I thought I had seen everything Woo-jin could throw at me. I was wrong.
One peaceful morning, I woke up not hearing nonsense or crazy humming if Woo-jin. I stretched my arms and yawn. I finally thought I was free from his wrath.
Oh boy, I was wrong.
It all started innocently enough. I woke up to a message:
𝐇𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐫 >< 🥰
𝐖𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐲 𝐖𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐲. 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞. 🤭🤭
𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐧𝐞𝐰𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐡 💅
𝐏𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐠𝐬. 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞𝐡 𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲😊😏.
My stomach sank. Modeling? With him?
Before I could reply, there was a knock at the door. And of course, it was him. Pink hair messy, grin wide enough to give me whiplash, holding two glossy invitations.
"Dae-hyun!" he announced. "You're coming with me. Big day. Don't ask questions."
"I—wait—what do you mean, coming with you?!"
He ignored me completely, tossing me the first glossy invitation. I blinked at it. The photoshoot was for a high-profile campaign… but there was a catch.
The theme? Couples in "extreme romance." And the outfits… oh hell no. The outfits.
"Cute, dashing, and very intimate," Woo-jin said casually, flipping through the portfolio. "You'll love it."
"I'll love. Oh yes totally." I stared at him with a smile and a tear escaping. "You're insane."
"Maybe," he admitted, twirling the brochure. "But also very persuasive. And you, my flustered husband, are obligated to come."
"Obligated?!" I yelled.
"Clause twenty-seven of our contract," he said smugly. "Totally real. You signed it… in spirit, maybe. Anyway, come on!"
"No. You just made it up. Why the he-"
Before I could protest further, he had grabbed my hand and practically dragged me out the door and push me in the car imprisoning me with a seatbelt. Like I'm a prisoner.
Did I even had a choice? If I refuse, I'll had to deal with one hell of his craziness or embarrassing me.
The studio was chaotic. Fans and photographers were already snapping shots of Woo-jin, while I stumbled in, trying not to trip over my own feet.
"Relax," Woo-jin whispered in my ear, adjusting my posture. "Just act natural. Smile. Look… in love. More… passionate."
My stomach flipped. "In… love?!"
"Yes, honeybear," he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from my forehead. "More chemistry. Closer."
"Oh hell no. I wil never do such fake act."
"We need to be more closer babeh." He smirked at me.
I froze. My heart was racing. His hand lingered a fraction too long on my shoulder. "W-What do you mean closer?"
"Chest to chest, obviously," he said, smirking like he had planned this exact moment for years.
I glared at him, mortified. The photographer shouted, "Perfect! That's the shot!"
I shoved him lightly, but of course, it backfired. He leaned closer, grin widening. "Oh, still resisting? I love that. Makes you even more adorable."
I groaned, wishing that the fans to murder me.
Hours passed in a blur of ridiculous poses, overly intimate stances, and Woo-jin's relentless teasing.
"Raise your eyebrows, Dae-hyun," he whispered in a sultry voice. "Look like you want me."
"I do NOT—"
"—I know," he interrupted, grinning. "It's cute how you think you can lie to me."
At one point, another model, a tall, confident alpha, tried to flirt with me as if I was an omega. Wait am I covered in omega pheromones? I froze, and Woo-jin's eyes narrowed in mock jealousy. He grabbed my hand, tugging me closer. "Nope. You're mine. Always mine."
I flushed bright red. "You're ridiculous!"
"Ridiculous?" He leaned down, voice low and teasing. "I prefer… charming. Handsome. Your personal nightmare."
"Shut up. This is exactly why you hate me."
"That just makes me love you even more!"
By the end of the shoot, my legs were wobbly, my cheeks were sore from blushing, and my patience had completely evaporated.
I tried to escape, thinking maybe I could slip away unnoticed.
But of course, Woo-jin was there. Waiting. Smiling. Arms crossed like a victorious omega.
"You're not going anywhere," he said softly, voice smooth and teasing. "I have… penalties for you. And I think it's time you pay them."
I froze. "…Penalties?"
His grin widened, dangerous and infuriating. "Yes. And don't even try to run, honeybear. You can't escape me."
My heart raced, my chest tightened, and somewhere deep down… I knew he was right.
The photographer shouted, "Ready for the final shot!"
And in that moment, as Woo-jin leaned impossibly close, whispering something in my ear that made me shiver, I realized… I might actually be trapped.
And then…
Click.
The camera flashed, capturing everything. My humiliation. My fluster. And the smirk on Woo-jin's face that promised chaos, teasing, and trouble like I'd never known.
The photographer clapped his hands. "Positions! Final shot!"
I froze, heart pounding. Woo-jin's hand was still brushing against mine, subtle but maddening.
"Chest closer," he whispered in that dangerous, teasing tone. "Just a little… closer."
