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MARK ❄️ WINTER HEPTAGON CONCEPT IMAGES [WINTER VERSION]

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MARKTUAN

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MARK Crash & Burn / 191107

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MARK TUAN for ESQUIRE Hong Kong (January, 2025)

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MARK NESTFEST / BEHIND FILM

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MARK TUAN: L'OFFICIEL HOMMES NOV. 2023

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MARK TUAN for Calvin Klein (2024)

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THIS IS HOW I LEARN 😭😭😭😭

wonwoo enlistment starter pack

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THIS THIS THIS

From one reader to another: please reblog fics you enjoy!

Authors aren't asking for essay length comments (though I doubt they'd ever be upset for getting one) but just something to let them know that their time and work is appreciated!

Reblogging not only helps push the stories to others, but it also helps if you ever want to find something again. Tumblr's search feature is absolute ass, so truly the best way is to reblog so you know how and where to find it again

to a dying? atinyblr

i don't usually speak about these things, but a lot of blogs (amazing writers) are leaving this platform or taking time off bc of lack of engagement which serves as a big demotivating factor. especially and specifically in this atiny fandom, some things have come to my attention and i just want all readers and writers to take a look at this post and refresh some reading and writing etiquettes, as well as revive the essence of being a part of this fandom.

feedback:

i understand that there are a lot of silent readers on here, but since tumblr is dying and our fandom is not very huge, the least you can do to show the writers some support is like the post. 

which brings me to the point that the like function didn't even exist in the past. this site still runs on reblogs. as readers, to show your favourite writers some semblance of support, you should be reblogging with tags. a simple ‘#ateez x reader’ or ‘#ateez fics’ is enough. it's literally not asking for much– reblogs are the only way writers can get reach.

if you cannot do that bc of your blog's aesthetic or whatever, side blogs exist. if you still cannot do that, a simple anon ask appreciating the writer sometimes saves them.

also, what has happened to the quality of reblogs? readers consume years of writers’ work and efforts in mere hours and don’t even leave any feedback? art in general in all forms is very underappreciated and with all sorts of problems like plagiarism, ai writing and everything, true art and writing is dying and needs to be appreciated now more than ever. we’re literally the last generation witnessing ai take over in all fields of arts. appreciate content creators before it’s too late, don’t be a content glutton!

updates and requests:

asking writers for updates when they specifically mention that they would prefer posting at their pace is wrong for so many reasons– we all have a real life. you, the reader, do too. just like you don't always have time to read, writers don't always have time to write. do you ever see the writers asking their readers 'why have you not read my latest chapter?' 

most of the times, writers mention in their bio/faq post or elsewhere that they do mind being asked about updates. respect your writers, please, and do a little scroll before you send such demanding asks (also, sugarcoating when asking for updates does not make it any better!)

if you are only asking about updates, it demotivates a lot of writers bc these same people will disappear when it is time for feedback. writing is a form of art. we can write, artists can paint, musicians can compose music, but all of it has no meaning unless it is shared with an audience and appreciated. readers are just as important as the writers but there is no way of knowing fics are valued unless feedback is given.

the same goes for requests. you can only send a request when the requests are open, which is usually mentioned in the writer’s bio/faq post. it’s literally not that hard to check if requests are open and it’s basic decency to not send a request when the writers specifically mention that requests are closed. when sending a request, please be courteous. a ‘please’ or ‘thank you’ are examples of being courteous when sending requests.

the fanfics in atinyblr:

i understand that you can read whatever you like, but why is it that in the atiny fandom, fics that do not contain smut hardly ever get attention? as a writer, i enjoy writing and reading smut, and while i am not specifically a smut blog, i have noticed how fics containing smut get far more reach than fics that do not contain smut– not just in my case, but other amazing writers as well. 

there are such amazing fictions in this fandom. all fics are crafted with dedication and care, yet stories without smut often get sidelined. writers are not able to express themselves in their writing freely anymore and they simply conform to a genre they know readers will consume, as they are forced to consider adding smut to their stories so they can get more reach in this fandom. i have heard accounts from a lot of writers who were inclined to add smut to an otherwise smut-free fic just for reach.

this is by no means hate to the smut writers. i am also not placing blame on them. smut drabbles have always been in this fandom, and there are amazing smut writers out there, doing their thing. it is the readers here who are failing the writers. readers are quick to talk about the lack of ‘good fics’ or ‘plot’ yet will not even bother searching for these works. there used to be a good balance and appreciation for all genres alike.

i know that smut is what's hot and trendy these days, and drabbles in general, no matter the genre, are easier to read when you want to take a short break. but there is such a lack of longfics in this fandom, especially as of lately, and as someone who has personally witnessed the ratio of longfics decrease exponentially, i felt the need to point this out. appreciate all writers! appreciate all genres! longfic writers need as much validation and encouragement as drabble writers, and vice versa! don't be too harsh on longfic writers for not pumping out fics at the same speed as shortfic writers.

and on that note, smut drabble writers experience a lack of quality feedback despite the high engagement, so readers, please don't hesitate to point out exactly what you liked about a fic, even if it's a short drabble! be kind to those writers, give them time to write and be kind when sending requests! they may post more often but they, too, have a life.

tags:

this is specifically for the people who will post a very normal picture of a member, no caption, but tag it something like #ateez smut, #ateez hard hours, #ateez x reader. and for the people who tag their asks with irrelevant tags– literally learn to tag your post properly, and stop crowding the wrong tags. you're just proving the point that if you don't tag a post with the smut tag or something similar, it won't get reach. if you've posted with a caption, that makes sense (though it still doesn't warrant some of the tags being used there).

as for writers, also learn to use your tags appropriately. fics that do not contain smut should not be tagged with smut related tags. believe in yourself. i get that there is the problem of reach but do not overcrowd tags with irrelevant material.

disclaimer:

this is by no means about me. if i cared about the notes, or lack thereof, i would have stopped writing a while ago. while it is challenging to be a writer here, especially as of lately, i still enjoy posting whatever i write no matter the genre or the word count. but it's a bit disappointing that my planned out fics get much less attention than a simple smut headcanons post that i wrote in the heat of the moment with my friend in literally a few hours as a joke (which has reached almost 10k notes btw in a span of 2 years). sure, it has exposed my blog to new readers but that's about it.

this post is for all the amazing writers who have left, are thinking of leaving, or are struggling to voice these problems because they are afraid of being marked as 'problematic' or a 'hater' or something worse. i am not afraid to voice my opinion on here, and if you think that i am wrong, feel free to interact with this post and correct me because i am not claiming that i am right about this.

these are just the observations i have made as someone who has been actively writing on this platform for about 4 years now, and since i have a decent number of followers, i hope this post gets more reach. do not be afraid to reblog this if you agree, and even if you do not, reblog this so someone else gets educated. i may have missed some points so feel free to add if you want too.

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CIY CH 30

Chapter Thirty

📍Pairing: detective ateez ot8 x detective afab reader 📍Summary: "Welcome Home" 📍WC: 3.2k 📍AU: detective/mafia 📍Genre: action, dark romance, poly romance 📍Warning(s): 18+ rating (all of CIY is), anxiety 📍Beta readers (and sole motivation): @yourfatherlucifer, @bunnliix, and @adelusionforyourthoughts 📍AN: The last chapter of Case: It's You. Book 2, Case: It's Us will begin posting most likely in the beginning of March. I have some collabs i want to focus on and to knock out pieces i missed last year with FFF. Anyways, the taglist fo CIU will be reset and directions to join will be listed at the end of this chapter. Are you ready for the climax of Case: It's You? 📍dividers and banner made by me!

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masterlist | Previous

It was a lot more nerve wracking descending the stairs than you thought, a lot less prepared for this conversation than you had hoped for. You could see the majority of the open space, the industrial pipes and vents above with the fans blowing air. The whole space was renovated nicely, with a large sitting area that doubled as a game or theater set up with the large flat screen on the stone wall. Shelves occupied the rest full of books and other items, including a dagger and sword collection.

Wooyoung was the last to notice your presence, moving about the large industrial type kitchen cooking up a feast just as you had asked, but the others had all stopped to look up at the stairs the moment the door opened. San had let you step out first, taking it slow as you fought off the panic that threatened to engulf you. You told yourself you had no reason to be scared, they wouldn’t hurt you. Yeosang was watching from over his monitors he had set up on the dining table, Jongho standing next to him, while the other four were standing in the living area discussing something important if you had to guess from their demeanor.

They just… stared. Some smiled, like Hongjoong and Yunho, even Yeosang had a shy little smile. But otherwise their concern was so evident it almost made you turn and run back into the room. Wooyoung, bless him, noticed that when he noticed you. “There’s my pretty girl- hey! Y'all stop gawking at her! Not unless you’re going to get on your knees and beg for her love.” He pointed his spatula at a few of them as if ready to hit.

Yunho chuckled and made his way over to meet you at the bottom of the stairs. “Sorry about that butterfly, we’re just happy to see you moving about.” You rolled your eyes but took his outstretched hand once you reached the last step. “Yeah, well, get used to it. I’m not about to be some doll you keep in a box.”

He smiled wider, stopping you there instead of helping you down like you thought. “Wouldn’t dream of it Butterfly, you’re meant to fly after all.” Blushing at his comment, you gently smacked his shoulder. “Shut it charmer, I’m hungry and I’d like to chit chat.” “Of course, anything you want.” He hummed out and then swept you into his arms. He hadn’t  been as clingy as the other two, so the contact threw you off, for a moment reminding you of the night you found out everything.

It left a bad taste in your mouth and had you scrambling out of his arms. “I can walk just fine.” With a huff you moved past him to the others: in particular Hongjoong. “I want answers. Please.” He nodded, sombering up and looking to the others. They each sat down and both Yeosang and Jongho made their way over. Yunho took his seat next to Mingi, placing a hand on his thigh to still Mingi's bouncing leg, Yeosang sitting next to Mingi on the other side and and Jongho sat on the arm next to him, all on one sofa. You glanced at San to have him sit, which he did, sitting on the far end of the other couch next to Seonghwa.

Even Wooyoung paused in his cook, leaning against the counter and giving you all his attention.

While you were thankful they did, none of them standing above you and giving you ample space, the intensity of their stares made you uneasy. Unwavering attention, somber expressions, even Jongho’s usual tense demeanor was for a different reason: concern for you.

Taking a deep breath, you let it out in a huff, placing your hands on your hips and furrowing your brow with a playful glare. “I swear to fucking God if you don't relax a little I'm going to start swinging! I'm not going to suddenly combust and I'm not made of crystal either.” 

At your threat, there were some tense smiles, but other Wooyoung scoffing in the kitchen no one relaxed.

“Yes you are.”

Surprisingly, it was Jongho who spoke up, drawing your attention with eyes wide with shock. “What did you say?” You took a step closer, ready to fight him on it. You weren't fragile. You weren’t-

“You are fragile. Ready to combust. Crystal or glass or whatever.” He repeated, shifting on the arm rest as Yeosang grabbed his arm with alarm. “I'm just saying what everyone is thinking! And it's true. When I found you…”

As he trailed off you stepped forward, thigh brushing his knee as you stared him down with a locked brow. “What? What about it?!”

“Easy Gorgeous, this is what you wanted to talk about right?” Hongjoong stood up to try and intervene but you held up a hand to stop him, gaze locked onto Jongho's in a battle of wills.

“When I found you… when you held on to me, I thought… I thought we lost you for good.” His tone significantly softened, but he held eye contact, seeming just as shocked as you were by his words. “We don't want to lose you.”

“And when was I ever yours to lose Choi Jongho? Maybe some of the others but yours? Don't make me laugh.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes and waving him off dismissively.

Just for him to grab your hand and pull you closer. Out of reaction. You brought your other hand down in an attempt to hit him, just for him to grab your wrist. Both were now locked in his hands, his feet hooking behind your calves and effectively trapping you against him while he still sat on the arm of the couch unwavering. “Let. Me. GO!” You still struggled, but while you were smaller and could be quick, he was much more physically fit and overpowering. Despite your best efforts your breathing became labored, eyes wide with unbridled fear as your body reacted from trauma as opposed to Jongho himself.

Despite his rough grip, his face softened. “Look at me, little one, I’m not going to hurt you.”

Stiffening at the pet name, heat flooded your senses, mingling with the icy fear that was in your veins and somehow balancing it out. He didn’t say anything else, nor make a move, just waited out for your struggling to seize. Instead you deflated, hands balled into fists to try and keep your fingers from trembling more than they were. “Why does it matter to you?” Your previous demeanor to take action and demand answers was long gone, the vulnerable side of yourself that you often rejected coming back to the surface. These men had a way of bringing it out, apparently that meant Jongho as well. “I…” He started, dropping his hands from your wrists to settle on his thighs, giving you the option to back out if you wanted. When you didn’t, he continued, a tremble in his voice. “You… you matter to me little one, more than I’d like to admit. Butting heads with you, watching you thrive in this kind of work, seeing the way you interact with my partners here… It all matters to me. I’m sorry I reacted poorly, I thought if I could get you to walk away before you got too deep there was a chance for you to be happy elsewhere but… that’s not an option anymore is it?” You shook your head, staring at him as if he had just grown a second head. Softness was not something you expected to ever see from this man, and coupled with the pet name it had you feeling some type of way. “No… it’s not. I want to be a part of this. No, I need it. With you all. I want…” You paused, taking a deep breath to gather up what courage you could, turning to look at every single one of them before meeting Jongho’s still soft gaze. It felt like you had to tell him this the most. “I want to join the Black Pirates.” The way he smiled up at you had the apples of your cheeks burning, for a brief second finding him adorable. “For new members we take a vote and if it’s not unanimous, it fails. Should we take a vote?” He looked to the others, but you were staring at him, a question in them. “It’s not the first time for the vote… no, but I disagreed every time. I get it if that makes you angry at me.” Swallowing hard, you shook your head. Now that you understood a bit of why he was so hateful to you, you couldn’t be upset with his actions. Well, not at this moment. You might give him hell for it later though. “Just you though?” You couldn’t help but glance over at Yeosang and Yunho, having thought they two might have protested at least. You know San and Wooyoung wanted you since the first time you met them both, and the others had shown so as well over the last few weeks.

Yeosang caught you looking at him and smiled sheepishly, nodding his head. “I want you here. I uh- well…” He trailed off, getting more bashful the more you stared expectantly.

It was Wooyoung that chimed in, making his way over in a rush, announcing himself with a giggle before he pulled you back against him once he was sure you would not panic about it. “Sangie is obsessed with you, Goddess. Asks about you constantly, praises you. It’s so fucking cute to get him flustered just by mentioning you. You know, if you sat on his lap right now he would practically combust? He’s never been with a woman, just us, you could teach him a few things.”

“Wooyoung!” San stepped in, huffing as he stood up. “Let’s not suggest things like that right now.” “Why not? I think it would be very healing for her to hear just how much we want her and care about her. Did you know, love, that he’s been your secret admirer for awhile? Like that breakfast waiting for you the day you were late. Oh that was fun to get out of him.” You could hardly process what he was saying, watching the way Yeosang fidgeted and now refused to look at you, much like a shy boy in the presence of his crush. When Jongho slid his hand through the man’s hair, eliciting a low deep moan from him, your brain went haywire. Of course you had already decided Yeosang was adorable and had a lot of cute habits, like his lisp and the way he would preen at your praise just to name a few.

“I see. I’ll keep that in mind.” Shit, were you actually getting aroused by this? It was a nice thought that you actually could, but you knew the act itself was off the table. Especially if Jongho touching you like that had adrenaline running in your veins ready to fight and run. So you turned your attention right to Mingi who was sitting next to the pretty boy. He was watching with those boba eyes of his that melted your heart. You hadn’t talked to him since he had interrupted your time with Wooyoung, pouting from your lack of attention. “Do you want me here?” The sex, the shared moments in between, and the brief moments after… you couldn’t say for certain that he did want you here.

