter of fact. “She’s a guest. Temporary.”

Jongho’s fists clenched at his sides. “She trusted us.”

Hongjoong leaned forward, eyes sharp. “She trusted you. That’s not the same thing.”

The room fell silent.

Outside, the sea whispered against the hull, as if it already knew what was coming.

Months passed, and everything began to feel normal. You formed relationships with the crew, friendly, fulfilling. It seemed like they finally saw you as one of their own. You learned new skills, discovered secrets, even began gossiping with the others over late night watches and shared meals.

Everything felt right.

But beneath it all, a quiet dread stirred. A small seed in the pit of your stomach, sown and beginning to grow.

You didn’t know what it would become.

Later that night the sky was bruised with storm clouds when they led you to the dock of an unknown destination.

You didn’t understand at first. You thought it could possibly be a supply run. You walked beside Jongho, your fingers brushing his, heart steady in your chest. The crew was quiet. Too quiet.

Then you saw them.

The enemy ship. You recognised them from a bloody encounter from a while back. Black sails. Rusted steel. Men with cruel eyes and hands that twitched near their weapons.

You stopped walking. Digging your heels into the ground. “What is this?” you asked, voice tight, feeling your throat start to sting.

Jongho didn’t look at you, but he did take the time to shove you forward. Now you were stood between the two crews,eyes darting around paranoid and terrified.

Hongjoong stepped forward, his expression carved from stone. “A treaty” he said.

Your stomach dropped. “And I’m the offering?”

No one answered.

You turned to Jongho, eyes wide. “Tell me this isn’t happening.”

He swallowed hard. “It’s just until things settle. You’ll be safe.” Liar. You thought

“Safe?” you spat. “With them?”

He didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just stared at the boards beneath his feet like they held answers.

“You promised me freedom.” you whispered. “You said I belonged here.”

“I didn’t have a choice.” he said, voice barely audible.

You laughed, bitter and broken. “You had a choice. You just didn’t choose me.”

The enemy captain stepped forward, grinning. “We’ll take good care of them. Right guys!” cheers erupted from the other clan. Your stomach clenched.

You felt the hands then, rough, unkind and grabbing your arms too tightly, pulling you toward the ship. You kicked, screamed, fought, digging your nails into the man’s arm, nails piercing the skin, scratching like hell. Your nails now covered in blood. Everyone watched you, tears streaking your cheeks, the weight of every wrong decision pressing down on your chest.

No one stopped them.

Jongho didn’t move.

You locked eyes with him one last time. “I hope the sea swallows you whole.” 

And then you were gone.

Dragged aboard a ship that smelled of blood and rot. Thrown into a cell. Stripped of dignity. Used. Bruised. Broken.

But not forgotten.

Because the sea remembered.

And soon, it would answer.

Once you were dragged aboard, they led you down a narrow staircase, the air growing colder with each step. The light dimmed, swallowed by shadows, lit only by oil lamps that flickered against damp wood and rusted iron. At the bottom, a small cell stood waiting, Iron bars framing a straw-lined floor, a single chain bolted to the wall like a threat. The walls dripped with condensation and the scent of mildew thick in the air.

This was now your home. No words were spoken. No explanation given. Just the sound of the lock clicking shut behind you, sealing your fate in silence.

Your time on that ship broke you. Bruises bloomed across your skin, fingerprints etched into your thighs, your arms, your face. They grabbed you like property, whispered filth into your ears, made you a slave to their whims. You became frail. Hollow. A ghost in your own body.

But you held on.

You told yourself it was temporary. That Jongho would come. That the crew who laughed with you, drank with you, touched you like you mattered. would fight for you.

They didn’t. You realised the last few months with them was nothing more than a show, a facade. You went to be sick, but your body was filled with nothing.

You were traded like coin. Left in the arms of enemies who saw you as nothing more than leverage. Jongho didn’t fight. He didn’t scream. He didn’t come.

So you stopped waiting.

You became hostile. Violent. You spat in their faces, clawed at their throats, shattered plates and bones alike. You refused to play house with criminals. You refused to be soft. They didn’t like that.

After an altercation with a crew member, his breath sour, his hands rough. You were left lifeless on the deck. Blood in your mouth and salt in your lungs. You had fought like hell. But it wasn’t enough.

