roni

It had been quite a while since you’d lost your virginity, and after you’d run through a couple partners, you’d come to accept the fact that a man would never deliver that finishing, white hot ecstasy to you. But the way your friend had said it like such sacrilege made you embarrassed, a flush creeping up your ears.

“It’s fine, it’s not like I’ve never come in general,” you went on a bit too quickly, like you had to explain yourself. “It’s just that if I’m with somebody, and I wanna finish, then I have to… do it myself.”

“Gods,” Mor sat back, finishing the final sip of her— how many was that again?— umpteenth glass of wine. “This is why I prefer women.”

You stifled the laugh that nearly escaped. “I wish I could share that sentiment. Sadly…,” you sighed, “Penis is what does it for me.”

“Apparently not,” Mor whispered under her breath, going to sip more from her cup, but it was already empty.

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed the open bottle, ready to pour her another— but nothing came out. The two of you blinked at the empty glass, slow to register what that meant exactly.

“Welp. Should we start taking shots, then?” She asked with concerning sincerity.

You were quick to shoot her down. “Um, no thanks. I'd rather not feel like complete death at training in—” you glanced at the clock above the hearth, “six hours.”

Mor’s expression turned sour, as did yours. Six hours was certainly not enough time for your tipsiness to wear off completely, especially since wine had been your choice of poison for the night. “Fucking cauldron. Guess we should call it a night,” she groaned, dragging her pretty hands across her face.

The House cleaned away your glasses and the numerous empty wine bottles and corks that littered the surrounding area. You thanked it, stroking the table briefly as Mor trudged off, wanting to take a minute to yourself and maybe have some tea to relax before bed. You were completely unaware of the shadowy figure that was frozen around the kitchen corner, having heard every word of your secret confession.

Azriel stood in silent contemplation behind the doorway. He did not believe in fate, or destiny, or whatever crock of nonsense others would claim ruled their lives, but… was it not a sign that he had been walking into the kitchen for a late night sweet, only to stumble upon you spilling drunken secrets? It was rare to find anyone else up as late as him, and it would be a lie if he claimed he wandered out of his chambers tonight solely in search of a snack.

The two of you were quite close friends, but there was something more there that neither of you were brave enough to acknowledge. Lingering glances, teasing flirtation that always went a bit too far, the easy back and forth you volleyed with your sarcastic, dry comments. Yes, somehow the shadowsinger had found himself wrapped around your little finger, yet again enamored with a beautiful lady friend who did not return his interest.

Except you did.

Azriel was too blind to know it; too doubtful, too hard on himself to believe you would really want him. But that did not stop him from thinking about you every time he fisted his cock in the long, solitary hours of the night.

Everyone else in the circle could see it plain as day— in fact, Mor was perhaps the most eager proponent of them all. And perhaps she was a bad friend for allowing you to spill that sultry, enticing secret when she was aware that the shadowsinger who loved you now idled within earshot. Perhaps she was even worse for leaving in a hurry, a smirk on her lips and her fingers crossed as she skipped off to her room.

You remained at the large wooden table, unaware that the man who ruled your fantasies was just around the corner. He was silent and still as possible, battling himself with whether he should sneak off and never breathe a word of this, or if he should join you and take the risk. His shadows reported to him from the other corner of the room, informing that you were now sipping tea and looking gorgeous as ever, clad in a tight, sparkly evening dress that you had worn to the club that Mor had taken you to earlier that night.

Azriel stepped out from his hiding place.

You jumped— even with your fae hearing and so many hours spent with your friend, you never adjusted to how sneaky the spymaster could be. He emerged from the darkness of the kitchen, donned in gray sweats that hung low on his hips, exposing a glorious stripe of tanned, hard muscle that you stared at shamelessly. The white t-shirt that stretched across his broad chest was criminal, and you had to actively avert your eyes from burning into his visage, finally forcing yourself to meet his gaze.

But Azriel was looking at you, too, taking in how your dress flawlessly hugged your every curve, the expanse of your arms and décolletage that laid bare in the sleeveless, sweetheart ensemble. He noted the matching heels that were kicked haphazardly underneath your seat, the hair now falling from the clip you’d pinned at the beginning of the night, your slightly glazed expression. A small smirk graced his lips.

“Az!” You sighed, a hand on your chest, “How many times do I have to tell you not to sneak up on me like that?”

The Illyrian only shrugged, approaching slowly. “How many times do I have to tell you to work on your awareness? Always take note of your surroundings?” He quipped back easily, coming to stand beside you. He was so tall that you had to crane your neck to look up at him, and you motioned for him to take the seat that Mor had vacated only minutes earlier.

You play-scowled as he obliged, only replying once he was sat, his large wings tucking in behind broad shoulders. “And why would I do that, when one of your shadows is always watching for me?”

Azriel’s hazel eyes widened, a faint blush tinging his cheeks. You wished you could commission Feyre to paint that expression— you loved how boyish it made him look, how cute. But he quickly recovered, that measured mask of cool returning to his handsome face. “You should be flattered. They seem to take interest in you.”

“Hmm,” you feigned thought, rolling your eyes to then land on him and bat your lashes, “Just them that are interested?”

The shadowsinger couldn’t contain his grin. Flirting with you was just too easy, and he loved when you looked at him like this, gave him all your attention. It never led anywhere, anyway— so really, it was harmless… right? He chose not to respond, shrugging and taking a sip of the teacup that the House had conjured for him.

You huffed, displeased. Azriel was always the one to cut your flirting short, only entertaining you to the point where you weren’t sure if he was just playing with you or if there was actually some sincerity in his antics. It was fittingly mysterious of him, and undeniably irritating. You decided you weren’t going to have any of that tonight, the remnants of your liquid courage just enough to push you a step further than you would otherwise go.

“Az, tell me—,” you crossed your arms over the table and leaned toward the spymaster who took another sip of tea, nodding for you to go on. It took every ounce of the male’s willpower to not drop his gaze to your cleavage that was now pressed onto the tabletop, squished between your arms. “— Have you ever made a girl come?”

Azriel spit out the hot liquid, wings going rigid behind his back and his scarred fingers clutching the tiny cup in his palm. You examined the fresh line of tea that was sprayed onto the table, slightly amused as the House began to clean it away. But you continued on, determined to get an answer.

“I’ve heard you have a long list of lovers, surely you know how to do it?”

The Illyrian’s cheeks were now a bright red, the most obvious display of emotion you’d ever seen from him. “What—” he stuttered, still shocked that you had really just asked him that. “—Who told you that?”

You frowned, tilting your head in your hands, elbows sliding out further onto the table. “I asked first,” you pouted, taking a sip from your cup.

The male fumbled for words. True, he had heard your conversation with Mor and yes, he did make the choice to come in and sit down with you but never would he have expected you to ask him such a thing, so outright, so brazen.

“…I have,” he finally replied, slightly hiding behind his cup. You’d never seen the shadowsinger look so timid; it was endearing.

“But how do you know you really did?” You queried, looking at him curiously. “I mean— girls can fake it, so how do you really know?”

Azriel seemed offended at your insinuation. But he only pursed his lips and said, “My question…?”

You clicked your tongue and answered, “Cassian and his big mouth. And then Rhys with his… And maybe Mor at some point as well.”

His face contorted into a scowl, shadows coming to lick at his shoulders. But he decided to save his revenge for later, instead meeting your inquisitive gaze and deciding that your intention was not to slander him. “I am almost certain that my partners have never faked completion,” was all the explanation he gave.

“But how do you know—”

“Do you fake a lot of orgasms, Y/N?” Azriel shot back, his turn to pose the picture of nonchalance as he leaned on one elbow, hand on his cheek.

Your cheeks burst into flames. “W-What? No— I—”

The shadowsinger smirked at your flustered babbling. He was tempted to poke at you some more but took pity, instead savoring how cute you looked when you were embarrassed. But you couldn’t find the strength to answer, so he went on to fill the silence.

“If a man cannot make you finish, you should move on and find someone who can,” he said calmly, studying your bashful gaze that was now fixed on the table before you.

You sat up, removing your arms from the table so you could cross them over your chest, guarding yourself. It was your choice to enter this conversation but now it was getting a little too real, and your mortification was getting worse by the minute as Azriel’s steady hazel eyes were pinned to your every movement.

“Yeah…,” you agreed. In theory, his advice was all good and well, but there was no way that it would be that easy. “That’s hard to find, though.”

Azriel gauged your expression, wondering if he should admit he heard your earlier confession to Mor. But you seemed so embarrassed, he didn’t want to make you any more uncomfortable.

“Is there, like, a class you took or something? Maybe you can introduce me to one of your fellow classmates,” you attempted a joke, but the shadowsinger’s gaze only hardened, the corner of his lip twitching in distaste.

Jealousy and possessiveness swirled in his gut, not liking that you had just asked him to set you up— even if you had only meant it as a joke. You were not his, yet your faux request rubbed him the wrong way.

But the slightly hurt look you were giving him now was enough to wipe away any ill emotion that had briefly bloomed. “Just kidding…,” you murmured, fingering the handle of your now-empty tea cup.

Azriel fought to find the words that could navigate him through this strange situation. If only somehow he could reassure you, offer his services, but not ruin your friendship, nor come off creepy.

He took too long, because you rose, excusing yourself, “I think I better get to sleep.” Your cup disappeared and you quietly thanked the house, turning away from the male and heading toward the bedrooms.

The spymaster stood as well, following you down the hall. Both your rooms were at the very end of the walkway, meaning he at least had another minute of your time. His heart beat quickly in his chest, desperate to smooth things over with you, desperate for however much longer he could get with you. “I did not take a class,” he said, matching your pace.

You shot him an inquisitive look over your shoulder.

“One of the marks of a true man is to be able to fully pleasure a lady.”

You laughed, pausing so that you could walk by his side. “So you think of yourself as a true man? What is that supposed to mean?”

Azriel smirked, glad that your disposition seemed a little looser. “It means, I’ve had five hundred years to cultivate my skills.”

“Riiight, with your countless lovers,” you quipped, a little smirk growing on your lips.

A scarred hand pushed you gently, just hard enough to let you know he didn’t appreciate such accusations— even if they held some truth. Those gorgeous hazel eyes rolled as he clicked his tongue, about to shoot something back when you arrived at your door.

You didn’t reach for the handle though, instead turning to look up at him as your back brushed against the sturdy wood of your threshold. “Thanks for all your—,” you blushed, gaze fleeting, “insight.”

Dark brows furrowed at you. You had said it in such a meek little voice, your hands wringing with anxiety. It was easy for him to read your body language, but also, his earlier eavesdropping had cued him in more than you knew. Even though your conversation had made him seem like the one with all the expertise, his heart was slamming wildly against his ribs, tanned cheeks feeling hot. Somehow the spymaster managed to keep his composure and dared to take the leap.

“May I ask why you are so curious all of a sudden, little dove?” He said, a gleam in his gaze. “Would you like for me to prove myself to you?”

You chuckled, shocked, unbelieving. “That joke is deplorable— I think you’ve been spending too much time with Cassian lately. ”

Usually a jab at his brother would make the shadowsinger bark out a laugh, but he remained stoic, looking down at you with profound intensity. The two of you stared at each other, and you found yourself unable to look away. There was always something about Azriel that drew you to him, and in that moment, as he leaned a hand against the door behind you and filled your senses with the scent of cedar and crisp, chilled night…

His gaze flicked down to your lips.

You studied his, the full, soft pink calling to you.

Azriel could barely find the strength to resist kissing you, his face only inches from yours. The sweet, fresh smell of you was so devastatingly strong with such a short distance between you, and the way you were looking at him… he swore he could discern hunger in your beautiful, captivating gaze…

“Do you want that to be a joke, Y/N?” he murmured, warm breath washing over your cheek. The tip of his nose just barely scraped yours, another muscular arm coming to trap the other side of your body so he had you right up against the door with no escape. “I did not intend for it to be, but if that’s what pleases you…”

You looked at him with wide eyes, a shiver running through you. A new scent greeted your nose, and your lips parted as you took it in, your body shamelessly eating up the smell of his growing desire.

The shadowsinger licked his lips, gaze piercing yours as he detected the beginnings of a similar, honeyed scent emitting from you. There was no going back now, he decided. He was closer to you than ever, and he couldn’t pretend he could find satisfaction in you both returning alone to your rooms, not tonight. He dared to caress your jaw, the smooth skin a contrast to the rough texture of his scars.

“It’s your pleasure I seek, always…,” he said, and you held your breath, unblinking as you beheld his astounding beauty up close. “I only aim to please you… will you allow me to?”

Permission— he was asking permission. You could barely think; was he serious? Azriel was not the type to fool about things of such gravity… If this was some cruel joke…

Before you could give it much thought, your mouth was already moving. “Yes,” you breathed, answering him so quietly it was nearly inaudible, “Please, Azriel…”

The Illyrian’s brow twitched and he shuddered. He leaned down lower, lower— big, gentle hands coming to brace the small of your back and the nape of your neck, a thumb slipping along your jaw to point your face up to his… slowly, slow enough to give you the chance to change your mind… You leaned forward, eyelids fluttering shut. Another second went by and then, he kissed you.

Time stopped, and everything else faded away.

His lips pressed against yours and your arms wove around his neck, every place your skin touched exploding with sparks. The smell of him and his desire overwhelmed your senses, your knees weakening as he claimed your mouth with his, pressing you against him harder, hungrier.

You were snug between the door and his broad, powerful body. His hands squeezed at your hips, then slid down to your ass and lifted you effortlessly, your legs securing around his waist. The small friction of your core rubbing against his abs through your clothes was enough to make you gasp for breath.

Azriel seized the opportunity, his tongue coasting into your mouth without caution. The slick muscle wrestled with yours and you pulled at his hair, savoring the quiet moan that spilled onto your lips. You wanted more— to explore more of his skin, discover more of those sounds… Wordlessly the shadowsinger came to the same realization, fumbling with the door handle and tucking the two of you into the privacy of your room.

Your hair fanned out onto the pillows as the male deposited you on your bed, muscled thighs coming to part your legs and settle himself on his forearms above you, lips never leaving yours. It felt unreal to be consumed in the shadowsinger’s kiss, to have his hard body pressed up against yours and your hearts pounding together in harmony.

He felt the same, hardly believing you were really here beneath him, your small hands caressing his arms and his neck, fingernails digging into the meat of his shoulders and curling into his thick onyx locks. Finally he tore his mouth from yours, panting, studying your breathless form under him. “You are so gorgeous,” he praised, licking his kiss-bitten lips, hazel eyes ablaze as he examined the valley of your breasts. Before he leaned closer, he whispered, “Your safe word is moonlight, should you want to stop at any time.”

Though you didn’t plan on using it, you appreciated the consideration… and you wondered just what the male had in mind that might require such a precaution. But he captured your attention once more and you murmured his name as he moved to trail his tongue down your jaw and nibble at your throat, slowly making his way to plant open-mouthed kisses on your exposed cleavage. He pawed at the top of your dress, taking his time as he memorized the taste of your skin, tugging the material down. Your breasts spilled out for his eager mouth to immediately greet, soft lips capturing a nipple and his tongue rolling over it while his fingers found the other. Instinctively your hips bucked up against his, pleasure tickling you as he gave all his attention to your chest, grinding his aching cock into the mattress below.

Teeth grazed the sensitive nub and a moan escaped you at full volume, your cheeks burning when a ravenous glint met the shadowsinger’s eye. With just one swift look you knew he would do anything in his power to elicit more of those sounds from you, and your excitement only bloomed further as a hand slid up the slit in your dress, rough fingers raising goosebumps on your now-exposed thigh.

He kept busy as he explored your chest, sucking and kissing the swell of your breasts. The slow trail of his fingers up your thigh had you clenching in anticipation, whining when the digits brushed the lace edge of your dampening panties.

“Az, wait,” you huffed, causing the male to release your breasts, his warm gaze coming to inspect your face. Even though it was an embarrassing admission, for some reason you felt the need to inform him of your predicament. “I um— I’ve never… No one has ever been able to…”

Hazel pierced into you from his lower position on the bed, his broad shoulders steady and wings taut behind his back. He finished your sentence for you, ceasing your struggle, “…make you cum?”

Just hearing him say it made your soul want to leave your body, and you shut your eyes, nodding, wishing you could just skip this part. A gentle hand cupped the corner of your jaw, his thumb brushing your cheek with such tenderness that you dared to meet his gaze.

“I’m honored to be the first,” Azriel stated, unwavering as he looked deep into your eyes. His own were peering into you, the gold in his irises seeming to shine even in the dark of the room.

Your mouth opened to protest that he lower his expectations, but his thumb pressed into your parted lips and the words died in your throat. There was sheer determination in the look he was giving you— promise.

“Don’t think,” he whispered, his other hand coming to pull you down the sheets, back flat on the duvet and now squarely underneath his entirety. His toned body dwarfed yours and his ability to maneuver you with such ease made something distinctly female stir deep inside of you. “Just relax and focus on me. Focus on how my hands feel on you, my lips…”

A mewl escaped you as he leaned down to kiss the hollow of your neck, your head turning into the blanket while he left his mark on your throat. Your hips squirmed and his own pressed down in response, the hard length of him reaching for you through his sweats. The heat that resonated there made you dizzy, a fresh wave of desire pulsing through your pussy as he rutted against it.

The Illyrian’s groan rumbled across your skin, and he sank lower, again taking your breast into his mouth, an elbow digging into the mattress to hold himself up and curl a large hand around the back of your waist. The other wandered up your dress again, this time his fingers immediately cupping your core through your soaked underwear.

A string of quiet moans floated from your lips as his fingertips began to map your dripping cunt through the soiled material. The firm press of his digits against your entrance teased you until they wandered up to slowly rub your clit, his teeth grazing at your nipple. You whimpered, face twisting in ecstasy. Already the shadowsinger was making you feel better than anyone else had, and you weren’t even fully undressed.

At the realization, you fisted the cotton of his shirt. He complied instantly, ripping the article off of him with no issue, and you watched as the tattered cloth was swallowed by the shadows that danced at the foot of the bed. You then took in the sight before you, mouth watering at his utterly male form— the tan, lean muscle that tapered from his wide shoulders to his narrow waist, the contours and bulges that made his long hours of training evident, black ink melding perfectly with the straight planes and dipping down under the hem of his sweats.

Your fingers wandered on their own accord to splay across his broad chest, tracing the tattoos that laid there and thumbing over his nipples. That bit a low moan from the male, and he leaned down and captured your lips once more, tongue dominating yours. His hands disappeared behind your back and suddenly the zip down your back was undone, the material slipping down your sides. You helped him free you of the gown, now only clad in your soaked panties, hips squirming as you throbbed with need.

“Azriel,” you whimpered when his lips touched your sex through the cloth, the male taking a deep breath of your honeyed scent, and closing his eyes. His brow pinched as he experimentally licked at you, your thighs twitching as he released a moan of approval.

You gasped when he tore the drenched fabric off of you effortlessly, his teeth bared in a quiet snarl. Then he grabbed your hips and dragged your pussy onto his mouth, tongue spreading your folds and moaning as he savored the taste of you. He dove into you and you cried out in pleasure, his mouth sucking and nibbling on your sensitive core, tongue dragging up and down your seeping slit with fervor.

All of his attention focused on you was making you delirious, your eyes rolling back as you relished the sensations he was causing. His hands tucked under your ass and grappled onto your hips, not allowing you to squirm away from his generous attack. He alternated between gently sucking on your clit, your folds… then washing the sensitive bud with the flat of his tongue, laving over you wave after wave.

You were clenching, your hole leaking more and more as your body begged for some kind of relief. Utter want throbbed through you as scarred fingers slowly made their way toward your core. All remnants of thought left your skull at the press of rough digits at your entrance. There was nothing you could say or do as a finger slid inside of you, nothing but stretch around him and keen, gasp for breath. Before you could even moan, a second pushed in and disappeared knuckle-deep, right beside the first. The foreign stretch made your thighs tremble around his face, his nose nudging your clit as he continued his ministrations with his tongue.

His name became a prayer on your lips, a chant as those blessed digits curled and his knuckles scraped parts of you whose existence you had not known before. Slick was pouring down your thighs now, the steady, rough friction of his scars rubbing so deliciously along your gummy walls. You forgot any worries you had harbored, left them far behind as Azriel brought you closer and closer to the edge.

At some point you started begging, actually begging— you couldn’t help how good the shadowsinger was making you feel, couldn’t think to filter the words mixing with your ragged breaths.

Azriel only trekked on, mouth earnestly working in sync with his hand, examining the furrow of your brow, the part of your lips, the roll of your eyes back into your skull. Only then did he speak, mouth popping off of you just long enough to encourage you as you circled the drain.

“Good fucking girl,” he growled, the words vibrating through your cunt, tongue lashing against your folds between his praises. “I can feel your tight little pussy clamping down on me, I know you wanna cum…”

You could only whine and latch onto his shoulders as you hurtled toward that line no partner had ever been able to push you to, at full speed now that the shadowsinger was egging you on, pure filth falling from his lips.

“You can do it baby,” he purred, pressing another kiss to your clit, a brush of tongue following in its wake. “You’re gonna make me so proud, I swear my little dove, you’re right there… Come on pretty girl, cum for me, cum on my tongue.”

The tension in your belly heightened and you gasped, your body tensing under his firm grip and your back arching, teetering on the edge. And then you were cumming, your core gripping onto his fingers and pulsing, your head thrown back onto the sheets as you let out a long, sultry moan.

Azriel’s cock throbbed at the sound, his curiosity peaking as he wondered how your pussy would feel milking his cock like that, so tight and wet for him.

Your body was humming with bliss, fingernails embedded in the sheets beside your hips, your breath ragged and sweat glistening at your forehead. You’d only cum that hard a handful of times before, and it had taken a hell of a lot longer for you to get yourself to that point.

The Illyrian’s pace slowed, his fingers and his tongue still moving just enough to let you ride out your orgasm without overwhelming you. He continued to kiss your clit softly— even as his patience was wearing thin, his length crying for you, trapped tightly, painfully, beneath his pants.

His fingers finally fell from your entrance and he inspected the glossy sheen on them before he stuck them in his mouth. You watched as his tongue ran over every inch, savoring the taste of your cum. He pressed one final kiss to your clit and sat up, the tent in his pants more prevalent than before.

“I’m so proud of you, angel,” Azriel praised, a hand skimming down your thigh. His gaze was warm as he made eye contact, but the movement of his hand landing on his cock pulled your eyes from his.

You watched, still breathless as he firmly gripped his length through his sweats, a low sigh falling from his lips. He looked absolutely criminal touching himself like that, the shine of your cum still on his lips and his muscled torso heaving as he caught his breath.

All thought left your brain as his thumbs hooked the hem of his pants, dipping lower until you could see the base of his dark… thick cock. He pushed his pants down fully and your cunt clenched as his fully erect member slapped hard against his navel. The tip was the most beautiful shade of pink you’d ever seen, and your mouth dried as you examined the trail of glistening pre that dripped down the side. He fisted the base of himself, the wide vein running along the underside flexing as he twitched for you, eying the apex between your legs and your shared desire.

“See how hard you make me?” he said, a sinister glint in his gaze pinning you to the mattress. Both of you were fully naked now, and the sight of him approaching you, those big, ominous wings billowing with shadows behind him… he looked like a god, one that was about to completely decimate you. “See how much I ache for you? You completely own me, fuck… now that I’ve had a taste of that pretty little cunt, I’m yours.”

Your heart skipped a beat. It was unclear whether this was just dirty talk, or if he really meant that, but in the heat of the moment, you allowed yourself to believe his words were sincere.

He crawled toward you, completely predator as he neared. Heat rolled off his bronze skin, his member reaching for you, wings shuddering in anticipation. “These lips are yours…” he murmured, mouth grazing over yours. You closed your eyes, your arm reaching around his head, fingers carding through his soft hair. “These hands are yours…” His scars skimmed down the curve of your side, tingles echoing in their wake. “This cock, it’s yours…” you gasped as his hot tip sliced through your folds, tracing down your slit with ease from the orgasm he had just gifted you.

You moaned, hips lifting and your sex sliding along the length of him, coating him in your essence. He groaned at the sight, his breath mingling with yours as he panted, watching your most intimate parts slide against each other, your love juices mixing.

“Please, Az,” you cried. You’d never been more turned on in your life, the very tip of him nudging against your hole, the promise of pleasure so close you could taste it.

The shadowsinger could barely hold himself back, but he needed to hear you say it. “Tell me what you want,” he commanded, grit in his harsh tone as he began to lose his manners.

“I want you to fuck me,” you replied instantly, inhibitions thrown to the wind. “Please, please— I need you to fuck me, make me cum with your cock, please Az—”

Whatever semblance of restraint the Illyrian had was lost then, his lips pulling back in a desperate snarl. The sound had your legs spreading, your body feeling fuzzy with the overwhelming urge to be filled by him, taken and claimed by him.

Your body sang as he speared the tip inside of you, your cunt stretching around the sizable girth of him. A whimper fell from the male as he lowered his hips, half his cock disappearing into your tight, wet heat. It felt like he was heaven incarnate inside of you, your eyes rolling back and your legs parting wider around his hips, welcoming him deeper inside of you.

Azriel obliged, his balls slapping the wet backside of your thighs as he surged forward. The moan that fell from both your lips was pure sin, your bodies exploding in pleasure as they connected in the deepest, most intimate way, him fully seated inside of you.

Slowly he started to thrust, hips almost shaking at the all-consuming pleasure that was washing over him. He was already fighting his orgasm as he began to find his pace, the moans he was summoning from you urging him to press deeper, harder.

Again and again his hips slapped into yours, burying that impressive length deep within you. The depths he reached made your eyes cross, your pussy squeezing down on him, and your mouth drying from the constant panting he had you victim to.

He was growling into your ear, sweat sticking his hot chest to yours as he exerted himself. The sounds that tumbled from him only made your slickness grow, a wet patch forming beneath your ass as he started slamming into you with reckless abandon.

“Fuck, you look so pretty with my cock inside of you,” Azriel crooned, his face falling so that the bridge of his strong nose skimmed your cheek. It made his breath fall on the crest of your ear, rendering you privy to all the low, delicious noises that slithered out of his mouth. “M’gonna take good care of you, promise…”

Suddenly he pulled out and you wailed at the loss, but he was already flipping you over before you could register what had happened. He yanked you onto your knees, landing a quick slap on your ass before he nudged your legs apart and pushed himself into the new space. His cock dipped into your folds from behind and he loosed a delectable moan as he slid all the way back inside.

From this angle, the tip of him prodded a sacred, uncharted spot that had you shaking, arching your ass onto him and your back bowing in submission. The place he was reaching at the end of your inner walls made you weak, the hard length of him too euphoric for you to handle. He gave a tentative thrust, a hand coming to fist the hair by your scalp, the other weaving around you to tweak a pebbled nipple between his fingers. You sobbed at the newfound intensity, your stomach knotting and your hips sliding back on their own accord, once again seating yourself at the base of his cock.

“You like having me all the way inside, hmm?” he gasped, thrusting deep and hard, the clench of your cunt almost tempting his load straight out of his aching balls.

You gasped an affirmative, each thrust making stars dance on the back of your eyelids. “Yes, ah— yes, deeper— Az!” It must have been your g-spot he was ramming into because you could barely sit upright now, your body nearly collapsing in pure pleasure. “There, oh please right there!”

Azriel’s hand at your chest dove down, a large palm landing right above your womb, right where his cock nestled inside your throbbing cunt. “Here, baby?” He gave a few more thrusts, the very tips of his fingers nudging your engorged clit. “Feel my cock right here, dove? I’m right here inside you, fuck—“

You cried as he continued, ruthlessly pounding into you, the hand in your hair pulling your head back so he could manipulate your body and bend you into the perfect angle to continue hitting that spot.

Again you were rushing toward completion, completely stupefied by the shadowsinger rearranging your guts from behind. The pleasure was too intense— with each thrust his huge, thick cock stretched you to the brim and dragged against that delicious spot deep inside. Sweat dripped down both your bodies, heat and the lewd slap of his wet front against your ass filling the room again and again. His name became the only word you knew, a raspy chant as he brought you closer, closer—

You came with a silent cry, pussy pulling tight and fluttering down onto his hard cock. This orgasm was even stronger than the last, your eyes rolling to the back of your skull as his thrusts slowed, the intensity of your throbbing too great for him to continue his quick pace. Rough fingertips continued to circle your clit, drawing out your euphoria as you slumped into his strong chest, trembling with pleasure.

The Illyrian was fighting every inch of himself not to cum right then, blood tanging on his tongue as he bit the inside of his cheek. He refused to violate your perfect womb with his seed, even if every fiber of his being was screaming with the need to claim you as his. But he would not relent to his desires, not without your permission. And he didn’t want to finish yet, not when this was the highest he had ever felt, sheathed inside your ethereal body. So he clutched onto you and channeled all of himself into supporting your weary frame, rubbing your clit as you floated back to earth.

Once you had ceased twitching, Azriel laid your back onto the sheets again, joining you on his side, adjacent to you. You were still panting as you came back to reality, examining his mussed hair and how it clung to his damp forehead, the flecks of pure gold in his hazel irises, his slick, still-hard cock— a ring of your cream adorning the base of him.

Wordlessly you wiggled closer and kissed him. He moaned in surprise, either at how soft and sweet your kiss was, or at the touch of your small hand wrapping around his aching length. You jerked him slowly, the sound of it absolutely obscene, your thumb grazing over the weeping head where precum had once again begun dripping out. Your back pressed up flush against his chest, guiding his cock to your center and slipping the head into your slit, hips pushing into his.

The shadowsinger’s vulgar moan rung out as your warmth surrounded him again, your nails scraping his scalp. An arm slipped beneath your waist, his grip securing on the opposite hip and fully penetrating you once more. This position had your pussy tighter than before, and his chest shook as he tried to breathe normally, trying to fend off his orgasm. His finger slipped to the back of your head again, this time much gentler than before, just to turn your face and peer into your soul.

Azriel couldn’t find it in himself to thrust, just savoring how your bodies were completely intertwined like this, feeling absolutely one with you and staring deep into your gaze. But you wanted him to cum— needed it, pressing your ass flush onto his hips and clenching tight. The male’s broken growl was his only reply, words failing him. It was he who had planned to drown you in pleasure; he had not been prepared for how incredible you would truly feel, how whole he felt when he was inside of you.

You reached down and cupped his balls, feeling how tight and heavy they were with his seed. Azriel’s teeth grazed your lip at the movement, his body starting to shake with the need to release everything he had deep within you.

“Y/N,” he choked out, hips starting to press tentatively to yours on their own volition.

You studied the desperation on his handsome face, the shake in his thighs at each slow thrust, the dull fingernails that dug into your skin as he clung to you. “Azriel,” you moaned, he was reaching that spot again and rutting into it so slow, hard and precise… you could hardly think as pleasure filled your brain with fog once again. “Please… Need you to cum inside of me.”

Azriel groaned, tongue wrestling with yours and conceding as he began to lose himself in you. His thrusts became slower, sloppier, so you hooked your leg around his and began to arch back into him. The Illyrian began panting, fingers grappling onto your hips.

“This cock is mine,” you purred, repeating his earlier words, your ass slapping back against him harder.

His fingertips were blanching, the sight of his wet length sliding in and out of you from behind as you fucked yourself onto him mesmerizing.

“This cum is mine, too,” you squeezed his balls again and he let out a loud whimper, his orgasm surging forth as he started to meet your thrusts. “Give it to me, fill me up with your cum— fuck Az, need it deep inside me, please.”

He snapped, suddenly hard and fast and deep, a few more snaps of his hips that had you crying for him until— The most pornographic moan sounded for him and he pushed every inch of himself inside of you. His wings fluttered, thighs shaking as he gripped onto you and smushed you into the mattress under his weight. Warmth filled your belly as hot waves of cum spurted deep into your womb, his cock throbbing as you pulsed around him, milking every drop you could get. Sharp teeth lodged into your neck as he emptied himself inside of you, his body trembling with the effort of holding himself up as to not crush you completely.

Sweat dripped from his breathless form onto your back, and you laid there blissfully as you caught your breath. The sheets beneath you were completely ruined, drenched in sweat and slick and cum, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to care; not when Azriel was naked on top of you, cock sheathed all the way in and his cum spilled deep in your womb.

After a minute, the shadowsinger’s dark chuckle sounded from above you, his fingers tracing down your spine. “Naughty little thing,” he murmured, lips brushing your ear before he laid a kiss there.