He looked offended you asked. “Of course I do Princess. Do you have any idea how badass and amazing you are? You’re an upgrade to our team for sure. And not just because the sex was amazing, I like you for way more than just that.” He elbowed Yunho next to him. “Right?” Yunho nodded, smiling softly as he patted his thigh and met your gaze. “Remember what I told you, Butterfly? This is another way I meant it, as a Pirate. San has always been right about you being perfect for us, and that means in this way too. You’re a hard worker, you fight for what you believe in, and you’re a force to be reckoned with. My balls still hurt thinking about your knee, you know.” He teased with a wink, resulting in a blush on your own cheeks. “I do feel bad about that but it didn’t seem to affect your performance.” You pointed out, shifting in Wooyoung’s arms. The man tightened his hold on you, chin resting on your shoulder as he let out a whine. “And you know how San and I feel already. We love you. Cherish you. Most definitely worship the ground you walk on Goddess. Having you as a Pirate with us? It’s perfect. You’re perfect.” Fighting off the smile that wanted to spread across your lips was hard, so you didn’t. Especially when you locked eyes with San, his own smile mirroring yours, his dimples on full display. “You two are charmers, I swear.” San chuckled with Wooyoung, the broader man nodding. “It worked, we got you now don’t we?” You couldn’t deny that, warmth spreading through your body at their obvious affection. That meant six out of eight agreed for you to join. Six out of eight of them wanted you, wanted to work with you as an equal and a partner. Hesitantly you glanced at Seonghwa, feeling a bit intimidated despite knowing he did care for you. Still, you had held him at gunpoint, he had freed you at the safe house and you had, essentially, killed a man to try and fight for him and Hongjoong. Did they know that? How you had made that decision, in that moment, to fight for them? With nothing more than a knife? The way Seonghwa softened, you thought maybe he did. You felt shy, insecure, anxiety eating in your chest. So much had happened, all the care shown to you over this last week being second guessed at this moment. And he seemed to know that. “Angel?” He started, standing up slowly as you removed yourself from Wooyoung’s hold, his presence suddenly overwhelming for you. “Hey, it’s okay-” “It’s not. It’s not okay.” You stammered out, backing away from Wooyoung to create some space as heavy weighted emotions took hold in your heart. It finally hit, not just what had happened by the Red Wolves hand, but what led up to it. Your questioning at gunpoint, the way Yunho fucked you, being held hostage by them and still choosing to fight. What if that changed things? Did that really make you good enough? Did that really make you deserving of their words? Seonghwa shared a quick glance with Hongjoong and both approached you, stopping when you backed up. The guilt and pain that twisted their features suddenly twisted your own emotions in your gut. “You don’t think you deserve this… do you? Being a Pirate?” When you nodded, they reacted in a way that had you jumping, staring at Hongjoong now on his knees as he had fallen to them with a groan of pain. Seonghwa was shaking his head, using your shock over Hongjoong to close the distance and grab you by the waist. You jumped at that, attempting to pull away until you saw the gun.

“This is why, isn’t it? You don’t think we want someone that hurt us?” There was pure anguish in his voice, pushing it against your chest. “You think you’re a liability after what happened? And wondering just how we can agree to having you on board huh?” You hated how right he was, holding onto the gun because he wasn’t giving you a choice. “You wouldn’t have gone with them if I wasn’t there. I wouldn’t have been there if I didn’t hold you at gun point. You wouldn’t-” You were shut up with a kiss, words muffled against Seonghwa’s lips as he held you tight against him. Your mind went blank, confusion settling under the bliss that came from his sweet lips on yours. 

When he pulled away, he directed your attention to Hongjoong who was gripping his knees tightly, still on the ground but tense. He presented himself as if he was offering his life up to you for a mistake. And in hindsight, he was. He blamed himself for what happened, you could see it in his eyes, hear it in the way he said your full name, slowly and syllable by syllable. “We signed up for situations like that, you hadn’t. Being a Pirate means there will always be a chance of that happening again-” The air in the room grew thick with a new tension, somber expressions befalling each member as they looked at you almost protectively. You normally would hate it, demand that you could take care of yourself.

But they knew you could, they admired that you could, and therefore their protective demeanor meant something entirely different to you.

Tears were running down your cheeks unexpectedly, finding new strength to pull from Seonghwa. He let you, watching as you were on your knees before Hongjoong the next second, wrapping your arms around his neck and holding onto him. He latched on, burying his face into the crook of your neck, trembling in your arms. “Being a Pirate means I’m with you, all eight of you, and that’s more than worth the risk Hongjoong. I can’t think of anywhere else I want to be, or that fits me more. Working with you all, being with you all, just… this is my home, isn’t it?” There were arms wrapping around you both, a kiss pressed to the top of your head. You didn’t have to look up to know it was Seonghwa, the sound of his humming filling your ears. “Welcome home then Angel. We’re happy to have you.” Hongjoong’s arms tightened around you, a wet spot forming on your shirt from his own silent tears. “We’re in this together, Firecracker. Promise not to let you get hurt like that again okay?” As much as going through that again would terrify you, you glanced around the room, taking note of the others. Wooyoung was now holding San’s hand, freely crying while San was trying not too, both looking as if they wanted to come join. You waved them over, and they joined rather fast, surrounding you with so much warmth. Wooyoung on your right across from Seonghwa and San now behind you. Both kissing the top of your head just like Seonghwa did.

Then there were the other four, Mingi and Yeosang leaning into their respective partners, both Yunho and Jongho sharing a look of determination, all four watching you. With your own determination, you took a deep breath and kissed the top of Hongjoong’s head instead. “If I do… I’ll be okay. I’ll have the eight of you right? I think I can handle anything if I have you all in my corner.”

The four of them squeezed you tightly, the amount of emotions in the room overwhelming but it felt right. It felt right to experience this with them all, to be vulnerable with them and receive this support. This is what it meant to be with them all, to be in this together.

Seonghwa said the final words, making it official as he seemed to comfort his family; his lovers. “Then together. Welcome home Angel.”

To be part of the taglist you MUST follow these directions! 1- Reblog this chapter. No blank reblogs will be considered, feedback is needed.

2- Reblog the Case: It's You Masterlist with at least one thing you liked about the series.

3- You will NOT be added to the taglist if you do not have your age in your bio or have the tumblr basic photo. You will be blocked for no age, but if you have the basic pfp i will just exclude you from the taglist.

4- there will be a cap of 100, as i do not think 100 people will follow these directions to the tee.

5- there is the ao3 version of Case: It's You and Case: It's Us will be posted in time with the tumblr here. So if you want to be a silent reader, or miss your chance for the taglist, I suggest subscribing to both CIY and CIU when it comes out on ao3. My ao3 username is: Cutiepiedoom. You can also search for the story. The reason I'm doing this: Tumblr writing community is dying, I work hard for this story and yes I choose to post for free but I can also choose to only send to those I know enjoy this. i do not have to share my work, i can stop any time i want and I will if i think at any point it is not worth it to post. A Taglist in particular is a waste of my time, so I'd rather make sure I'm tagging people I KNOW are going to enjoy this series. And that means reblogging it, giving me feedback, geeking out about it, letting the author know that it is LOVED. Thats all you need to do and i can promise you thats plenty of motivation for authors to give more and more. It brightens are bad days and keeps our love for our hobby alive. So please, don't bitch about this <3

Thank you~ Doom.

[seungcheollies-cake]

The Leaders | Masterlist

"this is the underworld that no one escapes from"

ot8!ateez x f!reader

mafia au

genres and warnings: slowburn, angst, fluff, eventual smut (mdni!) poly!ateez, smoking, drinking, gambling, illegal businesses, politics, violence, heavy themes, mild gore, multiple pairings, more specific warnings in the chapters

estimated word count: approx 200k

synopsis: in eden 1970, you join the inner circle of the crescent company by sharing information that could crumble the very foundations of eden itself. amidst the dark world of manipulation, connections, dirty politics and illegal dealings, you navigate with eight seemingly-refined gentlemen who have your back as the war with the elites begins. 

timeline | maps (to be released)

chapters:

one |

status: coming soon

taglist: apply here!

[seungcheollies-cake]

CIY CH 29

Chapter Twenty-Nine

📍Pairing: detective ateez ot8 x detective afab reader

📍Summary: "It's okay to be scared"

📍WC: 3k

📍AU: detective/mafia

📍Genre: action, dark romance, poly romance

📍Warning(s): mentions of torture/r@pe, mentions of minor character death, mentions of sex trafficking and kidnapping, PTSD, panic attacks. trauma triggers.

📍Beta readers (and sole motivation): @yourfatherlucifer, @flurrys-creativity , @bunnliix, @adelusionforyourthoughts and occasionally @daemour

📍AN: a comfort chapter but there are still some serious topics so read at your own risk. also, not all panic attacks are like what reader experiences here in the chapter (this is going off my own p.a)

📍dividers and banner made by me!

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masterlist | Previous | Last

You couldn’t say how long had passed. A week? Maybe more? You hadn’t really moved from the room you were in, everything you could possibly need was brought to you. Food, water, any clothes from your apartment or belongings. Though you opted more for their clothes, the eager way some of them had begun to fight over who’s clothes you would wear next had you laughing.

To say you haven’t had a moment alone would be an understatement. Someone was with you always, even when you had to use the restroom. Which- that was an embarrassing situation on its own, but after you had tried to take care of yourself alone the first time… well the embarrassment was better than the pain and anguish.

Surprisingly you didn’t mind someone glued to your side at all times. If it wasn’t Wooyoung, it was San. If it wasn’t one of them, it was Seonghwa. On occasion there were multiple. Sometimes Hongjoong was in here with Seonghwa, sometimes Yeosang was sitting in the corner on his laptop while Wooyoung or San, or both, had your undivided attention.

Only for it to die as soon as you noticed the way they were looking at you. In awe, like their chest was aching.

It felt… wrong.

You were both grateful and appalled at the attention, and at the way they gave it. Ready to serve you, which from Wooyoung was normal and easy to accept- but when it was Seonghwa? Or the rare moments Mingi or Jongho or Yunho were here and soft with you… it left a bitter taste in your mouth.

None of them talked about it. They didn’t mention what had happened, nor the days before. Not even when you woke up screaming from a night terror, fighting off and hitting Hongjoong who had been the one watching you. The fact they felt the need to watch you was aggravating to say the least. Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to be the first to say it. To mention it. To speak it into existence.

Once the pain began to subside, it was easier to forget it happened, pushing it to the back of your mind. In fact you were determined to act as if it had never happened, which wasn’t very easy to do, sandwiched between Wooyoung and San.

They were the touchiest, which you didn’t mind. Wooyoung was always touchy, but unlike before they were gentle and sweet: cupping your cheek, playing with your hands, kisses to your knuckles, and back rubs. San gave the better back rubs, rough and larger hands easing the tension there, but there was still a hard limit to how much they would touch you, as if the wrong touch would set you off. 

With a huff you pushed yourself up, both of them sitting up just as quickly ready to get you anything you needed. You let the annoyance show. “I’m hungry and I want to shower. One of you is a radiating heater and I am laying in my own sweat for fuck’s sake.”

San chuckled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry Sweetcheeks, I can help you with the shower-”

“No, I want to shower by myself. You can help Mister Chef with the food.” You stared down your nose at him, daring him to say otherwise.

“How about I stay right here just in case you need me?”

“San.” You warned, ignoring Wooyoung who was watching the battle of wills with his fingers over his mouth in shock. “I can handle a fucking shower by myself.”

Sensing this was something you weren’t going to budge on, he sighed. “And you can shower by yourself, but I would like to sit out here and wait for you in case you do need me. I’ve been cleaning you up all week, who knows you might want me to fix the spots you missed.” He winked, resulting in you rolling your eyes.

His words did make you feel less suffocated, and you knew that was why he said them, which just had you conflicted. He read you a little too well sometimes.

“Fine then. Chef Wooyoung-”

“Yes my lovely Goddess?”

You also ignored their gazes on your back as you made your way to the bathroom, completely forgetting the fact that you had showered daily since coming here. Sometimes twice. Usually to keep your wounds clean, but mostly because you felt unclean. And each time, Wooyoung or San, or even Seonghwa, would stand in the shower in their swim shorts and a shirt to bathe you properly.

“I would like to come downstairs and eat so take your time.”

“Hm alright, I’m sure the others have suffered without my cooking anyways. Enjoy your shower Goddess. Would you like my clothes today?”

“I’m wearing them now.” You pointed out with a smirk. His sweats were the ones that fit you the easiest. “But I suppose.” Patting his head you climbed around them, ignoring the twinge of pain from your sore muscles. Being bedridden did numbers on your body, even recovering, but you ignored the damage in favor of putting on a brave face.

Before, you would focus all your attention on them, just follow their lead. Let them take care of you. It was easy.

Now, as you stare in the mirror with the shirt off, it was not easy.

The cuts and bruises had faded significantly but they were still there. There was still so much proof of what had happened. How can you pretend it didn’t when it was right there?

Taking a deep breath you pushed forward, muttering under your breath it was fine. You had left the bathroom door cracked, despite telling yourself it would have been fine to lock it and give yourself some space but the idea of you alone in a locked room?

You could handle this, you weren’t broken. He didn’t break you. It was just a shower.

Mentally you talked yourself through each step until you were under the nice luxury shower, shutting your eyes and letting the water run down your body. 

Big mistake.

There was no San or Wooyoung to keep you grounded. No clothes or sounds to remind you where you were, or keep your head out of that place.

You just wanted to forget. Just wanted to move on. But no matter how much you told yourself it didn’t happen, there was so much irrefutable proof that it did. No matter how much you didn’t want it to affect you, it did.

A scream erupted from you as arms were wrapped around you and you were pulled out of the shower. You slammed your fists down, hitting broad shoulders, but it didn’t deter whomever had you.

Not until you recognized San saying your name repeatedly.

You locked up, eyes flying open with fresh tears running down them. He had fresh scratches on his cheek from your nails, but his eyes held nothing but concern for you. “Are you with me now?”

They put so much effort into making you feel safe, you really didn’t know how to handle it. Was it because you were broken? No good to them? Or did they just feel like sucking up after what happened. You knew they felt guilty, from the moment you had latched onto Yunho when you woke up frightened. Then Wooyoung’s promise- which he had been keeping.

Slowly you nodded, realizing you were panting- no hyperventilating just a moment ago. “I- yes. Yes I’m here.”

“Good. We need to talk.” He turned the shower off and then grabbed a towel. He wrapped you up and carried you out to the bedroom, door shut and curtains pulled tight: usually both were open so you didn’t feel more trapped.

It was their way of caring for you, you couldn’t fault them for that. You just hated the why. Why they had to do so much. Treat you this way. And that without it you would be far more lost than you were now. You couldn’t run from it no matter how much you tried. How much you wanted to.

So as San sat you on the mattress and knelt before you, you peeled yourself away from him and grabbed the blankets to cocoon yourself in comfort. “Why did you come into the bathroom?”

San looked a bit perplexed, knees on the floor so he was still beneath you of sorts. “You were sobbing, quite loudly, and when I went in there you were struggling to breathe.” By your reaction, he gathered you hadn’t been aware of that. “Listen, I'm no stranger to these types of panic attacks. Sweetheart you have PTSD, which is understandable considering what happened. But pretending it didn’t happen isn’t going to fix it. Our bodies remember years after these things happen. I still struggle sometimes.”

Hugging the blanket tight you stared at him through the small hole you left yourself to breathe. “What do you mean? You went through something like that? Really?” It was hard to hide your disbelief, after all who could have gotten the jump on San? Big, muscly, trained to fight San?

He smiled wryly at you, and nodded. “Yeah… I did. I uh, guess it’s about time I let you in on my little secret. We went to school together, in fact you used to kick my ass in Taekwondo. I was a lot smaller then, higher pitched voice. Seemed to hit puberty late- yeah, now you remember.”

The more he had described himself, the more you did. The small twink that was a grade under year, and the only kid that wasn’t afraid to spare with you in your last year of high school. But he was shy, didn’t talk to you much, and he didn’t look much like the man before you. “But… didn’t that Choi San go missing shortly after his graduation? Don’t tell me you just joined up with these guys?”

He scoffed, but shook his head. “No, something happened first.” He crossed his arms over the mattress and rested his chin on the back of his hands, dropping the bomb. “I got sex trafficked. Red Wolves. I was one of the few that got sold in the city instead of shipped off, one of the Golden Circle business men had a certain… taste. It’s been a couple years but I still freak out about the idea of bottoming. I just…” He sighed, trailing off despite the bit of hurt in his voice. “Not with anyone here usually, but some days my mind just pluments and I can’t help it.”

Tears sprung back into your eyes at the imagery his words created. To imagine San, the sweet sunshine boy you remembered, going through something like that? “How’d you get out?”

“Wooyoung.” He brightened considerably at the name, smiling up at you. “He was hired as a call boy by the guy to do some things with me. He got me out by pulling some strings, and then put me here. I’m not the only one he got out of a tough bind, Yeosang too. He’s working hard to hopefully get his mother out of her situation but, that’s a lot harder than buying a sex slave or freeing you from someone else’s hold. Mingi too knows what it’s like, his mom got him into some serious shit when he was a minor.”

“Does it… does it ever go away?” You mumbled out, scooting closer and reaching for him.

Your heart hurt for every single one of them. You couldn’t imagine the pain and fear you felt belonging to one of these men. Sure they were mafia. Sure they lied to you. But how could you doubt them when they had treated you like this the past week or so?