They tossed your body overboard near a jagged island, thinking the sea would finish what they started. But the ocean didn’t devour you, it cradled you.

The waves wrapped around your broken form, pulled you into the deep, sheltered you from the rage above. And there, in the dark, something stirred. The sea stitched you back together, not with flesh but with fury. Scales shimmered where skin once bled. Your voice became a weapon. Your eyes, a curse. A siren.

You didn’t rise from the water. You became it.

The ocean didn’t just mend your wounds, it built you back up, bone by bone. Breath by breath. It filled your lungs with salt and song, replaced your heartbeat with the rhythm of the tide. You were no longer a human who had been betrayed. You were vengeance incarnate.

Your skin shimmered beneath the moonlight, kissed by scales and shadow. Your voice, once soft and pleading, now carried the weight of storms. It could lull a man to sleep or drag him screaming into the abyss. You learned the language of the deep. The whispers of drowned sailors. The lullabies of forgotten wrecks. The sea taught you how to hunt. How to haunt. How to sing.

You sang for every bruise. Every stolen breath. Every promise broken beneath deck sheets and moonlit lies.

Then you took action. Ships began to vanish. First the men who took your life, you made it slow, painful and taunting. Next men who sought pleasure in port towns never returned. Their vessels found days later. Stories of your actions started to spread like wildfire.

You found HIM years later, his ship cutting through familiar waters, bold and unaware. He stood at the bow, wind in his hair, eyes scanning the horizon. Still as beautiful as you remembered.

He seemed peaceful, happy. Until he saw you.

A flicker beneath the surface. A face he thought he’d long forgotten.

You rose slowly, deliberately, emerging to the surface. Your black eyes met his. Recognition bloomed. Then terror.

He stumbled back.

Of course that’s how the story goes. That’s how the myth of the siren’s song came to be. You lured one of the most powerful pirate crews to their death. Eight men swallowed by the sea, their ship never found, their names etched into tavern whispers and sailor prayers.

The sea cradled them now.

Eight men, scattered in the water like offerings. Their limbs moved slowly, not from exhaustion but enchantment. The song had drawn them in, soft and sweet, like honey laced with poison. They didn’t fight it. Couldn’t.

Jongho floated closest, his eyes locked on yours. Salty water clung to his lashes. His lips trembled.

You swam to him, the water parting like it knew you. Like it feared you.

He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to.

You reached for him, cupping his face with hands that no longer felt human. Cold. Smooth. Scaled. He flinched, but didn’t pull away.

You tilted his chin up, meeting his gaze.

“Y/N?” he whispered, voice barely audible over the waves. “Is it really you?”

You laughed. A jagged, manic sound that echoed across the water.

“Yes, yes! it is!” Your smile was cruel. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”

He didn’t answer. His silence was enough.

“oh cat got you tongue?” 

His breath hitched. You leaned in, Jongho’s hands rise, hesitating at your waist. Not to pull you close. To hold you back. your lips brush his.

He hesitated but you didn’t. The kiss was cold. Final. A seal on the fate he’d chosen the moment he stepped into the sea.

When you pulled away, his eyes were wide. Not with love. With fear.

You smiled, flashing him your teeth, sharp and dangerous. Terror took over his features.

Then you sang.

The song rose again, no longer sweet. It was mournful now. A dirge. A lullaby for the damned. The waves surged, wrapping around you like silk. You let go of him, letting the current take him deeper.

Jongho reached for you but the ocean was faster.

You disappeared beneath the surface, voice still echoing, still calling.

And the crew began to sink.

One by one.

You listened to their screams and watched their struggle.

They say you sang from the rocks, hair tangled with seaweed, eyes glowing like moonstone. This part was wrong…oh so wrong. 