You smirked, squeezing onto his cock that was still inside of you, retorting “You like it. You like me~”

He growled lowly, nipping you with his teeth. But he nuzzled you then and your heart melted, his lips ghosting over your cheek as he said, “I do. Very much, in fact.”

You whined as he pulled out of you, the loss of him much too noticeable for comfort. But he was right there, turning you onto your back with care, pressing soft kisses into every inch of your sweat-slicked skin. You could feel his release seeping out, the sheer amount of it too great to stay tucked inside where you so desperately wanted it to be.

Azriel gently pulled your legs apart, inspecting the slow stream of creamy white that trickled out of your raw entrance. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to last long enough for you to cum again,” he said, a thumb running down your soaked folds, “I know you were getting there…” He licked his lips as you clenched under his heated gaze, embarrassed that he was outright admiring your most intimate part. Was he seriously apologizing for not giving you a third orgasm? “Allow me to make it up to you, angel.”

The male leaned down and pressed a kiss to each thigh, sliding back onto the foot of the bed and pulling you with him. You shot him an incredulous look as he settled between your legs, lips just inches from your soiled cunt. There was no way he was really about to do this— the mix of your cum with his was spread wide, coating your inner thighs, your pussy, your ass.

His tongue was like lava as he licked at you experimentally, eyes taking note of the shock apparent in your expression. Hazel glinted at you as he began to make out with your ruined center, his seed dripping from you as he made you clench. But he didn’t seem to mind the taste of himself, for he closed his eyes and traced his tongue down to your messy hole, petting you unabashedly, happily, even.

You didn’t think he could get any hotter. But this… this was outright perverted. Your core felt aflame at the sight, his pure enjoyment as he devoured the mixture of your cum like it was the most sacred delicacy. It had you moaning, legs trembling around his head, clit throbbing as he kissed and sucked at the poor bud.

Deft fingers brushed your core and were immediately coated in that same mixture, slick pouring from you as the shadowsinger continued his depraved quest. Two entered you with no warning and your back bowed, the digits instantly searching for that sweet spot as they pushed through the river of his release. A third joined and you released a garbled sob as they found their target.

Azriel, ever the observant one, took note and pummeled the spot relentlessly, knuckles curling as they slid in so they achieved full stimulation. His tongue was flat against your clit, licking you back and forth, and you were so sensitive from your previous orgasms that tears dotted the side of your eyes, your breathing ragged.

“Az, oh Gods— I—,” you mewled, hips squirming as the pleasure became too much. “Please, I can’t, it’s too much!”

But the Illyrian did not stop, would not stop unless he heard your safe word, his fingers picked up speed. “Come on baby, one more. Just one more,” the words vibrated through your cunt as he held you down, palm flat atop your tummy and pressing your sweet spot down so that it was even more vulnerable to his attack. “Trust me, it’s gonna feel so good angel, I swear.” His lips took hold of your abused pearl and he ravished you, his cum squelching as his fingers drove into you without reprieve.

Pressure gathered deep in your core and you whimpered, the intensity of your pleasure so great it was almost painful. You were close— so close to something big, you could feel that it was different from before with the way your cunt leaked and throbbed, the way your entire core felt on fire.

“Please—” you gasped, not even sure what you were pleading for, “Fuck Azriel, please, yes—!”

You screamed as you came, white-hot ecstasy imploding from your center. You nearly lost consciousness, your eyes crossed with utter bliss as liquid sprayed out of you and onto the shadowsinger’s chest. His chin, his torso, your thighs, and sheets, all of it was drenched as you couldn’t stop the squirt from pouring out of you. Fast fingers replaced his mouth and continued rubbing your clit, only slowing once you had ceased squirting.

Your entire body was shaking, toes curled into the filthy sheets, your brain trying to catch up but it was a mile behind your body.

“I’m— Az, I,” you stuttered, attempting to sit up, shock and shame taking root in your chest. The male was completely drenched from the chin down, the sheets beyond salvation. “I never— I’m sorry—“

A towel appeared from his shadows, and he swiftly wiped himself dry before he joined you on the bed, uncaring of the huge damp spot that now lay beneath you two. He shushed you with a kiss, taking your trembling form into his arms, a hand tucking your hair behind your shoulder. His lips were soft, his touch gentle as he tucked you against his chest.

“You have nothing to apologize for. I am so proud of you,” he said quietly, his low voice rumbling in your ear, “You did so well, little dove. Now let me clean you up.” His praise sent a pleasant warmth through your bones, and you curled closer to the male, basking in his embrace.

Secured in his arms, his shadows enveloped the pair of you in darkness, their cool caress whispering on your skin. Then, you were hovering over a large marble bath, steam wafting from the filled basin that Azriel was standing in the middle of. Slowly he lowered the pair of you into the water, holding you tighter when you squeaked at the heat from the water leaching into your tender core. He sat behind you, wings stretched over the lip of the tub, your chest against his back.

Wordlessly he tied your hair back and ran a damp cloth over your skin. You were still coming down from your high, the warmth from the water and the strong male at your back making your eyelids droop, exhaustion ebbing into your body. He held you up and washed your back and then his front, and when you leaned back against him, you somehow found the strength to smirk at the erection evident behind you. You scooted back to brush your ass against him and he growled lowly in your ear. The sound sent shivers through you, and you turned to face him, looping your arms around his neck.

You nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, humming in content. The Illyrian kissed the top of your head, large hands supporting your weight as he lifted you from the water. The soft brush of a towel met your skin and his quiet laugh graced your ears when you refused to separate from him, your wet front clinging to his. Eventually he was able to pry you off of him so that he could fully dry you, but it took many kisses of encouragement and gentle praise.

Finally he placed you onto his bed, the silken sheets welcoming your clean, naked skin and flooding your senses with his strong, woodsy scent. Azriel slipped in beside you, his inked arms wrapping around you as he laid on his side, nose tucked into your hair, covering you under the blankets.

“So, did you fake it?” he whispered in your ear just as sleep was about to take you. He had clearly proven himself, teasing you now that you had experienced his full talents.

You swatted him with what little strength you had left, a lazy smile curling the corner of your mouth. “You’re deplorable,” you said and he laughed, gathering you closer to his chest.

You didn’t know what this night would mean moving forward, but you didn’t have the energy to care at the moment— completely drained from the earth-shattering orgasms the shadowsinger had summoned from you. You had the feeling he didn’t want to question it now, either, not as he held you like you were the most precious thing in the world, not when he had you naked, in his arms, in his bed. So you succumbed to slumber, content to leave the questions for the morning, your heart full and your body completely sated for the first time in your life.

Sometimes you wonder what would have happened if you’d never gotten into that taxi.

What if it hadn’t been raining? Or the cab driver had been different—one who had the path across the city memorized, rather than getting lost after making a wrong turn onto 32nd street? After clambering onto the slick sidewalk, still a little drunk and wishing you weren’t wearing heels, what if you had turned right to head toward Main instead of left toward Adams? What if you had remembered to charge your phone before going out with friends so it wouldn’t have died in the middle of the night? If you had chosen a different bar in your search for a payphone, would you still have met him?

All these questions were pointless, of course. Because you had met him that night, a night which you would later recognize had irrevocably changed your life.

You’d stumbled into the bar at 2:57 AM—you only remembered because it was three minutes before closing and the bartender had given you the look. The I-wish-you-were-never-born look. You hadn’t minded, not really. Even now, you remembered the warm brown color of his eyes as he blankly stared down at you, apparently confused by your half-drunken request to use the store’s phone.

We don’t have one, he’d said.

How do you not have a phone?

The bartender had raised an eyebrow, and it was around this moment you realized he was very, very tall. Almost comically so. Well, I have a phone. You just can’t use it.

Why not?

Because I said so.

You recalled the acute urge to strangle this tall, rude bartender. If you don’t let me borrow your phone I’m going to order one of every single drink on the menu, you’d declared.

The stranger just stared. He’d stared at you like he could see directly through your skin and into your soul, and though you’d itched with the urge to blink, you refused to do so first. A long moment passed, during which your drunken mind was struck by the perfect idea to persuade him.

I’ll fuck you for it.

He’d released a loud, startled laugh, sounding almost as if he hadn’t meant to do it at all. The bartender had laughed and laughed, unable to stop unless he was turned completely away from you. In all honesty, it had hurt your pride.

Once the stranger had mastered himself, he reached into the pocket of his apron and fished out a small, rectangular object. His cellphone, mercifully, and damn you if the sight didn’t make your shoulders slump with relief.

He’d reached a muscular arm across the bar to hand it to you, his shoulders still shaking with barely-restrained laughter. Even shivering with the cold rain in your hair and a hangover already pounding at your temples, you had offered him a genuine, warm smile.

The bartender had smiled back, for the first time looking like he didn’t want to squash you under his shoe.

I’m Wonwoo.

~~~

Three years had passed since the night you first met Jeon Wonwoo.

You couldn’t recall every moment of those years with perfect clarity, but you always remembered that first night. He had let you use his personal cellphone so you could call your roommate for a ride, though it had turned out to be pointless when he didn’t answer. Since you were effectively stranded, you’d sat at the bar alone while Wonwoo closed up, asking him a plethora of questions that he sometimes answered, sometimes didn’t. After that initial smile he’d gone back to treating your presence like a thorn in his side, but he never kicked you out. And much like your abrupt realization that he was tall, you realized sometime around then that Wonwoo was intimidatingly handsome.

When he offered you a ride home himself, you were mostly sober and still very much stranded. It surprised you when he asked his own round of questions during the drive to your apartment, but what surprised you more was that you were honest in your answers. It wasn’t particularly in your nature to open up to a stranger, but what did it matter when he would find out where you lived, anyway?

Wonwoo had parallel parked in front of your apartment building and you’d scribbled your phone number on a napkin before he could argue otherwise. That was also out of character for you, but you had known then that Wonwoo was different. Someone worth getting to know.

You’d been right.

It started as a not-quite friendship. You would have, on a good day, referred to Wonwoo as an acquaintance, only really spending time with him when you needed a ride home after a night out partying. It was the only excuse you could think of to justify seeking him out, especially when he never used the phone number you’d impulsively left for him. He never seemed particularly bothered when you showed up at the bar, though, and he always gave you a ride home.

Then, after about six months of this, you had gotten a text message from an unknown number:

Come out. We’re going to dinner.

Wonwoo’s car had been in its usual spot outside your apartment building, a sight which nearly made your heart fall out of your ass. But you’d done it. You’d gone to dinner with Jeon Wonwoo.

And it was fun. Ridiculously, unexpectedly fun. He was carefree and confident in a way you deeply admired, never seeming to be bothered by anyone or anything. He’d asked you to be his girlfriend two weeks after your first date and you had said yes without a second thought.

You’d loved him. Wonwoo kept the napkin with your hastily scrawled phone number on it stuck to his fridge. He laughed with you and cried with you and kissed you until your lips were swollen and bruised. You frequently wondered what would have happened if you’d gotten in a different cab that first night, then decided it didn’t matter. He made love to you at every available opportunity and worshipped you like you were the sun personified. He was your entire world.

Until six months ago.

You hadn’t heard from him. Not for a while now. As far as you knew, he’d skipped town. You supposed that was normal considering the way you’d blown him off. The second you had seen him sitting on that park bench, fidgeting anxiously with that goddamned velvet ring box in his hand—

Nope. Nope nope nope.

Wonwoo had loved you. Maybe as much as you’d loved him. Enough to ask you to marry him.

But you couldn’t. Wouldn’t.

Regardless, you still loved Jeon Wonwoo almost as much as he hated you.

~~~

You woke up on New Year’s Eve with a nosebleed. Never a good way to start your day but not exactly something that could be helped. You just hoped it wasn’t a bad omen. You stared at your bleary-eyed reflection in the mirror as you stemmed the bleeding and cleaned your face.

Not even ten seconds had passed before someone banged on your bedroom door so hard it rattled in its frame. You rolled your eyes as you crossed your room and yanked it open, still holding a tissue to your nose.

“Mingyu, you realize that I will still answer the door if you knock normally.”

The origin of the incessant banging, your roommate Mingyu, gifted you with a shit-eating grin.

“I was making sure you were up. You don’t pay me to let you sleep until noon.”

“I don’t pay you at all.”

“Still. What happened to your face?”

You shrugged. “Who knows. I just woke up and my nose was bleeding.”

“That’s got to be a bad omen or something.”

You socked him on the shoulder and strode further into your room, catching sight of the sparkly dress hanging off your closet door. “Are you sure this is appropriate for tonight? They’re predicting snow.”

“Are you kidding?” Mingyu plopped onto your bed and punched your pillow until it was an acceptable shape for him to lean on. “It’s a New Year’s Eve party, I think it’s perfect. Maybe you can pick up a hot date or something.”

The last part of his statement was pointed, you both knew it. You shot him a dubious glare and sat next to him on the bed, throwing away your bloody tissue as you did.

“I told you I don’t care about dating right now.”

“I’m not talking about dating. What would be so bad about a hookup?”

You grimaced. “Not interested in that, either.”

Mingyu groaned. You didn’t hold it against him, his attempts to push you back out into the dating pool. He was obviously worried about you, though you hadn’t told him exactly what had gone down with Wonwoo all those months ago. And though he tried to hide it, you knew Mingyu missed Wonwoo just as much as you did. Those two had been partners in crime, once upon a time, but you’d inadvertently ruined that, too.

“I’m not letting you flake out on going with me, you know,” Mingyu said.

You had no intention of doing so. You’d been a bad enough friend to your roommate during the months you’d spent moping in Wonwoo’s absence—ditching your so-called “date” to Chan’s New Year’s party wasn’t an option. Especially when he had stuck by your side through everything.

Mingyu had been your randomly-assigned roommate in college. There had been some glitch in your University’s housing system, hence why you’d wound up with a male roommate, but you didn’t mind. The dorm was at full capacity, anyway, so it wasn’t like you had the option to move.

You weren’t sure when Mingyu became your best friend, though he considered you his after the time you kicked out your blind date for eating Mingyu’s emergency stash of Hot Cheetos. You had been inseparable ever since, opting to live together even after college graduation.

You realized you had never responded to Mingyu’s statement and cleared your throat. “Of course I’m going with you. No one throws parties like Chan.”

Mingyu snorted. “Hopefully no one winds up passed out in the pool this year.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that.”

Chan threw a New Year’s party every year. In college there had always been a few hundred people there throughout the night, though in your adulthood that group had shrunk to a few dozen. But regardless of the size of the party, something ridiculous always happened. A few years ago Soonyoung had drunkenly fainted into the pool after a particularly cutthroat game of strip poker. Last year Wonwoo had sprained his wrist when he decided it was a good idea to jump onto the trampoline from the second-story veranda.

It was the first New Year’s in two years you wouldn’t spend with him. Your heart squeezed at the thought.

As if he could read your mind, Mingyu offered casually, “I’ll kiss you at midnight, if you want.”

You wrinkled your nose. “No thanks, hotshot.”

“Hey now,” he raised his palms defensively, “I’m just trying to be helpful.”

“I know. Thank you.” You meant it. Mingyu was arguably the one person in the world you knew would have your back no matter what.

He groaned as he stood and strode across your room. “Whatever. You only wish you could get some of this.” Mingyu hesitated as he started to close your bedroom door behind him, poking his head through the crack between the door and frame. “Definitely wear that dress. It makes your ass look great.”

He slammed the door shut before you could find something to throw at him.

~~~

            When you got to Chan’s house in the suburbs it was a little past 9:30. Mingyu parked the car on the street, one of many other vehicles here for the same reason you were. You adjusted your dress around your hips as you stepped onto the curb.

It really was pretty. The material was a deep, shimmering gold that hugged your curves in all the right places, scooping low across your back with the skirt stopping just above midthigh. It wasn’t particularly practical for the cold weather but you had faith it would be warm enough inside.

Mingyu bounded up the front steps with the grace of a deer learning to walk, drawing an unbidden smile from you. By the time you reached his side he was banging repeatedly on the front door, the sound nearly drowned out by the chatter of the drunk crowd on the other side.

Your joked, “Maybe no one’s home,” was immediately disregarded when Chan wrenched open the door. Deafening music and party noise filled your ears like a warm wave the second the barrier was removed. Chan’s face was splashed with rosy color, his eyes a little glassy as he grinned. Most definitely drunk, probably had been for a while.

“You made it, thank god,” Chan grabbed yours and Mingyu’s elbows and yanked you inside the house.

“Hell yeah, man, I wasn’t going to miss this.” Mingyu and Chan fist-bumped, laughing in that ridiculous way they only did with each other. You closed the front door behind you as Chan dragged Mingyu off into the crowd, no doubt to ply him with alcohol. You grinned to yourself. Mingyu was so hard-working all the time, he deserved to have fun more than just about anyone.

You didn’t mind that you were left alone. You had been to dozens of parties like this in the past, some of which made the scene before you look tame. It helped, of course, that you already knew almost everyone here. People at Chan’s parties tended to run in the same circles and there were very seldom new additions to the guest list.

You pushed your way towards the kitchen, hunting for alcohol. You waved hello to your friends as you passed them, your warm smile so broad you almost convinced yourself of its authenticity. Just because you were moping didn’t mean anyone else had to share in your post-breakup blues.

Minghao waved at you from beneath the red-haired girl sitting in his lap, his face visibly softening when he saw you. He had been your lab partner in o-chem junior year of college—there were many fond memories of almost setting things on fire between the two of you. Despite your affection for your friend, you pretended not to see his hand beckoning to sit in the living room with him. You needed a shot, fast.

Soonyoung and Jun were having some manner of odd dance-off in the dining room, a sight which made you giggle. Seungcheol was pressing some girl firmly against the wall, kissing her with such passion it seemed as though he wished to swallow her whole. You looked away from that as fast as humanly possible.

By the time you reached the kitchen, Mingyu had a line of four empty shot glasses in front of him and was working on a fifth. The small crowd which had gathered to cheer him on was too distracted to notice when you swiped a bottle of tequila off the counter and took several deep swigs. The burn was glorious as it went down, warming your chest and fingers and toes simultaneously. It was exactly what you needed.

You wiped a trickle of alcohol off your chin with the back of your hand at the same moment Mingyu clapped you on the back.

“Drinking your sorrows?” He shouted over the music. His face was already tinged pink, his smile too wide and a little blurry. Or maybe that was just you.

“Always,” you laughed. You passed Mingyu the tequila bottle as Joshua offered you a glass of whiskey, a single pink feather from the boa around his neck floating in it. You took it anyway.

You reveled in the noise and chaos around you for what could have been minutes or hours. You weren’t much for partying nowadays, but it was nearly impossible not to have fun at one thrown by Chan. It was somehow already 10:45 and people were still showing up.

You kept to the kitchen most of the time, occasionally flitting into the living or dining rooms when you felt motivated to do so. Seokmin had produced a karaoke machine from somewhere and was shouting into the mic with Joshua, his feather boa now around both of their necks.

You took another shot—you had lost count of how many you’d taken, though it was enough to not taste the alcohol as it went down—and spun around, intent to join in on the karaoke. You’d had Careless Whisper stuck in your head for the better part of an hour, anyway. You strode for the doorway that led to the living room, your smile wide and feeling more genuine than it had in weeks—

You froze.

No.

No no no

You cursed the alcohol clouding your mind as you stared at Wonwoo, standing in the center of the living room with a red solo cup in his hand. Even if you hoped he hadn’t seen you, it was already too late. He was staring directly at you, his jaw clenched hard.

Seeing him again like this, when you couldn’t prepare yourself for it, took your goddamn breath away. His hair was longer now, curling into the collar of his shirt. He was as ridiculously tall and handsome as ever, though your memory of him did not do him justice. Wonwoo was beautiful in every sense of the word.

The lights and music dimmed as time slowed. Your vision darkened until all you could see was Wonwoo’s face. A thousand emotions flashed through his eyes, passing too quickly for your drunken mind to focus on one.

Your breaths turned shallow. Panicky. You could only see the image of that ring box in his hands, stuck behind your eyelids like some sick still from a movie.

You did the smartest thing you could think of in the moment.

You turned and ran.

Mingyu was nowhere to be found, his car keys with him, though both of you were certainly too drunk to drive his car anyway. You hardly felt the cold pricking your bare legs and arms as you tore open the front door and shot through it. If anything, the sensation was a welcome one to help clear your mind.

You willed the alcohol to process through your body faster. The shock of seeing Wonwoo already had you half-sober, but your movements were still jerky and uncoordinated as you stumbled onto the sidewalk.

A loud gasp tumbled from your lips when a strong hand grasped your elbow. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. His hand was distractingly warm as he yanked you around to face him, forcing you to stop.

You stared up at Wonwoo, petrified. He glared down at you, his gaze setting your entire body alight.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He no doubt tried to sound cold, but there was an undercurrent of tension in his voice that ruined it. A painful twinge sparked in your chest at the sound of his voice. You’d somehow forgotten the magnitude of his presence in your time apart. The tone which had once whispered sweet praises in your ear and professed his love for you was nowhere to be found now.

“Uhm… home?”

“You’re drunk.”

Despite your panic, you grinned. “Astute observation.”

Wonwoo released your elbow like you’d burned him. You swayed, abruptly dizzy as you mourned the loss of contact. “Go back in the house,” he bit out. “You’re too drunk to walk home and it’s freezing outside.”

You stared for a moment, at a loss for words. You finally settled on, “I’m sorry. If I’d known you’d be here I wouldn’t have come.”

Wonwoo’s gaze darkened. “Why?”

“What?”

“Why wouldn’t you have come?”

It seemed so obvious to you. This was no longer a world where you and Wonwoo fit in the same room. Rather than answer his question, you took a wary step back.

“I should go home.”

“Absolutely not.” Wonwoo’s tone was firm. A bolt of indignation speared through you at his assumption you would still listen to anything he said. He seemed to notice the rebellion in your eyes because he insisted slowly, “You’re obviously drunk. Even if it wasn’t freezing outside you’re in no condition to walk yourself home.”

He was right, though you had no intention of telling him so. “Mingyu is waiting for me at the convenience store down the street,” you lied.

Wonwoo crossed his muscled arms over his chest, a slight smile quirking his lips. God, you’d forgotten how big he was. “Mingyu is playing spin the bottle in the living room with the others. If I’m not mistaken, he was trying to bargain his way out of kissing Jeonghan when I left.”

You just stared. What could you possibly say to that? He obviously knew you were lying.

Wonwoo sighed abruptly, his arms falling back to his sides in a fake show of nonchalance. You would have believed it if not for his hands clenched into white-knuckled fists at his hips. “Just go back to the party, okay? If you’re that uncomfortable with seeing me then I’ll leave.”

He turned to walk back towards the house and you surged forward before you could stop yourself. Your brain was still fogged with alcohol, but you were all too aware of your hand clasped around his forearm to stop him.

Wonwoo’s nostrils flared as he looked down at your point of contact, almost like he couldn’t believe you were willingly touching him. Or maybe he was disgusted by it, you couldn’t really tell.

“You don’t have to leave,” you insisted quickly, not completely sure why you bothered. “I’ll go. I’ll just call an Uber or something.” You offered him what you hoped was a reassuring smile. Perhaps it was the drunkenness still obvious on your face, but Wonwoo didn’t seem to believe you in the slightest.

It was at that moment the sky chose to release a very poorly-timed clap of thunder, the sound close enough to make your bones sing. You groaned inwardly. Thunder during a snowstorm was rare enough on its own—your nosebleed this morning had definitely been a bad omen.

Wonwoo’s face shuttered, suddenly resolute in whatever silent choice he’d made in his head. “That’s it.” He used the grip you still had on his arm to tug you back towards Chan’s house. “If you’re so dead-set on leaving, I’m driving you home.”

Panic closed your throat, tight and fast. “No.”

Something akin to hurt flashed across Wonwoo’s face. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m not going to let you corner me in the car for some sort of stupid interrogation.”

Wonwoo wrenched his arm from your grasp quickly enough that you stumbled. He spun to face you, a muscle feathering erratically in his jaw. “Have you stopped to think that maybe I just want to drive you home because it’s cold and about to snow and you’re wearing fucking lingerie as clothing?”

That brought you up short. Fury crackled in Wonwoo’s eyes, the heat of it matched only by the fire in your own.

“Feeling possessive, are we?” You spat. “You have no right—”

“I guess I don’t, do I? You decided that all on your own.” Wonwoo’s words had lost some of their bite. You stared at him, your rapidly-sobering mind reeling as you tried to decipher his expression.

Sadness. That was sadness in his eyes. The fact that you were the cause of it made your heart swoop into your stomach.

“I’m sorry, Wonwoo.” You hadn’t meant to say the words, but there they were. His jaw flexed again at the sound of his name on your lips. “You… you deserve better than me. You always did.”

He shook his head before you’d even finished speaking. “No, I don’t.”

This time, when he took hold of your wrist to lead you back to Chan’s house, his touch was gentle. Somehow, it was a thousand times worse than the bruising grip he’d had on you earlier.

You walked together in careful silence, each of you too afraid to shatter the illusion of peace which had temporarily settled between you. One wrong move, wrong look, risked sending you into a screaming match.

You were only half surprised when Wonwoo strode past the walkway that led to Chan’s house, instead making for his car parked down the street. It was directly behind Mingyu’s. Your eyes flickered to the back of Wonwoo’s head where he walked a step in front of you. That would mean… he knew you were here when he arrived. He’d known you were inside and still chose to go in.

“I need to tell Mingyu that I’m leaving. He’ll throw a hissy-fit if—”

“I already did.” Wonwoo opened the passenger door for you, pointedly looking anywhere other than your face as you lowered yourself into the car. “I texted him the second you ran.”

Ran. Yeah, that little episode was going to be embarrassing tomorrow.

Wonwoo’s car smelled exactly as you remembered it. Woody and masculine, an undercurrent of your perfume staining the leather seats, even after all these months. Yet another sensory detail to break your heart.

You didn’t have to direct him back to your apartment building. He drove in silence, his fingers clenched so hard around the wheel his knuckles paled under the strain. You very deliberately ignored the way his forearms flexed as he drove, his sleeves rolled up to the elbow.

It was all too easy to pretend it was six months ago. The dark car, the scent of Wonwoo invading your nostrils, the careful silence; if you tried hard enough, you could convince yourself nothing had happened. It was just like old times—you had spent the night bothering Wonwoo at the bar, now he was driving you home and sneaking glances at you from the corner of his eye. There were no painful emotions save the secret yearning for one another neither of you wanted to express.

You cracked your knuckles nervously as Wonwoo pulled the car to a stop in front of your building. He leaned forward in his seat so he could peer through the windshield, his hands still clasped on the wheel.

“It looks the same,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “I don’t know why I expected it to be different.”

You swallowed thickly. “Do you… want to come up?”

He was quiet for a long moment. “I shouldn’t. I thought seeing you would help, but… fuck, I don’t know.” Wonwoo rubbed a hand over his jaw and glanced over at you, a strange glint of amusement in his eyes. “I was hoping that you were doing poorly, you know.”

“You were?”

“I thought it would make me feel better, to see you suffering. Turns out that backfired.”

You felt like a broken record, your only available words coming in the form of questions. “Why?”

“Because you aren’t suffering. You aren’t sick or ugly or depressed. You’re just…” You felt the stricken expression on your face without having to see it. “You’re still as beautiful as the day you left me.”

You closed your eyes. You were no longer tipsy enough to feel numb and with each passing second you questioned how you had managed to find yourself in this situation.

“Come up, Wonwoo. We can talk.”

He was shaking his head before you even finished speaking. “Just go. Please.” He flexed his fingers on the steering wheel, his knuckles a glaring white. “I’ll let Mingyu know you got home safely.”

Even if you wanted to move, you couldn’t. Your muscles locked, your hands folded tightly in your lap. Perhaps you subconsciously wished to prolong this stolen moment with Wonwoo as long as you could.

“If there were anything I could say to take your pain away, I would.” You could feel the scalding heat of Wonwoo’s gaze on your face without looking at him. “Just know that I’m sorry. I think I will be for the rest of my life.”

“Did you even have a reason?” His tone was abruptly harsher than before and you flinched. “We were doing fine. Better than fine, I thought. We had breakfast like normal, you went to work like normal, we were supposed to meet in the park for lunch, then–nothing. I got home and all your stuff was gone.”

Hearing it aloud like that, especially from his perspective… guilt gripped your throat like a vise. What you’d said a moment ago was all too true: there was no way to explain your commitment issues in a way that would make him feel better.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated weakly. There was a distant throbbing in your temples, a sure sign of your approaching hangover. You mercifully regained control of your muscles and shouldered the door open, frigid winter air prickling your bare skin. The scent of snow hung heavy in the air.

You had barely reached your full height on the curb when the sound of Wonwoo’s door opening and slamming nearly made you jump out of your skin. For what had to be the third time tonight, he grabbed your elbow and spun you around to face him. You tried not to cower at the way he towered over you, his expression nothing short of seething.

“Tell me why,” he hissed, his tone half pleading and half a curse. You opened and closed your mouth several times, unable to speak. What did he expect you to say? You could hardly think around the proximity of his face to yours—it had been over six months since the last time you were within kissing distance of Wonwoo. Now, the possibility was so dizzying you were struck dumb.

You stared up at him, wide-eyed. His face was a conundrum of sharp angles and delicate features, made harsher by the passion written across it. Maybe you were still a little drunk, because you lifted a hand to drift your fingertips across his cheekbone before you could stop yourself. You hadn’t realized how much you missed his glasses until this moment.

Almost like it was on instinct, Wonwoo’s eyes fluttered closed at your touch. His skin was fire-hot beneath the pads of your fingers. You were certain the two of you would look ridiculous to any random passerby but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. At some point one of his broad arms had encircled your waist, his forearm trapping you to his chest as you timidly explored his features.

Heaven. Touching Wonwoo was nothing short of heaven. And by some miracle, despite his fury with you, his hurt, he was allowing you to continue.

“I saw the ring,” you whispered, hardly more than a breath of air moving.

Wonwoo’s eyes snapped open. “What did you say?”

You swallowed. “That day at the park. I was walking up from behind you and… I saw the box in your hands.” His face further paled with each word that left your mouth. “You looked terrified and I… I couldn’t let you down like that.”

Wonwoo’s fingers curled around your wrist and pulled your hand away from his face, though he didn’t release you. And to your intense surprise, he began to laugh. It was a sharp sound, like he didn’t really find it funny at all, but you had no time to process the sound before Wonwoo crushed his lips to yours.

For a moment, you were simply frozen. Wonwoo’s mouth was starkly warm compared to the winter air around you, the feel of it as familiar to you as your own. Snowflakes had just begun to drift in the air around you, getting caught in his dark hair and eyelashes before turning to slush.

His hands moved so they gripped your hip bones, pulling you further into his heat. His jeans scratched against your upper thighs, and it was that sensation that made you realize you were kissing Wonwoo back. Your lips moved demandingly against his, your mouths and teeth and tongues dancing together. He kissed you like you were the cure he’d been searching for, you returning the fervor as if he were the very air you breathed.

Completely by accident, a whimper escaped your throat. The sound was tight and breathless, one you hadn’t made for anyone or anything since Wonwoo. He groaned low in his chest and it sent warmth pooling straight to your core.

You raked your cold fingers through his hair at the base of his neck. You enjoyed its length far more than you thought you would—like this, it was long enough to tug at the root and draw more pretty moans from him. You clenched around nothing each time he did so, your mind laser-focused on the hard length you felt pressing insistently into your lower stomach. It was another thing you’d failed to recall about Wonwoo—after six months of his absence, you severely doubted he would fit. It had taken months to adjust you to his size the first time.

Wonwoo bit down on your lower lip and roughly sucked, forcing another moan from you. It was intoxicating, kissing him. His large hands groped your ass, your lower back, your ribcage; no matter where he touched you, it was never enough for him. He kissed you with the desperation of a man starved.

Which was why when he abruptly pulled away, his lips kiss-bitten and expression wild, you unabashedly whined. Wonwoo stared down at you, his chest heaving. His hair was spiked in strange directions where you had run your hands through it, the top three buttons of his shirt somehow undone.

He averted his eyes at the same moment you did. You feared one wrong look would send you both back into the frenzy and a snowy sidewalk was not the place for it. Wonwoo met your eyes again, some unspoken words contained within them that you couldn’t begin to decipher. He looked like he wanted to throttle you as much as he wanted to kiss you again and, if you were being completely honest, you weren’t sure which you’d prefer.

Without another word, Wonwoo spun on his heel and marched back to the other side of his car. You silently begged him to hesitate—to turn back and pounce on you again. The part of your brain crazed by lust wanted him to take his anger out on your body more than you wanted to breathe.

He did no such thing. Wonwoo didn’t spare you another glance before he slammed the driver’s side door shut behind him and sped off, the car almost instantly consumed by exhaust and snowfall.

Later, you would not be able to recall how long you stood there, frozen on the sidewalk. You stared after him, your breaths shallow, until painful chills rose on your skin and your teeth began to chatter.

What the hell had you done?