So much made sense, and it warmed your heart to know their care wasn’t out of pity, but understanding. They knew the fear that you were put through. And they knew what came after.

San didn’t hesitate, sitting up straighter and holding his arms out. You climbed down onto his lap, shivering at the cold but he pulled the blankets back over you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Yes and no. It’s something that’s going to live with you forever. It’ll shape a lot of what you do, but if you mean the pain… that does go away. As long as you address it and feel it when it pops up. But then you have to remind yourself that it’s in the past. That man can’t hurt you any more- hell Hongjoong made sure of that. He was covered in the man’s blood.”

“I remember. I didn’t…. I didn’t know what to think about it at the time. I could barely process that Hongjoong and Seonghwa were there. That they were tortured too. I realize not like me… or maybe?”

“Yeah, what you went through was that bastard's way of trying to hurt them too. And I’m sorry about that baby girl. You're always going to be a weak spot for us, because we care so much about you. Wooyoung told you he loved you… he’s not the only one you know.” San gently rubbed your back, the same way he had every chance he got recently. It soothed you, helped regulate your breathing, and now you knew he did it because it probably worked for him too.

Smiling, you buried your face into his neck and breathed him in, always a comforting scent. “Are you going to confess now too?”

“Honestly I’m ashamed I wasn’t the first one. I liked you long before they even knew you.” He admitted with a huff and you could feel him smile as you laughed. “Even when you kicked my ass I thought you were the coolest girl and I had the biggest crush.”

Lifting your head you arched a brow. “Oh, now I see, that’s what you meant when you had said you had imagined pinning me down so many times. Twink 3000 was a major pervert huh?” You teased, laughing even more as he blushed, stumbling over his words.

“I was hoping you would forget I said that-”

“How can I?” You interrupted, cupping his jaw and forcing him to look at you. “There were times he would… touch me… that I comforted myself by thinking about those times with you guys. With you in the gym, Mingi, Wooyoung… I didn’t want to be scared of being touched like that.”

He softened, bringing his hands to your sides and holding you there. “It’s okay to be scared of it. It’s okay if you don’t trust us like that yet. Or ever again. We aren’t going to think less of you. We aren’t going to get upset if you don’t want us like that. Or if you only want one of us like that. Jongho doesn’t fuck all of us. Yeosang doesn’t either. Captain and Hwa share this bed, they’re a bit more than the rest of us but that’s fair. No one expects you to love or want us equally, but that doesn’t make you less of an equal in the ways that count.”

“Sannie-”

“It’s okay if you start crying randomly, or you need space or need the opposite. If you need a break or need to work. You went through something traumatic and you’re going to figure your triggers out and go through it differently than us.”

“Sannie.” You said it a bit louder this time, trying to get him out of his little tangent.

But he kept going, intent on getting his point across. “We just don’t know what you need yet so we were doing what works for us until you do but there isn’t anything wrong if you wanna keep this up too so like-”

“San!” You snapped out, then crashed your lips to his.

Sure you hadn’t intended on confessing to the little yapper, but you had been spurred on his and knowing you were loved after what happened was oddly healing. There was a long way to go though.

He was so startled he fell back, holding you to him but responding without hesitation once the shock passed. Of course kissing wasn’t something you thought you would want to do. Anything sexual, just as he had pointed out, but this was San.

This was your rock, your solid mountain. Your dimpled sunshine and perfect muscly pillow and you loved him. Just as much as you did Wooyoung.

“I guess I should talk to everyone and figure it out shouldn’t I?”

Your hands found San’s hair, curling in the short black strands and moaning against the kiss as you proved to yourself you could enjoy this. At least until his hands roamed down to your ass. Pulling away while simultaneously catching your breath you grabbed his hands. “Kisses for now. And yes, I love you. If you had stopped with your big ‘It’s okay’ speech for two seconds I could tell you that.”

He chuckled bashfully but was grinning up at you so much his dimples were on full display. “You looove me~”

“This is the part where you say it back dumbass.”

He laughed, sitting up just as he swept you into his arms and somehow managed to get you on the bed and him on his feet in a matter of seconds. “I love you too baby girl. Now let’s find those clothes for you and then we can go downstairs and eat. Though I am vetoing you being alone naked, or in a locked room until you actually feel comfortable and am not doing it just because we annoyed you with our clinginess.”

With a pout you nodded in agreement. Considering both seemed to be things you just couldn’t handle alone - yet - you could agree there. “Can I freely roam the building then and, I don’t know, try and do some work?”

“Oh so you do want to work?” He hummed out, moving over to the bin of clothes that had been gathered for you. “As a detective or…”

Now that was the real question. Traumatizing hostage experience aside, and your love for two of these men, where did you stand with them? As individuals, in a career sense… in a partner sense?

AN: One last chapter to go! Bringing Case: It's You to it's climax.

This story focused more on reader finding a home with Ateez and learning their secret, as well as some other things. but book 2, Case: It's Us, will tackle the usual plot point of taking down the rest of the crim world... if they can. From Revenge, to healing, to a whole lot of smut -- please look forward to book 2! I hope I can wrap this one up in a way that satisfies you all, and really shows where their relationship is here at the end of Book 1

Taglist will be done in reblogs and again, keep your eyes peeled for taglist instructions on the last chapter. Follow them and you will be added to the new taglist! The old one will be scrapped!

[seungcheollies-cake]

CIY CH 28

Chapter Twenty-Eight

📍Pairing: detective ateez ot8 x detective afab reader 📍Summary: "Sharp Words" 📍WC: 3.2k 📍AU: detective/mafia 📍Genre: action, dark romance, poly romance 📍Warning(s): mentions of torture/r@pe, mentions of minor character death, a few punches, angst 📍Beta readers (and sole motivation): @yourfatherlucifer, @flurrys-creativity , @bunnliix, @adelusionforyourthoughts and occasionally @daemour 📍AN: just like a little warning, these last few chapters will be emotionally packed and quite angsty. While there is comfort, there is also the characters each reacting to what happened in their own way and it has made me cry a lil. While it is made obvious what has happened to reader in this chapter, once more no details were given just a brief description of the damage of her body. If this is something that makes you uncomfortable or you just dont feel up to sharing these emotions with these characters atm, that is perfectly fine- please take the time to read this when you feel up to it. It's not going anywhere i promise! 📍dividers and banner made by me! ageless blocks will be blocked immediately if you interact with this post

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Somehow, despite Yunho’s speedy driving, you fell asleep by the time they arrived at their shared home: a small industrial building on the south river that was repurposed as their base of operations. It was also Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s main residence.

Hongjoong had Jongho take you right to the master bathroom, which he followed. Jongho didn’t want to set you down to undress you, so with the hot water running from the multiple shower heads, they both stood fully clothed as they washed you up. Jongho was careful to keep the water from hitting your face, turning you slowly and as carefully as he could while Hongjoong was just as gentle cleaning the blood - and dried semen - off your body. 

It was an effort to remain calm, both freezing up when you made any movement to wake. How you managed to sleep through the entire shower, which was not quick by any means, only had them concerned. While it made sense you didn’t sleep during your time held hostage, it still hurt.

Stepping out of the shower they were faced with the dilemma of getting you dry despite both in their soaked clothes. A knock on their door drew their attention, Yunho freshly changed and standing in the doorway. “Hwa sent me as back up.” 

As if handing off a fragile valuable, Jongho gently handed you over to Yunho and into the towel he had. He didn’t take his eyes off you, pain burning brightly in them. Hongjoong did the best to comfort their youngest, patting his back to avert his attention. “Let’s change and then regroup with everyone. She needs her rest. Is the doctor here yet?” Yunho nodded, already leaving the bathroom. “I’ll send her in once I put Butterfly down. She said it was best to keep her naked until after she examines her. I’ll stay with her to put her in something comfortable after.” “Good. Clothes- ah thank you.” Hongjoong trailed off as Yunho pointed to two piles of clothes on the counter before leaving with you.

Once both men were dressed in clean clothes, and Hongjoong was sure there was no more blood on him, they left to join the others downstairs, passing the doctor Haru sent on the way.

Seonghwa had changed and cleaned up as well, standing behind the large sofa that both Yeosang and Mingi were sitting at, San pacing off to the side. There were no remnants of the rescue mission on any of them: no blood or dust or dirt. As if reading his mind, Seonghwa spoke up. “We didn’t want any reminders of what happened in case Angel woke up and saw us. Is she…?” “She slept through the whole shower and is now being checked out by the doctor. Yunho is going to stay and get her comfortable after.” With a deep breath, Hongjoong crossed his arms over his chest. “Let’s make this quick, I want a debrief.” “Now?” Mingi gawked, swallowing any other retort at Hongjoong’s glare. “Right. Um, Yeosang?” Yeosang glared at him for throwing him under the bus, but sighed and relented. “She never left the safe house.” He knew what they wanted to know the most, how you had gotten caught. Why you hadn’t been safe. “After Seonghwa let her go and joined you to fight off the Blood Hounds, she tried to find you both.” He swallowed hard, remembering what he had seen on the screen at the time, the pride he had felt followed by the fear. “Some had stayed behind after you both gave yourself up. You were barely in their van when she… she killed one of them, and then got caught. They had her in a different car.” “By the time Yunho and I got there, she was long gone.” Mingi added on, looking up at his leader. “Yunho thought it would be a good idea not to let the others know right off the bat, considering San was knee deep in Viper territory and Wooyoung was the middle man for some negotiations. He didn’t want to risk either of them getting too emotional.” “You didn’t tell me until the day of!” San swiveled on his heel as he snapped at him. “I could’ve been out looking for her sooner!”

“San, he has a point.”

“Don’t give me that shit Seonghwa! She was held hostage and tortured, and the fact no one told Wooyoung is-” “You haven’t either.” Yeosang chimed in nonchalantly. “He just knew about Captain and Hwa.”

San however looked away with obvious guilt on his face, broad shoulders somehow getting even more tense. “Of course I didn’t. He would’ve-” “And you would’ve too.” Hongjoong brought the attention back to himself. “Both you and Wooyoung will act first, plan after, especially if it would come to her. So if we wanted her back to us alive, Yunho made the right call.” That was the reason he was third in command. He made smart and logical decisions even in the middle of chaos. There were times both Hongjoong and Seonghwa had needed Yunho to keep them levelheaded even, especially when it came to you. “But we will have to tell him now. Once she’s a bit more rested.” “You know… it was shocking how Jongho reacted.” Mingi pointed out, drawing attention to the youngest who had been silent behind Hongjoong. “You volunteered to work on it, looking around the area the van was last spotted at well through the night.” Jongho was visibly uncomfortable at the topic, swallowing hard. In fact he was avoiding everyone’s gaze. “I thought they were going to kill her.” Silence fell over the room, a solemn tension as they each thought of how they would’ve felt if the Blood hounds had actually killed you. Would it have spared you from the torture? No, chances are they would have tortured you until you died. That just left how empty they would have felt with you gone, the guilt that would eat them alive.

They were still wrestling with those thoughts as Wooyoung strutted in up the stairs, letting out a sigh of relief. “You’re back!” He ran over with the intent of hugging them, but slowed once he got to San, noticing his body language and how the bigger man seemed to shrink away from him. “Sannie? What happened?” No one wanted to be the one to break the news, but they couldn’t hide it. Seonghwa and Hongjoong shared a look while Yeosang pulled out his tablet to look through the camera’s; he probably had one Junghoon on surveillance back at the precinct so he could be here for you. Mingi very obviously avoided looking at Wooyoung, even Jongho couldn’t hide the guilt on his features. Wooyoung looked at each of them, expression hardening as he realized quickly they were keeping something from him. Before he could question however, the door to the closed off loft, Seonghwa and Hongjoong’s area, opened and down the steps the doctor descended. Wooyoung’s eyes narrowed, recognizing the woman. “Dr. Handong?”

The woman adjusted her glasses as she stepped forward, adjusting the bag over her shoulder. “I finished my examination, it’s just like you had said. Most of the cuts done were pretty shallow, but there were some older ones that were pretty deep. My best guess is due to struggling.” She had ignored most of the men and spoke directly to Hongjoong and Seonghwa. “No broken bones that I could make out, though her ankles and wrists are swollen from the binds she had been in. I left some painkillers and instructions for her care with the one upstairs and I can send over a female nurse to oversee her care for about a week?”

“Can someone explain to me what’s going on? She’s not talking about our Goddess is she? Why would she be all banged up?” Wooyoung’s voice rose an octave as he barked out questions, a tremble that grew with each word. “Wooyoung…” San reached out for him, but the man dodged him and stepped more in the room. “I think you know why.” Hongjoong moved to block Handong from Wooyoung’s view, needing this taken care of first. “Is there a reason a female nurse needs to be present? We can take care of her can’t we?” “No offense, but from my experience women don’t tend to lean on men after one has assaulted her in this way for days. She’s torn up pretty bad there, and it’s going to hurt and be uncomfortable for her to use the restroom, maybe even sit. It’s likely she’ll prefer female company, and a nurse would be able to make sure she is properly cleaned so no wounds get infected.” Handong replied coolly, unaffected by the reactions of the men. “You can leave the decision up to her, call me should she request one. My lady also extended the offer to have her recoup with us.”

“She’s not going anywhere!” Wooyoung’s shout startled Hongjoong enough to glance back, not at all surprised to see the fury and pain on his features. “Her home is with us and we’ll take care of her. My mom knows that.” He hissed out, pulling his arm from San’s grip and marching past the others. 

Mingi stood up to try and stop him, but Wooyoung was nothing if not quick. Jongho however grabbed him, yanking him back from the stairs. “Will you stop, she’s sleeping.” “Oh now you give a damn about her? After all the shit you said, you care how she is?” Wooyoung snapped out, struggling against his grip. “Let me go! You all did a fine job taking care of her after all.” “Wooyoung that’s not the case and you know it.” Hongjoong followed him in an attempt to help Jongho pull him away. Seonghwa had swept in and was seeing Handong out, the others rushing in to also keep Wooyoung from disturbing you. But he could be a force to be reckoned with, especially when it came to you recently. He climbed over Jongho and onto the stairs, both of them scrambling and beginning to fight. Somehow Wooyoung was on top, connecting a fist to Jongho’s jaw and giving up on passing him. Instead, he released his anger out on him. “Stop keeping me from her!” “Woo!” San reached for him again, just to be elbowed back. The stairs were too narrow for them all to intervene. “Shut up San! It’s his fault! If he hadn’t been so dead set on keeping her out just because of his hurt pride she wouldn’t have been there! We could have kept her safe better!” He brought his fist down again, Jongho catching it and rolling them over and held him down. “Will you shut up! She’s sleeping!” Jongho hissed out, pinning his arms above his head but that didn’t stop Wooyoung from squirming under him. “Like you give a damn with your ‘I hate all women now that I was two timed by one’ mentality! Seriously get over yourself! You’re just fucking pissed your ego got hurt.” He spat out, earning a punch from Jongho that had his head hitting the concrete stairs. “You don’t have room to talk, throwing a fit she didn’t fuck you first.”

Suddenly Jongho was yanked off, surprisingly by Hongjoong, and pushed back into the others that held him still. “You two, enough. We can bitch about who’s fault it is all day but that does nothing to help her right now. It happened, she’s hurt, right now she needs-” “Don’t tell me what she needs, Captain.” Wooyoung hissed out as he sat up, glaring at Jongho intently. “San and I both told you all how well she fits. How perfect she is for us. But you didn’t want to believe it, insisting she was going to play us just like that bitch did you. She’s dead now, would it take her dying in your arms to get through your thick skull that she’s not like that?! Is that-” “No!” Jongho’s broken cry interrupted him, shoulders falling as he vehemently shook his head. “She might as well have when I caught her today. I knew she would get hurt if she got wrapped up with us and she did! I was-” “Right? Are you happy you are?” Wooyoung wiped the blood from his lips with the back of his hand, staring him down. “It was going to end up this one way or another. Either we killed her off or she ended up as one of us. Captain said so, Jongho! But you kept fighting! Every time we made a vote you insisted no, and this was an all or nothing decision!” Jongho winced at his words, looking away and fists clenched at his sides. “I know… I-” Yeosang stepped up to him, taking his hands in his for silent comfort. Just as he did, San made his way over to Wooyoung, hesitating to see if the man would even let him approach.

Wooyoung did, reaching out for him. “Am I wrong Sannie?”