They say the ocean turned black that night. That the waves rose unnaturally high, and the lighthouse keeper saw shadows dancing on the water, too graceful to be human. They say you were cursed. A woman scorned. A lover betrayed. With a voice that was honeyed and hollow. That the sea gave you power in exchange for your pain. That you sing still, waiting for the next fool to mistake longing for love. And that, that was right.

long story short, you ended up arriving at school on an empty stomach, leading you to be very, very hangry 

at least until your break, where you grabbed something from the vending machines 

then, when it came time to present the group project, none of your group mates provided anything of substance to the presentation 

they literally just stood there like morons while you presented everything 

you stayed after class to talk to the teacher about possibly getting more credit for doing, you know, all the work

only for him to cut you off, saying that if you had problems, it should’ve either been brought up at the beginning of the assignment 

or you could’ve talked to them yourself 

 but you know the only reason the teacher won’t lower the students grades is because of the hefty donation their parents make to the school every year 

the perks of attending a school full of rich kids

except your family isn’t rich

they’re not poor either, your parents income settling nicely somewhere in the middle 

which you should be grateful for 

because it means that, for the most part, the rich students leave you alone

yeah you’re attending the school on a scholarship, but besides a few snide remarks here and there, you get left alone for the most part

but going back to your horrible day

the icing on the cake has to be right now, at this current moment 

school was let out around 3, but you stayed after for a little bit to help tutor an underclassman who was struggling in a literature class you had already taken 

it was pretty easy to tutor the kid, he seemed like he was really trying to do better, which always made your life much easier 

but still, you can’t deny the relief you felt once the tutoring hour came to an end and you were allowed to leave

opening your car door, you haphazardly tossed your backpack into the passenger seat and buckled yourself in

you place the key in the ignition, turning it and waiting for the rumble of the engine to start up

except it never came 

staring at your steering wheel, you attempt once, twice, three more times to turn the key, praying to whatever gods that were laughing at you to please just let your car start so you could get home

it seems no one answered your prayers 

letting out a loud swear, you throw open your car door and step out before slamming the door behind you. 

you pull out your phone to try and call your parents, but before you can even pull up your contacts, your phone’s screen turns black

it died 

you think incredulously 

letting out a small laugh of disbelief you toss your phone onto the hood of your car

rubbing your face over your hands, you begin to think of a plan 

I think I still have some cash, I might be able to catch the bus home 

I just have to ask the security guards to not tow my car, or else I’ll have to go and pay to get it back with money I certainly don’t have right now-

“Hey” 

you startle, looking to your side

where a sleek, black car has now pulled up next to you

the passenger side window is rolled down, and through it, you see a familiar face

Choi Jongho 

son of the people who literally own the school

You close your eyes

my day cannot get any fucking worse you think

not that you hate Jongho or anything

he’s actually quite nice

a little out of touch with reality sometimes, but pleasant enough

in the beginning of the semester, the two of you were paired up for a short project 

while you initially dreaded it, as every other kid you had ever been paired up with sat back and let you do all the work

you were pleasantly surprised when Jongho insisted on splitting the work evenly with you

he even went as far dropping off assignments you missed when you had unexpectedly fallen sick 

of course, once the project was finished, the two of you went your separate ways 

save for the small nod of acknowledgement the two of you shared when you passed each other in the halls

you guys didn’t talk to each other 

that doesn’t mean you didn’t notice how good he always looked though

with his long coats and perfectly done hair 

and on occasion, the thick round glasses that nicely framed his face-

“(Y/n)?”

Blinking harshly, you’re shaken out of your thoughts when Jongho calls your name 

He quirks an eyebrow

“Are you okay?”

You let out a sigh and shake your head

“My car decided today would be the best day to take a shit on me”

Jongho makes a small o shape with his mouth before reaching over to pop open the passenger door 

“C’mon, I’ll take you home” 

Your eyes widen and you begin shaking your head 

“Nononono, it’s fine. I have money to take the bus anyways, I’ll just come back later for my car. Plus, I don’t want you to waste your gas driving me around-”

your rambling is cut short when Jongho lets out a small chuckle 

“You really think I care about gas?”

You shut your mouth before shrugging 

“I don’t know what you rich kids worry about in the first place,” you tease

Jongho rolls his eyes

“Just get in the car (Y/N), you shouldn’t take the bus right now anyways.”