~~~

You couldn’t sleep.

You tossed and turned for hours, met with the image of Wonwoo kissing you every time you dared close your eyes. The taste of him still lingered in your mouth, the feel of his skin tingling on the tips of your fingers. The new year came and went, and you realized that Wonwoo had wound up being your midnight kiss, after all.

It was close to 3:30 in the morning when you decided you couldn’t stand it anymore. Mingyu still wasn’t home—he likely wouldn’t be until after dawn, and you doubted you could take another second of the silence without him. You’d walked into your apartment alone and stone-cold sober, a fact which didn’t help with the empty ache in the center of your chest.

After finally managing to pull your feet free of the sidewalk, you hadn’t bothered to remove your party dress before you fell into bed. It wasn’t the most comfortable sleepwear in the world, but you’d been too dejected to mess with it.

You rolled out of bed, annoyance prickling the backs of your eyes. You knew you had no right to be frustrated, not after what you did to him, but you couldn’t understand how Wonwoo could just leave like that. The second he’d pulled away from you he looked as though he’d seen a ghost.

You left a living room lamp on for Mingyu and shoved your feet into a pair of tennis shoes, running your fingers through your hair by way of brushing it. You didn’t dare look at your reflection in the mirror as you shrugged on a coat—looking a bit unhinged was probably appropriate for what you were about to do, anyway.

The drive was quiet, only the sound of your car and the drifting snowflakes outside to keep you company. The roads were mercifully empty, for the most part, save a few stragglers making their way home after their own New Year’s Eve celebrations.

When you arrived at Wonwoo’s apartment, you sat in your car for what felt like an eternity, contemplating if you should risk going up or not. He probably wouldn’t be happy to see you—hell, you wouldn’t be happy to see you.

“Fuck it,” you whispered to yourself. You had to try. You’d regret it for the rest of your life if you didn’t. The walk to Wonwoo’s front door was mechanical, your body running on pure muscle memory. An odd sort of nerves quickened your heartbeat as you stopped on the mat. He hadn’t gotten a new one since you left. You had bought his welcome mat as a joke a year and a half ago, an ugly monstrosity that read I’ll only answer for Girl Scouts that he insisted wasn’t funny.

You knocked twice and stepped back, your arms crossed tightly over your chest. You should just go home. He didn’t want to see you again, that much was obvious from the way he left you earlier. Yet for some reason, you couldn’t force yourself to walk away.

You waited for long enough that you thought he wouldn’t open the door. Maybe he was asleep—the thought he wasn’t kept awake by the memory of kissing you the way you were sent embarrassment flooding your veins. You had just turned to leave when the door swung open, and all you could do was stare.

Wonwoo didn’t react to your presence, seemingly unsurprised to find you on his doorstep. His gaze was hard, faint shadows staining his undereyes behind his glasses. His hair stuck up straight on one side, a sure sign he had been tossing and turning the same way you had been. All the words that had been building in your throat during the drive here dissipated into nothing at the sight of him.

He wordlessly stepped aside to let you in and damn you if your expression didn’t crumple with relief. His scent enveloped you as you entered and your heart lurched. You stopped in the open kitchen and turned to face him, your arms still protectively crossed over your chest. He mirrored your stance, his gray sleep shirt pulled tight across his shoulders.

“I don’t know why I’m here,” you choked out at last. It wasn’t exactly a lie, you realized. You weren’t really sure why you had bothered to come here—the only thing you knew was that being in his absence felt akin to dying at the moment.

“You shouldn’t be,” he said flatly. The expression on his face was very carefully neutral, a sort of coldness that didn’t suit him at all.

Your heart sank. “I know. I’m sorry, I just… I’m so sorry.” You weren’t making any sense, but it didn’t really matter.

Wonwoo released a deep sigh and sank into a bar stool at his kitchen island. He massaged his jaw with a hand, his eyes flickering between your face and a point over your head.

“When you didn’t show up to the park, I thought the worst had happened.” His voice was tense and he hesitated. You held your breath while he collected his thoughts, trying your best to allow him room to think. “What if you had gotten into an accident? Or there was an emergency with Mingyu or your family and you couldn’t contact me? I had already started thinking about what my hobby would be in prison if someone had hurt you.” He smiled bitterly to himself.

“I got home and everything you had left here over the years was gone. I would’ve thought you were a dream if it weren’t for the smell of your damn perfume all over everything. Two weeks later I saw you walking downtown with Mingyu and Hao.” Your breath caught. You knew exactly which night he was referring to. Your friends had forced you out of the apartment when they tired of watching Dirty Dancing on repeat. “You looked… fine.” Wonwoo’s voice dripped with disbelief. “You laughed at something Minghao said and followed him into a bar. Why were you fine? How did you manage it so quickly?”

When you spoke, your voice was hoarse. “I didn’t. I was pretending, even tonight at the party.”

Wonwoo nodded distantly. “Me too. The second I saw Mingyu’s car I thought I was going to go insane. If you had brought someone else to Chan’s…” he cleared his throat. “I still can’t think about it. When I saw you inside I thought my heart would fall out of my ass.”

Despite yourself, you giggled. Wonwoo tossed a dirty look in your direction which you returned with a small smile. If only he knew.

“Anyway, I…” Wonwoo trailed off and reached into his pocket. Your heart ceased beating completely as he set a small velvet box on the counter between you. “Open it.” When you remained frozen, he urged softly, “Go on.”

After a moment of hesitation, you reached out. The crushed velvet was soft beneath your fingertips, warm from being in Wonwoo’s pocket for so long. You took a deep breath, held it, and at last opened the box.

Inside was a key.

You would have sworn in that moment the entire world came crashing down around you. The key was small and a burnished gold, Wonwoo’s apartment number engraved on the rectangular handle.

God, you were a fucking idiot.

Wonwoo cleared his throat. “Since you didn’t respond to any of my attempts to reach you, I couldn’t ask you what happened. I would have been able to explain myself to you.” He stood and approached you slowly, moving as if he wished not to frighten you. You only became aware your cheeks were glistening when Wonwoo took your face in his hands and wiped your tears away with his thumbs.

“I’m not ready to get married, baby. And I’d like to think I know you well enough by now to know you aren’t either.” Wonwoo took another deep breath, his eyes unreadable. “I was going to ask you to move in with me that day. I had no idea it would drive you to break up with me, though.”

Your teeth chattered, likely with nerves as much as the cold. You couldn’t believe what a fool you were. Even more than that, an ass.

Ever so slowly, Wonwoo kissed each corner of your lips, his hands still braced on your jaw. Gradually, beneath the heat of his touch, your jaw ceased its chattering. You remained perfectly still, not completely sure what you were supposed to do.

“Tell me,” he began lowly. “Are you really sorry?”

You nodded hastily. You wished there were a way to express it so that he would never doubt its truth. “I’ve never been so sorry in my life.”

“Do you even know how much you hurt me, baby?” Wonwoo breathed, his tongue ghosting over a tear that had escaped your eye before it could fall. A shudder worked through your body. “Mind if I return the favor?”

You froze. You had no idea what he meant, but you still didn’t move when Wonwoo’s lips pressed gently against yours. He kissed you softly, delicately, like you were something he would break if he wasn’t careful. If your kiss earlier had been fire, this was frost.

You kissed him back, allowing your arms to rest over his shoulders as you rose onto your toes for better access. Wonwoo watched you through hooded eyes as his tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring and tasting as if he hadn’t done it a thousand times before.

He pried the key from your cold fingers and set it gently on the counter without removing his lips from yours. You hardly noticed. Though Wonwoo was moving at an excruciatingly slow pace, there was a heat building in your stomach that demanded your complete attention.

Each time you tried to kiss him more intensely or grind your hips against his, he drew away. It was infuriating, this game he played, and after several minutes you released a shameless whine into his mouth. Your hands drifted from his shoulders and down his chest until your fingers found the hem of his shirt. He shivered when your fingertips ghosted across the muscled strip of skin below his navel.

Enough playing.

Your lips curled into a smile against his at the same moment you palmed his impressive length through his pants, already half-hard. It snapped whatever internal leash he’d been holding on himself.

In one swift movement, Wonwoo grabbed your ass hard enough to bruise and yanked you off the ground. You gasped sharply, your legs instinctively wrapping around his hips as he used one arm to sweep everything off the island behind you. He didn’t give you a chance to collect yourself before his lips crashed against yours again, far more demanding than before.

His tongue invaded your mouth with an urgency that drew short pants from your throat. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t seem to catch your breath. You barely noticed when he ripped his glasses off and tossed them onto the counter beside you. His hands were everywhere. In your hair, on your face, your throat—he shoved his fingers beneath your coat and yanked it off your shoulders, nearly popping a button in the process.

He groaned, the sound a near growl, when he saw your dress beneath it. He pulled away to admire you and you gasped shallow breaths, the sudden access to oxygen making your head spin. His long fingers toyed with one of the straps, simultaneously undressing you with his eyes.

“This fucking thing,” he muttered roughly. “Who did you wear this slutty thing for?”

God, you were so wet you could feel your slick halfway down your thighs. If Wonwoo pulled the hem of your dress any higher he would see. You breathed at last, “You, baby. Only you.”

Wonwoo made an appreciative noise and allowed his mouth to drift over yours, his lips parted just enough to allow your tongue past them. He gave you no warning before his hand dove beneath your dress. His fingertips pushed against your entrance over your panties and you writhed, not caring how desperate you seemed.

He took his time, much to your dismay. His fingers trailed over your slit, flimsy lace still separating skin from skin, and down your inner thighs. Wonwoo released a shaky sigh when he discovered how drenched you were, your only sign that he was exerting an insane amount of self-control not to fuck you. His thumb pressed down briefly on your clit and you jolted at the bolt of heat that speared through you.

His other hand lifted to grip the back of your neck, holding you in place as you squirmed. “God, I missed this,” he said into your mouth. “You think this pussy still remembers me?” You were so hyper-focused on his hand between your legs that you couldn’t manage to respond.

At last, his fingers nudged your panties to the side. Your body locked as his middle finger circled your soaked entrance once, then sank inside. You loosed a shuddering breath of relief at the sensation, your pussy tensing and unintentionally sucking his finger deeper. Wonwoo hissed with approval.

His eyes burned with lust as he began to pump his finger in and out of you, watching every micro-change in your expression through half-closed lids. You moaned readily for him, not only to motivate him to continue, but because after six months of celibacy your body felt like a live wire.

He smoothly inserted another finger with the first and you whimpered softly.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he growled, his voice so laden with desire he hardly sounded like himself. “You haven’t fucked anyone else, have you?”

You clasped the back of his neck in a hand, mostly to keep your shaking body from falling off the counter. “Never, no one else.”

Despite the show he was putting on for you, you felt Wonwoo’s body marginally relax at that.

Wonwoo moved his hand that was on your neck to your chest and forced your body down until you laid flat on the counter. His fingers increased their pace inside of you and curled, each thrust bumping your g-spot and drawing lewd moans from your throat.

He bent over you and tugged at the roots of your hair until you had no choice but to look at him. It was a monumental effort to keep your eyes open, especially when his thumb began moving over your clit in time with his fingers. “You will not cum, do you hear me?” He commanded softly. You clenched hard around his fingers. “Say it.”

“I won’t cum,” you gasped out. “I won’t cum, I swear it.”

Wonwoo’s answering smile made you whimper. “That’s my girl.”

He pulled his fingers out of you and shoved your dress up your body, barely giving you time to help him in getting it all the way off. You only half noticed the sound of lace tearing as he ripped your panties off you and, since your dress didn’t allow you to wear a bra, you laid on the counter completely bare to him in less than ten seconds flat.

Wonwoo pressed his hard length against your pussy, the roughness of his pants against your overheated skin making your eyes roll back into your head. His fingers curled around your throat and squeezed at the same moment he tapped your lower lip with the ones that had just been inside you. Your lips parted immediately and you fought the urge to gag when his fingers sank into your throat to the knuckle.

You sucked greedily, reveling in the deep flush that crept up Wonwoo’s throat and onto his cheeks at the sight. He was teetering on the edge of a cliff, you could tell. One wrong move and he would dive off of it.

You moaned softly as he sank to his knees and roughly tugged your hips further off the edge of the counter.

He pressed a kiss to the inside of your knee. “You’re going to take what I give you, do you understand?”

You knew better than to respond nonverbally. “Yes, sir.”

Wonwoo groaned deep in his throat and dragged his tongue up the inside of your thigh. He repeated the action on your other leg, eagerly cleaning any of your slick that remained there. You were quivering with tension, your body so tightly wound that you worried your muscles would snap.

When Wonwoo’s full lips at last closed around your clit you thought you would pass out. Your hand immediately shot into his hair, your nails scratching at his scalp as you wantonly moaned. He made expert work of you, his tongue licking several stripes up your slit and circling around your fluttering entrance.

You couldn’t even look at him for fear of cumming. The one time you did, you nearly plummeted off the edge. His eyes were closed, that same pretty blush staining his cheeks and climbing to his hairline. Wonwoo couldn’t stop moaning into you, the vibrations shooting up your spine and curling white-hot in your belly.

“You taste so fucking good, baby,” he cooed, his condescending tone completely at odds with his praise. “Even better than I remember.”

Your hips ground against his face, desperately seeking your orgasm even though he’d instructed you not to cum. Wonwoo plunged two of his fingers into your heat without easing you into it this time and you released a tight cry. The burn of the stretch was glorious; you had the thought that if he removed his fingers you might very well die. He scissored you opened roughly, any gentleness now out the window as lust clouded his brain completely.

You rocketed higher, your body shaking and pulsing completely out of your control. Wonwoo suckled your clit in tandem with his fingers pumping in and out of you, his pace so brutal that stars flickered behind your eyelids.

“Please, Wonwoo---pleasepleaseplease,” you babbled senselessly. “So good, baby, you—ah—I’m gonna cum—”

All at once, Wonwoo stopped.

You whined defiantly, your eyes snapping open as he pulled his fingers out of you. His hand grasped your jaw hard, forcing you to meet his gaze. He met your furious expression with a saccharine smile.

“Be a good girl, now,” he said sweetly. He licked every bit of you off his fingers, obviously enjoying the way you panted at the action. Wonwoo pressed his lips to yours and pulled away before you could deepen the kiss. “You don’t cum until I say you can.”

Your head fell back onto the counter, your denied orgasm still thrumming through your veins. You saw now what he intended to do. You had hurt him, so he would hurt you. Wonwoo planned to draw this out as long as he possibly could, no matter how you begged.

You snapped back to attention at the sensation of his clothed cock on your center. Your eyes fell to your point of contact, both of you completely enraptured by the sight as your slick stained his pants. When you risked looking at his face, Wonwoo was biting his lower lip so hard you were surprised he didn’t draw blood.

He thrust against you gently, ever-so-slowly forcing you back up the climb to your orgasm. Wonwoo braced his hands on either side of your waist, the veins in his forearms bulging as his arms shook.

“You look so damn pretty like this,” he muttered, almost to himself. His cock strained against his pants, practically begging to be freed as he ground against you. If he wasn’t inside of you soon you were very sure you’d go insane.

You rolled your hips on him and he’d finally reached his breaking point. Anticipation thrummed through you as he yanked his t-shirt over his head, at last revealing his perfect torso. Even after all this time, you couldn’t believe the way he was built. His skin glistened with a light sheet of sweat, only accentuating his muscled pecs and abs.

He took one of your nipples into his mouth and sucked hard while he shoved his pants down his legs. Your fingers tangled in his hair again at the sensation, offering him whispered praises while he left a smattering of love-bites across your chest.

Wonwoo paid no mind to his hard cock as it rested on your pelvic bone, instead kneading your breasts in his large hands and showing your other nipple the same attention as the first. His hips thrusted, pushing his dick through your folds, almost as if the action was unintentional. The friction was driving you wild and you moaned for him, your orgasm just barely out of reach.

He continued sucking your nipple as one of his hands snaked between you, his fingers resuming their earlier effort to prep you. The thought made your mouth go dry. Not for the first time tonight, you wondered how your body would respond to his impressive size.

Just the scissoring of his fingers made you squirm, adrenaline and endorphins making your vision go hazy. This time, his denial of your orgasm was likely unintentional as he extracted his fingers from you.

He lined the head of his cock up with your entrance, stopping once it had fitted itself inside just enough to stay there. Your tight ring of muscle pulsed, desperate to have him inside. Still, he didn’t move, just staring at you as if he worried you would vanish into thin air.

Then he began to push in. And in. And in. You both gritted your teeth, pain and pleasure seamlessly mixing as he attempted to fit his cock into you. The months without him had not done well for your ability to accommodate him.

Tears stung behind your eyes and you released a half moan, half cry. “It hurts, Wonwoo.” Your fingers clasped the back of his neck, pulling him down until his face was just over yours.

He grimaced but didn’t look away from your face, seemingly enamored by your pained, blissed out expression.

“You can take it.” He pressed a swift kiss to the corner of your eye. So slowly, Wonwoo continued to work himself into you, thrusting gently and barely gaining any depth on each pass. You panted into one another’s mouths, both of your lips parted as pleasure consumed your bodies. It hurt like fucking hell, but you would be damned if he tried to stop.

All at once your walls gave way.

Wonwoo sank into you to the hilt, your hips pressed flush against each other. You released simultaneous sighs of relief at the pressure that was immediately eased. His forehead fell against yours and he let out a shaky, quiet laugh, obviously pleased at the way you managed to take all of him.

“Atta girl,” he whispered and rewarded you with another kiss.

He began to thrust and immediately that tight ball began to form again in your stomach. You moaned senselessly, recklessly, begging him to go deeper and faster and not to stop all in the same breath.

Wonwoo grunted with each thrust, the head of his cock knocking into your g-spot over and over again.

“So fucking tight,” he groaned in your ear. You clenched around him and he released his first true moan of the night. He had to be careful—the tight, wet heat of you had driven him to the edge of orgasm so fast he genuinely feared he would cum before you. It was obvious to you that he wouldn’t last long; his gaze was laser-focused on the spot he drove into you, that same muscle in his jaw spasming repeatedly.

“Wonwoo, please—” you raked your fingernails across his shoulders as you whined, if only as a way to ground yourself. “I want to cum on your cock, please let me—”

“Desperate, baby?” Whatever tone he’d tried to achieve in his taunt was lost by the pleasure laced through his voice. He increased his pace, thrusting into you hard enough that he pushed you further onto the counter. Wonwoo grabbed your ankles and threw your legs on his shoulders—he somehow reached even deeper in this position, deep enough you thought you might be split in half—

Your high began to crest out of nowhere—

Wonwoo pulled out.

You let out a terse cry, your walls fluttering around nothing as you mourned the loss of yet another orgasm.

“You fucking asshole—”

Wonwoo cut you off when he literally threw you over his shoulder and smacked your ass hard enough to sting. You protested the entire way to his bedroom, both pleased and a little concerned when you saw angry red lines where you’d scratched his back earlier.

He tossed you onto the bed and wasted no time positioning himself behind you. “When you cum—” he pulled you up by your throat so you were both on your knees, your back pressed tight to his chest “—I want you to land somewhere soft when you pass out.”

He entered you again in one smooth thrust, your walls now so drenched and plush that he sank in easily. Wonwoo thrust mercilessly, his pace brutal and hard and perfect. You ground your hips back into him, your hand rising to cover his where his fingers squeezed the sides of your throat with expert pressure. Your head felt light as a cloud, your vision swimming in and out of focus at the lack of oxygen.

Your head fell back onto his shoulder and his fingers found your clit, rubbing quick, precise circles onto the bundle of nerves. Your orgasm rose and rose and rose—surely you couldn’t last much longer.

Wonwoo pressed a fierce kiss to your brow and moaned in your ear as his thrusts became more erratic. “Cum,” he commanded.

And you were gone. Your orgasm streaked through you like a lightning bolt, your vision failing completely as your pussy clenched so hard that Wonwoo was forced to stop thrusting. He loosed a shuddering moan into your ear, raising goosebumps on your scalp, as he too found his release. He came inside of you in thick, hot spurts, his cum trapped inside your walls by the sheer girth of his cock.

Between your walls and his cock pulsing in response to the other, both of your orgasms were drawn out to the point of pain. Each time you began to come down, his dick twitched against your g-spot and started the process all over again. At some point, much to your embarrassment, you proved Wonwoo right when you slumped against him for several seconds, completely oblivious. He held you through it, whispering sweet praises in your ear and tracing gentle shapes over your bare abdomen.

At last, you both came back to earth. He pulled his softening cock out of you and you both whimpered at the sudden loss. For a long moment though, you just remained like that—both on your knees, his arms wrapped protectively around you as you caught your breath.

You turned your head and smiled softly into the kiss Wonwoo gave you. “Stay here,” he murmured. He was only gone for a moment, during which time you laid completely on the bed and basked in the post-orgasm bliss and the ache between your thighs. When he returned, it was with a warm wash-cloth and glass of water in hand.

He cleaned you up quietly as you drank the water he gave you. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him even if you wanted to. You were so completely enamored by the sight of him—surely there was no man more perfect in the world than this one.

“I truly am sorry, Wonwoo. There’s no excuse—”

“I get it,” he said, cutting you off. You swallowed thickly. “I just wish you would have talked to me. We could have avoided this whole mess in the first place.”

“I know. I want—I mean, if you want… Fuck.” You rubbed your eyes with the heels of your hands, frustrated with your inability to speak. “That is, if you’ll still have me—”

Wonwoo cut you off again, this time with a harsh kiss to your lips that almost left you moaning and ready for him again. He stared intensely into your eyes, the warm brown color of his bathing you in comfort.

“You’re mine, baby,” he said confidently. “That didn’t change when you ran away and it certainly doesn’t change now.”

You nearly slumped with relief. You shared an abruptly shy smile with Wonwoo which he returned, one only meant for one another. He glanced over at the clock on his nightstand that read 5:15.

He shrugged lightly, the muscles in his powerful shoulders shifting. “I think some people would consider this a good time for breakfast. Hungry?” You nodded lightly, unable to rid yourself of the smile on your face. “I think I have pancake mix around here somewhere.”

You greedily watched his bare ass as Wonwoo pulled on a pair of sweatpants and left his bedroom. When he returned, it was with your phone and his gray t-shirt from earlier. You gratefully pulled on the latter and accepted the thousandth affectionate kiss Wonwoo had given you tonight.

He left again to cook breakfast, leaving you to smile at the empty doorway like a lovesick idiot. You shook your head to clear it as you turned on your phone, waiting for it to boot back up.

You knew it would take time and patience with Wonwoo. You had hurt him in a way that many wouldn’t forgive, yet somehow you were lucky enough that he understood and loved you anyway. You truly hoped that when the day came for Wonwoo to actually propose, you wouldn’t react like such a goddamn coward.

The smell of pancakes filled the apartment as your phone finally lit up, among the living once again. Immediately, a string of texts filled your screen, all of which were from Mingyu. They varied in subject and capitalization, but the most recent three made you laugh out loud.

U so got laid, didn’t u?

So much for ur nosebleed being a bad omen

Fuck u for getting laid when I didn’t

“What are you laughing at?” Wonwoo called from the kitchen. You sighed contentedly and rolled over, tossing your phone to the other side of the bed.

“Nothing,” you responded cheerily. “I guess Jeonghan is a bad kisser.”

thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed this angsty wonwoo moment to start off your 2023, please leave a like or reblog to show support!

masterlist here :)

You’d stumbled into the bar at 2:57 AM—you only remembered because it was three minutes before closing and the bartender had given you the look. The I-wish-you-were-never-born look. You hadn’t minded, not really. Even now, you remembered the warm brown color of his eyes as he blankly stared down at you, apparently confused by your half-drunken request to use the store’s phone.

We don’t have one, he’d said.

How do you not have a phone?

The bartender had raised an eyebrow, and it was around this moment you realized he was very, very tall. Almost comically so. Well, I have a phone. You just can’t use it.

Why not?

Because I said so.

You recalled the acute urge to strangle this tall, rude bartender. If you don’t let me borrow your phone I’m going to order one of every single drink on the menu, you’d declared.

The stranger just stared. He’d stared at you like he could see directly through your skin and into your soul, and though you’d itched with the urge to blink, you refused to do so first. A long moment passed, during which your drunken mind was struck by the perfect idea to persuade him.

I’ll fuck you for it.

He’d released a loud, startled laugh, sounding almost as if he hadn’t meant to do it at all. The bartender had laughed and laughed, unable to stop unless he was turned completely away from you. In all honesty, it had hurt your pride.

Once the stranger had mastered himself, he reached into the pocket of his apron and fished out a small, rectangular object. His cellphone, mercifully, and damn you if the sight didn’t make your shoulders slump with relief.

He’d reached a muscular arm across the bar to hand it to you, his shoulders still shaking with barely-restrained laughter. Even shivering with the cold rain in your hair and a hangover already pounding at your temples, you had offered him a genuine, warm smile.

The bartender had smiled back, for the first time looking like he didn’t want to squash you under his shoe.

I’m Johnny.

~~~

Three years had passed since the night you first met Johnny Suh.

You couldn’t recall every moment of those years with perfect clarity, but you always remembered that first night. He had let you use his personal cellphone so you could call your roommate for a ride, though it had turned out to be pointless when he didn’t answer. Since you were effectively stranded, you’d sat at the bar alone while Johnny closed up, asking him a plethora of questions that he sometimes answered, sometimes didn’t. After that initial smile he’d gone back to treating your presence like a thorn in his side, but he never kicked you out. And much like your abrupt realization that he was tall, you realized sometime around then that Johnny was intimidatingly handsome.

When he offered you a ride home himself, you were mostly sober and still very much stranded. It surprised you when he asked his own round of questions during the drive to your apartment, but what surprised you more was that you were honest in your answers. It wasn’t particularly in your nature to open up to a stranger, but what did it matter when he would find out where you lived, anyway?

Johnny had parallel parked in front of your apartment building and you’d scribbled your phone number on a napkin before he could argue otherwise. That was also out of character for you, but you had known then that Johnny was different. Someone worth getting to know.

You’d been right.

It started as a not-quite friendship. You would have, on a good day, referred to Johnny as an acquaintance, only really spending time with him when you needed a ride home after a night out partying. It was the only excuse you could think of to justify seeking him out, especially when he never used the phone number you’d impulsively left for him. He never seemed particularly bothered when you showed up at the bar, though, and he always gave you a ride home.

Then, after about six months of this, you had gotten a text message from an unknown number:

Come out. We’re going to dinner.

Johnny’s car had been in its usual spot outside your apartment building, a sight which nearly made your heart fall out of your ass. But you’d done it. You’d gone to dinner with Johnny Suh.

And it was fun. Ridiculously, unexpectedly fun. He was carefree and confident in a way you deeply admired, never seeming to be bothered by anyone or anything. He’d asked you to be his girlfriend two weeks after your first date and you had said yes without a second thought.

You’d loved him. Johnny kept the napkin with your hastily scrawled phone number on it stuck to his fridge. He laughed with you and cried with you and kissed you until your lips were swollen and bruised. You frequently wondered what would have happened if you’d gotten in a different cab that first night, then decided it didn’t matter. He made love to you at every available opportunity and worshipped you like you were the sun personified. He was your entire world.

Until six months ago.

You hadn’t heard from him. Not for a while now. As far as you knew, he’d skipped town. You supposed that was normal considering the way you’d blown him off. The second you had seen him sitting on that park bench, fidgeting anxiously with that goddamned velvet ring box in his hand—

Nope. Nope nope nope.

Johnny Suh had loved you. Maybe as much as you’d loved him. Enough to ask you to marry him.

But you couldn’t. Wouldn’t.

Regardless, you still loved Johnny Suh almost as much as he hated you.

~~~

You woke up on New Year’s Eve with a nosebleed. Never a good way to start your day but not exactly something that could be helped. You just hoped it wasn’t a bad omen. You stared at your bleary-eyed reflection in the mirror as you stemmed the bleeding and cleaned your face.

Not even ten seconds had passed before someone banged on your bedroom door so hard it rattled in its frame. You rolled your eyes as you crossed your room and yanked it open, still holding a tissue to your nose.

“Mark, you realize that I will still answer the door if you knock normally.”

The origin of the incessant banging, your roommate Mark, gifted you with a shit-eating grin.

“I was making sure you were up. You don’t pay me to let you sleep until noon.”

“I don’t pay you at all.”

“Still. What happened to your face?”

You shrugged. “Who knows. I just woke up and my nose was bleeding.”

“That’s got to be a bad omen or something.”

You socked him on the shoulder and strode further into your room, catching sight of the sparkly dress hanging off your closet door. “Are you sure this is appropriate for tonight? They’re predicting snow.”

“Are you kidding?” Mark plopped onto your bed and punched your pillow until it was an acceptable shape for him to lean on. “It’s a New Year’s Eve party, I think it’s perfect. Maybe you can pick up a hot date or something.”

The last part of his statement was pointed, you both knew it. You shot him a dubious glare and sat next to him on the bed, throwing away your bloody tissue as you did.

“I told you I don’t care about dating right now.”

“I’m not talking about dating. What would be so bad about a hookup?” Such strange words when said by Mark Lee’s mouth.

You grimaced. “Not interested in that, either.”

Mark groaned. You didn’t hold it against him, his attempts to push you back out into the dating pool. He was obviously worried about you, though you hadn’t told him exactly what had gone down with Johnny all those months ago. And though he tried to hide it, you knew Mark missed Johnny just as much as you did. Those two had been partners in crime back then, but you’d inadvertently ruined that, too.

“I’m not letting you flake out on going with me, you know,” Mark said.

You had no intention of doing so. You’d been a bad enough friend to your roommate during the months you’d spent moping in Johnny’s absence—ditching your so-called “date” to Haechan’s New Year’s party wasn’t an option. Especially when he had stuck by your side through everything.

Mark had been your randomly-assigned roommate in college. There had been some glitch in your University’s housing system, hence why you’d wound up with a male roommate, but you didn’t mind. The dorm was at full capacity, anyway, so it wasn’t like you had the option to move.

You weren’t sure when Mark became your best friend, though he considered you his after the time you kicked out your blind date for eating Mark’s emergency stash of Hot Cheetos. You had been inseparable ever since, opting to live together even after college graduation.

You realized you had never responded to Mark’s statement and cleared your throat. “Of course I’m going with you. No one throws parties like Haechan.”

Mark snorted. “Hopefully no one winds up passed out in the pool this year.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that.”

Haechan threw a New Year’s party every year. In college there had always been a few hundred people there throughout the night, though in your adulthood that group had shrunk to a few dozen. But regardless of the size of the party, something ridiculous always happened. A few years ago Doyoung had drunkenly fainted into the pool after a particularly cutthroat game of strip poker. Last year Johnny had sprained his wrist when he decided it was a good idea to jump onto the trampoline from the second-story veranda.

It was the first New Years in two years you wouldn’t spend with him. Your heart squeezed at the thought.

As if he could read your mind, Mark offered casually, “I’ll kiss you at midnight, if you want.”

You wrinkled your nose. “No thanks, hotshot.”

“Hey now,” he raised his palms defensively, “I’m just trying to be helpful.”

“I know. Thank you.” You meant it. Mark was arguably the one person in the world you knew would have your back no matter what.

He groaned as he stood and strode across your room. “Whatever. You only wish you could get some of this.” Mark hesitated as he started to close your bedroom door behind him, poking his head through the crack between the door and frame. “Definitely wear that dress. It makes your ass look great.”