Instead of answering, the man pulled Wooyoung onto his lap and held him. “Let’s not fight. Please? She needs us right now and… I need her to be okay.” He buried his head in the crook of Wooyoung’s neck, breathing him in as he held on tight. Wooyoung softened significantly, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and holding him closer. “Oh baby, you’re right. I’m sorry… I can’t imagine how this feels for you.” Now that it seemed Wooyoung was calming down, focusing more on finding comfort and giving comfort with San, Hongjoong let out a long sigh. He moved to offer comfort as well, just to wobble and lean against the railing. “Shit…” They had been so concerned with you that Hongjoong had forgotten that he too had suffered torture, even if it was no where near as extensive as yours. It had been days since he ate or drank anything after all, and then somehow finding the strength to pull Jongho off Wooyoung? He was starting to crash from the adrenaline, now in the safety of his home, all of his lovers safe and secure.

Mingi was the one to catch and support Hongjoong when his legs gave out, having been silent the whole time. The man had his thoughts on the situation, but no one was in a condition to listen. “Should we get takeout?”

The simple question had a few of them laughing, food on no one’s mind but definitely on their stomachs with the few growls that resounded. 

“No need, I’ll cook.” Wooyoung lifted his head, voice strained from the silent tears he was finally letting slip. “I don’t plan on going anywhere any time soon, Sannie and I can take care of our baby girl upstairs.” “That’ll be good.” Seonghwa called out from across the room, finally rejoining them. “Joong and I will eat and then rest down here. We all can take turns sitting upstairs with her in case she wakes up. We don’t want her to be alone.” Hongjoong nodded, leaning into Mingi and thankful for the support. “We’ll need some of you to be out on the field, but we can rely on Minjae and the others to oversee the Pirates main functions for now. Wooyoung can do a lot of work from here as can Yeosang so…” “I’ll have Yechan bring me some things from my place at the precinct, I don’t want to leave.” Yeosang chimed in, his entire focus still on Jongho. “You want to stay too, right?”

Slowly he nodded his head, leaning into Yeosang. “My jaw hurts.” Yeosang cracked a smile while Wooyoung laughed. “Good! My strength training is paying off. Soon I’ll have San sized muscles!” “Oh please, like we need more muscle.” Yeosang teased, taking Jongho over to the couch. Mingi also took that as a sign to start helping Hongjoong over to one of the couches around the large open spaced area. After setting him down, he helped Seonghwa. Wooyoung and San had gotten up and made their way to the open kitchen with the intention of feeding and taking care of the others. San started grabbing drinks while Wooyoung put all of his energy into cooking. Were any of them really okay? No. Silence fell over them as they busied themselves with whatever task, but every single one of them constantly glanced over at the windows of the loft, the black curtains hiding the room and any sound inside. They fretted over when you would wake up, over what your reaction would be, and so forth.

Wooyoung made a small feast and had it laid out on the coffee table so Hongjoong and Seonghwa could eat easily, the others also digging in with uncharacteristic silence. No flirting from Wooyoung or fight stories from San. No old man jokes from Jongho or mom and dad moments from their Captain and Vice. No teasing Mingi, or shenanigans that usually surrounded them when they ate together in this place.

Nothing but a heavy weight on their shoulders that didn’t feel any better with each bite. Wooyoung finally convinced Hongjoong to let him take food up to Yunho and for you, the man rushed up the stairs with a tray after he fretted over making it pretty for several moments. Stepping into the room he held the tray tightly so as not to drop it, but his heart felt like it fell through the floor. Yunho was on the bed with you on his lap, sobbing as he rocked back and forth gently. He looked up when Wooyoung entered, making a motion to keep quiet, but it drew your attention.

You lifted your head just as Wooyoung set the tray down nearby. Seeing the tears run down your swollen and red eyes hurt, but not as much as when you dislodged yourself from Yunho and lifted your arms up to Wooyoung.

The man burst into tears, easily sweeping you into his arms as he sat on the bed next to you. “It’s okay baby girl, you’re safe now. We aren’t going to let anything like that happen again.” You sniffled and sobbed, burying your head into the crook of his neck. “Wooyoung- don’t leave me.” The broken tone just tore at his heart even more and he sobbed silently into your hair that smelled of Seonghwa’s shampoo and conditioner. “Course not Goddess, how could I leave you? Never again you hear? I love you too much for that.” His own voice trembled with the confession, hands rubbing up and down your back, recognizing one of Mingi’s shirts that he kept here. They all had some clothes kept here and it was a joy to see you in them, to have you smelling like them and holding onto him like this. He just hated how it came about. 

His confession seemed to relax you, the soft touch of your dried lips on his neck sending a shiver down his spine as you breathed him in. “I love you too.” Just as his words had eased your mind, your confession eased his. He moved to lay you down under the blankets, continuing to hold you close and comfort you as best he could. 

Taglist- in reblogs!!

AN about the Taglists: So to make sure that when Case: It's Us has a taglist of readers I know are reading and interacting, I will be redoing the taglist for Case: It's Us. To apply for it, I'll have special instructions on the last chapter of Case: It's You to do so. SO if you are part of the Case: It's You taglist, keep in mind it won't be carried over unless you follow the instructions I give. And considering that Case: It's Us won't be posted until late Janruary-Early March (the exact date isnt decided yet, i have a busy end of the year so i do not want to make promises), it will be best to be put on that Taglist so you know when it's available. If you have ao3, I recommend following CIY on there, in which I will make an announcement on CIY when CIU is up on ao3 and you can subscribe to it for notifications that way. I post the ao3 and the Tumblr versions usually the same day or back to back days (its easier to post on ao3 as opposed to here where i need the warnings and tags for each chapter. Thank you for loving and following along to Case: It's You! Hard to believe two more chapters after this! If you've read the note, I would appreciate in the comments or in your reblog which of all characters of CIY are your favorite! As well as which one you would like to see more of! (yes I know Jongho please don't hate me) With Love~ Doom

[seungcheollies-cake]

𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐩 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥

nonidol!yoon jeonghan x gn!reader

2.3k words, fluff, comfort, reader is sick, technically a college au, light swearing, mentions of food, mentions of cold medication, tbh i know i advocate for platonic fics but i am also just a girl. so he does pine a little lol, slice-of-life-ish, barely proofread

a/n: there is like no plot, i just am feeling ooey-gooey about svt rn heh :') been watching so much gose recently and it's healing my soul

Yoon Jeonghan was many things, but oblivious was not one of them. “Oh my god, you're sick,” were his first words to you when you opened your apartment door. His voice was droning, perfectly unimpressed, but it masked the concern attempting to skirt its way to the surface. 

“It's not that” —your sorry attempt at denial crumbled like a house of cards as you turned away to cough into your elbow. The taste of metal lingered in the back of your throat and you winced, reaching into your bag to grab your water bottle. After swallowing down a generous helping, you said to him without looking him in the eye, “I'm fine.”

Jeonghan blinked. “That's really cute,” he replied with a thin smile. “Back inside.”

“But Jeonghan—”

“No.” He grabbed you firmly by your shoulders and steered you back into your apartment, his body waddling in behind you because of your balking in the doorway. He kicked the front door shut, shucking his shoes off with uncanny accuracy into an empty space on the shoe rack. “Shoes off, Yn-ah. Don't start an argument you won't win.”

You grumbled under your breath, but did as you were told. All the while, Jeonghan smoothed a hand over his jaw, performing mental gymnastics. How did you get sick? How much time did he have before he needed to get to campus? Could he reasonably make you soup before he needed to leave for his exam?

The first question was easy to answer. He internally smacked himself—last night: your runny nose, the vitamin C powder you added to your water, your shivers on the walk home from the library. Oh, fuck. He should have driven. Why did he make you both walk in that cold?

Guilt coursed through him as he directed you back into your bedroom. 

It was a quarter to 8, meaning he didn't have time to make you ramen and make it to his exam before the doors closed. 

“I have so much shit to do today” —another horrid cough rattled through you, and Jeonghan frowned to himself as he snatched the extra blanket out of your closet— “I can't… Hannie, there's so much I need to—”

“I know, Yn-ah,” he said softly, eyes sad and tender as he bundled you up in three layers until you were likely unable to unwrap yourself. He perched by your side, his palm grazing over your forehead to take your temperature. Hot. Not good. “But if you don't take care of yourself now, it'll only get worse.”

He glanced at his phone. Five to 8—he still had fifteen minutes. It was a blessing that you lived closer to campus than he did. 

“I hate when you're right,” you muttered. The lower half of your face was tucked beneath the edges of your blankets, so all he saw were your tired, glaring eyes. 

He smirked to himself, a fuzziness warming his chest. So petulant. “You always do,” he mused. “What did you have to do today? I'll try and help out as best I can.”

Your glare softened at the corners and your eyes flitted away from him. “It's okay. I'll deal with it all when I wake up. I—wait.” Your eyes shot wide open. “You have that exam today! You have to leave—what time is it?”

“Yah, I'll make it,” he laughed. “Worry about yourself.”

“You literally said last night that you were worried about failing—”

“And now I'm worried about you,” he countered. Satisfaction brought an impish twinkle to his eyes as you scowled at him again. “But fine, I'll leave if you insist.”

He rose from the edge of the bed, picking his backpack up to sling over his shoulder. 

“Thank you.”

With his back toward you, he could allow himself to grin. “What was that?” he called back innocently. 

“Don't fail.”

He huffed out another laugh as he reached the threshold of your bedroom doorway. Jeonghan wondered briefly if he should coax that thank you out of your mouth again, but he really did need to leave. It was awful. Everything in him was ready to throw away this exam to stay here with you. “Go to sleep, honey. I'll see you when you wake up.”

Three hours later, Jeonghan shouldered his way into your apartment, his backpack on his shoulders, his mind far away from that disgusting exam he finished, and his hands occupied with a grocery bag of items he picked up on his way here. When he left earlier, he had swiped your keys on the way out so he could let himself back in without waking you up. He dumped those very keys onto the table by the door, the gazillion key chains attached to the one carabiner clattering inelegantly loud. 

He glanced over at your closed door, hoping he didn't just wake you up. 

With a little less noise, he abandoned his backpack by the couch and made his way over to the kitchen. While he had made it in time to his exam, it had taken more willpower to center his attention on the exam itself rather than letting his mind wander to all the things he wanted to do after he was done. The to-do list spanned about five items: buy cold medicine and orange juice, decide on what food to make you, buy the ingredients for that food, persuade your TA to let him pick up your graded essay (that one, he saw on a sticky note by your desk), and come back to take care of you. 

(If the TA grading his exam took note of the small list he'd jotted down in the top corner of page five, no they didn't.)

There had been several ideas of what he could make you once he was free. He had stared at the row of vegetables in the produce department for a good ten minutes before he decided on something less usual. He could make instant ramen, but that didn't seem like the healthiest option for him to feed you. There was also seaweed soup—did he have the time to go to another store to find what he needed? No. 

His next great idea was something simple, but delicious: chicken noodle soup. 

Jeonghan rummaged around your cabinets, locating the things he needed—cutting board, knife—he opened a door and sighed to himself. So you did have pasta already. Great. 

He examined the box of dried elbow macaroni and compared it to the bowtie pasta he'd picked out. “Mine’s better,” he muttered, shelving your macaroni and bumping the cabinet closed. 

In the largest pot he could find, he brewed up a hearty chicken soup, using the bones from the rotisserie chicken he bought to add more richness to the broth's flavoring. Every carrot, onion, and celery stalk he sliced, and every piece of chicken he shredded, was done deftly and with great care. This was for you, after all, and if this soup could help you get better, then he would make it the best damn thing you'd ever tasted. 

There were plenty of things Jeonghan didn't want to do or weaseled his way out of, but he could be running on one hour of sleep, and he would still haul his ass up to make kimchi from scratch if you asked him to. 

He was stationed behind the stove, tasting the soup for adjustments, when he heard your bedroom door open. 

Jeonghan peered over his shoulder and smiled at the bundle of blankets waddling your way out into the main room, your hair sticking up in odd places, and your eyes still at half mast. “Good morning, sleepy head. How're you feeling?”

“Meh,” you said hoarsely, clearing your throat. You squinted at the sunlight streaming in through the open curtains. “What're you making? It smells nice.”

“Hm? Oh, I made you some soup. Go take the medicine on the counter and sit down; I'll bring you a bowl.”

As he reached over to grab another pinch of salt, he heard you tearing open the box of cold medicine behind him. 

A moment passed by of quiet, but his heart leapt straight into his throat as he felt a soft weight rest against his back. “Thank you, Hannie,” you murmured, forehead pressed between his shoulders. 

There were about a dozen things running through his mind at the moment—things he could say, things he could do. He was an ounce of willpower away from melting on the spot, but the heat rising from the soup pot kept him upright. “Aish… thank me by getting better, okay?”

You hummed in acknowledgment and lifted yourself off his back. When you hobbled away to sit down at the table, Jeonghan couldn't brush away the feeling that the spot your head had rested was now cold. 

“How was the” —cough— “the exam?” 

Jeonghan glanced over at you as he carefully ladled soup into two bowls. He hummed, “Could've been better, but can't really do anything about it now.”

“I'm sure you did good,” you replied, holding out your hands like a kid waiting for their turn to get candy from a jar as Jeonghan made his way over to you with the soup. “You always say you did bad when you actually scored in the top ten percent.”

“Careful, honey, it's hot.” Jeonghan continued to hold the bowl even as you cupped it in your hands, until it safely reached the table. Only then did he seat himself down adjacent to you. “Yeah, well, you always said I should be more humble,” he joked.

You picked up your spoon and gestured at him with it. “Humility and lying are different things,” you said pointedly. “Anyways, thank you. This looks really yummy.”

“I don't lie,” he drawled with a twinkle in his eye. He leaned his cheek against his fist and watched as you took a spoonful and gently blew on the hot liquid. The delight that lit up your face was enough to make him happy for a century. He inclined his chin. “Good?”

“Very good. Sometimes I forget that you're good at cooking, too.”

“Not like Mingyu though,” he chuckled and brought a spoonful up to his lips. 

You shot him a look. “You don't always have to compare yourself, Hannie-ah. I'm not talking about Mingyu right now.”

Maybe I just want to make sure, he thought, then brushed it under that large, metaphorical rug in his mind. Jeonghan gave a half-hearted shrug. 

Your mouth flattened into a displeased line. His grin widened. 

When the both of you finished as many helpings as you had the appetite for, Jeonghan graciously offered to wash the dishes. He practically anchored you to the couch by wrapping you in yet another blanket—it was a double-edged sword; you were quite cute like that and he had half the mind to ditch the dishes. Once done with his task, he plucked out a dose of cold medication to take for himself, as well. 

You eyed him from the couch as he swallowed the pills with a glass of orange juice. “Did I get you sick already?” you asked, your voice having become more nasally from your stuffy nose. 

“Not yet,” he said, “it's just preventative measures since I'm gonna be hanging around you.”

“You're not leaving?” 

Your words were one thing, but the way you peered over the back of the couch at him and the upward intonation in your voice told him something else. He smiled to himself as he walked over to the couch with his juice. “No, I was going to help you finish your work for the day, but if you want me to leave, I—”

“Only if you're not afraid of getting sick,” you said quickly. 

He sighed with an air of melodrama. “I suppose I can stay after all.” He brought out his laptop and the essay he finagled from your TA, vaguely mentioning something about his careful white lies in order to accomplish his mission. It was truly something only Jeonghan could pull off and get away with. 

The first item on your to-do list was to send out a couple emails. 

Jeonghan felt the weight of your head fall onto his shoulder, and he glanced down at you in amusement. “You're not falling asleep on me, are you?” he teased, his fingers paused from the email he was typing out while you dictated the wording. 

You shifted your head. “No, I'm still awake. Do you think this sounds too bubbly?”

“It’s not too bubbly,” he said, cocking his head to the side. “But the thing is you're not this agreeable in real life—aish! Haha, hey! Don't hit me!”

He could imagine your cute, little scowl. “I am incredibly agreeable.”

“Yes, yes.” Jeonghan lightly pat your head. “You're very lovely, Yn-ah.”

You chose to ignore the impish tone in his voice. It was what he wanted you to do anyway—believe that he thought you were lovely.  

It was difficult to parse out how much time passed, but at some point, the TV was turned on to a random channel playing some 90s sitcom, and his laptop was ditched on the coffee table. Jeonghan's legs ended up sprawled across the length of the couch while your layers of blankets covered both of you. Your head rested comfortably on his chest as he continued to watch TV in silent contentment.

Jeonghan was a lot of things, but he certainly wasn't oblivious to the fact that you took the wrong cold medicine. The box he bought had both daytime and nighttime meds, the latter of which contained melatonin to aid with uninterrupted sleep. He didn't say anything earlier when he realized, but it wasn't like he could say anything now. 

He glanced down at your face, his hand cupping the back of your head with too much tenderness for friendship. You were asleep; there was nothing he could do, no jokes to make or fun to poke. 