Thinking it over for a split second, you nod your head and reach back inside your car to grab your backpack, phone and keys

quickly locking your car, you sling your backpack over your shoulder and walk over to Jongho’s car 

sliding in, you can’t help but notice how nice the interior is

there’s not a speck of dust in the whole thing and it smells so good

I wonder if it’s his cologne you muse

“Same address?” Jongho asks, looking at you expectantly 

god, it feels so weird to have his full gaze pinned on you 

even after working with him, you don’t think you’ll ever get over the giddy feeling in your stomach you experience when Jongho rests his full attention on you

“Yup,” you swallow, nodding your head

Jongho is quick to put his car in drive and the two of you take off in a comfortable silence 

“So,” Jongho starts, “what happened with your car?” 

you groan, your head falling back against the headrest 

“Honestly, I have no idea. It’s rarely given me any problems before this, but today, it just decided to stop turning on altogether.” 

Jongho hums

“I have a close friend who’s really good with cars,” he says. 

“I can ask him to take a look at yours, if you want.”

You frown slightly 

If he knows Jongho then it might cost me an arm and a leg just for him to even look at my car

“It’s okay-” you start, trying to figure out how to nicely turn him down

As if reading your mind, Jongho cuts you off 

“You don’t have to worry about money, if that’s what you’re thinking about,” he glances at you from the corner of his eye

“I’ll just say it’s for a friend and he won’t charge me.” 

a friend?

“Plus, he owes me anyway from the last time I helped him out with his girlfriend,” Jongho rolls his eyes, but you can still hear the fondness seeping into his tone

You turn to face him

“Are you sure?” you ask hesitantly 

you don’t like feeling like you owe people things 

not that Jongho is one of those people

but still

his car probably costs more than your house

and you’d rather not have to experience paying him back, whatever way it may be

Jongho shrugs

“Of course. I’d rather help you with car and not worry about you getting around safely than letting you take it elsewhere.” 

You feel your face warm and you have no idea what to say

meanwhile, Jongho is internally freaking the fuck out over letting his thoughts slip 

yeah, okay, maybe he thinks you’re a little cute, and he really admires your work ethic, and how you treat him like a normal human being rather than just another rich kid 

and maybe he thinks your nervous habit of chewing on your lip is a little bit cute and the way you confidently raise your hand to speak up in class is, like, really hot 

but still

he’s supposed to be cool and collected 

not whatever the fuck just happened

there’s an awkward silence while the two of you sit with those words

thankfully, Jongho turns onto your street before the silence can stretch on 

“I’m surprised you still remember where I live,” you admit

Jongho tries to ignore the way his neck feels hot 

“What can I say, I have a great memory” 

slowly, the car pulls up to a smooth stop in front of your driveway

grabbing your backpack, you reach for the door handle 

“Thank you again Jongho, I really appreciate it,”

now it’s his turn to feel flustered at your honest gaze 

“anytime” is all he manages to get out 

nodding slightly, you open the car door and step out, making sure to gently shut the door behind you 

before you’re able to take a few steps forward, a voice stops you in your tracks

“What time should I be here tomorrow?” 

You make a confused noise

“Huh?”

“Well, since you still don’t have a car and I won’t be able to have my friend look at it for another week, I’ll pick you up and drop you off.”

you shake your head 

“No it’s fine! Seriously, this was more than enough, and you’re already doing so much for me-”

Jongho cuts you off again

“But I want to,” he says simply

well shit 

what are you supposed to say to that? 

biting your lip nervously, you eventually nod your head 

“Okay fine, but I’m going to do something to return the favor,” you threaten 

a beautiful gummy smile breaks out on Jongho’s face 

“I can’t wait”

                                               ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

“No no, not that….Mingi….shit!  NO HIT THE …damn it….the turret, Mingi….” Jongho sighs.  You can’t help but stand back and cover your mouth as you watch your brother and his best friend play at their computers.  You’ll never know why Jongho bothered playing with your brother.   Mingi wasn’t very good, but you supposed he was fun to be around.  

“I’m here.” you mumble, knowing the two were too involved to bother greeting you.  Sure enough, Jongho was explaining to Mingi what he should have done and of course ... .Mingi was explaining how he did actually do the thing that you knew very well he didn’t.  Whatever it was….you didn’t pay much attention to the games they played.  

Tossing your bag on the couch and shaking your head, you tuck your spare key into your pocket.  Jongho and Mingi had moved in together after high school and they’d been roommates ever since.  Now that you’d move back to town for the summer, you were going to crash here since they had the extra room.  