He slammed the door shut before you could find something to throw at him.

~~~

When you got to Haechan’s house in the suburbs it was a little past 9:30. Mark parked the car on the street, one of many other vehicles here for the same reason you were. You adjusted your dress around your hips as you stepped onto the curb.

It really was pretty. The material was a deep, shimmering gold that hugged your curves in all the right places, scooping low across your back with the skirt stopping just above mid-thigh. It wasn’t particularly practical for the cold weather but you had faith it would be warm enough inside.

Mark bounded up the front steps with the grace of a deer learning to walk, drawing an unbidden smile from you. By the time you reached his side he was banging repeatedly on the front door, the sound nearly drowned out by the chatter of the drunk crowd on the other side.

Your joked, “Maybe no one’s home,” was immediately disregarded when Haechan wrenched open the door. Deafening music and party noise filled your ears like a warm wave the second the barrier was removed. Haechan’s face was splashed with rosy color, his eyes a little glassy as he grinned. Most definitely drunk, probably had been for a while.

“You made it, thank god,” Haechan grabbed yours and Mark’s elbows and yanked you inside the house.

“Hell yeah, man, I wasn’t going to miss this.” Mark and Haechan fist-bumped, laughing in that ridiculous way they only did with each other. You closed the front door behind you as Haechan dragged Mark off into the crowd, no doubt to ply him with alcohol. You grinned to yourself. Mark was so hard-working all the time, he deserved to have fun more than just about anyone.

You didn’t mind that you were left alone. You had been to dozens of parties like this in the past, some of which made the scene before you look tame. It helped, of course, that you already knew almost everyone here. People at Haechan’s parties tended to run in the same circles and there were very seldom new additions to the guest list.

You pushed your way towards the kitchen, hunting for alcohol. You waved hello to your friends as you passed them, your warm smile so broad you almost convinced yourself of its authenticity. Just because you were moping didn’t mean anyone else had to share in your post-breakup blues.

Jaehyun waved at you from beneath the red-haired girl sitting in his lap, his face visibly softening when he saw you. He had been your lab partner in o-chem junior year of college—there were many fond memories of almost setting things on fire between the two of you. Despite your affection for your friend, you pretended not to see his hand beckoning to sit in the living room with him. You needed a shot, fast.

Hendery and Jaemin were having some manner of odd dance-off in the dining room, a sight which made you giggle. Yuta was pressing some girl firmly against the wall, kissing her with such passion it seemed as though he wished to swallow her whole. You looked away from that as fast as humanly possible.

By the time you reached the kitchen, Mark had a line of four empty shot glasses in front of him and was working on a fifth. The small crowd which had gathered to cheer him on was too distracted to notice when you swiped a bottle of tequila off the counter and took several deep swigs. The burn was glorious as it went down, warming your chest and fingers and toes simultaneously. It was exactly what you needed.

You wiped a trickle of alcohol off your chin with the back of your hand at the same moment Mark clapped you on the back.

“Drinking your sorrows?” He shouted over the music. His face was already tinged pink, his smile too wide and a little blurry. Or maybe that was just you.

“Always,” you laughed. You passed Mark the tequila bottle as Taeyong offered you a glass of whiskey, a single pink feather from the boa around his neck floating in it. You took it anyway.

You reveled in the noise and chaos around you for what could have been minutes or hours. You weren’t much for partying nowadays, but it was nearly impossible not to have fun at one thrown by Haechan. It was somehow already 10:45 and people were still showing up.

You kept to the kitchen most of the time, occasionally flitting into the living or dining rooms when you felt motivated to do so. Taeyong had produced a karaoke machine from somewhere and was shouting into the mic with Doyoung, his feather boa now around both of their necks.

You took another shot—you had lost count of how many you’d taken, though it was enough to not taste the alcohol as it went down—and spun around, intent to join in on the karaoke. You’d had Careless Whisper stuck in your head for the better part of an hour, anyway. You strode for the doorway that led to the living room, your smile wide and feeling more genuine than it had in weeks—

You froze.

No.

No no no

You cursed the alcohol clouding your mind as you stared at Johnny, standing in the center of the living room with a red solo cup in his hand. Even if you hoped he hadn’t seen you, it was already too late. He was staring directly at you, his jaw clenched hard.

Seeing him again like this, when you couldn’t prepare yourself for it, took your goddamn breath away. His hair was longer now, curling into the collar of his shirt. He was as ridiculously tall and handsome as ever, though your memory of him did not do him justice. Johnny was beautiful in every sense of the word.

The lights and music dimmed as time slowed. Your vision darkened until all you could see was Johnny’s face. A thousand emotions flashed through his eyes, passing too quickly for your drunken mind to focus on one.

Your breaths turned shallow. Panicky. You could only see the image of that ring box in his hands, stuck behind your eyelids like some sick still from a movie.

You did the smartest thing you could think of in the moment.

You turned and ran.

Mark was nowhere to be found, his car keys with him, though both of you were certainly too drunk to drive his car anyway. You hardly felt the cold pricking your bare legs and arms as you tore open the front door and shot through it. If anything, the sensation was a welcome one to help clear your mind.

You willed the alcohol to process through your body faster. The shock of seeing Johnny already had you half-sober, but your movements were still jerky and uncoordinated as you stumbled onto the sidewalk.

A loud gasp tumbled from your lips when a strong hand grasped your elbow. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. His hand was distractingly warm as he yanked you around to face him, forcing you to stop.

You stared up at Johnny, petrified. He glared down at you, his gaze setting your entire body alight.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He no doubt tried to sound cold, but there was an undercurrent of tension in his voice that ruined it. A painful twinge sparked in your chest at the sound of his voice. You’d somehow forgotten the magnitude of his presence in your time apart. The tone which had once whispered sweet praises in your ear and professed his love for you was nowhere to be found now.

“Uhm… home?”

“You’re drunk.”

Despite your panic, you grinned. “Astute observation.”

Johnny released your elbow like you’d burned him. You swayed, abruptly dizzy as you mourned the loss of contact. “Go back in the house,” he bit out. “You’re too drunk to walk home and it’s freezing outside.”

You stared for a moment, at a loss for words. You finally settled on, “I’m sorry. If I’d known you’d be here I wouldn’t have come.”

Johnny’s gaze darkened. “Why?”

“What?”

“Why wouldn’t you have come?”

It seemed so obvious to you. This was no longer a world where you and Johnny fit in the same room. Rather than answer his question, you took a wary step back.

“I should go home.”

“Absolutely not.” Johnny’s tone was firm. A bolt of indignation speared through you at his assumption you would still listen to anything he said. He seemed to notice the rebellion in your eyes because he insisted slowly, “You’re obviously drunk. Even if it wasn’t freezing outside you’re in no condition to walk yourself home.”

He was right, though you had no intention of telling him so. “Mark is waiting for me at the convenience store down the street,” you lied.

Johnny crossed his muscled arms over his chest, a slight smile quirking his lips. God, you’d forgotten how big he was. “Mark is playing spin the bottle in the living room with the others. If I’m not mistaken, he was trying to bargain his way out of kissing Jungwoo when I left.”

You just stared. What could you possibly say to that? He obviously knew you were lying.

Johnny sighed abruptly, his arms falling back to his sides in a fake show of nonchalance. You would have believed it if not for his hands clenched into white-knuckled fists at his hips. “Just go back to the party, okay? If you’re that uncomfortable with seeing me then I’ll leave.”

He turned to walk back towards the house and you surged forward before you could stop yourself. Your brain was still fogged with alcohol, but you were all too aware of your hand clasped around his broad forearm to stop him.

Johnny’s nostrils flared as he looked down at your point of contact, almost like he couldn’t believe you were willingly touching him. Or maybe he was disgusted by it, you couldn’t really tell.

“You don’t have to leave,” you insisted quickly, not completely sure why you bothered. “I’ll go. I’ll just call an Uber or something.” You offered him what you hoped was a reassuring smile. Perhaps it was the drunkenness still obvious on your face, but Johnny didn’t seem to believe you in the slightest.

It was at that moment the sky chose to release a very poorly-timed clap of thunder, the sound close enough to make your bones sing. You groaned inwardly. Thunder during a snowstorm was rare enough on its own—your nosebleed this morning had definitely been a bad omen.

Johnny’s face shuttered, suddenly resolute in whatever silent choice he’d made in his head. “That’s it.” He used the grip you still had on his arm to tug you back towards Haechan’s house. “If you’re so dead-set on leaving, I’m driving you home.”

Panic closed your throat, tight and fast. “No.”

Something akin to hurt flashed across Johnny’s face. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m not going to let you corner me in the car for some sort of macho interrogation.”

Johnny wrenched his arm from your grasp quickly enough that you stumbled. He spun to face you, a muscle feathering erratically in his jaw. “Have you stopped to think that maybe I just want to drive you home because it’s cold and about to snow and you’re wearing fucking lingerie as clothing?”

That brought you up short. Fury crackled in Johnny’s eyes, the heat of it matched only by the fire in your own.

“Feeling possessive, are we?” You spat. “You have no right—”

“I guess I don’t, do I? You decided that all on your own.” Johnny’s words had lost some of their bite. You stared at him, your rapidly-sobering mind reeling as you tried to decipher his expression.

Sadness. That was sadness in his eyes. The fact that you were the cause of it made your heart swoop into your stomach.

“I’m sorry, Johnny.” You hadn’t meant to say the words, but there they were. His jaw flexed again at the sound of his name on your lips. “You… you deserve better than me. You always did.”

He shook his head before you’d even finished speaking. “No, I don’t.”

This time, when he took hold of your wrist to lead you back to Haechan’s house, his touch was gentle. Somehow, it was a thousand times worse than the bruising grip he’d had on you earlier.

You walked together in careful silence, each of you too afraid to shatter the illusion of peace which had temporarily settled between you. One wrong move, wrong look, risked sending you into a screaming match.

You were only half surprised when Johnny strode past the walkway that led to Haechan’s house, instead making for his car parked down the street. It was directly behind Mark’s. Your eyes flickered to the back of Johnny’s head where he walked a step in front of you. That would mean… he knew you were here when he arrived. He’d known you were inside and still chose to go in.

“I need to tell Mark that I’m leaving. He’ll throw a hissy-fit if—”

“I already did.” Johnny opened the passenger door for you, pointedly looking anywhere other than your face as you lowered yourself into the car. “I texted him the second you ran.”

Ran. Yeah, that little episode was going to be embarrassing tomorrow.

Johnny’s car smelled exactly as you remembered it. Woody and masculine, an undercurrent of your perfume staining the leather seats, even after all these months. Yet another sensory detail to break your heart.

You didn’t have to direct him back to your apartment building. He drove in silence, his fingers clenched so hard around the wheel his knuckles paled under the strain. You very deliberately ignored the way his forearms flexed as he drove, his sleeves rolled up to the elbow.

It was all too easy to pretend it was six months ago. The dark car, the scent of Johnny invading your nostrils, the careful silence; if you tried hard enough, you could convince yourself nothing had happened. It was just like old times—you had spent the night bothering Johnny at the bar, now he was driving you home and sneaking glances at you from the corner of his eye. There were no painful emotions save the secret yearning for one another neither of you wanted to express.

You cracked your knuckles nervously as Johnny pulled the car to a stop in front of your building. He leaned forward in his seat so he could peer through the windshield, his hands still clasped on the wheel.

“It looks the same,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “I don’t know why I expected it to be different.”

You swallowed thickly. “Yeah. Do you… want to come up?”

He was quiet for a long moment. “I shouldn’t. I thought seeing you would help, but… fuck, I don’t know.” Johnny rubbed a hand over his jaw and glanced over at you, a strange glint of amusement in his eyes. “I was hoping that you were doing poorly, you know.”

“You were?”

“I thought it would make me feel better, to see you suffering. Turns out that backfired.”

You felt like a broken record, your only available words coming in the form of questions. “Why?”

“Because you aren’t suffering. You aren’t sick or ugly or depressed. You’re just…” You felt the stricken expression on your face without having to see it. “You’re still as beautiful as the day you left me.”

You closed your eyes. You were no longer tipsy enough to feel numb and with each passing second you questioned how you had managed to find yourself in this situation tonight.

“Come upstairs, Johnny. We can talk.”

He was shaking his head before you even finished speaking. “Just go. Please.” He flexed his fingers on the steering wheel, his knuckles a glaring white. “I’ll let Mark know you got home safely.”

Even if you wanted to move, you couldn’t. Your muscles locked, your hands folded tightly in your lap. Perhaps you subconsciously wished to prolong this stolen moment with Johnny as long as you could.

“If there were anything I could say to take your pain away, I would.” You could feel the scalding heat of Johnny’s gaze on your face without looking at him. “Just know that I’m sorry. I think I will be for the rest of my life.”

“Did you even have a reason?” His tone was abruptly harsher than before and you flinched. “We were doing fine. Better than fine, I thought. We had breakfast like normal, you went to work like normal, we were supposed to meet in the park for lunch, then–nothing. I got home and all your stuff was gone.”

Hearing it aloud like that, especially from his perspective… guilt gripped your throat like a vise. What you’d said a moment ago was all too true: there was no way to explain your commitment issues in a way that would make him feel better.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated weakly. There was a distant throbbing in your temples, a sure sign of your approaching hangover. You mercifully regained control of your muscles and shouldered the car door open, frigid winter air prickling your bare skin. The scent of snow hung heavy in the air.

You had barely reached your full height on the curb when the sound of Johnny’s door opening and slamming nearly made you jump out of your skin. For what had to be the third time tonight, he grabbed your elbow and spun you around to face him. You tried not to cower at the way he towered over you, his expression nothing short of seething.

“Tell me why,” he hissed, his tone half pleading and half a curse. You opened and closed your mouth several times, unable to speak. What did he expect you to say? You could hardly think around the proximity of his face to yours—it had been over six months since the last time you were within kissing distance of Johnny. Now that you were, the possibility was so dizzying you were struck dumb.

You stared up at him, your eyes wide. His face was a conundrum of sharp angles and delicate features, made harsher by the passion written across it. Maybe you were still a little drunk, because you lifted a hand to drift your fingertips across his cheekbone before you could stop yourself.

Almost like it was on instinct, Johnny’s eyes fluttered closed at your touch. His skin was fire-hot beneath the pads of your fingers. You were certain the two of you would look ridiculous to any random passerby but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. At some point one of his broad arms had encircled your waist, his forearm trapping you to his chest as you timidly explored his features.

Heaven. Touching Johnny was nothing short of heaven. And by some miracle, despite his fury with you, his hurt, he was allowing you to continue.

“I saw the ring,” you whispered, hardly more than a breath of air moving.

Johnny’s eyes snapped open. “What did you say?”

You swallowed. “That day at the park. I was walking up from behind you and… I saw the box in your hands.” His face further paled with each word that left your mouth. “You looked terrified and I… I couldn’t let you down like that.”

Johnny’s fingers curled around your wrist and pulled your hand away from his face, though he didn’t release you. And to your intense surprise, he began to laugh. It was a sharp sound, like he didn’t really find it funny at all, but you had no time to process the sound before Johnny crushed his lips to yours.

For a moment, you were simply frozen. Johnny’s mouth was starkly warm compared to the winter air around you, the feel of it as familiar to you as your own. Snowflakes had just begun to drift in the air around you, getting caught in his dark hair and eyelashes before turning to slush.

His hands moved so they gripped your hip bones, pulling you further into his heat. His jeans scratched against your upper thighs, and it was that sensation that made you realize you were kissing Johnny back. Your lips moved demandingly against his, your mouths and teeth and tongues dancing together. He kissed you like you were the cure he’d been searching for, you returning the fervor as if he were the very air you breathed.

Completely by accident, a whimper escaped your throat. The sound was tight and breathless, one you hadn’t made for anyone or anything since Johnny. He groaned low in his chest and it sent warmth pooling straight to your core.

You raked your cold fingers through his hair at the base of his neck. You enjoyed its length far more than you thought you would—like this, it was long enough for you to tug at the root and draw more pretty moans from him. You clenched around nothing each time he did so, your mind laser-focused on the hard length you felt pressing insistently into your lower stomach. It was another thing you’d failed to recall about Johnny—after six months of his absence, you severely doubted he would fit. It had taken months to adjust you to his size the first time.

Johnny bit down on your lower lip and roughly sucked, forcing another moan from you. It was intoxicating, kissing him. His large hands groped your ass, your lower back, your ribcage; no matter where he touched you, it was never enough for him. He kissed you with the desperation of a man starved.

Which was why when he abruptly pulled away, his lips kiss-bitten and expression half-wild, you unabashedly whined. Johnny stared down at you, his chest heaving. His hair was spiked in strange directions where you had run your hands through it, the top three buttons of his shirt somehow undone.

He averted his eyes at the same moment you did. You feared one wrong look would send you both back into the frenzy and a snowy sidewalk was not the place for it. Johnny met your eyes again, some unspoken words contained within them that you couldn’t begin to decipher. He looked like he wanted to throttle you as much as he wanted to kiss you again and, if you were being completely honest, you weren’t sure which you’d prefer.

Without another word, Johnny spun on his heel and marched back to the other side of his car. You silently begged him to hesitate—to turn back and pounce on you again. The part of your brain crazed by lust wanted him to take his anger out on your body more than you wanted to breathe.

He did no such thing. Johnny didn’t spare you another glance before he slammed the driver’s side door shut behind him and sped off, the car almost instantly consumed by exhaust and snowfall.

Later, you would not be able to recall how long you stood there, frozen on the sidewalk. You stared after him, your breaths shallow, until painful chills rose on your skin and your teeth began to chatter.

What the hell had you done?

~~~

You couldn’t sleep.

You tossed and turned for hours, met with the image of Johnny kissing you every time you dared close your eyes. The taste of him still lingered in your mouth, the feel of his skin tingling on the tips of your fingers. The new year came and went, and you realized that Johnny had wound up being your midnight kiss, after all.

It was close to 3:30 in the morning when you decided you couldn’t stand it anymore. Mark still wasn’t home—he likely wouldn’t be until after dawn, and you doubted you could take another second of the silence without him. You’d walked into your apartment alone and stone-cold sober, a fact which didn’t help with the empty ache in the center of your chest.

After finally managing to pull your feet free of the sidewalk, you hadn’t bothered to remove your party dress before you fell into bed. It wasn’t the most comfortable sleepwear in the world, but you’d been too dejected to mess with it.

You rolled out of bed, annoyance prickling the backs of your eyes. You knew you had no right to be frustrated, not after what you did to him, but you couldn’t understand how Johnny could just leave like that. The second he’d pulled away from you he looked as though he’d seen a ghost.

You left a living room lamp on for Mark and shoved your feet into a pair of tennis shoes, running your fingers through your hair by way of brushing it. You didn’t dare look at your reflection in the mirror as you shrugged on a coat—looking a bit unhinged was probably appropriate for what you were about to do, anyway.

The drive was quiet, only the sound of your car and the drifting snowflakes outside to keep you company. The roads were mercifully empty, for the most part, save a few stragglers making their way home after their own New Year’s Eve celebrations. It was difficult enough to drive in ice and snow by itself.

When you arrived at Johnny’s apartment, you sat in your car for what felt like an eternity, contemplating if you should risk going up or not. He probably wouldn’t be happy to see you—hell, you wouldn’t be happy to see you.

“Fuck it,” you whispered to yourself. You had to try. You’d regret it for the rest of your life if you didn’t. The walk to Johnny’s front door was mechanical, your body running on pure muscle memory. An odd sort of nerves quickened your heartbeat as you stopped on the mat. He hadn’t gotten a new one since you left. You had bought his welcome mat as a joke a year and a half ago, an ugly monstrosity that read I’ll only answer for Girl Scouts. He insisted at every available opportunity that it wasn't funny.

You knocked twice and stepped back, your arms crossed tightly over your chest. You should just go home. He didn’t want to see you again, that much was obvious from the way he left you earlier. Yet for some reason, you couldn’t force yourself to walk away.

You waited for long enough that you thought he wouldn’t open the door. Maybe he was asleep—the thought he wasn’t kept awake by the memory of kissing you the way you were sent embarrassment flooding your veins. You had just turned to leave when the door swung open, and all you could do was stare.

Johnny didn’t react to your presence, seemingly unsurprised to find you on his doorstep. His gaze was hard, faint shadows staining beneath his eyes. His hair stuck up straight on one side, a sure sign he had been tossing and turning the same way you had been. All the words that had been building in your throat during the drive here dissipated into nothing at the sight of him.

He wordlessly stepped aside to let you in and damn you if your expression didn’t crumple with relief. His scent enveloped you as you entered and your heart lurched. You stopped in the open kitchen and turned to face him, your arms still protectively crossed over your chest. He mirrored your stance, his gray sleep shirt pulled tight across his shoulders.

“I don’t know why I’m here,” you choked out at last. It wasn’t exactly a lie, you realized. You weren’t really sure why you had bothered to come here—the only thing you knew was that being in his absence felt akin to dying at the moment.

“You shouldn’t be,” he said flatly. The expression on his face was very carefully neutral, a sort of coldness that didn’t suit him at all.

Your heart sank. “I know. I’m sorry, I just… I’m so sorry.” You weren’t making any sense, but it didn’t really matter.

Johnny released a deep sigh and sank into a bar stool at his kitchen island. He massaged his jaw with a hand, his eyes flickering between your face and the old napkin still stuck to his refrigerator.

“When you didn’t show up to the park, I thought the worst had happened.” His voice was tense and he hesitated. You held your breath while he collected his thoughts, trying your best to allow him room to think. “What if you had gotten into an accident? Or there was an emergency with Mark or your family and you couldn’t contact me? I had already started thinking about what my hobby would be in prison if someone had hurt you.” He smiled bitterly to himself.

“I got home and everything you had left here over the years was gone. I would’ve thought you were a dream if it weren’t for the smell of your damn perfume all over everything. Two weeks later I saw you walking downtown with Mark and Jaehyun.” Your breath caught. You knew exactly which night he was referring to. Your friends had forced you out of the apartment when they tired of watching Dirty Dancing on repeat. “You looked… fine.” Johnny’s voice dripped with disbelief. “You laughed at something Jae said and followed him into a bar. Why were you fine? How did you manage it so quickly?”

When you spoke, your voice was hoarse. “I didn’t. I was pretending, even tonight at the party.”

Johnny nodded distantly. “Me too. The second I saw Mark’s car I thought I was going to go insane. If you had brought someone else to Haechan’s…” he cleared his throat. “I still can’t think about it. When I saw you inside I thought my heart would fall out of my ass.”

Despite yourself, you giggled. Johnny tossed a dirty look in your direction which you returned with a small smile. You both had a habit of using the odd phrase, even after all this time.

“Anyway, I…” Johnny trailed off and reached into his pocket. Your heart ceased beating completely as he set a small velvet box on the counter between you. “Open it.” When you remained frozen, he urged softly, “Go on.”

After a moment of hesitation, you reached out. The crushed velvet was soft beneath your fingertips, warm from being in Johnny’s pocket for so long. You took a deep breath, held it, and at last opened the box.

Inside was a key.

You would have sworn in that moment the entire world came crashing down around you. The key was small and a burnished gold, Johnny’s apartment number engraved on the rectangular handle.

God, you were a fucking idiot.

Johnny cleared his throat. “Since you didn’t respond to any of my attempts to reach you, I couldn’t ask you what happened. I would have been able to explain myself to you.” He stood and approached you slowly, moving as if he wished not to frighten you. You only became aware your cheeks were glistening when Johnny took your face in his hands and wiped your tears away with his thumbs.

“I’m not ready to get married, baby. And I’d like to think I know you well enough by now to know you aren’t either.” Johnny took another deep breath, his eyes unreadable. “I was going to ask you to move in with me that day. I had no idea it would drive you to break up with me, though.”

Your teeth chattered, likely with nerves as much as the cold. You couldn’t believe what a fool you were. Even more than that, an ass.

Ever so slowly, Johnny kissed each corner of your lips, his hands still braced on your jaw. Gradually, beneath the heat of his touch, your jaw ceased its chattering. You remained perfectly still, not completely sure what you were supposed to do.

“Tell me,” he began lowly. “Are you really sorry?”

You nodded hastily. You wished there were a way to express it so that he would never doubt its truth. “I’ve never been so sorry in my life.”

“Do you even know how much you hurt me, baby?” Johnny breathed, his tongue ghosting over a tear that had escaped your eye before it could fall. A shudder worked through your body. “Mind if I return the favor?”

You froze. You had no idea what he meant, but you still didn’t move when Johnny’s lips pressed gently against yours. He kissed you softly, delicately, like you were something he would break if he wasn’t careful. If your kiss earlier had been fire, this was frost.

You kissed him back, allowing your arms to rest over his shoulders as you rose onto your toes for better access. Johnny watched you through hooded eyes as his tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring and tasting as if he hadn’t done it a thousand times before.

He pried the key from your cold fingers and set it gently on the counter without removing his lips from yours. You hardly noticed. Though Johnny was moving at an excruciatingly slow pace, there was a heat building in your stomach that demanded your complete attention.

Each time you tried to kiss him more intensely or grind your hips against his, he drew away. It was infuriating, this game he played, and after several minutes you released a shameless whine into his mouth. Your hands drifted from his shoulders and down his chest until your fingers found the hem of his shirt. He shivered when your fingertips ghosted across the muscled strip of golden skin below his navel.

Enough playing.

Your lips curled into a smile against his at the same moment you palmed his impressive length through his pants, already half-hard. It snapped whatever internal leash he’d been holding on himself.

In one swift movement, Johnny grabbed your ass hard enough to bruise and yanked you off the ground. You gasped sharply, your legs instinctively wrapping around his hips as he used one arm to sweep everything off the island behind you. He didn’t give you a chance to collect yourself before his lips crashed against yours again, far more demanding than before.

His tongue invaded your mouth with an urgency that drew short pants from your throat. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t seem to catch your breath. His hands were everywhere. In your hair, on your face, your throat—he shoved his fingers beneath your coat and yanked it off your shoulders, nearly popping a button in the process.

He groaned, the sound near gutteral, when he saw your dress beneath it. He pulled away to admire you and you gasped shallow breaths, the sudden access to oxygen making your head spin. His long fingers toyed with one of the straps, simultaneously undressing you with his eyes.

“This fucking thing,” he muttered roughly. “Who did you wear this slutty thing for?”

God, you were so wet you could feel your slick halfway down your thighs. If Johnny pulled the hem of your dress any higher he would see it. You breathed at last, “You, baby. Only you.”

Johnny made an appreciative noise and allowed his mouth to drift over yours, his lips parted just enough to allow your tongue past them. He gave you no warning before his hand dove beneath your dress. His fingertips pushed against your entrance over your panties and you writhed, not caring how desperate you seemed.

He took his time, much to your dismay. His fingers trailed over your slit, flimsy lace still separating skin from skin, and down your inner thighs. Johnny released a shaky sigh when he discovered how drenched you were, your only sign that he was exerting an insane amount of self-control not to fuck you. His thumb pressed down briefly on your clit and you jolted at the bolt of heat that speared through you.

His other hand lifted to grip the back of your neck, holding you in place as you squirmed. “God, I missed this,” he said into your mouth. “You think this pussy still remembers me?” You were so hyper-focused on his hand between your legs that you couldn’t manage to respond.

At last, his fingers nudged your panties to the side. Your body locked as his middle finger circled your soaked entrance once, then sank inside. You loosed a shuddering breath of relief at the sensation, your pussy tensing and unintentionally sucking his finger deeper. Johnny hissed with approval.

His eyes burned with lust as he began to pump his finger in and out of you, watching every micro-change in your expression through half-closed lids. You moaned readily for him, not only to motivate him to continue, but because after six months of celibacy your body felt like a live wire.

He smoothly inserted another finger with the first and you whimpered softly.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he growled, his voice so laden with desire he hardly sounded like himself. “You haven’t fucked anyone else, have you?”

You clasped the back of his neck in a hand, mostly to keep your shaking body from falling off the counter. “Never, no one else.”

Despite the show he was putting on for you, you felt Johnny’s body marginally relax at that.

Johnny moved his hand that was on your neck to your chest and forced your body down until you laid flat on the counter. His fingers increased their pace inside of you and crooked, each thrust bumping your g-spot and drawing lewd moans from your throat.

He bent over you and tugged at the roots of your hair until you had no choice but to look at him. It was a monumental effort to keep your eyes open, especially when his thumb began moving over your clit in time with his fingers. “You will not cum, do you hear me?” He commanded softly. You clenched hard around his fingers. “Say it.”

“I won’t cum,” you gasped out. “I won’t cum, I swear it.”

Johnny’s answering smile made you whimper. “That’s my girl.”

He pulled his fingers out of you and shoved your dress up your body, barely giving you time to help him in getting it all the way off. You only half noticed the sound of lace tearing as he ripped your panties off you and, since your dress didn’t allow you to wear a bra, you laid on the counter completely bare to him in less than ten seconds flat.

Johnny pressed his hard length against your pussy, the roughness of his pants against your overheated skin making your eyes roll back into your head. His fingers curled around your throat and squeezed at the same moment he tapped your lower lip with the ones that had just been inside you. Your lips parted immediately and you fought the urge to gag when his fingers sank into your throat to the knuckle.

You sucked greedily, reveling in the deep flush that crept up Johnny’s throat and onto his cheeks at the sight. He was teetering on the edge of a cliff, you could tell. One wrong move and he would dive off of it.

You moaned softly as he sank to his knees and roughly tugged your hips further off the edge of the counter.

He pressed a kiss to the inside of your knee. “You’re going to take what I give you, do you understand?”

You knew better than to respond nonverbally. “Yes.”

Johnny groaned deep in his throat and dragged his tongue up the inside of your thigh. He repeated the action on your other leg, eagerly cleaning any of your slick that remained there. You were quivering with tension, your body so tightly wound that you worried your muscles would snap.

When Johnny’s full lips at last closed around your clit you thought you would pass out. Your hand immediately shot into his hair, your nails scratching at his scalp as you wantonly moaned. He made expert work of you, his tongue licking several stripes up your slit and circling around your fluttering entrance.

You couldn’t even look at him for fear of cumming. The one time you did, you nearly plummeted off the edge. His eyes were closed, that same pretty blush staining his cheeks and climbing to his hairline. Johnny couldn’t stop moaning into you, the vibrations shooting up your spine and curling white-hot in your belly.

“You taste so fucking good, baby,” he cooed, his condescending tone completely at odds with his praise. “Even better than I remember.”

Your hips ground against his face, desperately seeking your orgasm even though he’d instructed you not to cum. Johnny plunged two of his fingers into your heat without easing you into it this time and you released a tight cry. The burn of the stretch was glorious; you had the thought that if he removed his fingers you might very well die. He scissored you opened roughly, any gentleness now out the window as lust clouded his brain completely.

You rocketed higher, your body shaking and pulsing completely out of your control. Johnny suckled your clit in tandem with his fingers pumping in and out of you, his pace so brutal that stars flickered behind your eyelids.

“Please, Johnny---pleasepleaseplease,” you babbled senselessly. “So good, baby, you—ah—I’m gonna cum—”

All at once, Johnny stopped.

You whined defiantly, your eyes snapping open as he pulled his fingers out of you. His hand grasped your jaw hard, forcing you to meet his gaze. He met your furious expression with a saccharine smile.

“Be a good girl, now,” he said sweetly. He licked every bit of you off his fingers, obviously enjoying the way you panted at the action. Johnny pressed his lips to yours and pulled away before you could deepen the kiss. “You don’t cum until I say you can.”

Your head fell back onto the counter, your denied orgasm still thrumming through your veins. You saw now what he intended to do. You had hurt him, so he would hurt you. Johnny planned to draw this out as long as he possibly could, no matter how you begged.

You snapped back to attention at the sensation of his clothed cock on your center. Your eyes fell to your point of contact, both of you completely enraptured by the sight as your slick stained his pants. When you risked looking at his face, Johnny was biting his lower lip so hard you were surprised he didn’t draw blood.

He thrust against you gently, ever-so-slowly forcing you back up the climb to your orgasm. Johnny braced his hands on either side of your waist, the veins in his forearms bulging as his arms shook.

“You look so damn pretty like this,” he muttered, almost to himself. His cock strained against his pants, practically begging to be freed as he ground against you. If he wasn’t inside of you soon you were very sure you’d go insane.

You rolled your hips on him and he’d finally reached his breaking point. Anticipation thrummed through you as he yanked his t-shirt over his head, at last revealing his perfect torso. Even after all this time, you couldn’t believe the way he was built. His golden skin glistened with a light sheet of sweat, only accentuating his muscled pecs and abs.

He took one of your nipples into his mouth and sucked hard while he shoved his pants down his legs. Your fingers tangled in his hair again at the sensation, offering him whispered praises while he left a smattering of love-bites across your chest.

Johnny paid no mind to his hard cock as it rested on your pelvic bone, instead kneading your breasts in his large hands and showing your other nipple the same attention as the first. His hips thrusted, pushing his dick through your folds, almost as if the action was unintentional. The friction was driving you wild and you moaned for him, your orgasm just barely out of reach.

He continued sucking your nipple as one of his hands snaked between you, his fingers resuming their earlier effort to prep you. The thought made your mouth go dry. Not for the first time tonight, you wondered how your body would respond to his impressive size.