Him, his thoughts, and you. 

But this was fine. He was happy and warm like the perfect bowl of soup filling an empty stomach, and he had no intention of leaving until he knew that you were better. As his eyes slowly drooped closed, he sank further into the blankets and your hold, soul nourished.

a/n: pls remember to reblog + comment if you enjoyed <3

svt m.list

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @luumiinaa @lotties-readings @tinkerbell460 @meosjinnn @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @floatingpluto @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @eunseok-s @bless-311 @leaz-kpop-life @fluorescentloves @thesunsfullmoon @haechansbbg @kpopjackie @jundundun @http-gyu @mars101 @moonyswolf @honeyrecommends @synthwxve @thecarnivaloflies @p-d1ddy @thatonedemigodfromseoul @foivetimesthecharm

[seungcheollies-cake]

CIY CH 27

Chapter Twenty-Seven

📍Pairing: detective ateez ot8 x detective afab reader 📍Summary: "Breaking Point" 📍WC: 3.3k 📍AU: detective/mafia 📍Genre: action, dark romance, poly romance 📍Beta readers (and sole motivation): @yourfatherlucifer, @flurrys-creativity , @bunnliix, @adelusionforyourthoughts and occasionally @daemour 📍dividers by @cafekitsune banner made by me! ageless blocks will be blocked immediately if you interact with this post 📍AN: I HIGHLY recommend skipping this chapter if any of the following warnings below the cut are triggering or you are just not in a good headspace to read about a traumatizing event that befalls reader. It is not described in detail, but is described as having happened off screen. The trauma is not caused by any of the main cast, or idol representing character (i in fact refused to give him a name) masterlist | Previous | Next

📍Warning(s): extremely dark and triggering themes such as: mentions of r@pe, torture, graphic depiction of murder of minor character. Graphic details such as blood, stabbing, and talk of explosives. Kidnapping, held hostage, a somewhat cliche mafia scene with dark twists because trauma.

The bright lights woke the two men from their awkward slumber, Hongjoong being the first to lift his head despite a swollen eye. For three days of torture, the two of them were still pretty much in tact. It left Hongjoong feeling a bit… disappointed.

This was the feared Blood Hounds? The red chains around their necks were a give away, and with five of them it shouldn’t be too hard to cause some damage. So why were they mostly just bruises and busted skin from punches? The brass knuckles hurt something fierce, but aside from a dislocated shoulder all his bones were intact. He assumed it was the same for Seonghwa.

Twenty-four hour observation, no food or water but sleep was provided surprisingly. Probably to keep them coherent enough for the questioning.

And that was just as dull. Despite hunting them down, they knew so little. Didn’t even notice their connection to the law, or their full place in the Black Pirates. That was probably due to the Red Wolf that did the questioning. The man sat behind the lights, late thirties, early forties, and had his jacket open to expose his bare chest and the red wolf on his side. He even flaunted it often, making Hongjoong assume this man’s ego was bigger than the abandoned building they were in.

That was fine by him, it made it easier to play the game. “Let’s start from the beginning shall we? The black pirates are responsible for the hit on our territory a few weeks ago, correct?” The way the man emphasized ‘our’ just showed his pride over this situation. If Hongjoong had to guess, he was given this interrogation role as a test, most likely an ass kisser that worked his way up the ranks. A true coward under it all.

It made it hard not to mock him. “Not sure what you mean, please elaborate.” He licked some of the blood off his lip, tilting his head back and knocking it against Seonghwa to wake him up a bit more. The bright lights around them were annoying, but only really kept them awake now that they were. The man stood up and began to circle them, a little ticked off it seems with how harshly he glared. Hongjoong just yawned, seeming unaffected. Bored even. Because he was.

That just pissed off the wolf even more, throwing one of the lights to the ground in a rage as it broke and sparked out. “Three days we’ve been at this! How much longer are you going to keep playing this game?!” He shouted out, stomping over to Seonghwa and out of Hongjoong’s sight and gripping his hair.

Seonghwa spit in the man’s face. “As long as we want. Really, do you think you’re terrifying?” While he had a lot of bravado in his tone, Hongjoong could sense the underlying fear there. He knew his partner.

It had been three days and they weren’t sure if they had been out longer than a day. They had gone through scenarios like this dozens of times in case they were captured. Wooyoung could use his connection to the Pink Boas and as a freelancer to get out of his ties to the Pirates, something his mother had said she would always help with, but if it was any other member but Yeosang they had a plan.

Three days. That was the minimum needed for rescue. It gave Yeosang plenty of time to track their whereabouts, and the others to mobilize an extraction. It would have begun the moment there was an attack on the safe house. But Hongjoong knew it wasn’t for them that his partner was scared for, but he was sick with worry over you. Had you made it out? Did you go to Yeosang or did you run? What if you fought? Even Hongjoong couldn’t deny that was an option, knowing how feisty you could be. You weren’t the type to run anyways, but for once Hongjoong wished you were.

Sure their torture was pretty minimal but for you? A random woman in a Pirate safe house? Oh they wouldn’t attempt to question you, he knew that. He tried not to think about it though, tried not to let the unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach bother him. The implications that they were going easy on the torture on purpose and that it might have something to do with you. The real torture was not knowing if you were safe. The hits, starvation and dehydration were nothing. The soreness of his muscles he thought would be a nice excuse to beg you for a massage. Still, none of that compared to how he was sure Seonghwa felt.

He had watched over you since day one, first like a protective mother to see what damage you would do to his nest, then you were part of it. They wanted to make it official, maybe have you spend a few nights in their bed after all this was over.

So he knew Seonghwa didn’t care about the punch the man threw, jolting to the side as it connected with his jaw. He spit out blood onto the concrete just in Hongjoong’s view, but he kept his face stone cold. He never liked when Hwa’s pretty face got hurt.

The smug look on the man’s face was just as disgusting. “Then maybe a little bit more?” He nodded to two of the men and they left the room. There was a door opening somewhere, loud bass heavy music filtering out that hummed through the concrete under their feet. “Of what? Boredom?” Hongjoong through out with a bout of dry laughter. “I’ve had more intense fucks than this. Not even a whip or paddle or a knife? Booooring.” “Don’t give him any ideas, love, he’s already struggling with his creativity.” Seonghwa added on, finally lifting his head. “I think he might make it in a kindergarten painting class now.” 

In retaliation he grabbed Hwa by the hair again, yanking him up. Hongjoong was proud of the sinful moan Seonghwa let out, resulting in their ‘interrogator’ dropping his head and stepping back with a groan of disgust. “Seriously? Are you two getting off on this?” “Hardly. It’s not rough enough.” Seonghwa hummed out, licking his lips as he turned as if to look at Hongjoong. “You do it so much better baby.” “Ugh, gross.” 

Hongjoong had took a risk that the red wolves wouldn’t use them against each other sexually, too homophobic to do any touching or raping of sorts. He was glad that the risk was paying off.

Off in the distance they could hear the door and music again, and that feeling of dread returned. 

The wolf smirked, motioning to one of the men and pointing to the lights. Hongjoong watched with a frown as the hound turned two of their lights to the door, shining on the dark hallway just outside. A spotlight for a show.

“What? Got some fancy torture machine you’re going to bring out? Really, it’s like you want to get us off.” Despite that growing pit in his stomach, Hongjoong forced the taunt out. He wanted to wipe that disgusting smug smirk off his face the second the spotlight illuminated up the three people in the doorway.

Seonghwa’s pained gasp hurt as much as the sight of you. “Angel?” Hongjoong steeled his expression, taking in the sight of you to fuel the growing rage and bloodthirst that was building. Every cute, every drop of blood, every bruise, he would pay them back tenfold. None of that mattered compared to the mental damage they no doubt did on you, as you hadn’t even reacted to Seonghwa calling out for you. Body limp as you were dragged further into “Not so cocky now?” The wolf hummed out, making his way over to you and with each step Seonghwa and he began to thrash in their chains. “Oh you really don’t want me near her? Where do you think I am when I’m not here with you?” He slid up behind you, hand running over your exposed stomach and down. 

The way you tensed and began to shake wasn’t lost on the two men, both unable to look away from the one part of your naked body they had tried so hard to ignore. When the disgusting man cupped your bloody privates, Hongjoong let out a yell, thrashing even more against the chains. They had been loosening them slowly, but now it hadn’t been fast enough.

Not when the blindfold was removed from your eyes and the dead look in them brought tears burning behind their eyelids. Not when you wouldn’t look at them, you didn’t even seem mentally there.

“Can’t say her pussy was so good that I’d fight like this for it. Maybe her mouth if she hadn’t tried to bite off my dick. Ass far too tight…” He grabbed your mouth as he talked, smearing some of the dried blood from your lips and then thrust his hips against your back. Hongjoong knew he was taunting, just rubbing in the damage he had done to you, and it was working.

Seonghwa tried calling out for you again, desperation and pain in his tone that twisted Hongjoong’s heart further. Once more you didn’t react. “You son of a bitch let her go.” He threatened lowly, throttling hard enough the studs that kept the chair in place were beginning to break. For the briefest moments they froze, the brandishing of the knife against your throat giving them pause. You didn’t even flinch, but you trembled. The fear radiating off of you was palpable. What the fuck had he done to get you like this?

Only the beating of their hearts told them time was still passing, even their breath halted, the smug look on the wolf’s face growing by the second. He opened his mouth to taunt, but all hell broke loose before he got a word out.

The next few moments rushed by quickly, all starting with Seonghwa finally picking the chain and the metal falling loosely around them. Either because he finally got it loose, or because of who they saw just in the shadows of the bright doorway. Before the wolf had time to react, the knife was pulled out of his hand and tossed to Hongjoong who caught it easily, just as a gun was thrown to Seonghwa, thanks to Jongho rushing into the room and dislodging you from the man.

Finally, just in time, the others were here. That bit of relief had the other two men moving with confidence, fueled by their rage of what was done to you.

You fell limply against Jongho’s chest as he kicked the man right into one of the spotlights. He tripped over it, both crashing to the ground, which Hongjoong took as his opportunity to pounce on the man.

He spared no mercy as he first slit the man’s throat, just a bit shallow so he would suffer, then jabbed the knife into him over and over before he could bleed out. He kept eye contact, wanting his fury known. Even long after the body was limp beneath him he kept going, Seonghwa having effectively eliminated the blood hounds with a precise bullet to each of their skulls, leaving no enemy alive.

Only his rage. One stab for each mark on you. Each bruise. Each cut. For the number of times this disgusting being had probably violated you. For the dead look in your eyes, the way you trembled.

It was all Hongjoong could do, screaming at the dead man as if it could somehow take away the pain he inflicted on you. Seonghwa had to walk over and peel Hongjoong off of the dead body, grabbing his wrist to get him to drop the knife. They shared a look, Seonghwa shaking his head and then nudging his chin in your direction. He followed, tensing up at the sight of you huddled against Jongho’s chest, holding onto his shirt with such a death grip. 

Hongjoong knew you both still didn’t trust or like each other, so it shocked him out of his rage, the pain boiling to the surface once more. Jongho was leaning against the wall, holding you to him with both arms around your back. You were laying your cheek against his shoulder, breathing heavily and uneven but seemingly dazed. Tears had started falling down your cheeks, and Jongho looked as pained as Hongjoong was feeling. “We need to get her out of here Joongie.” Seonghwa gently prompted, rubbing his lover’s back. Despite how distraught he had been moments ago, Seonghwa sounded much more clear headed now. It helped ground Hongjoong, dropping the knife. “Where… where are the others?” Hongjoong managed to get out, still panting from the excursion of, well, murdering someone brutally. Jongho didn’t even look up from you, gaze glued to your face, following each tear that fell down your cheek. “Yunho is out front with the van, Mingi is setting up the explosives on the ground floor, San and I split up and he checked the floor below us-” He stopped as he heard music, the base vibrating through the concrete, and then it stopped. “That music was louder on the first floor, we took out the guards there when it was vibrating the place…” He trailed off when they heard screams. San’s screams.

They were screams of anguish. The three of them shared a silent look of understanding before glancing at you. He must have found the room you were kept in, aware the building was currently clear of enemies if he had entered the room to begin with. Hongjoong looked at Seonghwa with a pleading look. “He’ll need you, I won’t be calm enough.” “And I would be?” He hissed out, motioning to you just to have you flinch. It was both a good and bad sign. Good that you were still, to some extent aware of your surroundings… but that meant you were probably aware of what they just did. “Angel…” He sighed, relenting as he pocketed the gun and moved around slowly so as not to spook you. “Get her to the car, and then let's blow this place up.”

Seonghwa left then, hurrying down the hall and leaving behind silence. Hongjoong was afraid to reach for you at first, freezing up when his bloody hand got close. You stared at the blood there, seemingly more present, then looked up at him. He gave the softest most gentle smile he could muster at the moment. “Hey firecracker. You're safe now.”

Your gaze shifted to the dead body behind him, then back to him questionly. “Yes, I killed him. He hurt you, he didn't deserve to live another second. Now… do you want to go home with us? We can clean you up and feed you. Does that sound nice?”

The both of them waited for some answer from you, and it came in the form of wrapping your arms around Jongho's neck. The man held on tighter, looking up at his leader for answers on what to do. 

Hongjoong motioned at the door. “Carry her out, she's probably in a lot of pain so be gentle. You have Yeosang on the line?” He pointed to his ear where the piece was. At Jongho's nod while he slowly picked you up, Hongjoong grabbed it and stuck It in his ear. 

“How bad is it?” Yeosang immediately spoke into the piece and Hongjoong could hear a nervous clicking on the other side. “When I saw them grab her the other day I tried to get Yunho there I-”

“Yeosang. This isn't your fault.” Hongjoong chided  as he followed Jongho out of the room, keeping an eye out but he knew Seonghwa would have dealt with any strangers on his way. “She's alive, but I need you to warn the others. Where is Wooyoung?”

“He's with Minjae at the base. He was going to bring them in as backup if needed. He won't… he won't handle it Captain.”

“I know. So you're going to tell him to check the other locations and safe houses we have with Minjae and the others and that I want a full report tonight. We need to…” his gaze flickered back to you, still trembling in Jongho's arms and hiding your face against his shoulder. Jongho himself looked as pained as Hongjoong felt, but he was whispering gentle words to you so low that not even Hongjoong could make them out. “We're going to give her time to rest before Wooyoung sees her.”

“Understood? What else?” There was a firmness to Yeosang's tone that took Hongjoong by surprise, but he pushed on.

“Just warn Mingi and Yunho not to panic. Hwa is with San. If Yunho has a blanket or something to cover her, he needs to have it ready. Contact Wooyoung’s mother for a female doctor, Firecracker might trust-”

Hongjoong broke off when he heard someone else on the connection. Seonghwa. “Joong… there are pictures of what he did to her. The bed is soaked in blood and the chains…”

“What the fuck do you mean?” Mingi's voice suddenly cut in, broadcasting on all channels. “What the fuck did they do to our Princess?!”

“Easy Mingi. She needs us calm right now okay? Get this building ready to blow.” Hongjoong attempted to pacify him as the ascended the stairs. The skipped the floor below, hitting the ground floor and headed for the entrance. Mingi met them first and Hongjoong quickly moved to get in the way.

He hated the way his eyes went big and glassy, the color draining from his face as he stared at you. When Mingi tried to reach out though, Jongho stepped back, shaking his head. “She just stopped shaking. Don't. No more surprises for her.”

Hongjoong was shocked by the defensiveness of Jongho’s tone, so was Mingi, both staring at him like the many just grew a second head.

Jongho dipped his head and just rushed off for the door, past the two dead guards there. So Mingi turned to Hongjoong, finally taking in the blood that covered him before asking. “Tell me that belongs to the one who hurt her.”

“It does.” It was Seonghwa that answered, holding an angry San by the back of the neck as they descended the stairs. “He's nothing more than a mutilated corpse. We started a fire in the room she was held in, but let's burn this whole place to the ground.”

“Is she…” San prompted, blood sneered on his cheek and a crumbled picture in his hand. “She’s alive right?” He refused to look at either of them, his shoulders and voice trembling.

Hongjoong knew that this was hardest for San no doubt, with his experience and his past with you. Softly Hongjoong patted his broad shoulders. “She needs us to be strong, okay? Would our firecracker want us looking at her like she's broken goods?”

“No.” The three others, and Yeosang, all chimed in.

“Then let's go. It's about time we take her home.” He guided them outside to the waiting van, the door was open and Jongho was sitting on the floor, his back against the driver seat a very pissed off Yunho sat in. The man was gripping the steering wheel hard enough the veins on his hands were sticking out.