You weren’t sure what that was going to mean for the two of them, or how well you’d sleep with the two of them around.  Jongho was fairly respectful, he always had been when you’d been growing up, but Mingi tended to get loud when he was playing games.  Smiling at their antics you watch them for a few moments before you grab your bag and head into the guest room.  

A bit later after putting your few things away, tossing on some sweats and a tank top, you head back out.  It had been quiet and you notice just Jongho sitting at the computer with his headset on.  Wondering where your brother had gone, you walk up next to your long time friend.  

Smiling as  he is so into what he’s doing that you can’t help yourself, you lean down and blow on the back of his neck.  The high pitched yell that escapes him has you laughing like a moron as he spins, pulling the headset down.  His eyes are huge before he notices you and he shakes his head.  

“Y-...Y/n??” he stutters, his cheeks turning pink.  Oh my god, he’s even more adorable than ever, you think, smiling.  Pinching his cheek, you lean down close to him.  “Did I scare you?” you ask, grinning and he pushes his chair back, a scowl coming over his face. “What the hell, when did you get here?” he asks, rubbing his neck.  You can’t help but notice the tinge of red on his neck too and smirk.  He was still so easy to tease.

“I’ve been here since you were explaining to my moron of a brother what to do with some kind of turret thing.” you say and he just looks at you, then shakes his head.  “Why do you still play with him?” you ask and he just sighs.  “I ask myself that all the time, but here I am.” You just smile knowingly and pet his hair.  “My poor teddy bear.” you say pouting and he brushes your hand away.  “Cut it out, we’re too old for that.” he says but you can’t help but notice the little twitch of a smile.  

“Aww….fine then, I’ll just ignore you like every other boring guy.  I’ll go find another cuddly bear to -” Coughing, he stands up, taking your hand and putting it back on his head.  “Fine fine, I’ll be your bear.” he sighs, rolling his eyes.  

“Yay!” you say, clapping.  He gives you his adorable gummy smile and you can’t help but feel the tiny twinge of a long forgotten crush creep up.  Shaking your head, you just brush it off and make your way into the kitchen.  “I bet you two haven’t eaten anything but take out and ramen for awhile huh?” you ask and he makes his way over to the small area, sitting on a stool to watch you pick through their supplies.  

“You know us so well.  Mingi hasn’t shut up about wanting your cooking again though.  I can’t say that I disagree either.” He smiles again and you lean over to pinch his cheek.  “Well I’ve missed cooking for you guys.”  Frowning, you pull open a drawer and quickly grab a notepad and pen, starting a list.  

“UNFORTUNATELY, I will have to go shopping for stuff, since you guys have almost nothing but junk.”  you busy yourself making the list and he just watches you, making chit chat.  Mingi comes barreling back in the door and grabs something off the table.  “OH! HEY Y/N! BE BACK-” he yells, then runs back out.  

“Ooookay, weirdo.” you say, just shaking your head and returning to the list.  “Not going to even ask.” you mutter.  “Ok! Me too, I’ll be back in a bit.” you say, going to grab your bag and shoes.  “I’ll come with you.  I can help carry everything back with you.” he offers and you smile, nodding.  “Thanks, you’re always so sweet and reliable.  Can I just clone you?” you ask and he smiles at you.  

You have an uneventful shopping trip and true to his word, Jongho carries everything back, not even letting you carry a light bag.  “Seriously, are you trying to impress me, sir?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.  He grins and leans over to you.  “Why? Is it working?” he asks slyly and you can’t help but feel your heart skip for just a split second.  “Hmm…it may be …” you say, returning his sly smirk.  

Clearing his throat, you both make your way into the dark apartment.  “What the hell…” Jongho says, then sets everything down.  As you busy yourself putting things away, Jongho pulls out his phone.  “Idiot.  He forgot he had to work overnight tonight.  No wonder.”  he snorts and you burst out into laughter.  

“He still hasn’t been able to figure out his alarm on his phone?” you ask and Jongho shakes his head.  “I’ve tried….even when I do it for him, he loses his phone.  You know how it is.”  You just nod, starting to prep veggies.  “Oh I do…I do..” you smile.  Jongho comes to join you, listening to directions as you tell him how to cut things.  