Just the scissoring of his fingers made you squirm, adrenaline and endorphins making your vision go hazy. This time, his denial of your orgasm was likely unintentional as he extracted his fingers from you. You groaned in frustration anyway.

He lined the head of his cock up with your entrance, stopping once it had fitted itself just enough to stay there. Your tight ring of muscle pulsed, desperate to have him inside. Still, he didn’t move, just staring at you as if he worried you would vanish into thin air.

Then he began to push in. And in. And in. You both gritted your teeth, pain and pleasure seamlessly mixing as he attempted to fit his cock into you. The months without him had not done well for your ability to accommodate him.

Tears stung behind your eyes and you released a half moan, half cry. “It hurts, Johnny.” Your fingers squeezed the back of his neck, pulling him down until his face was just over yours.

He grimaced but didn’t look away from your face, seemingly enamored by your pained, blissed out expression.

“You can take it.” He pressed a swift kiss to the corner of your eye. Agonizingly slowly, Johnny continued to work himself into you, thrusting gently and barely gaining any depth on each pass. You panted into one another’s mouths, both of your lips parted as pleasure consumed your bodies. It hurt like fucking hell, but you would be damned if he tried to stop.

All at once your walls gave way.

Johnny sank into you to the hilt, your hips pressed flush against each other's. You released simultaneous sighs of relief at the pressure that was immediately eased. His forehead fell against yours and he let out a shaky, quiet laugh, obviously proud at the way you managed to take all of him.

“Atta girl,” he whispered and rewarded you with another kiss.

He began to thrust and immediately that tight ball began to form again in your stomach. You moaned senselessly, recklessly, begging him to go deeper and faster and not to stop all in the same breath.

Johnny grunted with each thrust, the head of his cock knocking into your g-spot over and over again.

“So fucking tight,” he half-growled in your ear. You clenched around him and he released his first true moan of the night. He had to be careful—the tight, wet heat of you had driven him to the edge of orgasm so fast he genuinely feared he would cum before you. It was obvious to you that he wouldn’t last long; his gaze was laser-focused on the spot he drove into you, that same muscle in his jaw spasming frantically.

“Johnny, please—” you raked your fingernails across his shoulders as you whined, if only as a way to ground yourself. “I want to cum on your cock, please let me—”

“Desperate, baby?” Whatever tone he’d tried to achieve in his taunt was lost by the pleasure laced through his voice. He increased his pace, pounding into you hard enough that he pushed you further onto the counter. Johnny grabbed your ankles and threw your legs on his shoulders—he reached even deeper in this position, deep enough you thought you might be split in half—

Your high began to crest out of nowhere—

Johnny pulled out.

You let out a terse cry, your walls fluttering around nothing as you mourned the loss of yet another orgasm.

“You fucking asshole—”

Johnny cut you off when he literally threw you over his shoulder and smacked your ass hard enough to sting. You protested the entire way to his bedroom, both pleased and a little concerned when you saw angry red lines where you’d scratched his back earlier.

He tossed you onto the bed and wasted no time positioning himself behind you. “When you cum—” he pulled you up by your throat so you were both on your knees, your back pressed tight to his chest “—I want you to land somewhere soft when you pass out.”

He entered you again in one smooth thrust, your walls now so drenched and plush that he sank in easily. Johnny thrust mercilessly, his pace brutal and hard and perfect. You ground your hips back into him, your hand rising to cover his where his fingers squeezed the sides of your throat with expert pressure. Your head felt light as a cloud, your vision swimming in and out of focus at the lack of oxygen.

Your head fell back onto his shoulder and his fingers found your clit, rubbing quick, precise circles onto the bundle of nerves. Your orgasm rose and rose and rose—surely you couldn’t last much longer.

Johnny pressed a fierce kiss to your brow and moaned in your ear as his thrusts became more erratic. “Cum,” he commanded.

And you were gone. Your orgasm streaked through you like a lightning bolt, your vision failing completely as your pussy clenched so hard that Johnny was forced to stop thrusting. He loosed a shuddering moan into your ear, raising goosebumps on your scalp, as he too found his release. He came inside of you in thick, hot spurts, his cum trapped inside your walls by the sheer girth of his cock.

Between your walls and his cock pulsing in response to the other, both of your orgasms were drawn out to the point of pain. Each time you began to come down, his dick twitched against your g-spot and started the process all over again. At some point, much to your embarrassment, you proved Johnny right when you slumped against him for several seconds, completely oblivious. He held you through it, whispering sweet praises in your ear and tracing gentle shapes over your bare abdomen.

At last, you both came back to earth. He pulled his softening cock out of you and you both whimpered at the sudden loss. For a long moment though, you just remained like that—both on your knees, his arms wrapped protectively around you as you caught your breath.

You turned your head and smiled softly into the kiss Johnny gave you. “Stay here,” he murmured. He was only gone for a moment, during which time you laid completely on the bed and basked in the post-orgasm bliss and the ache between your thighs. When he returned, it was with a warm washcloth and glass of water in hand.

He cleaned you up quietly as you drank the water he gave you. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him even if you wanted to. You were so completely enamored by the sight of him—surely there was no man more perfect in the world than this one.

You broke the silence first. “I truly am sorry, Johnny. There’s no excuse—”

“I get it,” he said, cutting you off. You swallowed thickly. “I just wish you would have talked to me. We could have avoided this whole mess in the first place.”

“I know. I want—I mean, if you want… Fuck.” You rubbed your eyes with the heels of your hands, frustrated with your inability to speak. “That is, if you’ll still have me—”

Johnny cut you off again, this time with a harsh kiss to your lips that almost left you moaning and ready for him again. He stared intensely into your eyes, the warm brown color of his bathing you in comfort.

“You’re mine, baby,” he said confidently. “That didn’t change when you ran away and it certainly doesn’t change now.”

You nearly slumped with relief. You shared an abruptly shy smile with Johnny which he returned, one only meant for one another. There was a fragile shine to his eyes which hadn't been there before, courtesy of your behavior. You made a promise then and there to earn his trust back and never break it again. He glanced over at the clock on his nightstand, the digital numbers reading 5:15.

He shrugged lightly, the muscles in his powerful shoulders shifting. “I think some people would consider this a good time for breakfast. Hungry?” You nodded lightly, unable to rid yourself of the smile on your face. “I think I have pancake mix around here somewhere.”

You greedily watched his bare ass as Johnny pulled on a pair of sweatpants and left his bedroom. When he returned, it was with your phone and his gray t-shirt from earlier. You gratefully pulled on the latter and accepted the thousandth affectionate kiss Johnny had given you tonight.

He left again to cook breakfast, leaving you to stare at the empty doorway smiling like a lovesick idiot. You shook your head to clear it as you turned on your phone, waiting for it to boot back up.

You knew it would take time and patience with Johnny. You had hurt him in a way that many wouldn’t forgive, yet somehow you were lucky enough that he understood and loved you anyway. You truly hoped that when the day came for Johnny to actually propose, you wouldn’t react like such a goddamn coward.

The smell of pancakes filled the apartment as your phone finally lit up, among the living once again. Immediately, a string of texts filled your screen, all of which were from Mark. They varied in subject and capitalization, but the most recent three made you laugh out loud.

U SO GOT LAID DIDN'T U???

So much for ur nosebleed being a bad omen

FUCK U for getting laid when I didn’t

“What are you laughing at?” Johnny called from the kitchen. You sighed contentedly and rolled over, tossing your phone to the other side of the bed.

“Nothing,” you responded cheerily. “Apparently Jungwoo is a bad kisser.”

thank you so much for reading!! I always feel just a little bit insane about johnny so with their u.s. tour rapidly approaching, this is just a little something to get everyone excited ;) please leave a like and/or reblog if you enjoyed!!

masterlist here :)

There was a special place in hell reserved for whatever bastard had designed this building.

Sure, the casino was gorgeous, a sprawling complex filled to the brim with gilded architecture and marble and red velvet. Slot machines and other various games of luck created a mighty wave of sound, the scent of people desperate to escape nine-to-five misery hanging in the air. But unfortunately, the layout looked nothing in person like it had on the blueprints.

You walked slowly through one of the main halls, glad for the swells of people around you to provide cover. Though you would likely fit right in if any of the guards spotted you, it still made you nervous. You had chosen a skintight crimson dress for the occasion, the hem just brushing the middle of your thighs and the long sleeves clasped in diamond cuffs around your wrists. The air inside was brisk despite the volume of bodies, raising chills on your bare back.

Somehow, in the middle of a crowd of women dressed in floor-length gowns, you felt tragically underdressed.

“Are you in yet?”

You jumped at Felix’s too-loud voice in your ear, the small wire extending from your earpiece tickling your neck beneath your hair. Once again, you wondered why you had let him convince you to do this.

“I told you I’d let you know, Lix.” You huffed an agitated breath and took a casual sip of your champagne. “You’re distracting me.”

Felix mumbled a soft, “Sorry,” at the same time another voice, this one further away from the microphone, added, “Yeah, you’re distracting her.”

You rolled your eyes before you could think better of it. You lifted your champagne flute to your mouth so you could whisper behind it, “Why are you even here, Chan?”

“Because unlike some people, I am willing to be a voice of reason. I can’t believe you let Felix rope you into this.”

The instinct to scoff was enormous, but the adrenaline pumping through your body distracted you from your tendency to be a smartass.

“Hey, she agreed, didn’t she? Don’t act like this is all my f—”

“We still don’t know why she agreed—”

“Seriously, guys, shut up.” You scanned the room with your eyes, making sure to keep a soft smile plastered on your face. You couldn’t keep speaking to them like this—if anyone saw you talking to yourself all hell would break loose.

In truth, you weren’t quite sure why you had agreed, either. It was like someone else had taken over your body the moment Felix’s caller ID showed up on your phone. It was Felix, for god’s sake.

Much to your despair, he didn’t listen to your request to stop talking. “You remember what you have to do, right?”

You didn’t answer right away, instead taking a moment to casually saunter behind a column, facing the wall as you leaned against it.

“Yeah, I remember.” You whispered at last, watching through your periphery for any unsuspecting passerby. “Do you remember what I told you?”

“Yeah, yeah. He doesn’t even know I’ve been talking to you.” There was an edge to Felix’s tone which you determinedly ignored. You knew he was all but chomping at the bit for you to speak to Hyunjin, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tackle that particular problem quite yet. Things like this were much more your speed.

At the end of the day, heists were easier than proposals.

You took a deep breath as you reassembled the blasé smile onto your face. “Okay, seriously, stop talking to me.”

Chan’s staticky laugh filtered through your earpiece, followed swiftly by a muted thud like Felix had swatted him on the arm.

You reemerged from behind the column and joined the steady stream of people milling between rooms. Though the casino looked far different in person than it had in the blueprints Felix had sent you, you at least knew that you were one level higher than you needed to be.

You made your way toward the grand staircase at the end of the hall at an unhurried pace. The only thing that calmed your nerves was the coolness of the revolver holstered to your lower back, concealed by the fur wrap you held casually around your waist.

Seriously, why had you let Felix convince you to do this? This, of course, meaning stealing a diamond the size of your fist from the office of the owner of this casino. The payout would be enormous, but money wasn’t your primary motive for helping Felix steal the gem.

Ugh, Jihyo was going to wring your neck for this one.

“I wish you would have let me come in there with you.” Felix said, once again ignoring your request to keep quiet. You didn’t respond, not now that you were in the open, but he didn’t seem to mind. “We worry about you.”

“We?” You whispered back before you could stop yourself.

There was a beat of silence like Felix had nodded, forgetting you couldn’t see him. “Well, yeah. I know you can hold your own nowadays and all, but you can’t blame me for wanting to help. You remember the panic word, right?”

You chuckled quietly. Yes, you definitely remembered the panic word. Why Felix had chosen “brownie” as the word that meant you were about to die and the mission was compromised, you had no idea.

“I think she’ll be fine, Lix,” Chan interjected. “She didn’t get a title like “Viper Queen” from sitting around doing needlepoint.”

You fought the urge to smile. Chan was right about that, at least. You descended the grand staircase, keeping your face angled downwards so your hair fell in a curtain around your features.

“I guess. Just be careful in there, okay? Hyunjin is gonna have all our asses if anything happens to you.”

Your stomach twisted. You wished your friend would cool it with the pointed mentions of your almost-fiancée, but you couldn’t really blame him. He was rooting for you.

You reached the bottom of the staircase and veered right, towards the seemingly endless rows of slot machines and warm, finely-dressed bodies. Security were everywhere. A few were dressed in some variation of police uniforms, attempting to look more trained than they actually were, but others—the ones you really needed to worry about—were clad in midnight blue, spotless suits. Those were the ones on the owner’s payroll.

You set your empty champagne flute on the tray of a passing waiter as you strode into a smaller, shadowy hallway. Here, unlike in the larger room from which you’d come, there was no one.

It quieted the longer you walked, the crushed velvet beneath your feet muting the ambient casino noise. Black doors lined either side of the hall, intricate paintings of elderly, unkind-looking men hanging between each.

“Turn the corner ahead, his office is the fourth door on the right.” Felix instructed.

“How do you know where I am?”

“Chan hacked into the cameras on his laptop. I’ve got like six angles on you right now.”

You stiffened at the knowledge you were being watched, but there wasn’t much you could do about it. At least you knew Chan would erase the footage as it was recorded, covering your tracks before anyone could realize you were there.

Felix’s instructions proved unnecessary. You couldn’t have missed the office door if you tried. It was bigger than the rest, the doorframe gilded in the same shade of gold as the accents in the main room.

You hesitated with your hand on the knob. “You’re sure he won’t be in here?”

“Positive.” It was Chan who answered this time. “Boss is in front of the casino right now. Looks like he’s talking to valet, maybe waiting for someone.”

“Let’s do this fast though, just in case. Once you’re in, use his computer to disable the cameras. We’ll lose your visual, but it’ll cover you while you get out.”

You took a steadying breath. It wasn’t the first time you’d done something like this, not by a long shot, but it still made you nervous.

You opened the door.

The hinges didn’t squeak as it swung inward, revealing a lavish, dimly-lit office. Dark hardwood floors were mostly covered by a plush black rug, marble walls giving way to floor-to-ceiling windows opposite you. You eyed the long dining table in the center of the room, lit from above by tasteful glass chandeliers. Armchairs were angled around a lit fireplace, a crystal decanter still sweating condensation onto the table between them.

Your stomach twisted a bit at the sight. If the drink was still cold, it meant someone had been here recently. And judging by the half-finished glass sitting beside it, they planned on returning.

“I’m in,” you whispered as you strode through the doorway, shedding your fur wrap on the loveseat by the door. You walked around the dining table without taking your eyes from the grand mahogany desk beneath the windows.

“Good. We’ll tell you when the cameras go out.”

The computer on the desk was miraculously left unlocked, but the discovery did not comfort you. It only confirmed that the man who owned this office certainly planned on coming back soon.

You hastily pulled up the camera feed without looking at any of the footage. Every second you spent in this office was the ringing of your death knell. You clicked through screens as quickly as you could manage without tripping any cyber alarms, but it was still too slow.

“Anything?” Your voice was strained.

“Not yet,” Chan responded tightly. “Keep trying.”

You opened the computer’s control panel and typed in a few codes. God, why hadn’t you paid more attention when Lee Know showed you how to do this shit?

The computer screen flashed and you jumped, but Felix made an excited noise through your earpiece.

“Nice! Cameras are down.”

You straightened away from the desk and released a heavy breath. “Okay, where’s the safe?”

“Fireplace. One of our guys watched boss-man open the painting above the hearth.”

You laughed incredulously. “That’s not very creative.”

“I suppose you don’t have to be when you’re richer than sin.” Chan’s voice dripped with sarcasm and you grinned.

The fire burning was barely more than cinders at this point, but it warmed your bare legs as you approached the painting Felix had spoken of. You barely looked at it, only glimpsing dark hair and lifeless eyes as it swung away from the wall on hidden hinges.

Felix’s intel was right. Behind the painting was a small metal safe that was built into the wall, its digital screen lighting up as it detected motion.

“Code?” You stared at the number pad while Felix ruffled through his notes, the sound of papers moving filling your right ear.

“There are several written here. We’ve got three tries before the safe permanently locks and calls authorities.”

“Thanks, that’s reassuring,” you said through clenched teeth.

“Sorry. Try 0908.”

You obeyed. Your stomach nearly fell through the floor when the safe beeped angrily, the screen flashing red.

“Nope.”

“Shit, okay.” Felix’s anxiety was palpable. Your hands were beginning to shake, much to your annoyance. As much as you liked being on the ground like this rather than sending people to do it for you, it was stressful enough to give you an aneurysm. “Try 0419.”

The screen flashed again. “One more chance. Please don’t get me killed.”

Neither of them laughed, but you hadn’t expected them to. Jihyo was going to be so pissed if you died today.

It was Chan who spoke this time. “2518.”

You took another deep breath before punching in the numbers, pausing to pray between each. Your palms were sweating, your dress suddenly much too tight and scratchy against your skin.

2

5

1

8

The digital screen turned green. “Got it,” you breathed. The safe beeped cheerfully and the door popped open at the same moment Chan and Felix heaved identical sighs of relief.

You froze at the feeling of cold metal pressed against your temple.

You didn’t move to look at the person holding the gun. You just held your breath, your hand still resting lightly on the door of the safe.

“Brownie.” Your whisper was barely more than a breath of air moving.

“What did you say?” Felix asked, his voice raised with alarm.

You swallowed the panic in your throat as the owner of the gun released the safety with a soft click. The hammer pulled back and you resisted the urge to flinch.

“Brownie.”

You closed your eyes.

“Fuck, call H—”

The gun fired.

            You woke with what had to be the worst headache of your entire life.

There was an incessant buzzing in your left ear, the area of your scalp above it white-hot and pounding. You struggled to lift your head, instantly aware of the wetness along your hairline.

Blood. Shit. You were going to knock heads if it ruined your dress. You made a silent vow to kill whatever asshole had fired a blank at you from less than a foot away.

It took far too much effort to examine your surroundings, your vision blurry and breaths shallow. God, you couldn’t even think around the throbbing in your temple.

You noticed first that you were still in the office. Only now, you were seated at the dining table in the center of the room, your hands tied to the chair behind you. The gun you had brought with you on this mission, your father’s revolver, was laying in the center of the table.

All thoughts eddied from your mind when you noticed the seat across from you was occupied.

“Hello again, little bird.”

Mr. Chae smiled softly, his ruddy features made gaunt by the dim overhead lighting. You attempted to return the smile, but you were sure it looked more like a grimace.

“Fancy seeing you here,” you replied. Your voice was too weak, your throat too thick, for your quip to hit its mark. You couldn’t find it within yourself to be surprised that Mr. Chae was involved with the gang who owned this casino. All the billionaires were criminals in one way or another.

“I could say the same.” Mr. Chae leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table and smiled again. “This, little bird, is not your turf.”

“Not yours either, last time I checked.” You subtly pulled against the ropes binding your wrists and winced when they bit into your skin. “Where’s your boss?”

“Where’s your lover?”

You stilled. Was he… talking about Hyunjin? You cleared any of your surprise from your face before it could show. “I asked first.”

He shrugged. “What is he but always preoccupied?”

“Fascinating answer, you should go on Jeopardy.”

Perhaps taunting the man wasn’t your best option, but acting meek wasn’t your typical choice.

“Why are you here, little bird?”

You tugged on your bindings again as you straightened in your seat. “Stop calling me that. And why do you think? I came to gamble.” No chance in hell would you sell out Felix to this bastard.

Mr. Chae’s smile turned threatening and you worried that you’d said something wrong. You had the terrible feeling that he had been waiting for you to walk into a verbal trap.

He nodded with his chin to the revolver on the table. “And gamble you shall.” Mr. Chae stood and cracked his knuckles—was he seriously trying to intimidate you?—before walking slowly to your side of the dining table.

You didn’t bother to conceal the wary curiosity on your face when he cut the rope around your wrists. You rubbed the deep red lines on the joint as he returned to his seat. Your head was still pounding. The drying blood on your scalp was beginning to itch and you fought the urge to scratch it with a vengeance.

When he didn’t immediately speak again, you raised a brow. “So… what? If I win the staring contest I get to leave?”

Mr. Chae laughed, the sound gratingly fake in your ears. “No, little bird. You get to leave if the bullet in that gun doesn’t wind up in your head.” He motioned to your father’s revolver, the metal glittering ominously in the low light.

So this was his game. Russian roulette. Fine, then. You had played before and obviously hadn’t lost yet.

You leaned back in your seat, feigning nonchalance. The ache in your head was getting worse—you feared that if you so much as breathed wrong, you would vomit from the pain.

“What do you get out of this? Is my attempted theft of your boss really worth dying for?” You asked.

“Of course not. But the threat of death makes it interesting, no?”

Psycho. You switched gears, your eyes narrowed. “And who’s to say I won’t pick up that gun and shoot you? It would certainly be easier that way.”

Mr. Chae’s grin was so wide it slashed his face in half. “Because I know who killed your father.”

You scoffed immediately. “I hate to tell you this, Chae, but I already know who murdered my father. And Hwang has been dead for almost a year.”

“Are you certain of that?”

“What?”

When he answered, the entire world fell from beneath you.

“The late Mr. Hwang was not responsible for your father’s death.”

This time, you could not master the shock on your face. You opened and closed your mouth several times, unable to find words suitable for the storm of thoughts in your mind.

You settled on, “Then who did?”

“The same individual who killed your lover’s father in a play for control of the city.” Mr. Chae watched your reaction with glittering eyes, obviously savoring that he possessed information you didn’t.

It was impossible. There was absolutely no way.

Your eyes fell to the gun between you. “If we play… you’ll tell me who killed my dad?”

“One question per shot. Whoever lives, wins.”

You chewed on your lower lip, considering. Though you still didn’t understand what Mr. Chae would get out of this, he obviously had some agenda that he wasn’t telling you about. Whatever it was, it was obviously important enough to die for.

Mr. Chae saw your decision on your face before you spoke. He motioned with a hand toward the gun and smiled again. “Ladies first.”

Asshole.

You picked up the gun, attempting to hide the shakiness of your hands. Your head hurt so badly you wanted to scream. You checked through bleary eyes that there was only one bullet in the revolver, then spun the cylinder.

You raised your chin as you pressed the barrel to your temple. “Who murdered my father?”

Mr. Chae clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Well that’s no fun, is it? Try again.”

You rolled your eyes. “Fine. How do you know who killed him?”

The bastard paused expectantly, watching you with poorly-concealed excitement on his face. You licked your lips and sucked in a deep breath as you pulled the trigger.

Empty. The gun clicked and the air whooshed from your lungs in a rush. Mr. Chae leaned back in his seat, obviously disappointed.

“I am not only employed by the owner of this lovely establishment. My other boss, the more important of the two, was responsible for your father’s death. That’s how I know. Not only that, but I was aware of the scheme before it was carried out.”

You ignored the rage that coursed through you at his admission. Even if Mr. Chae hadn’t killed your father himself, he had known it was going to happen.

You slid the gun across the table, more than a little relieved to get the thing away from you. He picked it up and spun the cylinder immediately, wasting no time pressing it against his receded hairline.

“Why are you in this casino?”

You smiled softly. “Helping an old friend. Trying to get back in their good graces, I guess.”

“Liar. Tell me more.”

“That’s not how this works.”

Mr. Chae’s eyes flashed but he said nothing further. He sucked in a tight breath through his mouth, held it, and pulled the trigger as he exhaled.

You couldn’t help but be disappointed when the shot was blank. You were getting rather sick of the smile on Mr. Chae’s face, but it was still there as he pushed the gun across the table once again.

“There’s nothing more to tell,” you conceded as you picked up the revolver. “I wasn’t lying.” You held the barrel against your head and tried not to gag as your vision went in and out of focus. “I was in the next room when Hwang shot my father. I heard the shot go off, then saw him bolt. How is it possible he’s not the one who killed him?”

Mr. Chae leaned forward as you pulled the trigger, then slumped back in frustration when it was blank.

“He was there to warn him. The elder Hwang became aware of the plot to kill your father mere hours before the mission was completed.”

His casual referral to your father as a “mission” nearly made you vomit, but you gathered your wits before you could reveal how weak you felt.

Mr. Chae was slower to pick up the gun this time. You cocked your head with interest as he glanced nervously at the revolver, repeatedly wetting his lips with his tongue.

“No more questions?” You prodded, forcing your expression to remain aloof.

The smile he gave you would haunt you until the day you died, you were certain of it.

“Don’t say yes to his proposal. Most people flee from death, yet you are choosing to run into his arms.”

You froze. There was no way he could know about Hyunjin’s proposal. You could count on your fingers how many people knew he had asked you to marry him and none of them would dare spread that information.

“What are you talking about?” You bit out.

Mr. Chae held the gun to his temple, his hand surprisingly steady considering the game you were playing. “I suppose I’ve already asked my question, then. What will your answer be, little bird? Yes or no?”

A voice within you told you to close your eyes. Mr. Chae said something else, then, something that sent painful chills skittering across your skin.

The gun fired, the sound earsplitting in such a small space, and your ears rang in the wake of it.

You didn’t open your eyes. You knew what you would see.

The silence that followed was deafening. You drowned in it, your eyes screwed closed, as your stomach lurched.

His final words repeated through your mind in a sick mantra, going off like fireworks.

Your father’s killer calls themselves your friend.

The pounding in your head worsened and you stopped resisting it. Alone with Mr. Chae’s corpse and no idea as to why he pulled the trigger, you tumbled into unconsciousness.

Hyunjin had never felt fear like this in his entire life.

He strode through the casino with feral intent, completely disregarding every person he passed. The suit-clad security straightened at the sight of him, but they didn’t dare approach. Not with the small army of men he’d brought with him hot on his heels.

“The office is this way,” Chan instructed from Hyunjin’s side, a teary-eyed Felix beside him. The blond boy had been unable to speak upon Hyunjin’s arrival—every time he tried, tears threatened to spill onto his cheeks and his throat tightened beyond words.

It’s my fault, it’s my fault, Felix had kept repeating.

That hadn’t alarmed Hyunjin. Felix often cried, and it was one of the reasons he was so dear to him. What had truly set panic roiling in his gut, though, was the alarm on Chan’s face.

We don’t know what happened. A gun fired and she went dark.

It’s my fault—

I’m sorry, Jin, I think she’s—

It’s my fault, it’s all my fault—

Hyunjin’s heart galloped unsteadily in his chest as they rounded the corner into a smaller hallway branching off from the main room. He didn’t need instruction to find the office his friend had spoken of. A little ways down the corridor, one of the doors was ajar.

A gunshot echoed through the air, originating from the office they walked toward. Hyunjin immediately broke into a run and the men around him did the same, guns drawn and cocked in less than a second.

If there was anyone left in there, if they had hurt you…

Every ounce of rage in his mind bowed to panic when he stepped through the doorway.

There were bodies in this room.

And one of them was yours.

Hyunjin stumbled forward, completely ignoring the man’s corpse slumped at the table across from you. There was a revolver in his hand, the barrel still smoking. So much blood, on the man, on the table, the floor, everything. Hyunjin forced himself not to look, to focus on you—

He tossed his gun on the table as his men fanned into the room and he took your face in his hands. He could have wept with relief when you took a shuddering breath.

Not dead, not dead, not dead

Your eyes were closed, your breathing too shallow, and blood caked your hair to your head and the side of your face. But you weren’t dead. Hyunjin thanked every star in the sky for each rattling breath you took.

“Look at me, baby. Please, open your eyes.” His voice was surprisingly steady, and somewhere in your subconscious you were certain an angel was speaking to you. “Look at me.”

Your eyes did not open. Beneath the blood on your face, there was a shallow wound—a burn, it looked like, and Hyunjin realized abruptly that a blank had been fired directly against your temple.

He was going to murder someone. Anyone, everyone, it didn’t matter.

Hyunjin was distantly aware of Chan looking over you for other injuries as he urged you again to open your eyes. The moment his friend nodded, he slid his arms beneath you and hauled you into his arms. There was blood all over you, staining the formal dress you wore, but Hyunjin didn’t care in the slightest.

He strode from the room without looking back at the dead man you’d been seated across from. He looked familiar, but between the wounds and blood, it was difficult to discern his face. His men would find out—no, you would tell him when you woke up. You, no one else.

Hyunjin caught Felix’s eye as he passed through the doorway. His friend was still crying, worse now than before he’d seen the state of you.

“I told her to let me come with her,” Felix breathed, his eyes wide. “She… I’m so sorry.”

He couldn’t be angry with him. Not until he knew what had happened here.

You stirred in Hyunjin’s arms as he walked, unconsciously nestling closer to his warmth. You were shaking, likely from more than just the cold.

“I…”

Hyunjin didn’t slow as you spoke, though he tilted his head down to catch your whispers. “What did you say? Say it again for me, baby.”

“I… I didn’t… kill him.”

“Who?”

“…Mr. Chae.”

That was Mr. Chae in there? Hyunjin drew back a little, surprised, but leaned toward you again when you continued speaking.

“He asked—asked me…”

“What did he ask you?”

“The answer… is—is yes.” You grimaced as Hyunjin exited the casino doors, immediately striding for the nondescript black SUV waiting in the shadows. “I would have said yes.”

For seven glorious seconds after waking, you were blissfully unaware.

But the moment the memories came crashing back, your eyes snapped open like a gun had gone off. You looked around, disoriented, at a bedroom that did not belong to you.

You had been here before.

Though Hyunjin’s bedroom looked very much the same as it had a month ago, its décor was softened by the dim morning light filtering through the windows.

Your head hurt. You probed your sore temple with your fingertips and grimaced at the sharp pain that echoed through your skull. Mercifully, though, the blood had been washed away while you slept. Your hair was soft and clean, your ruined dress replaced by a large cotton t-shirt.

Who had cleaned you? Hyunjin?

The moment his name crossed your mind, you noticed the long body that was draped over yours. His breathing was deep and even, his arm slung over your waist as he held you to him. He was deliciously warm, almost fever-hot against your skin.

You gazed down at Hyunjin’s sleeping face, his cheek pressed against your sternum. His eyelashes fluttered as he dreamed, his expression more relaxed than you had ever seen it awake.

“…Hyunjin?” You croaked. Your voice was a hoarse whisper, like you hadn’t spoken in years.

His nose scrunched as he stirred. Hyunjin’s eyes cracked open and he looked up at you, eyes bleary. For half a moment, there was only exhausted affection on his face.

Hyunjin shot upright, instantly alert. Concern contorted his expression as he looked over you, his hands hovering like he wasn’t sure where he could touch you without causing you pain.

“What happened?” You roughly cleared your throat. “How did I get here?”

Hyunjin’s shoulders slumped, seemingly with relief. His hands at last fell to rest on top of your thighs and his fingers gently squeezed the muscles there.

“I brought you.”

“Why? How long have I been out?”

“Two days.” You tried not to gape as he spoke. Two days? “I’m sorry, I wanted to be awake when you woke up.”

It was obvious that he’d tried. There were deep, bruise-like shadows beneath his eyes and you were certain this was the first time he’d slept since you’d been here.

“What happened?” You asked again.

Hyunjin’s eyes lifted to meet yours and you bristled at the angry light that abruptly filled them. “Care to tell me why you were playing Russian roulette with Chae Shinwon?”

Your head throbbed as you frowned. “Trust me, I wouldn’t have if I had the choice.” You tried to rid the image of Mr. Chae’s smile from your mind, still contorting his face mere seconds before he pulled the trigger.

“Then why were you even in the casino?”

“It doesn’t matter.” You weren’t sure how much Hyunjin knew and no way would you get Felix in trouble.

A muscle in Hyunjin’s jaw ticked as he ground his teeth. “Fine. You’re aware that you could have died?”

“I’m not stupid, Jin.”

“Could have fooled me.”

You stared at one another in terse silence while you seethed. You had almost died and Hyunjin had the nerve to sit here and interrogate you?

You leaned back against the pillows, abruptly exhausted. “I can’t do this right now. My head hurts and you’re being a dick.”

Hyunjin’s expression softened and he leaned forward to examine the side of your head. You watched him through narrowed eyes but made no move to get away from him.

You remained motionless as he shifted and winced in pain when his lips ghosted over the wound on your temple. No wonder your head hurt. A blank fired at such close range should have killed you and it was a miracle that it hadn’t.

“How are you feeling?” He breathed against your skin, moving his head so his lips could trail across your jaw. Chills rose on your bare legs.

“Like I lost a fight with a semi.”

Hyunjin laughed breathily. “Understandable.”

“And you?” Your voice was strained, though not from pain this time. You were hyperaware of Hyunjin’s hands still gently massaging your thighs and the heat of his body seeping into yours. “You must be exhausted, having watched me sleep like a creep for two days.”