Hongjoong forced Mingi up front, climbing in the back with Seonghwa who was already covering you up with the blankets since Jongho refused to let you go. Er, well, you were now holding onto his arm so Hongjoong could only assume you didn't let him.

That just hurt more.

No more than a few seconds of pulling away from the building did a series of explosions go off, the building crumbling to rabble but for Hongjoong that wasn't enough. He couldn't take away what had happened to you, just the place it did. Nor could he undo the fact it happened to you… because of him. Of them and where they had you.

Only silence accompanied the somber tension in the van.

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[seungcheollies-cake]

CIY CH 27

Chapter Twenty-Seven

📍Pairing: detective ateez ot8 x detective afab reader 📍Summary: "Breaking Point" 📍WC: 3.3k 📍AU: detective/mafia 📍Genre: action, dark romance, poly romance 📍Beta readers (and sole motivation): @yourfatherlucifer, @flurrys-creativity , @bunnliix, @adelusionforyourthoughts and occasionally @daemour 📍dividers by @cafekitsune banner made by me! ageless blocks will be blocked immediately if you interact with this post 📍AN: I HIGHLY recommend skipping this chapter if any of the following warnings below the cut are triggering or you are just not in a good headspace to read about a traumatizing event that befalls reader. It is not described in detail, but is described as having happened off screen. The trauma is not caused by any of the main cast, or idol representing character (i in fact refused to give him a name) masterlist | Previous | Next

📍Warning(s): extremely dark and triggering themes such as: mentions of r@pe, torture, graphic depiction of murder of minor character. Graphic details such as blood, stabbing, and talk of explosives. Kidnapping, held hostage, a somewhat cliche mafia scene with dark twists because trauma.

The bright lights woke the two men from their awkward slumber, Hongjoong being the first to lift his head despite a swollen eye. For three days of torture, the two of them were still pretty much in tact. It left Hongjoong feeling a bit… disappointed.

This was the feared Blood Hounds? The red chains around their necks were a give away, and with five of them it shouldn’t be too hard to cause some damage. So why were they mostly just bruises and busted skin from punches? The brass knuckles hurt something fierce, but aside from a dislocated shoulder all his bones were intact. He assumed it was the same for Seonghwa.

Twenty-four hour observation, no food or water but sleep was provided surprisingly. Probably to keep them coherent enough for the questioning.

And that was just as dull. Despite hunting them down, they knew so little. Didn’t even notice their connection to the law, or their full place in the Black Pirates. That was probably due to the Red Wolf that did the questioning. The man sat behind the lights, late thirties, early forties, and had his jacket open to expose his bare chest and the red wolf on his side. He even flaunted it often, making Hongjoong assume this man’s ego was bigger than the abandoned building they were in.

That was fine by him, it made it easier to play the game. “Let’s start from the beginning shall we? The black pirates are responsible for the hit on our territory a few weeks ago, correct?” The way the man emphasized ‘our’ just showed his pride over this situation. If Hongjoong had to guess, he was given this interrogation role as a test, most likely an ass kisser that worked his way up the ranks. A true coward under it all.

It made it hard not to mock him. “Not sure what you mean, please elaborate.” He licked some of the blood off his lip, tilting his head back and knocking it against Seonghwa to wake him up a bit more. The bright lights around them were annoying, but only really kept them awake now that they were. The man stood up and began to circle them, a little ticked off it seems with how harshly he glared. Hongjoong just yawned, seeming unaffected. Bored even. Because he was.

That just pissed off the wolf even more, throwing one of the lights to the ground in a rage as it broke and sparked out. “Three days we’ve been at this! How much longer are you going to keep playing this game?!” He shouted out, stomping over to Seonghwa and out of Hongjoong’s sight and gripping his hair.

Seonghwa spit in the man’s face. “As long as we want. Really, do you think you’re terrifying?” While he had a lot of bravado in his tone, Hongjoong could sense the underlying fear there. He knew his partner.

It had been three days and they weren’t sure if they had been out longer than a day. They had gone through scenarios like this dozens of times in case they were captured. Wooyoung could use his connection to the Pink Boas and as a freelancer to get out of his ties to the Pirates, something his mother had said she would always help with, but if it was any other member but Yeosang they had a plan.

Three days. That was the minimum needed for rescue. It gave Yeosang plenty of time to track their whereabouts, and the others to mobilize an extraction. It would have begun the moment there was an attack on the safe house. But Hongjoong knew it wasn’t for them that his partner was scared for, but he was sick with worry over you. Had you made it out? Did you go to Yeosang or did you run? What if you fought? Even Hongjoong couldn’t deny that was an option, knowing how feisty you could be. You weren’t the type to run anyways, but for once Hongjoong wished you were.

Sure their torture was pretty minimal but for you? A random woman in a Pirate safe house? Oh they wouldn’t attempt to question you, he knew that. He tried not to think about it though, tried not to let the unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach bother him. The implications that they were going easy on the torture on purpose and that it might have something to do with you. The real torture was not knowing if you were safe. The hits, starvation and dehydration were nothing. The soreness of his muscles he thought would be a nice excuse to beg you for a massage. Still, none of that compared to how he was sure Seonghwa felt.

He had watched over you since day one, first like a protective mother to see what damage you would do to his nest, then you were part of it. They wanted to make it official, maybe have you spend a few nights in their bed after all this was over.

So he knew Seonghwa didn’t care about the punch the man threw, jolting to the side as it connected with his jaw. He spit out blood onto the concrete just in Hongjoong’s view, but he kept his face stone cold. He never liked when Hwa’s pretty face got hurt.

The smug look on the man’s face was just as disgusting. “Then maybe a little bit more?” He nodded to two of the men and they left the room. There was a door opening somewhere, loud bass heavy music filtering out that hummed through the concrete under their feet. “Of what? Boredom?” Hongjoong through out with a bout of dry laughter. “I’ve had more intense fucks than this. Not even a whip or paddle or a knife? Booooring.” “Don’t give him any ideas, love, he’s already struggling with his creativity.” Seonghwa added on, finally lifting his head. “I think he might make it in a kindergarten painting class now.” 

In retaliation he grabbed Hwa by the hair again, yanking him up. Hongjoong was proud of the sinful moan Seonghwa let out, resulting in their ‘interrogator’ dropping his head and stepping back with a groan of disgust. “Seriously? Are you two getting off on this?” “Hardly. It’s not rough enough.” Seonghwa hummed out, licking his lips as he turned as if to look at Hongjoong. “You do it so much better baby.” “Ugh, gross.” 

Hongjoong had took a risk that the red wolves wouldn’t use them against each other sexually, too homophobic to do any touching or raping of sorts. He was glad that the risk was paying off.

Off in the distance they could hear the door and music again, and that feeling of dread returned. 

The wolf smirked, motioning to one of the men and pointing to the lights. Hongjoong watched with a frown as the hound turned two of their lights to the door, shining on the dark hallway just outside. A spotlight for a show.

“What? Got some fancy torture machine you’re going to bring out? Really, it’s like you want to get us off.” Despite that growing pit in his stomach, Hongjoong forced the taunt out. He wanted to wipe that disgusting smug smirk off his face the second the spotlight illuminated up the three people in the doorway.

Seonghwa’s pained gasp hurt as much as the sight of you. “Angel?” Hongjoong steeled his expression, taking in the sight of you to fuel the growing rage and bloodthirst that was building. Every cute, every drop of blood, every bruise, he would pay them back tenfold. None of that mattered compared to the mental damage they no doubt did on you, as you hadn’t even reacted to Seonghwa calling out for you. Body limp as you were dragged further into “Not so cocky now?” The wolf hummed out, making his way over to you and with each step Seonghwa and he began to thrash in their chains. “Oh you really don’t want me near her? Where do you think I am when I’m not here with you?” He slid up behind you, hand running over your exposed stomach and down. 

The way you tensed and began to shake wasn’t lost on the two men, both unable to look away from the one part of your naked body they had tried so hard to ignore. When the disgusting man cupped your bloody privates, Hongjoong let out a yell, thrashing even more against the chains. They had been loosening them slowly, but now it hadn’t been fast enough.

Not when the blindfold was removed from your eyes and the dead look in them brought tears burning behind their eyelids. Not when you wouldn’t look at them, you didn’t even seem mentally there.

“Can’t say her pussy was so good that I’d fight like this for it. Maybe her mouth if she hadn’t tried to bite off my dick. Ass far too tight…” He grabbed your mouth as he talked, smearing some of the dried blood from your lips and then thrust his hips against your back. Hongjoong knew he was taunting, just rubbing in the damage he had done to you, and it was working.

Seonghwa tried calling out for you again, desperation and pain in his tone that twisted Hongjoong’s heart further. Once more you didn’t react. “You son of a bitch let her go.” He threatened lowly, throttling hard enough the studs that kept the chair in place were beginning to break. For the briefest moments they froze, the brandishing of the knife against your throat giving them pause. You didn’t even flinch, but you trembled. The fear radiating off of you was palpable. What the fuck had he done to get you like this?

Only the beating of their hearts told them time was still passing, even their breath halted, the smug look on the wolf’s face growing by the second. He opened his mouth to taunt, but all hell broke loose before he got a word out.

The next few moments rushed by quickly, all starting with Seonghwa finally picking the chain and the metal falling loosely around them. Either because he finally got it loose, or because of who they saw just in the shadows of the bright doorway. Before the wolf had time to react, the knife was pulled out of his hand and tossed to Hongjoong who caught it easily, just as a gun was thrown to Seonghwa, thanks to Jongho rushing into the room and dislodging you from the man.

Finally, just in time, the others were here. That bit of relief had the other two men moving with confidence, fueled by their rage of what was done to you.

You fell limply against Jongho’s chest as he kicked the man right into one of the spotlights. He tripped over it, both crashing to the ground, which Hongjoong took as his opportunity to pounce on the man.

He spared no mercy as he first slit the man’s throat, just a bit shallow so he would suffer, then jabbed the knife into him over and over before he could bleed out. He kept eye contact, wanting his fury known. Even long after the body was limp beneath him he kept going, Seonghwa having effectively eliminated the blood hounds with a precise bullet to each of their skulls, leaving no enemy alive.

Only his rage. One stab for each mark on you. Each bruise. Each cut. For the number of times this disgusting being had probably violated you. For the dead look in your eyes, the way you trembled.

It was all Hongjoong could do, screaming at the dead man as if it could somehow take away the pain he inflicted on you. Seonghwa had to walk over and peel Hongjoong off of the dead body, grabbing his wrist to get him to drop the knife. They shared a look, Seonghwa shaking his head and then nudging his chin in your direction. He followed, tensing up at the sight of you huddled against Jongho’s chest, holding onto his shirt with such a death grip. 

Hongjoong knew you both still didn’t trust or like each other, so it shocked him out of his rage, the pain boiling to the surface once more. Jongho was leaning against the wall, holding you to him with both arms around your back. You were laying your cheek against his shoulder, breathing heavily and uneven but seemingly dazed. Tears had started falling down your cheeks, and Jongho looked as pained as Hongjoong was feeling. “We need to get her out of here Joongie.” Seonghwa gently prompted, rubbing his lover’s back. Despite how distraught he had been moments ago, Seonghwa sounded much more clear headed now. It helped ground Hongjoong, dropping the knife. “Where… where are the others?” Hongjoong managed to get out, still panting from the excursion of, well, murdering someone brutally. Jongho didn’t even look up from you, gaze glued to your face, following each tear that fell down your cheek. “Yunho is out front with the van, Mingi is setting up the explosives on the ground floor, San and I split up and he checked the floor below us-” He stopped as he heard music, the base vibrating through the concrete, and then it stopped. “That music was louder on the first floor, we took out the guards there when it was vibrating the place…” He trailed off when they heard screams. San’s screams.

They were screams of anguish. The three of them shared a silent look of understanding before glancing at you. He must have found the room you were kept in, aware the building was currently clear of enemies if he had entered the room to begin with. Hongjoong looked at Seonghwa with a pleading look. “He’ll need you, I won’t be calm enough.” “And I would be?” He hissed out, motioning to you just to have you flinch. It was both a good and bad sign. Good that you were still, to some extent aware of your surroundings… but that meant you were probably aware of what they just did. “Angel…” He sighed, relenting as he pocketed the gun and moved around slowly so as not to spook you. “Get her to the car, and then let's blow this place up.”

Seonghwa left then, hurrying down the hall and leaving behind silence. Hongjoong was afraid to reach for you at first, freezing up when his bloody hand got close. You stared at the blood there, seemingly more present, then looked up at him. He gave the softest most gentle smile he could muster at the moment. “Hey firecracker. You're safe now.”

Your gaze shifted to the dead body behind him, then back to him questionly. “Yes, I killed him. He hurt you, he didn't deserve to live another second. Now… do you want to go home with us? We can clean you up and feed you. Does that sound nice?”

The both of them waited for some answer from you, and it came in the form of wrapping your arms around Jongho's neck. The man held on tighter, looking up at his leader for answers on what to do. 

Hongjoong motioned at the door. “Carry her out, she's probably in a lot of pain so be gentle. You have Yeosang on the line?” He pointed to his ear where the piece was. At Jongho's nod while he slowly picked you up, Hongjoong grabbed it and stuck It in his ear. 

“How bad is it?” Yeosang immediately spoke into the piece and Hongjoong could hear a nervous clicking on the other side. “When I saw them grab her the other day I tried to get Yunho there I-”

“Yeosang. This isn't your fault.” Hongjoong chided  as he followed Jongho out of the room, keeping an eye out but he knew Seonghwa would have dealt with any strangers on his way. “She's alive, but I need you to warn the others. Where is Wooyoung?”

“He's with Minjae at the base. He was going to bring them in as backup if needed. He won't… he won't handle it Captain.”

“I know. So you're going to tell him to check the other locations and safe houses we have with Minjae and the others and that I want a full report tonight. We need to…” his gaze flickered back to you, still trembling in Jongho's arms and hiding your face against his shoulder. Jongho himself looked as pained as Hongjoong felt, but he was whispering gentle words to you so low that not even Hongjoong could make them out. “We're going to give her time to rest before Wooyoung sees her.”

“Understood? What else?” There was a firmness to Yeosang's tone that took Hongjoong by surprise, but he pushed on.

“Just warn Mingi and Yunho not to panic. Hwa is with San. If Yunho has a blanket or something to cover her, he needs to have it ready. Contact Wooyoung’s mother for a female doctor, Firecracker might trust-”

Hongjoong broke off when he heard someone else on the connection. Seonghwa. “Joong… there are pictures of what he did to her. The bed is soaked in blood and the chains…”

“What the fuck do you mean?” Mingi's voice suddenly cut in, broadcasting on all channels. “What the fuck did they do to our Princess?!”

“Easy Mingi. She needs us calm right now okay? Get this building ready to blow.” Hongjoong attempted to pacify him as the ascended the stairs. The skipped the floor below, hitting the ground floor and headed for the entrance. Mingi met them first and Hongjoong quickly moved to get in the way.

He hated the way his eyes went big and glassy, the color draining from his face as he stared at you. When Mingi tried to reach out though, Jongho stepped back, shaking his head. “She just stopped shaking. Don't. No more surprises for her.”

Hongjoong was shocked by the defensiveness of Jongho’s tone, so was Mingi, both staring at him like the many just grew a second head.

Jongho dipped his head and just rushed off for the door, past the two dead guards there. So Mingi turned to Hongjoong, finally taking in the blood that covered him before asking. “Tell me that belongs to the one who hurt her.”

“It does.” It was Seonghwa that answered, holding an angry San by the back of the neck as they descended the stairs. “He's nothing more than a mutilated corpse. We started a fire in the room she was held in, but let's burn this whole place to the ground.”

“Is she…” San prompted, blood sneered on his cheek and a crumbled picture in his hand. “She’s alive right?” He refused to look at either of them, his shoulders and voice trembling.

Hongjoong knew that this was hardest for San no doubt, with his experience and his past with you. Softly Hongjoong patted his broad shoulders. “She needs us to be strong, okay? Would our firecracker want us looking at her like she's broken goods?”

“No.” The three others, and Yeosang, all chimed in.

“Then let's go. It's about time we take her home.” He guided them outside to the waiting van, the door was open and Jongho was sitting on the floor, his back against the driver seat a very pissed off Yunho sat in. The man was gripping the steering wheel hard enough the veins on his hands were sticking out.

Hongjoong forced Mingi up front, climbing in the back with Seonghwa who was already covering you up with the blankets since Jongho refused to let you go. Er, well, you were now holding onto his arm so Hongjoong could only assume you didn't let him.

That just hurt more.

No more than a few seconds of pulling away from the building did a series of explosions go off, the building crumbling to rabble but for Hongjoong that wasn't enough. He couldn't take away what had happened to you, just the place it did. Nor could he undo the fact it happened to you… because of him. Of them and where they had you.