“You’re still so damned good at everything, aren’t you? Doesn’t it get annoying?” you ask, laughing.  He just smiles down at you, and you can’t help but notice how small you feel compared to him.  “There’s maybe a few things I’ve not mastered yet.  But not many.” he says, and from anyone else it would sound cocky.  But you’ve known him long enough to know the truth…he really was just good at everything he did.  “Somehow I imagine if you truly wanted to do them, you’d do them well.” you mutter, snorting.  He just shakes his head at you as you continue to cook.  

Once everything was done and you’d both eaten, you decide to go change into some pjs.  When you come back out you notice he is just watching something on his computer.   “Hey…if you’re busy I can-” “Nope!” he says, pulling off his headset and getting up.  “Want to watch a movie or something?” he asks and you just shrug, going to flop onto the couch.  

“Sure, I don’t know anything I want to see though…” you say and he sits next to you.  “Ok, we can just browse..” he says, flipping through some apps to find something.  “Why don’t you tell me how you’ve been?” you suggest, turning towards him, pulling your leg under yourself.  He smiles, glancing over at you.  

“How is the singing thing going?  You really need to do something with that gorgeous voice of yours.” You say, letting your head fall to the side and admiring him.  He glances at you again, noticing that you’re staring.  “Uh…yeah well, I’m still doing some training stuff…it’s still…Why don’t you tell me about what you’ve been up to? What’s new?” he asks and you smirk, knowing he hated talking about himself.  

“Hmm…nothing new.  School is fine, one more semester then I should be back permanently unless you know, something incredible happens.” you say.  Pulling the remote from his hand, you toss it to the side.  “I don’t want to watch anything.  I did have….a weird question for you.” you say, biting your lip.  It would be odd to ask Jongho about this but…you didn’t really have anyone but the girls in your dorm back at Uni.  

Talking to a guy would probably be your best bet.  “I…so…” you try to start and he wrinkles his eyebrows, turning towards you, mimicking your posture to listen.  “Tell me…What’s going on?” he asks and you already feel comforted.  Even when you were young, Jongho was always your big teddy bear, even when you and Mingi fought, he was always on your side.  His presence alone was comforting for you.

“Ok don’t tell Mingi I talked to you about this…” you say and he nods, concentrating on you.  “I…sort of dated and I had some issues and I won’t get into them but like…” you trail off as his eyes darken and his lips pull down.  “Dated?” he asks and you nod, scratching your neck as you look away.  “Yeah…guy was kind of a jerk but like….I’m over it! Anyhow-” He cuts you off, grabbing your hand.  “What do you mean?” He asks and his eyes are searching yours.  

“Just uh…I don’t want to get into it!” you laugh, realizing how serious he’s being.  “Probably not a good idea to mention it, sorry.  I forgot it’s probably weird to think of me as anything but Mingi’s annoying little sister.” you say, feeling your cheeks heat up.  His gaze was not leaving you and you felt oddly vulnerable all of a sudden.  

“That’s not what I was thinking, Y/n.  Not at all.  I was wondering if some bastard hurt you and who I was going to have to break in half.” he says, completely deadpan.  You feel your stomach flip at his demeanor and you swallow, realizing your tiny crush may not have been completely squashed at all.  “Jongho…I’m fine…just don’t look at me….like…that.”  you whisper and he frowns, cocking his head to the side.  “Like what?”  he asks, confused.  

You can’t help but let out a small laugh, chewing your lip.  “Like you want to protect me as more than your friends sister….I’ll get weird ideas…” you mutter, then you redden even more as you realize you said that out loud.  Instead of laughing at you though, you’re met with silence as his gaze bores into you.  You can’t help but keep looking away, growing even more confused at his stillness.  Then his eyes change, like he’s come to a decision before he is grasping your hand, pulling you towards him, his mouth meeting yours.

You go completely still in shock for a split second before you throw your arms around his neck and push yourself onto him.  The sudden change in your attitude has him falling backwards, scrambling to grab you and hold you as you pry his lips apart with your tongue.  You moan into his mouth as his tongue slips against yours.  His tentative hold on your waist all of a sudden becomes a strong grip, his hands sliding around you.  One hand slides up your back, his hand cradling the back of your neck.  “Fuck-” he manages as he nips your bottom lip, then your hands are in his hair.  