“Nothing I can’t handle. I was having a wonderful dream before you woke me up, though.”

Hyunjin’s mouth worked its way to the other side of your face, pressing feather-light kisses to your chin, your jaw, your cheekbone. Your fists bunched the sheets on either side of you, your body suddenly much too warm.

“What were you dreaming about?”

“You and me. We were in Fiji.”

You laughed, though it sounded more like a heavy exhale. Over the course of yours and Hyunjin’s relationship, you had spoken of Fiji more times than you could count.

“That sounds like a wonderful dream.” You meant it. In another life, you had wanted nothing greater in the world than to lay out on a beach with the man currently worshipping your cheekbones.

This was dangerous. To let him kiss you like this, with such peace and fondness, was a bad idea considering everything that had happened.

Regardless, you remained perfectly still. Your breathing deepened as your core tightened, wetness pooling between your legs when Hyunjin’s teeth gently nipped at your jaw.

“Have you thought any more on my question?”

That brought you back to reality. He seemed to notice when your breath caught because he leaned back to examine your expression. Your heart thudded unevenly when the subtle hope in his eyes dimmed.

“Jin…” You trailed off and swallowed thickly.

“Don’t do that.”

You moved your hands to rest lightly on his waist, appreciating the lean muscle that flexed beneath your touch. “I haven’t stopped thinking about it.”

“And?”

Your throat worked, completely at a loss for an answer. To marry him… it wasn’t possible. The idea of joining your Families, most of which had spent generations hating one another, was a task that felt too overwhelming to even consider. Not even taking into account your own feelings.

“I…” You blinked rapidly, frustrated with the tightness in your throat. “Jin, I—”

“Don’t say it.” Hyunjin’s expression turned unexpectedly earnest as he took your face between his hands. “Say nothing. Choose to say nothing.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“You can. I beg of you, just…” Hyunjin pressed his forehead to yours and your eyes fluttered closed. “Let me show you. I can prove to you that it’s possible.”

“How?”

“I love you.” Your heart stilled. He continued, his voice no more than a strained whisper, “I never stopped loving you, not for a moment. You are my life, as I know I am yours. Why are you so desperate to push me away?”

You had no answer he would accept. In truth, no one you loved was safe. If you allowed yourself to love him, even for a moment, it was as good as putting a bullet in his head.

 “Hyunjin, please—”

Rather than respond with words, he crushed his lips to yours. Your mouth parted for him immediately, his tongue sweeping in to taste you. His hands still on your face fell to your neck and he tugged you closer.

You arched your back into him and groaned low in your throat. All thoughts of your headache fled from your mind in lieu of pounding, incessant need.

“Please, please,” Hyunjin murmured into your mouth. “Let me show you. Marry me. Just let me—” He cut himself off as he once again captured your lips in his own. Your fingers tangled into his hair, tugging on the soft strands with urgency.

You laid back against the pillows and Hyunjin followed. Your legs raised to wrap around his hips immediately, trapping him to you as he ground against your clothed core. You moaned into his mouth at the sensation—the hard length of him that was already pressing insistently into you.

This was a terrible idea. Hyunjin had just asked you to marry him. Again.

You moaned in unison when he rolled his hips into yours. He panted as he hastily moved from your lips to your throat, sucking harsh marks onto your skin. You savored the sting, the subtle pain that woke something deep inside you.

His warm tongue laved across your throat and he bit down on your collarbone. You gasped and clenched around nothing, still woefully empty. Your hands dove beneath his sleep shirt, savoring the hard muscle beneath your palms.

Hyunjin worked his way down your body slowly, stopping to worship any part of you that was within his reach. He had your soft t-shirt—his shirt—off your body in less than a second, leaving you only in your underwear.

He kneaded your breasts in his hands for all of three seconds before he was overcome with the desire to taste them. His mouth was hot and wet, drawing whimpers from your throat as he swirled his tongue around one of your nipples. The sensitive bud pebbled when he moved to your other breast, wet with his saliva in the chill room.

A continuous stream of whines and moans left your mouth that you were completely helpless to stop. No one, no one, made you feel as good as Hyunjin did. He knew your body like he had created it himself in one of his paintings.

You stopped him when he moved to wedge his shoulders between your thighs. He gazed up at you, confusion coloring his pretty cheeks, and you smiled.

“Take off your shirt.”

Hyunjin had never followed your instruction so quickly in his life. He sat up to strip his t-shirt from his body and you took a moment to admire him in silence. He was perfect. Literally perfect.

Chills danced across his skin, growing in intensity when you reached out to trail your fingernails across his toned stomach. If there were ever a question as to if you affected him, this sight was answer enough.

He allowed you to roll him until he was on his back with you straddling his hips. You pressed your open mouth to one of his pecs, taking his nipple into your mouth the way he had with yours. He released a vulgar moan as one of his hands wound into your hair, pulling lightly at the roots.

You left hasty kisses across his skin, aware of his impatience the longer you stalled. You couldn’t help yourself. He was so pretty when he was worked up. This had always been the easy part of your relationship with Hyunjin—no matter what else happened, your bodies had been crafted for one another.

When you reached the waistband of his pants, you stopped to gaze up at him from beneath your lashes. His eyes were hooded with lust and glittering when they met yours, his face and neck flushed.

“What’s your color, baby?” You breathed, allowing your fingertips to trail over the clothed length of him. His cock twitched in response and you smiled at the way his chest heaved.

“The greenest it’s ever fucking been,” he half-groaned.

He lifted his hips to help you pull his pants down and off, and your mouth dried when his achingly hard cock sprang free. It, like his face, was flushed an angry red, an obscene amount of precum gathering at the tip.

You licked his slit with the tip of your tongue and he released what had to be the hottest moan you’d ever fucking heard.

He quickly proved you wrong when you wrapped your lips around him and sucked hard. You hollowed your cheeks and bobbed your head immediately, pumping the length you couldn’t fit with your hand. Hyunjin’s hips jerked upward involuntarily and he lewdly groaned again.

“Oh my god—ah, god—doing so well for me, baby.”

He wasn’t going to last a minute, he was sure of it. You took him into your throat like it was your life’s mission to do so, and he seriously thought he would die the first time you swallowed around him.

You gagged, tears beading at the corners of your eyes. You ignored it completely as his fingers tangled into your hair, gentle around the small burn mark on your temple. He guided you up and down on his length, using your mouth as he recklessly climbed higher.

You looked up at his face as you continued to bob your head. The sight made you clench again, your core white-hot in your desperation to be touched. Hyunjin looked completely overcome by pleasure, his full lips parted and one of his forearms thrown over his face.

“Please, baby, pleasepleaseplease—”

You hummed around him at the same time your tongue dragged across the vein on the underside of his cock, and he was gone. Hyunjin’s entire body locked as he came. His breaths ceased completely for several seconds before resuming in a rush, his entire body shaking as he released down your throat.

“Holy shit—thank you, thank you…”

This time, you took everything he gave you. You swallowed greedily, attempting to prolong his pleasure with your tongue as long as you could.

It was only when he was shaking with overstimulation that you allowed him to push you off of him. You wiped the corners of your mouth with your thumb and proceeded to suck the drops of his cum off of it, ensuring he was watching before you did so. He groaned again, low in his throat.

Hyunjin gazed at you with nothing short of pure adoration. His hands raised to cradle your face again, his fingers exploring your features with heartbreaking gentleness.

You laid your hands atop his and just stared at one another in careful silence for several moments. This, the part you knew was coming, was the hard part.

“I am…” Hyunjin swallowed roughly and began again. “I am very glad you’re not dead.”

You laughed softly, though your voice broke in the middle. “Me too, Jinnie. Thank you for finding me.”

“I’ll always find you.”

You chose to ignore the way your heart shattered. “How did you, anyway?”

“Find you?” Hyunjin’s expression darkened slightly. “Felix called me. He was… very scared for you.”

You swallowed the guilty lump in your throat. “I’m sorry.”

“I know. He’ll probably burst into tears again when he sees that you’re awake. He really thought he killed you for a minute there.”

“Not quite.” You winced as you spoke and probed your injured temple with your fingertips. Perhaps sex wasn’t the best idea, but you truly couldn’t help yourself around Hyunjin.

He noticed your pained expression and his face tightened with alarm. “Shit, did I hurt you?” You stilled as he leaned forward to examine the side of your face. His fingers drifted over the wound and came away red. “Fuck, baby, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t even thinking—come on.”

You didn’t have time to protest as he took your hand and, both of you naked except for your still soaked underwear, dragged you to the door he had once indicated as the bathroom.

You looked around as he started the shower. The décor matched his bedroom, for the most part, except there were more touches of modernism in here. Black marble countertops and waterfall sinks, the glass walk-in shower taking up one of the walls completely; one of his paintings hung above a deep porcelain tub and another by the door.

He placed one of your hands on his shoulder to balance yourself as he helped you step out of your underwear. Your body hurt more than you’d realized—muscles you hadn’t even known you possessed were aching.

You relaxed the moment you stepped beneath the stream of hot water. Hyunjin followed you into the shower and immediately grabbed the shampoo sitting on the bench.

You eyed him warily as he dumped what was definitely too much of the soap into his hand. “What are you doing?”

Hyunjin scrunched his nose at you, one of the most human expressions you’d ever seen him make. “What does it look like?” He gently tilted your head back, unintentionally making you step closer to him at the same time. You stopped protesting the moment his fingers threaded into your hair, working the shampoo into a lather. “I’m taking care of you.”

Your eyes fluttered closed and you sighed. He was careful to avoid the reopened wound on your temple, occasionally leaning forward to press a soft kiss to your forehead, your cheekbone, your nose. Each occurrence broke your heart more than the one before.

You allowed him to turn you so the water could rinse your hair, then remained motionless as he repeated his ministrations with conditioner. The products smelled like him—the knowledge that now you would too made your throat constrict.

It wasn’t until he was cleaning the small amount of blood from your temple with a washcloth that he spoke again. “I wish you would stop putting yourself in danger.”

You opened your eyes to find his face mere inches from yours. Though he was careful to look only at the injury he was cleaning, his mouth was bracketed with tension.

“I can’t do that. It’s the nature of what we do.” You replied softly. It wasn’t a lie, though you once again chose not to mention Felix’s involvement in your presence at the casino. You made a mental note to talk to your friend later, if only to convince him that you were fine.

“I still wish we could run away from all this.”

You smiled sadly. “So do I.”

Hyunjin finished cleaning your temple and discarded the washcloth on the bench, but he didn’t look you in the eye. Rather than force him to speak, you picked up the same shampoo he’d used and squeezed a dollop into your hand.

“What are you doing?” He repeated your question back to you but didn’t move away as you stood on your tiptoes to reach his hair.

Your attempt to rein in your smile didn’t quite work. Skepticism, it seemed, was also in the nature of what you did.

“Taking care of you.” You whispered. Hyunjin stood motionless as you massaged the shampoo into his scalp. He appeared to relax the longer you worked and you were certain that if he could start purring, he would.

Chills rose on your skin when Hyunjin’s wet hands ghosted over your waist. His fingers drew gentle shapes across your ribs, your stomach, your hipbones, and you determinedly tried to ignore the slickness once again growing between your thighs.

His hands did not drift lower, to your relief and frustration. He just continued to touch you simply because he could. You moved on to conditioner, then carefully rinsed the product from his hair. He stared down at you once you’d finished, neither of you daring to break the silence.

When he at last pressed his lips to yours, it felt like waking up. He kissed you softly, slowly, like he had all the time in the world to do so. And somehow, this kiss turned you on more than the desperate, hasty ones you had exchanged earlier.

You moaned breathily when his hands found your ass, languidly massaging the pillowy skin there. He walked you backwards until your back hit the tile wall. It was startlingly cold compared to his heated torso pressed against your front, but you couldn’t bring yourself to mind as you brought your arms up over his shoulders.

He bent to kiss your throat, trailing kisses over the marks he’d left earlier. At this point, you would never have a day that you could walk around without evidence of Hyunjin decorating your body.

One of his hands worked its way to the front of your body and finally, finally, between your thighs. He dragged his fingers through your slick, stopping briefly to tease your clit while you exhaled shakily. You had been turned on for so long without any contact that his touch felt like fireworks.

He groaned when his fingertips found your soaked entrance and were sucked in slightly by your walls. “Always so wet for me.”

 His other hand hiked your leg up around his waist and your head fell against the wall behind you. He could reach so much deeper in this position, effortlessly finding that spot inside of you that was begging for his attention. You watched him through hooded eyes as he watched you. Something in his expression twitched every time you moaned, like your responses to his touch were driving him wild.

“Hyunjin,” you gasped out, grasping uselessly at his slick biceps. With his pelvis pressed snugly against your hip, you could feel without looking that he was completely hard again. He thrusted against you gently, seeking any degree of friction he could find.

You groaned particularly loud when his thumb circled your clit and Hyunjin reached his limit. He effortlessly picked up your other leg so you weren’t touching the ground at all, instead supported only by his hold and the wall behind you.

You both released twin sighs of relief when his cock slid easily into you. The stretch took your breath away. Hyunjin thrusted into you slowly and his forehead fell against yours.

Your fingernails dragged through his wet hair at the base of his skull as you kissed him again. Hyunjin’s hips picked up their pace just enough to make you clench around him and he groaned.

“You fucking terrify me.” He moaned into your mouth. His hips snapped into yours and you couldn’t find the words to respond around the pleasure. “I have never felt as afraid as I did when I saw you in that casino.”

You couldn’t imagine what he must have seen when he walked into that godforsaken office. He’d probably thought you were dead.

“What do I have to do to get you to admit you love me?” The head of his cock bumped your g-spot in time with his words. You were tumbling dangerously close to your orgasm.

“Fuck, Hyunjin—”

“You’re fucking perfect, you know that? I will never fucking deserve you.” Hyunjin took you in an open-mouthed kiss, his tongue dominating yours.

His fingers found your clit again, expertly rubbing the shapes he knew you loved onto it. Your walls clamped down hard around him and he whimpered desperately.

“Come on, baby, cum for me. I’ve got you—”

“Holy shit, Hyunjin—”

When you came, it felt like a star was exploding in your veins. Warmth blossomed in your core and spread to the tips of your toes, momentarily paralyzing you as pleasure crested over you.

Hyunjin continued thrusting into you as your walls repeatedly fluttered around his cock. He gasped as he, too, found his release for the second time. His cum was warm as it filled you, mixing with your own release and dripping down your thighs.

Your orgasm felt like it would never end. Waves of euphoria rocked through you to the point of pain, and Hyunjin kissed you through it all. When you at last returned to earth, you felt like nothing more than air.

For several minutes, neither of you moved. He held you against the wall, his softening cock still nestled in your walls as the water began to cool.

“Thank you for saving me,” you finally whispered. You voice was barely audible over the sound of the shower running.

Hyunjin smiled softly. “I don’t think you need anyone to save you.”

“Regardless.”

He nodded and let you down, waiting to release you until he was sure you had your footing. You allowed him to clean you up without speaking, recoiling a little from overstimulation when he paused to push his release back into you.

Hyunjin turned off the water and used a towel to dry you off, then himself.

“Are you ever going to tell me why you were playing Russian roulette with Chae?” He asked at last. You had been waiting for him to continue pushing, but you were hoping to at least be dressed before that conversation happened.

While you considered your answer, Hyunjin left briefly to grab clean clothes. Once dressed in a new t-shirt and sweatpants, he leaned against the marble counter to wait.

You pulled the sweater he’d given you over your head, inwardly savoring the scent of him that clung to it. “He knocked me out with a blank to my head. When I came to, I was tied to a chair at the dining table and my father’s revolver between us. Did you ever find that?”

Hyunjin nodded tightly. “It’s with Felix.”

“Good. I didn’t really have a choice as to whether I wanted to play or not. It was either take my chances in the game or he would shoot me outright. I chose the former.”

Hyunjin’s eyes glittered darkly. “I’m glad he’s dead.”

You were inclined to share the sentiment. You continued, “Anyway, he claimed to have information about my father’s—”

You stopped short.

Your father’s killer calls themselves your friend.

“What is it?” Hyunjin asked, concern lighting his features. You swallowed the lump in your throat. It was suddenly very difficult to look him in the eye. You were drawn back to the present when his hand cupped your cheek, forcing you to raise your gaze. “Seriously, what happened just now? Where did you go?”

You cleared your throat. “Chae… he told me something.”

“And?”

“He… said he knew who murdered my father.”

Hyunjin’s expression turned to one of confusion. “We know who killed your father.”

“I thought so too. But… Hyunjin, we were wrong. Your father didn’t kill mine.”

“What?”

Hyunjin stepped away from you, his face slack with shock. You crossed your arms over your chest and nodded. You understood his disbelief—you were still feeling much of it yourself.

“The coward shot himself before he could tell me who did it. All he said was that the person who killed my dad is the same one who killed yours, and he seemed to think I already knew them. That they’re parading around as a friend.”

Hyunjin stared at you blankly. You stared back, attempting to get a read on his expression, but there was nothing. His eyes were abruptly guarded, any trace of affection he felt put aside for the time being.

“And you believe him?” He finally asked. You hesitated, considering, but nodded a moment later.

“He had no real reason to lie. Why he was willing to die, though, I still have no idea.”

Hyunjin nodded. “This… complicates things. Whoever killed our fathers was looking for control of the city. They obviously didn’t expect for us to rise to power like we did.”

You could agree with that. Yours and Hyunjin’s ascension to your respective thrones had been unprecedented. You were the youngest leaders to assume control in generations and it seemed no one had expected for you to excel at it as much as you did.

Hyunjin’s expression shifted before he spoke again. “You know what this means, right?” He asked.

You raised an eyebrow. “No, what?”

When Hyunjin smiled, it was the face of an avenging angel staring back at you. “You and I have work to do, Viper Queen.”

YUHHH PART THREE!!! I hope you all enjoyed reading, part four coming to a neighborhood near you soon! please like/reblog if you liked it, bye loves!

masterlist here :)

© minghaoyoudoin 2022 - all rights reserved. reposts/translations not allowed. I do not assume to know the personal lives of the idol(s) depicted in this fic, this is for entertainment purposes only!

You had known for years that your boyfriend was a talented dancer.

If you had a quarter for every dance practice you’d stayed late to watch, every fancam you’d streamed for him… well, it was safe to say you would own a ridiculous amount of quarters.

But somehow, seeing Seunghun on stage tonight was different than anything you’d ever seen before. You had attended all three days of the concert, determined to support him in every way you could. On the first night, your jaw had hit the floor when he’d walked out in his long white jacket, nothing but a harness and bare skin underneath. The second night, you thought you wouldn’t be so shocked at the sight, the pure beauty and perfection that was him, but you’d been very, very wrong.

Now, on the third and final night of their concert, Seunghun had managed to shock you once again. Perhaps it was excitement, maybe adrenaline at finally being able to perform in front of their fans—at the end of the day, it didn’t really matter.

Because your boyfriend was basically naked on stage.

You watched with wide eyes as Seunghun rolled his hips in time with the music. You could hardly form a coherent thought around the sight of sweat coating his skin, glittering beneath the stage lights. His voice sounded heavenly—much like it usually did—but you couldn’t bring yourself to focus on the sound.

You watched in stunned, open-mouthed silence from your place at the edge of the crowd, stubbornly ignoring the growing ache between your legs. As if you could ever forget it, watching him now… you were reminded that Kim Seunghun was nothing short of magnificent.

Too fast, the song ended. You swallowed thickly when the lights faded and were unable to help the smile that spread across your face when Seunghun sprinted offstage, his arms crossed over his bare chest.

You wordlessly turned and made your way to the backstage door. No one noticed as you showed your ID to security and they nodded, holding the door open just wide enough for you to squeeze through.

You’d been to this concert twice now. Jinyoung’s solo stage was just beginning on the stage behind you, and Byounggon would go after him. And during that time, there was only one thing on your mind.

You were going to jump Seunghun’s bones.

Hyunsuk gave you a warm smile when he spotted you in the hall, which promptly morphed into a nervous grimace when he recognized the expression on your face.

“He’s in the dressing room,” he pointed over his shoulder at a door behind him, blushing furiously. “You have, like, ten minutes.”

“Believe me, that’s plenty.” You gave him a high-five as you marched past him.

When you entered the dressing room, Seunghun was chugging from a water bottle like he’d never tasted anything so good in his life.

And he still wasn’t wearing a shirt.

His face split into a wide grin the moment he saw you. Seunghun’s chest rapidly rose and fell, exertion from his solo dance causing sweat to drip down his lean torso.

“Baby? What are you doing back here?” He reached out like he meant to wrap you into a hug, his smile so brilliant it took your breath away. “Did you like the stage today? I think I might have gone a little too far with the—”

His words cut off in a gasp when you pushed him against the counter, his hands immediately scrambling to find purchase on its edge. Your own hands roved over his sweat-drenched abdomen, your fingers trailing beneath the straps of his harness.

When your lips found his, it was not the usual genre of kiss you and Seunghun liked to share. In your current state, your panties already soaked through and sticking to your core, you couldn’t convince yourself to kiss him sweetly or playfully.

No, you needed him inside you. Right now.

Seunghun, to his credit, recovered quickly. His fingers immediately tangled into your hair, holding you against him while he kissed you with equal urgency. He released a soft groan into your mouth when you gently rolled his nipples between your fingers.

“What’s this about?” He said against your lips. You savored the feeling of his heated skin, the sweat beneath your palms, as you trailed your hands down his body. You bit his bottom lip at the same time you softly squeezed him through his pants.

Seunghun moaned softly. You dropped to your knees in front of him, so painfully turned on that you felt like you might burst into flames.

His fingertips massaged your scalp as you hastily undid his pants, Seunghun’s hips already thrusting gently as he sought some degree of friction. Pleasure coursed through you in a burning wave when you discovered he was already hard, precum beading at the head of his cock.

You pumped him slowly in your hand as you gazed up at him through your eyelashes. Faint pink dusted his cheeks as he met your eyes and he whimpered breathily when you kissed his tip.

“What on earth made you like this?” Seunghun’s words were more of a drawn-out moan as you took him into your mouth, immediately hollowing your cheeks and sucking hard.

You removed him briefly to respond simply, “You.”

Seunghun’s breathing turned to shallow pants when you swirled your tongue around the head of his cock. You took him completely down your throat this time, forcibly ignoring your gag reflex in your haste to make him cum.

He hissed as you swallowed around him. The noises Seunghun made only added fuel to the wildfire blazing inside you—the pretty sounds your boyfriend rewarded you with were some of your favorite in the world.

“Shit—ah, I don’t, I’m—” Seunghun’s hands fisted in your hair, guiding your head along his cock as you swallowed again. You ignored the tears gathering at the corners of your eyes as Seunghun used your mouth, recklessly chasing his orgasm with enthusiasm that had you clenching around nothing.

Without warning, he pushed you away.

You had no time to protest his sudden movement before you were propped on the counter, your positions switched too fast to process.

Seunghun’s mouth immediately latched onto your throat, sucking your too-warm skin hard enough to bruise. You moaned, so eager to be filled that you didn’t care to check your volume. Jinyoung’s stage was drawing to a close—you were on borrowed time.

“God, you’re so desperate for me, baby.” Seunghun trailed wet kisses across your collarbones until he reached the other side of your throat, leaving hickies in his wake. “My dancing turned you on that much?”

You didn’t bother responding with words. You shoved your panties down your legs at the same time you hiked your dress up, exposing your dripping center to him. Seunghun groaned low in his throat and, almost like he couldn’t help himself, he dragged two fingers through your slick.

That first touch sent lightning streaking through your veins. You locked your legs around Seunghun’s waist and tugged him closer as he stepped hastily out of his pants.

“Hun, play later.”

The desperation in your voice must have worked, because Seunghun wasted no time guiding the head of his cock through your folds, coating it with your arousal. And when he finally fitted himself into your entrance, pushing in only an inch, you both gasped at the sensation.

The initial stretch of him was always incredible. His body was perfectly proportioned for yours, and moments like this only proved that belief.

He slammed into you without warning, earning a sharp cry from your lips. Then he began to move, and you knew you wouldn’t last a minute.

The hard pace he set had your walls clamping down hard around him with every brush to your g-spot. Seunghun’s fingers dug into your hipbones, his strong hands using your body for support as he thrusted into you.

You watched him through hooded eyes, hardly able to keep them open at all through the fog of lust clouding your mind. Seunghun’s teeth were fastened onto his bottom lip, his eyes locked on the place your bodies collided, over and over again.

If he had been sweaty before, it was nothing compared to now. Sweat glistened on his forehead, his neck, his abs—there was nothing in the world that could have convinced you to look away from him. Your hands found his toned waist, holding onto him for dear life as he fucked you senseless.

“Oh god—Seunghun, please, please—” You rambled on, your orgasm rising within you with record-breaking speed. You bit the back of your fist to silence your moans but Seunghun forced your hand away immediately.

“Don’t—ah—do that, I need to hear y-you, baby.” His words were broken by gasps as you continued to clench around his cock. Byounggon’s solo performance was beginning now, you could hear his voice through the speakers in the ceiling, but you didn’t care that Seunghun might be late returning to the stage.

If you didn’t cum right this second, you were in very real danger of combusting.

Your fingers found the harness still strapped to Seunghun’s chest. You grasped the leather so hard your knuckles strained as you used your grip to pull him closer. Seunghun’s tongue greedily dove into your mouth when you crushed your lips against his.

His thrusts turned sloppy, beginning to lose his rhythm as his high threatened to break over him.

“Come on, baby,” you moaned into his mouth. “Cum for me, please—”

When Seunghun’s fingers found your clit, rubbing frantic circles over it in time with the movement of his hips, it was the thing you needed to push you over the edge. You released a lewd moan as you came hard enough to see stars.

Your walls constricted around Seunghun’s cock, forcing his orgasm from him, as well. Seunghun’s eyes screwed shut as he groaned, his sweaty forehead falling against yours. You savored every twitch and throb of his cock inside you as he came, the sensations drawing out your orgasm to the point of pain.

You paid no mind to the odd sensation of Seunghun’s cock languidly fucking his cum back into you. Your breaths turned heavy, slower than before in your satisfaction, as you brushed his sweat-soaked hair from his eyes.

He grinned at you, the sparkle of mischief in his eyes drawing intense affection from deep within your chest.

“Sorry I acted like that,” you said sheepishly, smiling into the soft kiss he pressed to your lips. “I’m sure it’ll happen again.”

“I’ll wear this thing every damn day if it means we can do that again.” Seunghun pulled his softening cock from you at last, and you grimaced lightly at the overstimulation. He grabbed a clean rag from the pile on the counter and used it to gently clean you up, smiling smugly to himself all the while.

Byounggon’s stage was close to ending now.

You both seemed to realize this fact simultaneously and Seunghun’s eyes nearly popped out of his head at the shock. He was already naked—thanks to you—and you laughed as he haphazardly tore off the harness and shrugged on the muscle tee and jeans he was supposed to be wearing.

He planted another chaste kiss on your mouth before he half-fell through the dressing room door. Ever the gentleman, he slammed it behind him before anyone in the hallway could see your compromising position.

Alone, you grinned at your fucked-out reflection in the mirror across from you and made a note to keep the harness around after the show was done.

If you had anything to say about it, you would certainly need it.

thanks for reading, my loves! please leave a like and/or reblog if you're a simp for kim seunghun!! 🙋‍♀️

masterlist here :)

A pan clattered.

You looked up from the book in front of you and craned your neck to look through your open bedroom door. You couldn’t see the kitchen from your place at your desk, but you watched Vernon’s distorted shadow drift across the wall as he moved.

“Babe?” You called, a strained smile on your lips. “Everything going okay in there?”

There was a beat of silence before Vernon yelled back, “Yes, uh… everything’s fine. You definitely do not have to come in here.”

Okay, so you definitely did need to go in there.

You stood slowly, taking a moment to stretch your tight muscles. Sitting for hours on end wasn’t good for you, but it was the nature of your job. Poring over books older than your grandparents for the sake of a museum wasn’t typically something that could be done while running.

You rounded the corner into the kitchen like you were sneaking up on a wild cat. Don’t move too fast, don’t make a sound, don’t startle him.

Vernon was standing in front of the stove, wielding a package of raw bacon in one hand and a spatula in the other like they were swords. You covered your mouth to stifle your laugh.

You watched him for a moment, affection for the boy swelling in your chest. Half his hair stuck up straight on his head, a strange cowlick curling at the nape of his neck. The white t-shirt he wore beautifully showcased the muscles in his back—which you did not admire, thank you very much—but his plaid pajama pants were baggy, tied low around his hips.

You finally moved from your place in the hall when an ominous plume of smoke rose from the stove in front of him.

Vernon didn’t notice your presence as you peered around his shoulder, attempting to assess the damage. You grimaced.

He’d chosen to make pancakes, usually a wonderful choice—when they weren’t black on one side and completely raw on the other. You quickly identified the source of the smoke as the pancake currently cooking.

“I think that one’s done.” You advised quietly.

Vernon jumped so hard he nearly knocked his head against the range hood.

So much for not startling him.

He whipped around, still holding his breakfast-themed swords as he stared guiltily down at you. “Baby, you scared the shit out of me. How long have you been there?”

You tracked his movements as he set down the items in his hands so he could pull you against him. Around the scent of burnt food, he smelled incredible. Traces of his cologne from yesterday still clung to his skin and there was a faint undertone of you from the night before. You wrapped your arms around his waist and inhaled greedily, unable to get enough.

You responded at last, “Why, are you doing something wrong?”

Vernon pulled back and softly flicked your forehead. “Of course not. I’m making you breakfast.”

“So that’s what all the racket was about.”

He smiled, a tinge of embarrassed color dusting his cheeks. “I really thought I’d be able to do it this time.”

You laughed and disentangled yourself from his arms. This wasn’t the first time Vernon had attempted to cook for you and you were sure it wouldn’t be the last. Usually, his efforts ended with you taking over, your boyfriend sitting at the table to watch you in defeat.

“Move aside, Chef Choi,” you pretended to stretch like you were about to run a race and cracked your knuckles for emphasis. “I’ve got it from here.”

Vernon groaned dramatically. “But I’m supposed to be cooking for you.”

“That’s okay. I’m sure you’ll get it next time.”

You didn’t mind that you usually had to finish the meals he started. In truth, you genuinely enjoyed cooking. It helped, of course, that Vernon always theatrically moaned when he took the first bite like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

Your boyfriend leaned against the counter while you scraped the remainder of his breakfast attempt into the trash. It pained you to waste food, but it was truly unsalvageable—biting into one of those pancakes would surely ruin your appetite forever.

Not that you were going to tell him that.

You spooned globs of batter onto the pan and retrieved a skillet for the bacon, aware that Vernon was watching you all the while.

“You’re not putting peanuts in those, right?” He asked nervously.

You shot an incredulous glance over your shoulder. “Who puts peanuts in pancakes?” Vernon shrugged and you teasingly rolled your eyes. “No, Vernon, I’m very aware of your peanut allergy.”

“You can’t blame me for asking. You did try to kill me that one time.”

You scoffed. No way would you even bother responding to that one. Leave it to Vernon to bring up the one time you’d accidentally given him a granola bar with peanuts and you’d had to whip out the EpiPen in the middle of a grocery store.

Obviously, he was fine now.

It wasn’t until you flipped the pancakes onto their other sides, each one a perfect golden-brown circle, that Vernon decided he’d had enough.

“How did you—I don’t under—ugh.”

You smiled at his incoherent complaints. His arms wrapped around you from behind and you giggled when he attempted to tickle your ribs.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You laughed and pushed his hand away. It immediately returned to your side, this time sliding beneath your shirt so his fingers drifted over bare skin. You shivered at the temperature of his hand but continued to flip the pancakes in front of you.

Vernon’s mouth drifted over your ear and he exhaled, his warm breath sending chills skittering across your skin.

“Seriously, hot shot, what are you doing?” You asked again, your stomach tightening when the tips of his fingers slid beneath the waistband of your pants.

“Distracting you.”

No shit. You were more focused now on the growing ache between your legs than the task at hand.

You swallowed and asked breathlessly, “And why are you distracting me?”

“Because I’m tired of you being good at everything.” Vernon pressed a soft kiss to your jaw as his hand drifted lower. You unconsciously pressed back into him and his arm wrapped around your middle. “I’m trying to even the playing field.”

You moved the finished pancakes from the stove to a plate and replaced them with new batter, your brow furrowed with concentration. If Vernon wanted to play dirty, fine, but you were not going to let him win.