Only silence accompanied the somber tension in the van.

Taglist will be added to reblogs so they will be easy to ignore!

[seungcheollies-cake]

𝔞𝔰𝔥 | 𝔡𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔢 𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰

Pairing: pyromaniac!Jeong Yunho x slasher!Reader AU: non-idol Summary: When Dr. Kim Hongjoong arrives at the manor with his assistant, Jeong Yunho, an unsettling urge stirs within you—to extinguish his vibrant spark. But little did you know that even the brightest lights have a way of casting the darkest shadows—OR, you and Yunho commit crimes all in the name of love. Word Count: 6.6K Warnings: MDNI SMUT (18+), dark themes, swearing, blood, m*rder, violence, this is purely fictional and the characters are unhinged, I don't condone this behavior, sorry San

a/n: dropping my poor attempt at gothic horror and running away

“Love?” you sang, skipping toward your paramour, your voice lilting in a way that would have sounded sweet if not for the blood splattered across your cheeks and the wicked gleam in your eye. The crimson stained your dress as you twirled the blade in hand, its tip dripping in time with your steps.

“How did I do?”

“You’ve really outdone yourself this time,” Yunho sighed, almost wistfully, his tone warm despite the dark intent behind his words. He reached out, his thumb tracing a path down your blood-streaked cheek.

You grinned, throwing yourself into his arms as he caught you effortlessly, pulling you into a kiss so deep that the world around you blurred. Smoke clung to him like a second skin, mingling with the sharp, metallic tang of blood that lingered in the air.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes flickered to the bloodied corpse swaying gently from the chandelier—your latest masterpiece. Yunho’s gaze lingered, his expression unreadable, save for the slight curl of his lips. Approval, tinged with something far darker.

“Wasted potential,” you pouted, toying with the lapel of Yunho’s jacket. “I really wanted to keep him.”

His jaw tensed, and you caught the way his eyes darkened, the playful warmth in them giving way to something far more dangerous. Yunho’s hands tightened on your hips, his grip firm enough to send a spark of heat through your body. The small, possessive squeeze was a reminder of the simmering jealousy lurking beneath his otherwise laid-back demeanor.

“There’s no more room in your collection, darling,” he murmured, his voice dangerously low as he locked eyes with you. He leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. 

“You know I don’t like it when other men look at you.”

Something about his possessiveness sent a thrill through you. Most people would cower under such intensity, but you? You reveled in it. Your pulse quickened, your breaths coming shallow and fast, giddy with excitement. 

The first time you met Yunho, he was supposed to die like all the others. 

Aurora Manor had been in the Kang family for generations. The sprawling manor, with its towering spires and labyrinthine gardens, served as both your home and your hunting ground. Most guests, enchanted by the manor’s old-world charm and your family’s disarming smiles, never suspected the danger lurking within. 

Yunho had arrived as the assistant to your brother’s college friend, Dr. Kim Hongjoong, who was staying at the manor for a weeklong visit, and like any good hunter, you set your sights on him almost immediately. 

Yunho’s kind personality and genuine warmth made him your forbidden fruit, all the more tempting with every effortless gesture. He seamlessly fit into the household, endearing himself to everyone with his intoxicating laughter echoing through the halls. There was something about him—too vibrant, too tempting, like a fire burning too brightly. 

It made you want to extinguish that spark, to dim the light in his eyes just to see what he looked like in the dark–perfect, still, and beautiful, another piece in your collection.

But you were wrong. So, wrong. 

“Oh hush, Mimi,” you said, tilting your head in mock sympathy. “No one can hear you out here—not even San.” The mention of his name sent another wave of sobs through her, and you smirked, savoring every broken sound.

Her voice cracked under the strain, her cries fraught with desperation as she dangled helplessly from the barn rafter.

“But soon,” you continued, more to yourself now, “with you out of the way, I’ll finally have the chance to add him to my collection. Perhaps Father can even arrange for me to marry him.” 

Mimi’s screams turned to pitiful whimpers as her strength waned, and you took a step closer, the wooden floor creaking under your weight. 

“You know,” you began, your voice carrying an eerie sweetness, “I’d almost feel bad for you if you weren’t so utterly insufferable.” You twirled a silver blade between your fingers, watching how the dim light caught on its edge. 

“Parading around high society as if you’re anything more than a lowborn whore,” you added, your tone sharpening. “Throwing yourself at him like the desperate little thing you are, sullying him… but now”—you leaned in slightly, your voice dropping to a whisper—“here we are.”

You leaned in, your face inches from hers, and grinned. “Don’t worry, though. I’ll make sure San remembers you fondly. Maybe I’ll tell him you ran away, too ashamed to show your face after I caught you alone with–”

“Y/N?”

The barn door creaked open suddenly, and you froze, your blood turning to ice. Slowly, you turned to see Yunho standing in the doorway, his tall frame silhouetted against the moonlight. The horror in his eyes was unmistakable.

If Yunho ran, if he told anyone—

No. You wouldn’t let that happen.

“Oh, Yunho,” you said, your tone light and sweet, though your heart was thumping in your chest. “You weren’t supposed to see this.”

Without a second thought, you drew your knife across Mimi’s throat. A wet gurgle escaped her lips, and blood spurting from the gash, painting the wooden floor and splattering across your dress. You didn’t flinch, your eyes never leaving Yunho’s as her body went limp, swaying slightly from the rafter.

You stepped forward, but Yunho matched you with a step back, his dark eyes unreadable before he turned and fled into the night. He was fast—far faster than you had anticipated. His long strides carried him through the maze of shadows, but you were relentless, the knife in your hand catching the moonlight as you darted after him.

You surged forward, your knife aiming for his chest. But he sidestepped, his hand shooting out to catch your wrist mid-swing, knocking the knife from your grasp. The weapon clattered to the ground, but you didn’t falter. You fought back, striking at him with every ounce of strength you had. He caught your arm, spun you around, and pinned it above your head as he pressed you against a tree.

But with a sharp twist, you broke free, shoving him back and diving for the knife. Your fingers brushed the handle just as his hand closed around your ankle, dragging you away. You kicked out, forcing him to release you, and scrambled to your feet, the knife now firmly in your grasp. 

The blade’s edge hovered above his skin, the pressure faint enough to make your intentions clear. Yunho’s back pressed firmly against the rough bark, his breath steady despite the danger glinting in your eyes. You dragged the blade downward, savoring the way his muscles tensed beneath the cold steel.

“Killing you would be such a waste,” you murmured, tilting your head as if savoring the thought. You dragged the tip slowly, deliberately, savoring the subtle resistance as it caught on the fabric without piercing his skin.

“You’d make such a beautiful addition,” you continued, “I wouldn’t mind another pretty face.”

Yunho didn’t flinch. Instead, his smirk grew, his gaze dipping to your lips before dragging back up to meet your eyes. 

“You talk like I’m prey,” he said, his voice low and disturbingly calm.

His hand shot out, gripping your wrist tightly, stopping the knife mid-drag, his grip unyielding as he leaned in. 

“But you’re not the only predator here.”

The blade slipped from your hand, falling to the ground with a muffled thud. You barely had a second to react before he reversed your positions, pinning you against the tree. His lips crashed against yours with a force that stole your breath, his hand flying to your throat and loosening its grip just enough to let you gasp against him.

The kiss was anything but gentle; it was raw, demanding, and unapologetically consuming, as though he wanted to claim you in a way words never could. You responded with equal fervor, biting his lower lip hard enough to draw a low growl from him. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his lips red and slightly swollen, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Let me show you.”

You searched his face, trying to gauge his seriousness. The dark, glittering look in his eyes—filled with an almost reverent fascination—sent a shiver down your spine.

⊹

“Fire has always spoken to me,” Yunho murmured, his voice low and smooth, as he grabbed your hand and led you back to the barn. 

“It’s wild, uncontrollable…but if you know how to handle it, it becomes art.” 

Yunho reached into his pocket and retrieved a small metal lighter, its polished silver surface glinting faintly in the light. 

“Do you see it?” He tilted the lighter slightly, letting the flame stretch upward. “It’s alive. It breathes, it moves, and when it’s fed… it transforms.”

You couldn’t tear your eyes away, captivated by the intensity in his voice and the mesmerizing way he handled the flame. A slow smile tugged at your lips as you stared into the flickering light, an exhilarating, dark thrill coursing through you, making your fingers twitch.

Your gaze shifted to Mimi’s lifeless body, her form dangling lifelessly in the position you’d left her. Her vacant eyes stared into nothingness, her form swaying faintly with the whispers of wind slipping through the cracks in the barn walls. You took a step closer, unable to resist admiring your work. The silence was deafening, yet perversely satisfying—a chilling reminder of the finality of it all.

Behind you, Yunho moved with quiet precision, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you firmly against him. His free hand pressed the lighter into your palm, his fingers lingering just long enough to make your breath hitch.

“See for yourself,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. 

With a flick of your thumb, the lighter sparked to life, its small flame casting a faint glow. You lowered it to the edge of her clothes. The instant the fire touched the fabric, it flared with a hungry hiss, consuming it greedily as tendrils of smoke spiraled into the air.

As the flames climbed higher, their flickering light reflecting in your eyes, you leaned back against Yunho. A laugh rose from deep within you—soft and subdued at first, then breaking free, loud and unrestrained.

Smoke clung to your clothes and hair as you and Yunho darted through the garden, the night air doing little to temper the heat still pulsing in your veins.

The faint glow of the fire lit your path back to the manor, its flickering light casting eerie shadows on the statues and hedges as you weaved through them. Breathless but still riding the high, you slipped inside the manor, creeping up the grand staircase to your room.

Yunho surged toward you, mouth latching onto your lips as he tore at your bodice, desperate to devour that chaos that was you. He pressed a kiss to the swell of your breasts, the tip of his tongue tracing over the soft skin before latching on to a nipple. Your hands fumbled to unbutton his trousers, desperate to get him undressed. You couldn't help the cry that escaped your throat when you felt his hand slip under your skirts and between your legs.

“Do you know how quickly a fire spreads when there’s gasoline in the air?” he asked, lips ghosting against the sensitive mound. His long fingers traced lazy circles around your slit, his ministrations, deliberate and teasing, as if drawing more of those precious sounds from you was his sole purpose.

You shook your head, stumbling back on to the mattress, your mind scrambling to respond, but you couldn't. Not when everything about him—his eyes, voice, and intensity—was pulling you deeper into the fire.

“It only takes a spark,” he purred, pressing against your lips. 

Yunho’s fingers brushed gently against the strands of your hair that clung to your face, tucking them behind your ear. He sat back on his heels, working his cock out of his trousers, fisting it without breaking eye contact with you. 

“One tiny spark, and everything you thought you controlled goes up in flames.”

He lined his leaky cockhead against you, teasing your sopping cunt with the tip. You whimpered, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer. His hands slid down to your ass, squeezing and kneading as he pulled out, then moved back in halfway. 

“W-What happens when the fire gets out of control?” you gasped, your breath hitching with the adrenaline coursing through your veins, your face flushed with intensity. 

Yunho bottomed out with a low groan, his body tense as he stilled inside you. His eyes locked onto yours, dark and intense, the primal focus in them unwavering as he watched your face twist in pleasure. The way your lips parted, your eyes fluttering and rolling back, and the way your tits bounced—he drank it all in, captivated.

“You let it burn,” his lips latched on to your jawline, peppering kisses down to your neck, pushing your leg up higher so he could angle himself deeper. 

“Because once it consumes everything,” his voice faltered, at the way your pussy twitched around him, “there’s no escape.” 

Yunho’s pace became erratic, his fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise. You squealed when his cock slid against your walls, and you couldn’t think of anything other than how you wanted him to fuck you stupid. You wanted to surrender to him, to be completely devoured by someone who could match you, challenge you, and make you feel alive in ways you never imagined. 

“Fuck fuck, take me, Yunho, please,” you babbled, ready to submit to him.

The way he stuffed you full, the sound of his hips pounding against your ass, accompanied by the sloppy squelches of your pussy drenching him with your juices, or the way he tugged at your hair, making sure you couldn’t get away stirred a heat in your lower belly, growing unbearable. 

You could smell his musk, sweat, and something else—something primal invade your senses, and you shivered. You were getting lightheaded and you swore you could hear your own heartbeat, and for a moment, you forgot to breathe as your orgasm tore through you.   

It was a smoldering ache that spread like wildfire. You clung to him, every sensation heightened—the warmth of his body beneath your touch, and the rise and fall of his chest against yours.

Yunho felt the knot in his stomach tighten, lifting you off his cock and slamming you back down through the aftershocks. You knew he was teetering on the edge of his own high, and you wiggled, clenching down hard to milking him. You felt it. The way his hips stuttered, filling you completely to the brim with thick velvety ropes of cum. 

"Want you, o-only you," he stammered, struggling to catch his bread. His lips crashed into yours, the kiss a desperate collision of tongues and teeth, an unspoken promise of the darkness that bound you together. 

“Let me be yours.”

"Darling," you called out, your voice carrying a playful lilt as you meticulously polished a set of knives laid out before you. 

Yunho, seated comfortably by the hearth with a book in hand, tilted his head slightly in your direction but didn’t yet look up. His sharp features softened under the golden glow of the firelight, but there was a glint of suspicion in his eyes.

“Yes?” he replied, dragging out the word in that familiar tone that was both indulgent and wary—a tone reserved just for you when he suspected you were up to something.

You stepped closer, draping your arms lazily over his broad shoulders, your fingers lightly tracing patterns on his chest. His lips quirked into a small smile despite himself, though his gaze flicked briefly to the blades on the table.

“It seems we’ll be going to our next victim, rather than him coming to us.”

"The Choi’s," Yunho muttered, his jaw tightening, the muscle twitching ever so slightly as he processed your words.

“Isn’t it perfect?” you continued, a note of excitement in your voice. “A grand estate, a lavish event, and San, all under one roof. It’s almost as if the stars aligned just for us.”

A shadow flickered across Yunho’s expression, his eyes narrowing briefly. In a swift, almost instinctive motion, his hands found your waist, gripping firmly as he yanked you against him.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he murmured, his voice low and edged with a growl that sent a thrill down your spine.

Tilting your head, you offered him a coy smile, feigning innocence. “San’s hardly a threat to you.” Your fingers reached up, tracing a delicate path along the line of his jaw, the touch soft, meant to soothe.

“You know you're the only one I have eyes for.”

His lips twitched into a smirk, though the possessive gleam in his eyes didn’t fade. “Good,” he murmured, leaning down to brush a kiss against the corner of your lips. 

“Because if he tries anything, it won’t be you who takes care of him.”

The carriage rattled along the cobblestone, every jolt and bump pressing you further into the cramped confines of the plush interior.

“Who thought this was a good idea?” you grumbled, wedged between Yeosang’s broad shoulders on one side and Hongjoong’s sharp elbows on the other. Across from you, Yunho sat with an amused smile tugging at his lips, clearly entertained by the unfolding drama.

“Might I remind you,” Yeosang began, his tone clipped and precise, “that as an unwed woman, you are still subject to scrutiny amongst the rest of society.”

You shot him a look. “Oh, forgive me, dear brother. I didn’t realize your lectures came free with the cramped seating arrangement.”

Hongjoong snorted, trying—and failing—to stifle his laughter. “Yeosang does have a point, though. You wouldn’t want whispers of impropriety, would you?”

“Whispers of impropriety are practically a given,” you shot back, rolling your eyes. 

“And if they get too loud, I could always… take care of the problem.” You punctuated the statement with a wicked smirk, earning raised brows from both men beside you.

“Take care of the problem?” Hongjoong echoed, feigning shock as he pressed a hand to his chest. “You mean every single person in attendance at the ball?”

“I wouldn’t need to dispose of everyone,” you replied smoothly, leaning back in your seat despite the lack of room.

“Just the ones who I particularly dislike. Though I would spare your fiance, brother, she’s quite lovely.” 

Yeosang’s betrothed was indeed lovely, but in the way a porcelain doll might be—delicate, beautiful, and utterly unaware of the shadows looming just beyond her perfect little world.

The Choi estate finally loomed into view, its grand spires and glowing windows promising a night of intrigue and chaos. For now, you were content to let the banter fade as you prepared for the night ahead.

“You all survived,” Hongjoong declared as the carriage came to a halt. He threw the door open with a flourish, stepping out dramatically. “You’re welcome.”

You navigated the crowd of guests with purpose, the fabric of your gown swishing against the polished marble floor as you scanned the room, intent on finding San.

Convincing your father to agree to the engagement hadn’t been easy. You’d begged and pleaded, painting San as the perfect addition to the collection—handsome, charming, well-connected, and clever enough to keep you interested.