You used to have dreams of what it would be like to kiss Jongho, far back when you were teenagers.  But those were little girl dreams and this was the real thing.  And it was so much better than you’d ever imagined.  But never once had you imagined he’d actually be the one to kiss you first.  You always assumed he’d never seen you that way.  But his mouth and his tongue and…certain parts pressing against you as you pressed against him were saying something else.

“Jongho-” you moan against his mouth and then he’s tearing his lips from yours, pushing himself back even as you reach for him.  “Shit….Y/n…I’m sorry I-” he says but you just crawl towards him, straddling him as he lays back on the couch, his eyes wide.  “No you don’t, don’t you dare….” you say, seating yourself on him so you can feel his arousal against your ass.  

“Don’t you even, Choi Jongho. Don’t you dare do something like that, then turn around and try to take it back.  You can’t unopen this door.” you say, grabbing his hand and bringing it to your waistband, pulling up your tank top with your other hand.  You only have to bring his fingers to the flesh of your hip before he’s sitting back up, taking control as he dips his hand into your pajama bottoms.  His large hand squeezes a handful of your ass as you grind against him.  

“Shit…” he mutters as you run your fingers through his hair, tipping his head back as you gently pull the strands.  “I want you, Choi Jongho.” you state and he closes his eyes briefly, seeming to steel himself as you wait for him to come to terms with what is about to happen.  “I’m not taking no as an answ-” you start but then he’s flipping you onto your back, settling himself between your parted thighs.  Your eyes go as wide as your smile as you look up at the man hovering above you.  

“Oh my…” you breathe out, your eyes dancing as his stern expression brings a dampness to your panties you hadn’t expected.  “Jongho…” you whisper as he dips down to take your mouth with his, propping himself up on his elbow.  His other hand slips up your top, his fingertips skimming along your side and making you shiver.  “I wasn’t saying no, princess…” he murmurs, kissing down your jawline.   He draws back to look down at you as his hand cups your breast, your lips parting in a moan as he lightly pinches your nipple through the thin material of your bralette.  “Then…what were you stopping for…?” you say, his touch bringing little pants from you.  

“Coming to terms with what I’ve wanted to do for a long fucking time.” he says and your eyes fly open as he yanks your top up, exposing your tits so he can admire you.  “Fuck…you’re so sexy…” he murmurs, then he’s taking your nipple in his mouth, rolling his tongue around on it.  “You’ve- oh my god-” “Shhh, talk later….my mouth is full…” he mutters between moving to your other breast, sucking that nipple into his mouth.  You raise your hips a bit, trying to get him closer, wanting to feel him against you.  

“Patience, princess…” he says and you can’t help but smirk at the cute nickname he’d given you when you were younger.   You tug at his top and he sits up to help you remove it.  You admire his chest, always hidden under so much clothing but you knew he was athletic and it showed.  You run your hands down his bare torso and he hisses as you get to his pants.  “Jongho…” you moan out, licking your lips.  

He just watches as you unbutton, then unzip his jeans, yanking them down with his boxers.  Your eyes light up as his thick, rigid cock is freed, standing big and proud in front of you.  Unable to stop yourself, you sit up enough to take just the head of his cock into your mouth, moaning softly as you taste the saltiness of his precum wet your tongue.  His hand buries itself into your hair as you roll your tongue around, mimicking what he’d done to your nipple as you look up at him.  

The sight of you with your mouth on him, your top yanked up and your tits exposed has him groaning loudly, gasping as you wrap your hand around him to stroke.  You cup his balls in your other hand and as you watch him and slowly take him until he is hitting the back of your throat, he has to pull you off with a small cry.  

“Stop…fuck…” he whispers, standing up and yanking you up with him.  He pulls off your top and bralette, tossing them, then he’s yanking down your pajama bottoms, kicking his own pants off in the process.   Then he’s backing you up against the wall.  “Tell me now, if this is ok.  I want to hear you say again that you want this.  I need to make sure…” he is growling out and there’s nothing in the world that would make you say anything but, “Yes, fuck yes, I need you inside of me right n-” you are pawing at him, as he lifts you and presses your back into the wall.  Your legs wrap around him as he cuts you off with his tongue, delving into your mouth.  