You gasped softly when Vernon’s fingers at last entered your panties. He teased your entrance with his middle finger, his thumb dragging gentle circles over your clit.

“You’re so wet, baby.” He whispered against the shell of your ear, his voice rough. “Cooking turns you on?”

“You’re the worst,” you half-moaned. Vernon laughed as his thumb exerted more pressure. Your knees began to shake, and you couldn’t be bothered to care that your boyfriend was now supporting most of your weight as you leaned against him.

At last, a pancake slid off the spatula before you could set it safely on the plate. It landed with a dissatisfying thwack on the counter. You groaned, half in frustration and half in pleasure, as Vernon chuckled victoriously.

“Gotcha.” He bit down softly on your earlobe and moaned when two of his fingers slid easily into your slick entrance. You didn’t bother trying to be subtle anymore as you rocked your hips on his hand, silently urging him to pick up the pace.

Vernon completely ignored your wishes as his fingers continued to thrust languidly into you. You climbed higher with painful slowness, your walls fluttering around him while you whimpered.

He wouldn’t be able to keep this up much longer. His hard length was pressed snugly against your backside, fully at attention and practically begging you to help. He softly ground his hips against your ass, seeking some degree of friction.

“Your pancakes are burning." He unhelpfully pointed out.

You truly couldn’t have cared less. You braced your hands on the corners of the stove for some level of support, your orgasm urgently looming.

When your high at last swept through you, you saw it coming from a mile away. Pleasure crested over you in a wave, warm as your boyfriend’s chest pressed against your back. You released a shuddering moan of relief as you clenched hard around Vernon’s fingers.

He was the only person in the world who could make you cum like that. You turned boneless halfway through your orgasm, leaning fully against him as you dove head-first into the pleasure his hand gave.

He exhaled heavily in your ear, seemingly as satisfied as you were, and kissed the side of your throat.

“See? Me distracting you isn’t so bad, huh?”

You turned in the circle of Vernon’s arms so you could glare up at him. He gazed down at you with a smug expression, though his eyes were heavy-lidded with lust and his erection still pressed insistently into you.

Without warning, you grasped his clothed length in your hand. Vernon jumped, his eyes wide with alarm, as he released a startled, choked moan.

“That wasn’t nice.” You chided softly. He groaned again when you gently squeezed him through his pants.

You reached behind you without looking and turned off the burner with a sharp snap. The long-burnt pancakes on the stove sizzled dejectedly, but you paid them no mind.

You pressed a gentle kiss to Vernon’s lips, which he eagerly attempted to deepen. Smiling, you pulled away.

“You think you won?” You asked quietly.

“Well you came, so respectfully I know I—”

Vernon’s words cut off in a sharp inhale when you squeezed his dick again. He swallowed thickly at the promise in your eyes.

“Oh yeah? Two can play at that game, baby, and it’s my turn.”

thanks for reading, party people! please give it a like/reblog if you enjoyed it! - j

masterlist here :)

It was a general rule among people in your line of work that you didn’t send gifts unless you had an ulterior motive. A bribe, a threat, or an encoded message—sometimes a mix of the three. Those were the categories your late father had forced you to memorize in your youth.

The painting propped in front of you was no different.

It had been delivered three hours ago in an unmarked package. Now, it was in the center of your grand foyer, propped against a sculpture on the center table.

“What does it mean?” Jihyo asked from your left.

You examined the painted bouquet with a forced neutral expression, your head lightly inclined towards one shoulder, and you crossed your arms over your chest.

“The flower on the bottom left is my birth flower. Next to it, a red poppy for blood spilled in war.” You swallowed thickly and continued to the one on its other side, “That one is a daffodil, it’s… his birth flower. And the one on the right is a red dahlia for betrayal.”

Jihyo shuddered, obviously unnerved by the painting. “What’s the big one in the middle?”

You inhaled deeply, staring at the one you hadn’t explained. It was bigger than the previous four, positioned above the others in the center of the bouquet.

“I have no clue. Looks like jasmine, but I don’t know what it means. Maybe he ran out of ideas.” You rolled your shoulders as you spoke, attempting to dissolve some of the tension there. Jihyo glanced at you with a strange expression on her face, but mercifully said nothing. That was partly why she was still employed for you after all these years—she knew when to stop asking questions.

You changed the subject, attempting to force your voice into its usual cool command. “Is my dress ready?”

Jihyo nodded. “It’s upstairs. The gown is beautiful, you’ll look stunning.”

You hoped so. You needed every weapon in your arsenal at its best tonight, and your beauty was one of them.

Unfortunately, insufferable old men were more willing to empty their pockets if your tits looked great.

Jihyo’s phone rang. She offered you a quick, apologetic smile and strode further into the house, her heels clicking on the marble tile. Aside from being your friend, you were grateful for her as an employee. She handled much of the business since you’d assumed control of the Family, allowing you to focus on the part you liked. The dirtier bits.

You gazed at the jasmine painted above the four smaller flowers. It had been crafted with far more care than the others, more detail. You could almost picture Hyunjin in your mind’s eye, painting this for you in the late hours of the night.

You had lied to Jihyo. You knew exactly what the jasmine symbolized, but to voice it aloud would have been an unnecessary risk.

Passion. Sex. Desire.

Leave it to Hyunjin to spill the beans about your… altercation two weeks ago while simultaneously declaring war.

You supposed it was understandable. After all, you had stolen one hundred million dollars’ worth of forged documents from his bedroom after fucking him senseless.

You hadn’t seen him since. Hadn’t even heard anything about him until this painting was delivered. Though it was unsigned and delivered without the official seal of his Family, it wasn’t hard to deduce the artwork’s origin.

Unable to stomach looking at the thing anymore, you placed it face-down on the table and stepped away. There were more important things to worry about tonight than Hwang Hyunjin’s hurt feelings.

The gift certainly sent the message he’d intended it to. To normal people, it would probably just look like a tasteful rendition of a bouquet; to those in this business, it was an obvious threat from one rival to another. But to you, one of the few people in this world who knew Hyunjin behind the mask, it was more.

You and Hyunjin had always preferred the language of flowers. And after two weeks of silence, the flowers were speaking.

See you soon.

“If you vomit, I’m going to push you overboard.”

You shot a dubious glare in Jihyo’s direction, your forearms braced on the metal railing. It was a mistake—the second you looked away from the small green light you’d been using as a stationary object across the bay, a wave of nausea rose in your stomach.

“You do that—” you cut yourself off, momentarily closing your eyes while you mastered your need to hurl. After a moment, you began again, “If you do that, I’m seriously gonna—” Your sentence was interrupted by a hiccup.

Okay, maybe talking wasn’t your best option right now.

Jihyo giggled. “Now would you let me put a seasickness patch on you? I said you would need one before we even got on this yacht, but nooo—”

“What’s that boat?” You abruptly asked. Jihyo followed your line of sight to the small yacht that was pulling up alongside the one you stood on. It was probably a quarter of the size, meant for speed rather than luxury entertainment.

“I heard someone talking about selling their share of the papers after they bought them from us.” Jihyo peered at the smaller boat as it drifted closer to the boarding deck. “Probably the buyer.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Figure out who it is. I don’t want to be surprised.”

Jihyo nodded wordlessly and gestured for one of your guards to do as you’d asked. They stepped away, phone pressed to their ear.

When another hiccup nearly brought your outrageously expensive dinner with it, you hastily beckoned for Jihyo to put the damn seasickness patch on you. Thankfully, she did so without commentary.

You touched the small patch behind your ear, more than a little skeptical. You had no idea how this thing was supposed to work, but you didn’t feel like biting the hand that fed you. Anything that would help you get through the next twelve hours on this godforsaken boat was good enough for you.

“Do you think it’s late enough for me to hide in my suite without raising suspicions?” You asked, not bothering to hide the edge of desperation in your voice.

Jihyo offered a pitying smile. No, then.

“Ugh, why?” You let your forehead fall against the metal railing, appreciating its cool temperature. “We already sold the papers, we’re a hundred million dollars richer—what more do they want from me?”

You were already upset enough that you had to spend the night on this yacht. The buyers you’d found for the tax documents were a reclusive CEO of some tech company and his board of trustees, whose one condition for setting up the deal had been that it be on their turf. In your impatience to sell, you’d hastily agreed.

Now you were seasick on a boat at one in the morning while the exclusive party went on inside.

“I think Mr. Chae wants to sleep with you. He was looking for you after dinner.”

You laughed humorlessly. “That’s great. How disappointingly stereotypical of him.”

Jihyo knew without you explicitly saying. You would not have sex with the man in his fifties tonight. Not only was the age difference not your thing, but he wasn’t—

Nope.

You halted your thoughts with an iron grip. You would not go down that road tonight.

You straightened, smoothing your silk gown onto your sides. Your friend had been right—it looked beautiful. The smooth fabric was a shimmering gold, excess silk pooling at your breasts but skintight around your waist and hips. The skirt swished around your legs as you stepped back from the railing and sighed.

“I won’t entertain these bastards. We got what we came for.” Jihyo nodded tightly as you spoke. You were certain that the energy indoors was as uncomfortable for her as it was for you. “We’ll make small talk as we walk, but I intend to be in bed in the next ten minutes.”

You strode to the glass doors with your chin held high, piecing back together your aura of casual dominance. It helped that the five trained bodyguards you’d brought with you tonight immediately fanned into a diamond formation around you as you walked.

People in various levels of finery milled around inside, chatting amongst themselves. You offered fake gentle smiles to anyone who dared make eye-contact with you. That was your favorite game to play—let them guess why the young, pretty girl was called the Viper Queen.

“There you are!”

You stopped in your tracks and mentally groaned at the booming voice that spoke from behind you. You took a moment to stitch a friendly smile onto your face before you turned.

“Mr. Chae, how are you?” You greeted pleasantly.

The man approached with the grace of an elephant, very obviously drunk. A sheen of sweat sparkled on his forehead, the gray in his hair yellowed by the artificial light. Your guards looked at you when the man shoved between them and you made a hand signal against your hip. Allow it but be ready.

“I was wondering where you went, little bird.” His eyes shone with intent and you fought the urge to vomit again, though not from seasickness. “You had me thinking you just came here for my money.”

“Perhaps I did.”

Though you meant what you said, Mr. Chae laughed. If you wouldn’t have been immediately shot for it, you would have kicked him in the shin.

“Are you enjoying my boat?”

A wave rocked the floor beneath you and your stomach twisted. “It’s lovely. How’s your wife?”

His expression sobered a bit at your pointed mention of the wife he’d conveniently forgotten about. He spoke, but his response was lost on you when Jihyo suddenly gripped your elbow.

You glanced at her, then did a double-take at the alarm on her face.

“What is it?” You whispered.

“I found out who was on the other boat, it’s—”

Your eyes lifted over her shoulder and the entire world fell from beneath your feet.

Shit.

Hyunjin’s hair was slicked back, the blond wonderfully offsetting his black ensemble as he stepped into the main room. He was so tall that he had to stoop to get through the doorframe, and under different circumstances you might have laughed at the tell-tale annoyance that bracketed his mouth. The blood drained from your face at the seven other bodies that followed his. He’d brought his entire Family.

Hyunjin’s dark eyes immediately found yours.

He smiled.

You couldn’t convince your feet to move as Hyunjin crossed the room with predatory grace, the throng of people parting to let him pass. The others followed close on his heels and you fought the desire to look at your old friends’ faces.

Your guards immediately lined up shoulder to shoulder, a human shield between where you stood and Hyunjin made to approach further.

His smirk made your heart clench as he looked down at you between your guards’ heads.

“Hello, thief.”

“Hi, bastard.”

Your attention was drawn away from Hyunjin’s savage smile by Mr. Chae’s voice, buzzing in your ear like an annoying fly.

“Mr. Hwang, what an unexpected pleasure. Come to join the festivities?”

Hyunjin didn’t look away from you as he responded, “Unfortunately not. I’ve come to collect something which belongs to me.”

“Oh?”

Jihyo’s hand clasped your elbow again, subtly urging you to run. You were inclined to listen. Hyunjin was about to reveal your deceit, you could tell by the glimmer in his eyes and the slight quirk to his full lips.

Whatever response you might have expected, the one-word answer he gave was the furthest thing from it.

“Her.”

All the oxygen left the room as you sucked in a shallow gasp. Mr. Chae barked an incredulous laugh.

“Her?” His beady eyes darted from Hyunjin to you, then back again. “She is a guest on my boat tonight, we just closed a deal not two hours ago—”

“A deal that was only possible because of me.” Hyunjin interrupted, his eyes at last shifting to the older man looming behind your shoulder. He looked down at him, his eyes narrowed with distaste, like he could see exactly why Mr. Chae wanted to keep you from leaving so soon.

You waited for Hyunjin to continue with bated breath. The moment he revealed that the tax documents had been stolen, it was anyone’s game. An exchange of money didn’t matter where guns were involved—whoever was left standing at the end would walk away with everything.

And Hyunjin’s Family always won.

To your surprise, he didn’t elaborate on his so-called involvement in the deal. “She and I have business to attend to. I trust you understand my urgency.”

Mr. Chae blubbered for a moment, unable to find a good enough reason to keep you by his side. You almost wished he would. The second Hyunjin got you alone, he was going to kill you for stealing from him.

At last, you mastered yourself enough to speak. “Mr. Chae, I believe it’s time for me to take my leave.” You ignored Hyunjin completely as you looked at the older man, frustrated color rising in his cheeks. “Thank you for your hospitality, it’s been a pleasure. My men and I can find my suite on our own.”

Hopefully your addition of my men would keep him from following you to your room.

Mr. Chae seemed to deflate, obviously disappointed. “Sleep comfortably, little bird.”

Nausea rose within you again at his ridiculous pet name for you. Hyunjin visibly tensed in your periphery.

You nodded, hoping your intentions didn’t show on your face. You certainly would not sleep comfortably tonight. The second you got to your room, you intended to climb out the window and flee before Hyunjin could find you.

Mercifully, he didn’t move to stop you as you walked around him. A wave of his cologne passed over you, so familiar that it made your knees weak.

You tried and failed not to look at Hyunjin’s friends. Some wouldn’t look at you, but Changbin was grinning like he had half a mind to bash you over the head again. In your effort to look away, you accidentally made eye-contact with Felix.

He’d been your best friend, once upon a time—now he was looking at you with poorly concealed sadness and hurt in his eyes. Like he truly missed you.

You forced yourself to keep walking, Jihyo pressed close to your side.

“Where the hell is the fastest exit in this place?” You hissed the moment you were out of sight. Your men fanned out to secure a perimeter, attempting to keep others away while you made your escape.

“I don’t know. I already sent an SOS to our guys on land, they’re coming as fast as they can.” Jihyo was breathless, whether from fear or walking so fast, you didn’t know. “I think we’ll have to stay in your suite until they get here, but it could be a while.”

“Why?”

“We don’t own a speedboat.”

You wanted to kick the wall. How was it possible that you didn’t own a speedboat?

You shoved your panic down. “Fine, but you can’t stay in my room with me. If he gets in, he’ll kill anyone in the way.”

“I can’t just leave you—”

“You can.” You tugged Jihyo to a stop for a moment, glancing around. By some stroke of luck, the hallway was empty except for the two of you.

You hastily pulled a stack of checks out of your gown. Each was attached to a different bank—separate accounts which had simultaneously paid you ten million dollars each.

You pressed the checks into Jihyo’s hand. “Take these, find my guards and stay out of sight. If I’m not with you when the boat gets here, get on it and leave, do you understand me?”

There were tears in Jihyo’s eyes, but thankfully she nodded her understanding.

“Is he going to kill you?”

In truth, you didn’t know. You weren’t inclined to find out.

You gave her a smile that felt more confident than you actually were.

“He can try.”

When you opened the door to your suite, Hyunjin was laying on your bed.

You stared at each other for a moment without speaking.

“I should have known you’d be in here.” You said at last. You stepped into the room and closed the door softly behind you. “Where are your friends?”

“Socializing.”

Chills ran up your spine at the low sound of his voice. He was angry, that much was obvious, but you couldn’t figure out why he was just lying there. His gun should have gone off already.

“How did you find me?”

“Felix has a lot of friends.” Hyunjin interlaced his fingers over his stomach and sighed. “Did you really think I wouldn’t come for you?”

You scoffed under your breath. “You already came for me, Jin.”

Hyunjin’s face hardened. He stood slowly and you lifted your chin, making no move to run as he approached. If he was going to kill you, you would die with your dignity intact.

He stopped when there was less than a breath between you.

“You stole from me.”

“And?”

Goosebumps followed his hand as his fingers trailed up your arm, his touch so light you could barely feel it.

“Were you going to let him fuck you?” He breathed.

Shock broke through your indifferent expression. “Who?”

“Mr. Chae.”

Ah, that’s what this is about. Hwang Hyunjin, leader of one of the most feared organizations in the world and a harbinger of death, was jealous.

You couldn’t stop the small smile that spread across your face as Hyunjin leaned in until his face was inches from your throat. Your heartbeat picked up when his warm breath fanned across your neck.

“So what if I was?” You said quietly.

Hyunjin tensed and his hand stopped its slow exploration of your arm at your shoulder. He leaned away to look at you, his eyes glittering.

“Were you?”

You tilted your head back. Your lips were close enough that if you moved at all, they would brush.

“I think you know me better than that.” You allowed your hands to rest softly on his waist, bunching his coat in your fists as he exhaled shakily. “Jealousy is below you.”

His fingers ghosted over your jaw. “I don’t respond well to others taking the things I want.”

“And if I did want to fuck the old man?” Your hand drifted across the front of Hyunjin’s dress pants. Vicious delight drew your lips into a small smile when you discovered he was already half-hard.

You were playing with fire. No, not playing—you were dancing in the middle of a blaze, daring the flames to burn you.

A shallow gasp passed Hyunjin’s lips when you ran a fingernail over the clothed length of him.

“I would get violent.”

“Prove it.”

Your dare hadn’t even finished sounding when his mouth crushed against yours. He kissed you feverishly, like he meant to consume you alive, and you met him stroke for stroke. Hyunjin’s tongue entered your parted lips immediately, exploring and marking like he wanted the taste of him in your mouth forever.

Your fingernails raked across his back, through his hair, drawing short groans from his throat. You savored them all—the sounds Hyunjin made were among your favorite in the world.

Hyunjin grasped your bare leg through the slit in your dress and you gasped at the cold temperature of his hand. His fingers dug into your thigh as he yanked your leg up around his waist, forcing your hips to press flush against his.

You ground against his length immediately. You were already soaking, your lace panties sticking to your core. You had been since you’d seen him in your bed, if you were being honest.

Hyunjin shuddered as you rocked your hips against him again.

“You always run from me,” he said into your mouth. He effortlessly picked you up off the ground and you froze, but he immediately turned and dropped you onto the bed. “Why do you always run? Is it for this?”

Hyunjin removed your heels from each of your feet and kissed your left ankle, trailing his lips up your calf to your knee. He bit down softly on your thigh and you moaned breathily.

You might have burst into flames at the dark lust in his eyes as he murmured against your hip, “Is it because you want to be punished?”

You squirmed while he kissed one of your hipbones, then the other. Hyunjin hooked his long fingers into your panties and dragged them down your legs.

“I kept these last time, you know.” He placed your panties on the foot of the bed and dragged his lips up your leg again, his fingernails scraping lightly behind his mouth. “I thought about sending them with the painting.”

“The painting was lovely.” You gasped out. You were so desperate for him to touch you that you wanted to scream.

“Was it?” At last, Hyunjin pressed two of his fingers to your soaking entrance. “I wanted to kill you while I did it.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to be upset by his words when his fingers roughly pushed into you. You exhaled a shaky groan and Hyunjin pressed an open-mouthed kiss to your stomach, gently sucking your skin where your dress had hitched up.

You could feel his eyes on you, watching your every reaction while you writhed beneath his touch. You massaged your breasts through your gown and half-wished he would just rip the damn thing off you.

Your only warning before Hyunjin’s mouth closed around your clit was the feeling of his warm breath on you. You arched your back involuntarily at the dual sensations of his fingers and lips, the former now curling inside you to brush your g-spot on every thrust.

Hyunjin groaned and murmured something into you about your taste. He splayed the fingers on his free hand across your stomach, holding your hips against the mattress. The vibrations of his voice drew another moan from your chest and you reached down blindly to grasp whatever part of him you could reach.

Your hand found his. Hyunjin stilled momentarily when your fingers hastily threaded through his, but he quickly mastered his surprise and gripped yours with equal strength.

You couldn’t dwell on the intimacy of that action. Your rapidly approaching orgasm clouded your mind—if you didn’t cum soon you would go insane.

“God, Hyunjin—ah—pleasepleaseplease—”

You babbled nonsensically, arching your back as his fingers continued mercilessly pumping inside you. Your walls spasmed around him and he moaned again at his realization that you were already close.

The wave inside of you was just beginning to break when Hyunjin withdrew his fingers from you completely.

Your eyes snapped open. Your vision was a little blurry, your head clouded with the orgasm that had just been ripped out from under you.

“What—why, no—”

“You don’t get to cum, baby. Not yet.”

Your fury was short-lived. Hyunjin’s fingertips dug into your thighs as he jerked them onto each of his shoulders, his hands cupping your ass while he dove in again.

You released a vulgar moan when his tongue replaced his fingers. The tensed muscle thrusted into your entrance, eagerly consuming your arousal as you climbed higher again.

You were so sensitive. You straddled the line between pleasure and pain, your legs violently shaking around Hyunjin’s head while his tongue moved to circle your clit.

That sinful mouth closed around you and sucked hard, yanking you to the edge of your orgasm so fast you saw stars.

You threaded your fingers into Hyunjin’s hair, tugging at the soft strands with newfound urgency. Your hips rolled against his mouth while you chased your high, close, so close—

Hyunjin removed his lips from you again with a lewd pop.

You couldn’t even raise your head to look at him this time. Your chest rose and fell in heavy breaths, and you fought the urge to scream a frustrated cry.

“Color?” Hyunjin’s voice rang with smug command.

“Green, you asshole.”

He climbed up your body slowly, stopping briefly to kiss your hip, your ribcage, each of your breasts, before his face hovered above yours.

Hyunjin softly kissed your neck while you dragged your fingernails along his shoulder blades, aiming more to tell him to hurry up than hurt him. He froze when his lips touched below your ear.

“Is this a seasickness patch?” He whispered incredulously, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

You smacked him gently, your cheeks flushing with unwelcome embarrassment.

“Shut up, Jin. I can still hurt you in this position.”

He chuckled again and moved down so he could suck a hickey onto the column of your throat. You moaned softly, instantly reminded of the incessant ache for him between your legs.

“How do you feel?” He whispered against your mouth. You caught his lips in a fervent kiss, painfully turned on by the taste of yourself lingering on him while you tugged on his bottom lip with your teeth.

“Like I’m dying,” you breathed.

Hyunjin’s arm slid beneath you and flipped you onto your front. You arched your back, pressing your ass into his hips while his long fingers deftly pulled down the zipper of your gown. It fell down your shoulders and you adjusted to help him slide it out from beneath you.

He planted rough kisses along your spine, working his way up until his lips closed around the rapid pulse in your neck.

“That’s how I feel every time I look at you.” Hyunjin’s words were accompanied by the sounds of his clothes falling to the floor. You squirmed in anticipation, more than ready to be full. There was nothing like being filled by Hyunjin—no matter what feelings there were outside of this, it was like his body had been perfectly crafted for yours.

He bent over you, his bare chest warm as it pressed against your back. His breath fanned across your ear while he dragged the head of his cock between your folds, coating it with your slick.

“Every time I see you, it breaks my heart.” Your heartbeat pounded between your legs while Hyunjin spoke, impossibly hot and aching. “And for some reason, I keep coming back.”

At last, he pushed in. And in, and in. You both released simultaneous sighs of relief and your head fell against your forearm braced below you.

“I can’t stay away from you.”

He worked his way in slowly until his hips were pressed flush against your ass. You felt him so deep, the feeling was intoxicating. He thrusted, just barely, and your walls clenched around him at the stimulation to your g-spot.

Without warning, Hyunjin pulled out to the tip and slammed back in. You cried out when he did it again, the pleasure so overwhelming that you felt it in your toes.

He set a brutal pace, his forehead falling between your shoulders while his hands braced your ribcage. Your fists twisted the sheets on either side of you so hard your knuckles paled under the strain.

“Whose pussy is this?” He demanded, breathless.

Your brain could barely function long enough to respond. “Yours.”

His hips snapped against yours, the loud sounds of your bodies joining creating a symphony with your panting breaths. One of Hyunjin’s hands found yours, his fingers threading between your own in a desperate attempt to ground himself.

“Who’s the only one who can make you feel this good?”

“You—ah, god—You, Hyunjin.”

You were rising and rising without an end in sight. Your walls were clenching furiously around his cock—if you continued like this, neither of you would last a minute.

Hyunjin pulled out and turned you onto your back again, his cock buried inside you before you had the chance to mourn its absence. He placed your ankles on either side of his head and braced his hands on the backs of your thighs.

“Oh god, oh god—Hyunjin, I’m—ah—”

“Yes, yes—come for me.” He panted, sweat beading on his forehead as he pounded into you. He looked beautiful. Maybe it was the pleasure talking, but surely there was no boy more beautiful in the world than this one. “Come on, baby, I need to see it. Want to see how you’re a slut for me. Need to feel you—”

Hyunjin’s fingers found your clit, rubbing expert figure-eights onto it while he watched you beneath pinched brows.

You fell off the edge. Plummeted off of it.

Perhaps it was because it had been denied so many times, but your orgasm felt like fireworks in your veins. You scrunched your eyes closed, unable to make a sound as a wave of euphoria crashed into you.

Your body locked. The only muscles able to move were those inside you, clamping down so hard around Hyunjin’s cock that he released a guttural moan.

“That’s it, that’s it—just like that…” Hyunjin coaxed you through it, gasping between words. Your legs shook on his shoulders, twitching in tandem with the pulses of your orgasm.

Hyunjin released a shuddering breath as he came inside you, pushed to his own release by the never-ending tightening of your walls around him. Your bodies responded to every twitch and throb, drawing out each of your orgasms so long that you began to shake with overstimulation.

After what felt like an eternity, Hyunjin gingerly removed your legs from his shoulders and settled down at your side, his softening cock still nestled inside you. His long arms wound around your waist, tugging you against him firmly enough that you knew he had no intention of releasing you.

You were too fucked out to care, really. Cuddling after sex like that was probably a terrible idea, but this was… Hyunjin.

Tears pricked behind your eyes at the thought.

It was Hyunjin buried inside you. Every time you saw him, you either wanted to kill someone or fuck him within an inch of his life. Sometimes both.

You had wanted to spend the rest of your life with him, once. Before each of your fathers had died, before you started blaming one another for things that were completely out of your control—you had loved him.

Maybe you still did.

“That’s twice now you’ve fucked instead of killed me.” You didn’t mind that your voice was shaky. Hyunjin had seen you in far worse states than this. Perhaps he’d think it was because of how mind-blowing the sex had been.

He leaned back and you winced at the overstimulation when his cock moved inside you. Hyunjin gazed down at your face, the look in his eyes far different than before, and his head slanted towards his shoulder.

“I didn’t come here to kill you.”

Your brows furrowed, confused. “Then why?”

Hyunjin didn’t answer right away, and you started to hope he wouldn’t. There was a very fragile bubble of peace surrounding you at the moment, ready to pop at the first sign of danger.

He considered his words carefully, his eyes drifting over each part of your face like he was searching for an answer there.

“I came to ask you to marry me.”

Pop.

“You… what?” Your lips parted, the shock so powerful that your brain short-circuited. “But you hate me. I’m supposed to hate you. I stole a hundred million dollars from you.”

You surprise intensified when Hyunjin’s smile grew. He pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead that you didn’t process in time to deflect.

“Ah, there are the key words. Supposed to. You don’t hate me at all, do you?”

You were too dumbfounded to respond. At last, you disentangled yourself from him, momentarily mourning the sensation of being full when his cock slid out of you.

“Hyunjin, what you’re saying is impossible.”

“We’re two of the most powerful people in the world. Anything is possible.”

Your throat worked as you thought of what to say. Less than an hour ago you’d been convinced Hyunjin would murder you for your theft.

“But I stole from you.”

“Did you?” Hyunjin raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

“Did you steal from me, or did I let you take the papers?”

You scoffed. No way. He had to be bluffing.

“Why would you let me take a hundred million dollars out from under you?”

Hyunjin sat up, his toned body near-glowing in the moonlight filtering in through the window.

“I knew the moment I saw you again that my feelings hadn’t changed,” he began. “Even when I still thought you murdered my dad, I knew I wanted to marry you. And I hated you for that—I hated myself even more. I thought you killed my father as revenge, but somehow you still made me love you.”

You listened in silence, hardly daring to breathe as he continued, “When I found you in my club, when you leaned into the barrel of my gun like a maniac, when we… you know, afterwards.” Hyunjin cleared his throat, color dusting his cheeks. “It was the only thing on my mind. I would find a way to convince you to marry me without the world imploding.”

You sat, thunderstruck, for several breaths, hardly able to believe the words you were hearing. Marry him? Once, you would have leapt at the chance, but now… things were complicated. The world you lived in was stacked against you.

“You don’t have to answer right now.” Hyunjin said, no doubt because of the expression on your face. “Take time to think on it, if you need. But aside from the fact that I’m hopelessly in love with you, consider how much we stand to gain by uniting our empires. We’d be far more powerful together than apart. That is why I was so willing to let you take the documents. Let’s call it an investment.”

The part about merging your Families… was true, you supposed. At the moment, at least, you couldn’t find a good enough rebuttal.

Your phone buzzed inside your gown, rumpled on the floor by the bed. Some of the tension was broken by the sound and you reached for it, finally managing to locate it inside one of the hidden pockets.

It was a text from Jihyo:

Boat is here. We’re not leaving without you.

A second later, another text came through:

Please don't be dead.

You sighed and stood, slowly shimmying back into your gown. Hyunjin helped you zip up the back, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder before releasing you.

You watched while he tugged on his pants, feeling a little lost as to what you were supposed to do now. What were you going to tell Jihyo? If you decided to turn down the proposal, were you expected to go back to your normal life and pretend he never happened?

You weren’t sure you could do that.

Apparently attuned to your spiral of thoughts, Hyunjin bent slightly at the waist to look you in the eye. “Think on it.”

It was all you could do to nod.

When you opened the door, Changbin stood on its other side. He grinned at whatever Felix had said a moment ago, and he only had time to glance down at you for a moment before you advanced.

Your fist collided against his cheek with a resounding thwack. Silence fell, broken only when Hyunjin released a startled laugh in the doorway behind you.

“That’s for two weeks ago, you prick.”

You strode away without waiting for his response, your chin held high as you shook the pain out of your hand.

Changbin’s laugh followed you down the hall and he called after you, “Good to have you back, Viper Queen.”

You didn’t miss the sarcastic tone that accompanied your so-called “title”, but it didn’t sound like he was trying to hurt your feelings. It was… the way a friend would tease another friend. It felt like old times.

God, you really should have just gone to Fiji.

would you like a side with your simp sandwich? I know I need one lol. would a part three be okay? anywayyyy, I hope this lives up to your expectations for part two! thank you so much for reading!! please like/reblog if you enjoyed it, bye loves! - j

masterlist here :)

You weren’t quite sure how you’d managed to get yourself in this situation.

It was safe to say, the barrel of a gun inches from your temple was not how you intended to spend your Saturday night.

“I knew you were a stupid bitch, but this is a new low for you.”

You rolled your eyes at the voice speaking lowly in your ear. Despite yourself, chills erupted over your skin. Apparently some habits couldn’t be easily broken.

You slowly turned your head so you could look at the owner of that delicious voice, completely ignoring the gun still leveled at your head.

And there he was. Still blond, even after all these months, his hair gently curling around his face. His expression was cold, but there was a fire in his eyes that was all too familiar to you.

Hwang Hyunjin.

The leader of the biggest gang in your city, its power and legacy equal only to your own.

You remembered idly what it had once been like to love that face. Star-crossed lovers, the crown prince and princess of rival gangs intent on destroying one another.

But that was before.

Now you were king and queen of rival empires, your quest for violence stained by a need for revenge.

You took pleasure in the irritation that overtook his face the longer you ignored his insult. He could call you a stupid bitch all he wanted—you both knew it was a lie and a cheap shot.

“Why are you in my club?” Hyunjin said through clenched teeth.