Your father remained unmoved, but you persisted, highlighting the political advantages of the match. Eventually, he relented—not because of your arguments, but because of your relentless determination that promised you’d stop at nothing to make San yours.

“There you are,” you said, slipping seamlessly into the role of the devoted fiancée. Without waiting for an invitation, you placed your hand lightly on San’s arm, your touch both possessive and calculated.

From the shadows, Yunho’s eyes burned with a dark intensity as he watched the exchange. His jaw clenched as San’s hand brushed yours—a gesture that seemed casual to spectators but carried intent he didn’t like.

“Walk with me,” you whispered, the command so lightly delivered it felt like an invitation. You didn’t wait for San’s answer, turning toward the garden doors with a confidence that ensured he’d follow.

The night air greeted you as you stepped onto the terrace, the chatter of the ballroom fading behind you. You barely glanced back as San fell into step beside you, his movements measured and unhurried.

“Not a fan of the crowd?” he asked, his tone conversational.

“Am I not allowed to have any privacy with my betrothed?” you replied, leading him down a path lined with hedges. 

San followed, his footsteps measured and unhurried. “Privacy?” he repeated, a soft chuckle escaping him. “That’s a rare luxury in our world. You know that everyone is waiting for the next scandal.”

“Indeed,” you sighed, your tone tinged with weariness, the perfect prelude to what came next.

You took a small step closer, your movement subtle yet designed to chip away at his composure. Your gaze locked onto his, steady and inviting, drawing him in like a moth to a flame. His eyes flickered to your lips before returning to meet yours, his composure faltering for a heartbeat. 

“That’s why,” you murmured, your voice soft, intimate, as though the words were meant for him alone, “this is the perfect opportunity for us to… escape.”

His brows lifted slightly, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Escape?” 

You leaned in just enough to let your breath ghost against his skin, your next words dripping with suggestion.

“Away from the eyes that watch our every move. Doesn’t the idea tempt you, even just a little?” you whispered, your fingers lightly brushing his sleeve. 

Yunho watched as you wove your trap with precision, the threads of your web wrapping tighter around your victim. He fought to suppress his darker instincts: to tear San away from you, to smother him in flames, and put an end to the amusement. 

Yet he remained still, rooted in the shadows like a predator lying in wait. He knew better than to interfere. The success of your hunt depended on San’s willingness to step into your web, unaware of the danger closing in from every side. 

⊹

“Mmph, San just like that,” you moaned, voice breathy and as he slammed up into you. You could feel every inch of him as you rode him, the tip of his cock sliding against your walls and pressing into your soft, slick flesh.

Your thighs were trembling as you rose up and rolled back down onto his length, your own slickness dripping from your core, down your legs and over his thighs. 

“Fuck, you little minx,” he chuckled, reaching out to swat your ass. “Your idea of an escape wasn’t such a bad idea.”

San was panting now, his chest heaving with each ragged breath, muscles coiled tight beneath his skin. You leaned in closer, your fingers curling around his jaw, tilting his face upward into a kiss. Your lips brushed his, but your eyes stayed open, a faint smirk dancing on your lips as you watched Yunho out of the corner of your eye.

Yunho's brow twitched ever so slightly. His gaze remained steady, but the subtle tightening of his jaw hinted at the jealousy simmering beneath the surface. He could have ended this easily, efficiently, moments ago. One swift move, and San would’ve been neutralized, sparing him the theatrics unfolding before him. 

San’s hands slid down to the fat of your ass, his grip firm and possessive, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. He was consumed by the heat of your touch and the illusion of control.

“I can practically feel your jealousy from here,” you purred, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. 

San stiffened at your words, his head snapping around to follow your gaze. His eyes widened as they locked onto Yunho, who stepped out from the shadows, the glint of a syringe catching the dim light.

“What the—” San began, his voice tinged with confusion and anger.

“I’m sorry about this, darling,” you whispered, your tone laced with a teasing sweetness. “You’re far too sweet for someone like me.”

In one fluid motion, Yunho struck, the needle slipping into San’s neck with clinical precision. The sharp hiss of the syringe was barely audible, but the effect was immediate. His body jerked, muscles tensing for a brief moment before the sedative began to take hold. 

“Sannie?” you cooed mockingly, your voice lilting as you gazed up at him. 

A low groan escaped San’s lips, his eyelids fluttering weakly as the haze of unconsciousness began to lift. His head lolled to the side before snapping upright, a sharp intake of breath signaling the return of his senses.

Above him, the elaborate chandelier swayed, its gilded arms and crystal droplets gleaming eerily in the dim light. Thick ropes cut into his wrists, binding him to the curved metal and leaving him strung up like a puppet.

As a figure emerged beneath the chandelier, the haze in his vision couldn't obscure your unmistakable presence. Despite the pain and confusion, he recognized you instantly.

“Y/N!” he barked, his tinged with anger.

“Me?” you replied with a mock innocence, pointing to yourself with the knife in hand.

“Why are you doing this? Put me down!”

You tilted your head, your expression hovering somewhere between amusement and indifference. The faintest smile tugged at your lips as you took a step closer, inspecting the blade in your hand as if it were far more interesting than his presence.

“Well, I wanted to keep you for myself,” you began, your voice light and casual, as though discussing the weather. Slowly, you circled around San, your footsteps muffled by the exquisite rug. 

“But, you see, keeping someone requires a certain...process.”

San’s eyes followed your every move, his body tensing with every word. “Process?” he repeated, his voice a low growl. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

You stopped in front of him, leaning slightly closer as if sharing a secret. 

“It’s something of a family tradition” you began, fiddling with the blade in hand. “We’ve been curators for generations. Artists, really, in preserving beauty. Faces, bodies... souls. It’s an art passed down from my ancestors.”

“You…kill people and turn them into...into trophies?” San’s breathing grew heavier, his heart racing as he struggled to process your words.

“And you were going to do that to…me?” 

“Of course,” you replied, as if the answer were obvious. “You would’ve been my crown jewel.”

“You’re insane!” San hissed. 

“People keep saying that,” you mused, “but I think they just don’t understand that it’s about preservation—ensuring the things we treasure don’t fade away with time.”

Your eyes roamed over his face with a detached sort of admiration, as if he were a sculpture in a gallery rather than a living, breathing man. Slowly, you closed the distance between you, craning your neck upward to meet his scowl. 

“It’s a shame,” you murmured, your voice softening into something disturbingly tender, “to waste a face and body sculpted by God himself.”

San’s form was a masterpiece, from the way his chest heaved beneath the ropes binding him to the ridges of his abdomen catching the flickering candlelight like carved stone. His arms strained against the restraints, biceps taut, and the sheen of sweat on his body accentuated every curve and line, turning him into a living, breathing statue.

The faint screech of steel against flesh made him flinch, his head jerking away sharply as he tried to put even the smallest distance between you. 

“It starts with the skin,” you said, the blade’s edge gliding slowly up his abdomen, its cool metal a sharp contrast to the heat of his body. “Carefully removed, tenderly treated with salts and oils to keep it soft, supple… perfect. No flaws, no mistakes.”

The blade lingered against his chest, resting just above the frantic beat of his heart. Your fingers tightened around the hilt, tilting it slightly as you admire the quiver of his muscles beneath the steel. "Then the muscle—preserved layer by layer, until what’s left is the very essence of you. It’s… devotion.”

“I’m not some thing,” he spat, his voice trembling with anger.

“No,” you agreed, stepping back just enough to grant him the illusion of space.

“You’re not a thing, San. You’re divine. I had to have you. Something as perfect as you deserves to be worshiped...forever.”

His chest rose and fell with sharp, uneven breaths, his eyes flickering with desperation as he tried to process your words. But before he could respond, you turned your attention elsewhere, mischief creeping into your expression.

“But alas,” you said, your voice laced with mock sorrow, “I only have eyes for one man now. And since he said no...”

You stepped closer, your movements unhurried, like a predator savoring the moment before the kill. Your smile widened ever so slightly as you tilted your head toward San, “...you can’t be a part of my collection.”

With a sharp flick of your wrist, the knife moved, finding its mark in an instant, slicing clean through the fragile barrier of flesh at the base of his throat.

A strangled gasp escaped him as his body jerked violently against the ropes that bound him. His wide eyes met yours, filled with disbelief, a desperate plea lingering just behind the surface. But you weren’t done.

Another thrust. And another.

The blade sank into his gut, each motion deliberate and unhurried, as if you were painting a masterpiece with every strike. Blood gushed from the fresh wounds, pooling beneath him, staining the floor at your feet. His body convulsed, his muscles straining against the bonds in a futile attempt to escape the inevitable.

You stepped back, watching the light drain from his eyes. There was a strange beauty in the way his features softened, his defiance melting into something quieter, almost serene.

“Love?” you sang, skipping toward your paramour, your voice lilting in a way that would have sounded sweet if not for the blood splattered across your cheeks and the wicked gleam in your eye. The crimson stained your dress as you twirled the blade in hand, its tip dripping in time with your steps.

“How did I do?”

“Did you enjoy pouring accelerant around the manor?” you asked, your voice teasing as you glanced at Yunho. 

He huffed, slipping his hand into San’s fur coat. His fingers rummaged through the pockets, seeking anything worth pilfering, until they brushed against a cigar case.

"I would have enjoyed it a lot more if he didn't have his hands all over you," Yunho muttered with displeasure. He bit down on the cigar, his gaze never leaving yours. The flicker of his lighter caught the curve of his pout, the cigar’s tip flaring bright before he exhaled a slow, lazy plume of smoke.

“I’m sorry my love, it was part of the plan,” you said softly. 

Rising onto your tiptoes, your hands rested lightly against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your palms. You leaned in, brushing a tender kiss to his lips. His mouth softened against yours, the lingering tension dissolving with his quiet sigh, leaving the cigar forgotten in his hand.

“Let me make it up to you?” you whispered against his lips.

His gaze bore into yours for a moment, intense and unyielding before a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. Without a word, Yunho turned and sauntered toward the chaise, easing himself against the cushions. With his arm draped along the backrest, he commanded you with hooded eyes, tracking your movement as you approached.

Trembling with excitement, you let your bloodied dress slip from your shoulders, pooling at your feet. You sunk to your knees before him as your hands smoothed up his thighs, working to undo his trousers. The fabric gave away and Yunho lifted his hips as you pulled them down, his hand immediately fisting in your hair, dragging you up. 

"Open,” he commanded with a tone that could only send a shiver down your spine. 

Your lips parted, and he leaned in, capturing you in a rough, consuming kiss. The taste of tobacco lingered on his tongue, its rich, smoky heat clouding your senses and making your head spin. As the kiss deepened, he exhaled slowly, sending a plume of smoke into your mouth.

When he finally pulled back, your lips tingled from the loss of contact, the ghost of his touch still lingering. Yunho crushed the cigar against the ashtray before beckoning you forward with his fingers.

You stuck your tongue out, allowing his thick shaft to slide past your lips. Yunho groaned as you wrapped your hands around the base of his cock, your tongue flattening along his length and tucking his tip along the underside. Your tongue swirled around the tip before as you bobbed your head, taking him deeper with each pass.

He threw his head back, his thrusts growing rougher as he bucked into your mouth, tears forming in the corner of your eyes from how thick your lover’s cock was. 

“That’s it, you’ll take it all won’t you love?” he encouraged. 

You nodded as best you could, moaning wantonly as he proceeded to fuck your face, moving faster and harder. Wetness dripped between your thighs, the taste of his arousal driving your own need to be fucked as you slid a hand down, fingers pressing between your legs.

Yunho hissed from the vibration of your moan and momentarily released his grip on your hair. His fingers pressed into your cheeks, squishing them gently but firmly, tilting your head to ensure your gaze stayed locked with his. You looked up at him, panting, cheeks flushed and swollen lips parted–his little angel. He yanked you toward him, his mouth crushing against yours as his tongue forced its way past your lips, savoring his own taste. 

“Mmph, Yunho please,” you gasped between kisses, “I need it,” you begged, squeezing your thighs together to relieve the ache you felt between them. 

“I thought you were going to make it up to me, but I guess I can’t help it when you look like a fucking angel.” 

His grip on your arm was firm, as he hauled you upward with almost no effort. He guided you on to his lap, his angry cockhead teasing your folds as you straddled his hips. You bit back a whimper, grinding against his dick, giving you the relief you so desperately needed. 

“What do you need? Use your words, darling.”

“Need to be fucked, need you in me,” you whined, reaching between your to line his cock against your cunt but he stopped, grabbing a hold of your wrist. 

“You want me to fuck you right after you had another man in you?”

“You know there is no one else. Please, please just fuck me, please! I'm begging you, I'm yours, only yours. Only ever yours. Always!”

Yunho hoisted you up by the hips and sheathed himself inside of you, his tip kissing against your most sensitive spot. You reveled in the way the curve of his dick caressed your walls, writhing yourself against him, desperate to fuck yourself up and down his length. 

“Hands behind your back.” 

You obeyed, bringing your hands behind your back as his hand wrapped firmly around your wrists, holding them in place, a reminder of who was in control. 

“Yes, sir,” you stuttered, rolling your hips against him. Yunho sucked his teeth, admiring the way you were so compliant for him, how you desperately wanted to please him–a sharp contrast from the calculated killer you had been moments before. 

Squelching sounds filled the room as you slid along his length before slamming back down, the sound spurring you on as he entered you again and again, each thrust harder than the last. You felt like you could cum at any moment as the pleasure was overwhelming but you didn’t want him to know how close you were. 

“I know you’re close, angel,” he taunted against your nipple, gazing up at you with hooded eyes. “Let got for mmf–”

You leaned forward, stuffing Yunho’s mouth with one of your tits, revenge for forcing you to keep your hands behind your back. He groaned, tongue lapping against your nipple as your arousal seeped from your core down, pooling around in a milky white ring around the base of his cock. 

Yunho was growing impatient with you and slid his hand up, his fingers curling around your throat with a slight squeeze that had you spiraling into a haze of delirium. That was all it took for your cunt to spasm as your release finally came. 

"That's my angel," he cooed, relaxing the grip on your wrists and letting his hand slide behind your back. He cupped the back of your head, pulling you toward him, his dark gaze still holding you captive. Despite the haziness, you fought to meet his stare, feeling every ounce of your control slip further away.

You couldn’t help but notice the flush on his cheeks, the way his bangs clung to his forehead, and the tension in the muscles of his arms and torso.

He looked breathtaking like this.

You could tell he was close, breathing heavily and moaning against your skin before a deep shudder rolled through him. You watched with delight as his eyes fluttered shut, his head tipping back in pleasure as he stuffed you full with his seed. 

"Can I still keep the fur coat?" you asked, glancing up at Yunho with wide, pleading eyes. 

“No.”

⊹

“I think I might retire from hunting. Burning is much more efficient. Fun, even.”

“Fun?” he echoed, arching a brow as his dark eyes fixed on you. For a moment, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of you, his gaze studying your face like you were the only thing worth noticing amidst the chaos.

You held Yunho’s hand, your fingers intertwined with his, swinging idly as the two of you strolled away from the estate. Taking one last drag, he tossed the cigar, letting it tumble to the ground before igniting the trail of gasoline. A sudden rush of flames raced toward the manor, hungrily consuming the line of accelerant until it disappeared into the heart of the ballroom.

The pungent smell of smoke filled the air as you and Yunho made your way down the winding path from the Choi estate. Screams pierced the night as flames erupted within, and guests fled the grounds in a chaotic swarm, their tailored suits and gowns streaked with soot and ash as they stumbled across the manicured lawns.

You could feel the faint tremble of excitement in Yunho’s grip, the subtle way his thumb traced small circles against your knuckles.

“I mean, look at this,” you gestured at the inferno behind you as another section of the manor’s roof caved in. “There’s no need to clean up, no loose ends, and it’s efficient.”

Yunho’s eyes flicked back to the blaze, and for a moment, you caught a glimpse of something almost reverent in his expression. The heat, the destruction—it spoke to something deep within him, a hunger he tried to keep buried but could never fully ignore. He inhaled deeply, the scent of smoke filling his lungs, and his lips curved into a slow, almost dreamy smile.

“There’s instant satisfaction in destruction. I won’t have to feel bad about letting potential dolls go to waste,” you sighed, your tone carrying a faint edge. You were still a bit bitter about having to dispose of San. A pity, really.

But the things you do for love.

Yunho laughter rumbled through his chest as he pulled you closer.  “Looks like I’ve created a monster,” he mused, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

Behind you, the inferno raged on, the deep groans of the collapsing manor blending with the desperate cries of those escaping. But you both kept moving, the blaze fading into the distance as the night swallowed you whole.