He holds you effortlessly as he slips his hand between you, his fingers exploring your delicate folds, soaked with need for him.  “Oh my god…” he moans and you yank his hair.  “Stop playing and fuck me.” you demand, biting his lip.  He just nods, hoisting you up a bit, his hand leaving your drenched core to guide his thick cock against you, slipping back and forth across your slick to tease you.  “Jongho!!!!” you cry as you wiggle, desperate for him.  

“Patience, little girl…” he whispers as he presses himself into you, stretching you with how thick he is.  “God, you’re so tight….” you nod, your hands clenching his shoulders as he eases himself into you.  “Fuck baby girl…talk to me…tell me you’re doing alright…” he says through clenched teeth and you nod, leaning back so you can see eachother’s faces.  

“Jongho..you feel so good….please….more…more…” you moan and he drops his head onto your shoulder.  “Yeah, more?” he asks and you cry out as he holds your ass and plunges the rest of the way into you.  At your sharp cry, he stops momentarily, but then he starts pulling out, just to drive himself deep into you again.  This draws out another yell, your voice cracking as he fills you completely, his dick so big you can feel it almost in your womb.  

“MORE!” you scream, and he moans loudly into your neck as he plows into you mercilessly.  The feeling of being suspended with just his body holding you up as you dizzy, your abdomen tightening quickly and you grip his hair, his shoulders as you as thrown into a spiral as your orgasm washes over you.  

He leans back to watch you cum, his face completely flushed with passion as you clench around him, drenching him as he continues his steady pace.  Your whimpers have him slowing, then he’s gently letting you down on your legs.  “Turn around for me, gorgeous.  I want to see your pretty ass while I fuck you…” You had steadied yourself for a moment but his words make you go weak again and he’s chuckling in your ear as he turns you to place your hands on the wall.  

“That’s it, don’t worry I’ve got you…” he murmurs, placing his hand on your lower back to bend you  forward.  You look back at him and bite your lip as his hand slips down the front of you, his fingers seeking out your puffy clit as he guides himself back into you.  “Jongho…oh god…you…” you try to say but he’s just humming at you, almost cooing as he buries himself completely within you.  His free hand presses against your lower belly as he starts thrusting into you and he gasps.  “Fuck, I call feel myself inside of you, so nice and deep..” he groans out and you can only whine as he picks up the pace.  

“Jongho…so big…fuck me harder…more…” you cry out and his noises go from heavy breathing and moans to sharper cries as you talk to him.  “Yeah? You like when I fuck you?  You like me deep inside your pretty pussy?” he asks and you scream as his fingers rub your swollen nub faster, driving you over into another orgasm.  

“Jongho! C-ccuu-mming…” you manage, gritting your teeth.  You look back at him again, watching his face contort as you clamp around him and his eyes fly open, then squeeze shut as he gasps, his hips stuttering.  “Ah fuc-” he chokes out but then he’s pulling out of you, and you watch as he cums all over your ass, the white ropes of cum shooting out in spurts.  “Mmm cum for me….so fucking hot..” you moan, as he jerks himself off, milking every last drop.  You can’t help yourself as you turn around and drop to your knees, taking him in your hand to make sure he’s completely empty.  He groans, then almost squeaks as you take him in your mouth, tasting his release and savoring it as you look up at him.  

“Oh my god….you’re killing me…” he moans, then has to gently pull you off as he hisses, too sensitive after cumming so hard.  “Mmmm…you taste amazing…” you murmur, licking your lips and his eyes roll back as he grunts at you.  “Oh man…yeah…you’re going to be the death of me.” 

You stand up and he pulls you into his arms, his mouth capturing yours in a deep, intimate kiss.  “Mmm…” you murmur, happy in his strong embrace.  “Do me a favor, princess.” he says, pulling back to brush your hair back.  “Hmm?” you manage, your lips trying to find his again.  He laughs and pokes your nose.  “Don’t date anyone else.  You’re mine.” he says, and you open your eyes, smiling happily.  

“As if that was even a thought, you big idiot.” you say and he shakes his head at you.  “But…who’s gonna tell Mingi?” you say and his eyes go wide.  You smirk and run towards the bathroom.  “Not it! Now get in here and clean me up!” you yell and he’s immediately chasing you.