You smiled sweetly. “Didn’t know it was yours. Just came to get my rocks off.”

He finally pressed the gun against your temple. You leaned into it, invigorated by the cold metal on your too-warm skin. Hyunjin barked a laugh.

“Bullshit. Last time you were here—” he cut himself off and you smiled viciously.

“Last time I was here… what? You mean the night your father put a bullet in mine?”

Hyunjin winced. The night was a sore topic for more than just you, apparently.

It was the night everything changed. When your father’s life left this world, so did any fantasy of running away with the man now holding a gun to your head. Hyunjin had tried to resist when you broke things off, but then his own father had died and he’d been forced to rise to the occasion.

You knew he blamed you for his father’s death. He assumed you’d put a hit on the elder Hwang as revenge. In your anger, you never saw the need to correct his assumption. It was easier to let him hate you.

“I don’t have to stand here and entertain this.” Hyunjin’s long index finger flexed on the trigger. “Why are you really here?”

“Came to say hi.”

You’d talk him in circles all night if you had to. This mission was too important to compromise.

You weren’t sure you’d be able to stomach coming back to this club, but the forged tax documents laying in the next room took priority over your trauma. Those alone would pay off all the debt your father had accumulated over his reign and then some. You could pay for your sibling’s college tuition; pay off your own medical bills from when you’d been shot last year; certainly a month-long vacation to Fiji with whatever was left over.

If you wanted to get technical about it, the documents were worth over a hundred million dollars.

A bead of sweat trickled along your hairline, Hyunjin’s eyes tracking it as it slid down your face. He swallowed.

You were affecting him, then. Good. You looked incredible tonight, so it was nice to see the black dress you’d squeezed yourself into was paying off.

Hyunjin smiled humorlessly, the expression doing more to bare his teeth at you than anything else. Alarm bells went off in your head.

“Go ahead, Changbin.”

You tried to turn and run at hearing the name of Hyunjin’s ruthless bodyguard, but you made it all of two steps before something hard hit the back of your head and the world went dark.

When you woke, you were curled on your side in what had to be the most comfortable bed in existence.

You shot into a sitting position, your face immediately twisting into a grimace at the sharp pain on the back of your head. God, how hard did Changbin hit you? You made a mental note to return the favor next time you saw him.

Rubbing the back of your skull, you cautiously examined your surroundings.

You were beneath the covers in a large four-poster bed, the black sheets distractingly soft against your skin. The room was dim, lit only by a lamp on the bedside table and soft moonlight filtering through the curtains. It looked like it had been decorated by a vampire—all dark reds and blacks and gothic furniture pieces.

Your evaluation of the room screeched to a halt when you saw a shadowed figure sitting in the armchair across from the bed.

“Where am I?” You were thankful that your voice still sounded strong. Showing weakness here was a death sentence.

“My bedroom.” Hyunjin leaned forward in his chair so he could prop his elbows on his knees. He still looked perfect, much to your annoyance. “That’s right, I forgot. You betrayed me before I moved in.”

That was bitterness in his tone. You rolled your eyes. “And why am I in your bedroom?”

“Because Han and Lee Know wanted to kill you for trespassing and they can’t reach you here.”

Your heart twinged at hearing the names of your old friends. You hadn’t allowed yourself to miss them in a very long time. Hearing that they wanted to kill you hurt your feelings more than you wanted to admit.

“Why didn’t you listen?” You asked roughly.

Hyunjin’s face was unreadable. Perfectly blank, just like the trained killer his father made him to be.

“Because you never told me why you trespassed in the first place.”

Your hands clenched into fists on the lush comforter still over your legs. “I won’t tell you. You might as well just kill me and get it over with.”

Finally, anger passed over his stoic expression. “You’d rather die than tell me why you’re here?”

“Yes.”

“Good to see you’re still recklessly stubborn.”

Your eyes flashed. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know everything about you.” Hyunjin stood, taking the time to stretch his lean muscles before he stalked towards the bed. You shrank back against the pillows, some of your bravado vanishing when he towered over you. “I’ve been keeping track of you, you know. I’d be a fool not to know what my enemy is doing with her time.”

Your chest hurt at his use of the word enemy, but he was right. At this point, you had been enemies for longer than you'd been lovers.

You gazed up at him indignantly, making sure to channel as much hatred into your expression as you could. Hyunjin’s eyes narrowed.

Before you could move away, he grasped your chin roughly in his hand and turned your head from side to side. Searching for injuries, you guessed.

“Still fretting over my health?” You rasped.

Hyunjin released you swiftly. “No. I don’t want you to bleed all over my pillows.”

You didn’t want to think too hard on the fact that you were laying in Hyunjin’s bed. Again. It had been a long time since you’d been in his sheets, but they still smelled exactly as you remembered them. Sweet and fresh and just a little bit floral.

You swung your legs over the side of the bed and stood, trying to quickly edge your way around him. You needed to get out of this room. Every second you spent in here was a year off your life.

Hyunjin caught you around the waist, effortlessly stopping you. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Back to my family. They’ll be wondering where I am by now.”

“You think you can attempt to steal from me and I’ll just let you go?” He chuckled patronizingly.

“So you do know why I was at the club.” You nodded and looked him up and down, satisfied by the way his eyes angrily flashed. “You’re smarter than you look.”

“It doesn’t take a genius. Your plan was idiotic.”

You shoved against his chest, finally able to get a bit of space between your body and his. “Why pretend like you didn’t know, then?”

“I wanted to see how far you were willing to go to protect your mission.”

You subtly attempted to search for the dagger you kept strapped beneath your dress. You’d show him exactly what lengths you were willing to go to, especially if he wouldn’t let you leave this room.

“I took that little letter opener of yours.” He smiled at you again, so condescendingly that your vision turned red. You smacked his chest, your hands shaking with anger.

“Give it back.” You hissed. He caught your fist and held it against him. His heart thundered wildly beneath your hand, giving away the emotion trapped behind his indifferent mask.

“Make me.”

“I will fucking kill you, do you understand me?” You struggled against him, trying to free your hand from his grasp to no avail. “I hate you, you’re so just—ugh!”

“You hate me?” Hyunjin tugged you against his chest, his sudden furious expression a thousand times scarier up close. “You have no right to hate me. Your father’s death was not my fault, okay?”

“Let go—”

“But you.” Hyunjin sneered in your face. “You had my father killed. You knew that I never wanted to lead this ridiculous gang, and you forced me to take the position—”

“I didn’t kill your dad, okay?” Your voice had risen nearly to a shout. You both froze, both your wrists still trapped in Hyunjin’s hands against his chest. The anger on his face transformed into stiff shock.

“What?” He asked, his voice hardly more than a whisper.

You slumped against him, defeated. “I didn’t put the hit on your father. I have no idea who did.” You forced yourself to look up at his face again, annoyed with the frustrated tears you felt pricking behind your eyes. “Why would I ever do that to you, Jin? Our plan was to leave, to escape this life completely—”

Hyunjin cut you off when his mouth crushed against yours.

You froze, every thought rushing out of your brain. His lips moved against your own, his tongue tracing your bottom lip in a silent request to enter.

Hyunjin tasted exactly like you remembered. It hurt your heart beyond belief, and you felt transported back in time, back to when life was easier. Carefree.

You shoved him away with renewed strength, hard enough that he stumbled back. You couldn’t make yourself look at the expression on his face—open and raw, far more emotional than he’d let you see him since his father died.

“You don’t get to do that.” You said, your chest heaving. “You don’t get to kiss me anymore. Not after everything.”

Hyunjin’s face hardened. “Why not?” He made to approach again and you backed away hastily. “Why have we spent so much time hating each other? You didn’t tell me the truth for over a year. Why didn’t you tell me?”

You chuckled humorlessly. “It wouldn’t have mattered.”

“Wouldn’t have mattered?” Hyunjin scoffed. “I thought you killed my dad. I was in love with you before—I wanted to marry you, and you just let me think you betrayed me like that?”

“I was angry! It makes everything so much easier if you hate me.”

“Fine.” Hyunjin’s shoulders were shaking with anger now. “Fine, I’ll hate you. I’ve hated everything about you for a long time, I don’t see why that has to change now.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

You stared at each other, less than an arm’s length between you as you glared. The phrase if looks could kill crossed your mind. If they could, you would certainly both be bodies on the floor.

You weren’t sure when he moved. Or maybe you did. Not that it mattered.

All that mattered was the way the distance between you evaporated into nothing. Hyunjin’s mouth collided with yours, his lips surprisingly soft in contrast with the dominating way he kissed you.

Your mouth parted immediately to welcome his tongue this time. You battled for dominance, your fingers rising to tangle in his hair as his hands gripped the sides of your throat. He squeezed just hard enough for you to feel pressure inside your skull and you moaned into his mouth.

“You’re such a slut, you know that?” He panted against you, his tongue roving across the expanse of your throat as you whimpered. “You claim to hate me but you still want me to make you feel good, hm?”

“Shut up, Jin.” Your voice was barely recognizable to your own ears, heavy with lust. Your fingers in his hair scratched at his scalp, gripping the roots so you could yank his head back to look at you.

You could’ve cum right then and there at the fire burning in his eyes. His hands gripped your ass hard enough to bruise, drawing short, breathy moans from your chest.

You stared at each other for a moment, willing the other to back down first, before Hyunjin walked you backwards until your legs hit the bed.

He roughly undid the buttons of his shirt, his eyes focused only on your thighs spread wide before him. Anticipation fluttered in your veins. If your memory served, Hyunjin loved few things more than burying his face between your legs. You couldn’t imagine what would happen now that there was animosity mixed into it.

Once his shirt was off, exposing the long, cut lines of his torso, he lowered himself to his knees at the edge of the bed. His fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, pulling the lace down and off before tucking them into his pocket.

“You’re going to take what I give you, understand?” He half-growled, his lips mere centimeters from where you wanted him. You nodded frantically, the desperation close to killing you now. “Use your words.”

“I understand.” Your voice was more of a gasp.

He gave you no warning before his tongue dove into your dripping core. You released a breathless moan as he dragged a long lick up your pussy, stopping to draw circles over your clit. His lips closed around the tight bud, mercilessly sucking until your hands yanked against his hair.

Hyunjin groaned against you and the vibrations ricocheted straight to your core.

“You taste even better than I remember.” His voice was muffled and he thrusted his tongue into your entrance. “Still such a good slut for me.”

His fingers slammed into you at an angle without warning. You let out shaky groans when his fingertips effortlessly brushed your swollen g-spot on every thrust.

“Oh my god—” you panted. Hyunjin moaned into you again and jerked your legs over his shoulders, completely unaffected when they closed around his ears.

You were shaking uncontrollably. You rolled your hips in time with the movements of his tongue, chasing your orgasm with reckless abandon. The lewd sounds of his mouth on your pussy were driving you wild.

Hyunjin didn’t slow when you came on his mouth. He moaned as you clenched hard around his fingers, your walls spasming with pleasure. You whined at the overstimulation, clawing at his bare shoulders while he forced you off the edge again.

The waves of pleasure were so powerful that they almost hurt. Your body locked, Hyunjin’s tongue still mercilessly attacking your clit. You couldn’t tell where one orgasm ended and another began.

At last, he removed his lips from you. His mouth and chin shone with you, instantly drying your mouth with anticipation.

“Aw, is my little slut crying? The pleasure is too much for you these days.” Hyunjin’s condescending voice sparked another round of tears, which you hastily wiped away with the backs of your hands before he could see them.

He helped you sit up, his hands surprisingly gentle as he helped you peel off your dress. Completely naked before him, he took his time sucking each of your nipples, his teeth gently closing around the perked bud.

“What’s your color?” He whispered, gazing up at you through his eyelashes.

You couldn’t take the emotion on his face. Not right now. You gripped his shoulders and rolled until you were on top of him, your breasts pressed against his stomach.

You pressed an open-mouthed kiss to his chest. “Green. Definitely green.”

You worked your way down him quickly, hardly stopping to dote on the parts of his body that you would have worshipped in the past.

He lifted his hips so you could drag his pants down his legs, immediately pleased when his hard cock sprang free. It was an angry red, precum wetting the tip in thick beads.

You pumped his base, pleased by the way his hips involuntarily thrusted upwards, and took him into your mouth. He groaned, the sound shooting immediately to your dripping core. You swallowed around him greedily as your hand massaged his balls.

“Shit…” Hyunjin bit the back of his fist to stifle his moans, rolling his hips up into your mouth. “You—ah—still so good at this. Mi-missed this, god…”

You hummed and his cock twitched on your tongue. He whimpered and you clenched around nothing. God, you’d forgotten how you loved to have him completely at your mercy like this. The feeling was only intensified by your knowledge that if anyone ever found out about what you were doing, it would probably start a war.

Hyunjin thrusted into your throat again, tumbling dangerously close to his high. His balls spasmed wildly in your hand, over and over again. His fingers threaded into your hair and he guided you along his length while you fought your gag reflex with a vengeance.

He forced you to look up at him by his hand gripping your hair. He groaned at your expression; tears were beading at the corners of your eyes, your saliva dripping down your chin.

Hyunjin’s brows furrowed, his hair sticking to his temples by the light sheen of sweat covering him.

“Gonna…gonna take my cum?” He panted. You bobbed your head on his cock with renewed vigor, determined to push him off the edge. “Gonna take it like the good slut you are?”

You dragged your teeth lightly along his length and he let out the most vulgar moan you’d ever heard. That was how Hyunjin always liked it: a fine mix of pleasure and pain. Your time apart hadn’t changed that.

His eyes screwed shut and he thrusted up into your mouth again, his balls tightening.

You rose off him with a lewd pop right as his cock released the first thick bursts of cum. Hyunjin’s eyes snapped open, fury twisting his expression, as it hit your chest and dripped down your breasts.

You smiled lazily at him, devilishly delighted by his frustration. In the past you would have sucked him through his orgasm to the point of severe overstimulation—drawn out his high as long as you possibly could. He had a special love reserved for when you swallowed him.

Not anymore.

“Assholes don’t get to cum in my mouth.” You said sweetly, dragging your tongue from his balls to tip for emphasis.

Hyunjin grabbed you before you could react. His fingers dug into your collarbones as he all but tossed you onto the bed.

His long body settled over yours as he kissed and bit your throat, no doubt leaving bruises in his wake. You moaned but it sounded more like a cry.

“You’re evil." His teeth closed over your pulse and he sucked hard. “You know I have to punish you for that, right?”

Excellent.

You grinned at the vaulted ceiling as Hyunjin lined his still impossibly hard cock up with your soaked entrance. Between the remnants of your cum and his still coating both of you, the stretch would be easy. You were thankful for that, at least.

Hyunjin slammed into you without warning.

Your body jerked toward the headboard and you cried out as he gasped in your ear. He wasted no time setting a brutal pace, his hips snapping in and out of you.

You couldn’t be embarrassed at the wet sounds of your bodies meeting. It turned you on too much for that.

Hyunjin’s arm snaked under your back and he effortlessly flipped you beneath him so you were on your front. You moaned and pressed your ass back into him. You could feel him so much deeper in this position—you couldn’t tell where you stopped and he began.

The head of his cock hit your g-spot with merciless efficiency. Your body quickly began to shake uncontrollably beneath his, sweat coating you as he bit down hard on your shoulder.

Hyunjin’s fingers wrapped around your throat again. He squeezed hard and used his grip to tug you upright until you were both on your knees, your back pressed to his front. His hips snapped into yours and you savored every pant and groan he released in your ear.

Your entire body locked as your orgasm barreled into you out of nowhere. Your walls clenched around him so hard that he was forced to stop thrusting.

Hyunjin exhaled shakily in your ear at the pleasure your repeated tightening forced through him. When he came for the second time, he had no time to prepare for it. His hands held your ass firmly against his pelvis as he came inside you, somehow releasing even more cum than before.

Your walls’ convulsing and his cock’s twitching dragged each of you through your orgasms for so long that you saw stars. When you finally came down, you were so thoroughly spent that you collapsed forward onto the pillows. Hyunjin followed, his lean body laying half on top of you and half on the blankets. He was a comfortable weight, one you had forgotten comforted you so much.

Hyunjin gasped above you, attempting to catch his breath.

“It’s good to know we’re still capable of that.” He said breathlessly.

No shit. That was probably the most mind-blowing sex you’d ever had.

Once he had recovered enough to stand, he grabbed his dress shirt off the ground and used it to gently clean you up. That would be fun to explain to the dry-cleaner.

“You’re welcome to use the shower.” You turned your head to look at him as he pointed to a door on the opposite wall. “It’s through there.”

“Thanks.”

You weren’t sure what to say. You’d just attempted to fuck the life out of one another—what were you supposed to do now? Cuddle? That didn’t seem likely.

When you didn’t immediately stand to take him up on his offer, Hyunjin settled down onto the bed next to you. You stiffened, but he just adjusted the pillow beneath his head and sighed deeply as he closed his eyes.

Maybe…

“If you try to kill me in my sleep, I’ll ruin your fucking life.” He intoned without opening his eyes. Your thoughts froze in their tracks.

Okay, maybe not.

An hour later, you hesitated in the window you’d managed to silently pry open.

You glanced back at Hyunjin’s sleeping form, his arm extended to the side of the bed where you were supposed to be laying. The sight hurt your heart, but you shoved it down without dwelling on it.

You had tugged your dress back on after he’d fallen asleep, using the time to search the room for anything useful. Safe to say, you’d found the dagger he’d taken while you were out-cold.

Sitting directly atop the one-hundred-million dollar tax files, tucked in a hidden compartment in his dresser.

Either he’d taken them from the club or they were never there to begin with. You didn’t really care, either way.

Said files were now shoved up your dress, pressed snugly against your stomach.

You felt bad, of course, but business was business. You were sure Hyunjin would do the same if the roles were reversed.

You forced yourself to look at the night-darkened world beyond the window, grateful you were only on the second floor. There was an excellently-placed bush beneath the window that would cushion your fall, then you were home-free.

Without giving yourself time to change your mind, you slung your legs out the window and jumped. Thankfully, your calculations proved true. The trimmed shrubbery caught you with ease and you walked away from the fall with minimal cuts and a slight adrenaline rush.

You glanced back at the second-story window above your head. “Sorry, Jinnie.” You felt the files still tucked beneath your dress and smiled sadly. “Knowing you, we’ll meet again soon.”

Hopefully, it would be in Fiji.

wowie, thanks for reading!! like and/or reblog if you liked it, if you can't tell I'm down bad for venom hyunjin. bye loves! - j

masterlist here :)

“I swear I requested a room with two beds.” Byounggon held up his hands defensively at the accusatory glare you gave him.

“Does this look like two beds to you?” You gestured dramatically at the lush, very solitary queen-sized bed taking up the center of the room. Abruptly exhausted, you heaved a sigh and dropped your duffel bag on the floor. “You know what, it’s fine. It’s big enough that you won’t kick me in your sleep, anyways.”

Byounggon nodded, still looking guilty even though it wasn’t really his fault. If anything, it was yours. You were the one who had insisted you stop driving for the night instead of taking shifts behind the wheel.

You supposed this was just the result of an impulsive road trip, anyways. Things like getting the last available room in any of the hotels in the area came in the description. And if you had to share a room with anyone, you were glad it was Byounggon.

He was your best friend of nearly five years. You had met through your (now ex) boyfriend Choi Hyunsuk, and your relationship with your friend was arguably more emotionally complex than it had ever been with your partner.

You’d broken up with Hyunsuk a month ago and Byounggon, apparently sick of your moping, had proposed a road trip to clear your head. It didn’t matter that your best friend had started looking different to you, recently. Less like…well, just a friend. After all, what was the worst that could happen on a road trip with him?

You eyed the single bed again and instructed him to shower before you, using the time to text your friends at home an update about stopping for the night. Once he had emerged, taking the time to intentionally shake his wet hair in your direction, you locked yourself in the bathroom and scrubbed any trace of the long car ride from your skin.

Thankfully, Byounggon was somehow already asleep by the time you were done, steam following your footsteps as you exited the bathroom. You dressed quickly, not bothering to root through your bag for a clean bra and underwear, just pulling on a t-shirt and some pajama shorts.

When you checked your phone as you crawled into the bed opposite him, the time read 1:30 AM. You settled down quickly, attempting not to disturb Byounggon’s slumber as he softly snored beside you.

…And unfortunately, quickly discovered you couldn’t sleep.

You peered at the digital clock on the bedside table, now reading 2:15. At this point, you weren’t sure you’d even be able to sleep at all. There was something about Byounggon, peacefully sleeping only a foot from you, that made you unreasonably jittery.

You couldn’t stop imagining what it would be like to roll over and look at his face. Maybe even touch him. You could wake him with a soft kiss to his lips, just to try it. He would probably stare at you in shock, but after a moment, he would desperately crush his lips to yours in a frantic attempt to taste you. He would worship your body with his tongue and those beautiful hands of his, then—

Get ahold of yourself!

You forced the runaway train in your mind to screech to a stop. It was just exhaustion clouding your thoughts. That’s got to be it, you thought to yourself. You’re just really tired, and he’s your best friend, and for some reason that’s making you horny.

You made a face at yourself in the dark. Your logic was weak even to yourself.

The mattress shifted beneath you and you froze. Did he know? You fretted for a moment that your vulgar thoughts had somehow woken Byounggon, as if that were even possible.

You hardly dared to breathe as he rolled and your breaths ceased completely when you felt his body touch yours. Byounggon’s chest met your back, his legs easily fitting with your own as he sought a comfortable position in his sleep. And, as if things couldn’t possibly get any worse, his arm slung over your waist, pulling you firmly against him until you were hopeless to find your way out of his grip without waking him.

This couldn’t be happening. Byounggon was spooning you in the middle of the night and you were so turned on that you thought you might burst into flames.

You were painfully aware of every place his body met yours, the heat of him permeating your clothes like it meant to touch every inch of you. He adjusted slightly and your cheeks flooded with color when his hips brushed your ass.

God, you’d never wanted to be touched so badly in your entire life. Your pajama shorts were soaked through and you subtly wiggled your hips, desperately searching for any sort of friction that would relieve the pressure there.

You sighed quietly as you rubbed your thighs together, savoring the insignificant amount of pleasure the action gave you. Not enough. Not nearly enough.

Byounggon exhaled deeply in your ear and he shifted again, his hips touching you just enough to drive you insane. Completely on accident, your movements matched his, pressing your ass back just as his hips moved forward.

Byounggon’s breath caught. You froze. If he woke up now, you might just die of embarrassment. If he ever knew that you had been this turned on because of him, you would never be able to look him in the eyes again.

His arm tightened around your waist, pulling you closer to his chest. His heart was beating wildly, much too fast for someone supposed to be asleep.

Oh god.

“If you keep doing that,” Byounggon breathed in your ear, “I won’t be able to stop myself.”

Chills erupted across your skin, your heartbeat speeding to a gallop. You could feel it between your legs, the heat and pressure there so intense that tears stung behind your eyes.

You twisted to look at him. His eyes gleamed in the moonlight coming in through the window, focused entirely on your face with an expression you’d never seen him wear before.

“Did I wake you?” You whispered, a thousand apologies in your voice. You felt very near to dying of embarrassment.

Byounggon’s arm around you moved lower until it was slung across your pelvis and, without warning, he tugged you roughly toward him so your ass was flush against his hips. Heat flooded every inch of you at the hard, impressive length you felt prodding insistently into your backside.

“I woke up before you started grinding on me, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Unable to help yourself, you repeated the action as you half-moaned, “I’m so sorry, I really didn’t mean to.”

Byounggon didn’t respond right away. He rolled his hips and you both gasped quietly at the sensation.

“If we don’t stop now,” his fingers dug into your hipbone as he held you in place against him, “I’m worried you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

You whimpered low in your throat, reaching up so you could grip the back of his neck in a hand. Your fingers threaded through his soft hair and, almost like you couldn’t control the urge, you tugged at the roots until he groaned.

“Gonie, please.” You had no idea what you were begging for. This was crossing a line that could never be uncrossed, but you didn’t particularly care at the moment. You just knew that if he didn’t touch you in the next thirty seconds you were in very real danger of combusting on the spot.

Byounggon groaned again at your use of his nickname, his voice low and rough with lust. He rolled his hips into yours with newfound urgency, his hard cock straining through his pants. You tilted your face up until your lips were brushing, just barely, and you panted in time with one another’s movements.

At last, he slotted his mouth with yours. Whatever illusion of self-control you’d had vanished instantly and you eagerly kissed him back. You deepened the kiss and his tongue invaded your parted lips with an urgency that made you clench around nothing.

His fingers splayed against your stomach, holding you against him as he continued to grind into you. You whimpered into his mouth, aching to be touched. His fingertips traced your waistband once before diving beneath it, and Byounggon moaned into your mouth at the slickness he found waiting between your legs.

You nearly cried out at the first swipe of his fingers over your clit. He rubbed firm figure-eights over the spot with his thumb, his long index and middle fingers teasing your dripping entrance.

“No panties, baby?” He whispered against your mouth. You shook your head vigorously and ground your hips down onto his hand, shamelessly seeking pleasure from his fingers. “God, you’re so wet for me already. How long have you been thinking about this?”

Longer than you wanted to admit. “Too long.” You kissed him again before he could respond, taking his full bottom lip between your teeth.

You shuddered when his fingers at last slid into you, pumping at a pace that immediately had your legs quivering. His mouth covered yours, kissing you feverishly like he meant to absorb your moans completely.

You climbed steadily towards your release as Byounggon’s fingers expertly worked you, his thumb still rubbing glorious circles onto your clit. Your hips rocked on his hand, any trace of embarrassment lost in your desperation to cum.

“You’re so tight, baby. Can’t wait to be inside you—” He cut himself off when his lips pressed to the side of your throat, sucking hickies onto the skin there. It was almost painful, but his mouth left your skin tingling and the thought of the bruises he would leave turned you on even more. Your walls were clenching wildly around his fingers—if he kept this up, you wouldn’t last a minute.

“God, Byounggon, I’m gonna cum.” You gasped out, your hand searching purchase on any part of him it could reach. It finally settled on his ass, which you dug your fingernails into hard enough that his breath whooshed out of him in a hiss.

He removed his hand from your pants quicker than you could stop him. You let out an indignant noise and craned your head back to look at him just in time to see him suck your slickness off his fingers. Good god. He offered you a lazy smile when he saw your outraged expression, no doubt tinged with desperation.

“Not yet, baby.” He kissed you again and shifted away from you so you could lay on your back. “Need to taste you first.” You thought your heart might beat out of your chest as he kissed and licked his way down your body, removing your clothes as he went.

He sat back on his knees and tugged off his own shirt, his skin looking damn-near perfect in the soft moonlight.

“Shit, I’m gonna eat you alive.” You breathed, your eyes gobbling up the sight before you like you were a starving woman before a feast. Byounggon rewarded you with a smile that promised sin.

“You first.”

He settled between your legs, hiking your thighs over his shoulders as he roughly pulled you closer to his face by your hips. You gasped, your hand immediately sinking into his hair when his hot breath fanned across your naked pussy.

Byounggon licked an experimental stripe up your center with enough pressure that you moaned. Pleased by your response, he did it again, the tip of his tongue lingering to draw circles over your clit. His fingers found your slick entrance again and he easily sank two fingers knuckle-deep inside you.

“You’re such a good girl for me, so needy and wet. Do you want to cum?”

“Yes. Yes, oh my god.”

“Ask for permission.”

You tugged at the roots of his hair harshly, more to ground yourself to reality than hurt him. “Can I cum? Please, Gonie, let me cum, pleasepleaseplease—”

Rather than respond to your begging with words, Byounggon moaned against your clit, the vibrations making you clench around his fingers again. He hit your g-spot on every thrust, his tongue matching the rhythm of his hand as you climbed toward your orgasm.

You rolled your hips onto his face and he slung his arm across your stomach to hold you down. He hummed into you again, this time dragging his tongue lower so he could lap at your entrance. You watched him, breathless, completely enamored by him and the way he was making you feel.

It was watching Byounggon gently thrust against the bed, seeking any sort of friction as he worshipped you with his tongue, that finally sent you catapulting off the edge.

Your eyes screwed shut as your orgasm tore through you, so powerfully that your entire body locked. Your thighs unintentionally closed around Byounggon’s head. He didn’t seem to mind in the slightest; he continued to lick lazy stripes between your folds, eagerly accepting any of your release that dripped from your entrance.

You only pushed him away gently when the overstimulation to your clit became too much. He grinned at the fucked-out smile you gave him, your eyes glazed and cheeks stained with color.

"You taste fucking incredible."

He crawled up your body, once again planting open-mouthed kisses to any bit of your skin in his path.

He removed his pants with ease, and at last there was nothing between you as his hips settled between your thighs.

Byounggon dragged his cock between your dripping folds, his precum only adding to the slickness there.

“You want me to fuck you, baby?” He palmed one of your breasts as he spoke, pinching your nipple between his fingers. You nodded frantically, already desperate for him again. “Want me to turn you into the slut I know you are?”

“Please, please fuck me—”

“So needy.” Byounggon chuckled and you clenched. You were so eager to be filled by him that you thought you might scream.

You locked your ankles around his waist, attempting to pull him into you by force if necessary. He laughed again, the sound so condescending that heat flooded your face.

“I’ll warn you,” he leaned down so his lips were pressed to your ear, “I’m big. It might hurt at first.”

“Don’t care, please, please—”

Your words cut off into a vulgar moan when his cock entered you at last. He was only able to get halfway in before you couldn’t take any more, regardless of the fact that you were already soaking. The stretch was incredible, though Byounggon was right—he was big, and it was a little painful.

He worked his way into you slowly, pulling out a bit before sinking in further than before. Tears pricked your eyes, a mix of pleasure and pain.

You dug your fingernails into his biceps, appreciating the way they flexed beneath your touch while he held himself above you.

“I don’t know if you’ll fit—ah—”

“You can take it.” You unhelpfully clenched around his cock at the guttural sound of his voice. You were glad to know that you weren’t the only one affected by this—one wrong move and Byounggon was in very real danger of finishing too soon.

After a few minutes of carefully stretching you to accommodate him, he sank into you until his hips were pressed flush against yours. Your legs shook around him, the pain from before replaced only by pleasure as Byounggon thrusted deep inside you.

“God, such a good girl, taking me so well.”

You pressed your head into the pillows as he picked up his pace, his hips snapping into yours at an angle that had you squirming. He groaned low in his throat every time you clenched around him.

His long fingers wrapped around your throat, applying delicious pressure to the sides while he pressed messy kisses to your forehead. His movements were already erratic, less precise—you were squeezing him so tight, there was no way he could last.

His hand not around your throat found your clit again, rubbing expert circles over it in time with his thrusts. You moaned senselessly, muttering praises and begging for him to make you cum again.

“Such a little slut, aren’t you? Come on, cum on my cock.”

He pulled you up with him until he was sat back on his heels, you straddling his lap. You instantly began riding him, your arms locked around his shoulders as you recklessly chased your high. So close, so so so close—

Byounggon let out a moan that you swore was the hottest sound you had ever heard. His hands shook as he gripped your waist hard enough to bruise, dragging you up and down on his cock at a ruthless pace.

You came for the second time with a cry and slammed yourself down onto him. He twitched inside you, filling you with thick bursts of cum as you clenched around him so hard that he whimpered.

Your sweat-slick bodies trembled in the aftermath of your orgasms as you held one another, still sitting upright with his cock buried deep inside you.

After what felt like an eternity, Byounggon removed his head from your shoulder to look you in the eyes. His expression was softer now, filled with something that looked suspiciously like adoration as he brushed your sweaty hair from your face.

“You okay?”

It was then you realized there were tears staining your cheeks, but they weren’t from sadness. Quite the opposite, actually. You wiped them away with the heels of your hands and gave him a beaming smile.

“Sorry again for waking you up," you said sheepishly.

Byounggon laughed and softly flicked your nose. “I’ll get woken up like that any day.”

He gently removed himself from you, having to force himself to look away from his release that dripped from your entrance. If he stared for too long, he might very well fuck you again.

He grabbed a towel from the bathroom and tenderly cleaned you up, still offering kisses over the places his mouth or hands had left marks.

When you finally settled down again, you were too fucked out to think about the fact that your best friend had just sexed the life out of you. That was a problem for later.

Byounggon tucked your head beneath his chin, tracing feather-light shapes across your shoulder blades with his knuckles.

“Hey, Gon?”

“Yeah?”

You smiled to yourself and bit your lip. “If you’re fine with it, I’d like to just get one bed from now on.”

He laughed softly and swiftly kissed the top of your head. “I think we can make that work.”

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