I narrowed my eyes. "Closer? No. Absolutely not."
He smirked. "Oh, you're adorable when you resist." His fingers traced along the edge of my hand, sending heat straight to my core.
"W-Woo-jin!" I hissed, trying to pull away, but he was too quick. He leaned down, his lips barely grazing my ear. "Relax, honeybear. Just follow my lead."
I could feel my face burning. My legs threatened to give out under me. I wasn't just flustered—I was on the verge of a complete meltdown.
And then it happened.
The outfit.
The designer had insisted on a pair of ridiculously tight leather pants for me, claiming it would "accentuate my natural charm." Natural charm, my axx. I could barely walk without looking like a newborn deer on ice.
Woo-jin, of course, saw my struggle and laughed, loud and unapologetic. "Oh, honeybear, you're too cute, struggling like that. Lean into it! Look passionate!"
I groaned, shoving him lightly. "This is humiliating!"
He caught my hand mid-shove, tugging me closer. "Exactly. Humiliation builds character… and chemistry. Don't fight it."
I wanted to scream. Instead, I stumbled into the photographer's mark, nearly knocking over a tripod. "Careful! Watch it!" the photographer yelled.
Woo-jin just leaned down, brushing my hair from my face with a hand that lingered far too long. "See? You're perfect. Everyone's staring because you're irresistible."
I blinked at him, aghast. "…Irresistible? You're insane."
"Maybe," he admitted with a grin, "but your blush proves it. I won."
The shoot only got worse.
Another omega model tried to flirt with me, leaning dangerously close. I froze, unsure whether to push him away or run. Woo-jin noticed immediately.
"Excuse me," he said smoothly, slipping in between us. He pressed a hand lightly to my waist, eyes glinting. "This alpha is mine."
I felt myself burning red-hot from head to toe. "I—I can take care of myself!"
"Oh, honeybear," he whispered, brushing his lips close to my ear, "I know. But it's more fun when I do it for you." Then he licked my eats.
I shoved his hand way from my ears.
I couldn't breathe. Not just from embarrassment, but from the sheer tension in the air. Every step, every touch, every teasing word made my stomach twist.
By the time the photographer yelled, "Perfect! That's a wrap!" I was trembling, exhausted, and utterly mortified.
I tried to escape, hoping to slip out before Woo-jin could corner me again.
Ha. As if.
He was waiting at the door, hands in his pockets, that infuriating grin back in place. "Going somewhere?"
"Nowhere," I muttered, glaring at him. "I—I need air."
He stepped closer, lowering his voice just enough to make my knees weaken. "You can't leave yet, honeybear. We still have… penalties."
"…Penalties?" My stomach sank.
"Yes." He leaned impossibly close, whispering, "And I think you know what happens when you don't obey."
I swallowed hard. My pulse was racing. My chest was tight. And for the first time that day, I realized… I might not escape him this time. I always say this.
The camera flashed once, capturing the moment—the heat, the tension, the blush creeping across my face. And Woo-jin's smirk… that infuriating, victorious smirk… told me everything.
I was trapped.
And I didn't even know whether to laugh or cry.
I stumbled toward the exit, trying to gather my dignity, only to feel a hand gently, but firmly, on my shoulder.
"Not so fast, honeybear," Woo-jin murmured, voice low and teasing. "We're not done yet."
"…Done? We're done. The shoot is over," I said, trying to push him off—but his grip was stronger than I expected.
"Yes, the shoot is over," he replied smoothly, leaning closer, so close I could feel the warmth of his chest. "But the fun? That's only just the beginning."
I froze. My heart was pounding in my chest, my face burning hotter by the second. I opened my mouth to protest, but he cut me off with that infuriating grin.
"You know," he said softly, almost conspiratorially, "penalties from our little contract aren't optional. And I think it's time you start paying yours."
I blinked at him, my pulse racing, unsure whether to groan, laugh, or scream.
"And don't even think about running," he whispered, brushing a strand of my red hair from my forehead. "You can't escape me, honeybear."
I wanted to argue. I wanted to leave. I wanted to collapse into the nearest corner and hide.
But the truth was… I couldn't look away.
He smirked, straightening up, hand still lingering near mine. His eyes sparkled with mischief, teasing, and something… else. Something that made my chest tighten and my thoughts spin in ways I refused to admit.
I swallowed hard, trying to steady my voice. "…Woo-jin. You're impossible."
"And yet," he said, voice soft, almost victorious, "here you are. Still stuck with me."
"All you ever do is ruin my reputation!" I shouted.
"Reputation isn't important. So don't talk such nonsense. My love is more than reputation." He tighten his grip.
I groaned, turning my face away, but it was useless. He had me cornered—physically, mentally, emotionally.
As I glanced back at him, I realized something: I wasn't just flustered, embarrassed, or humiliated. I was… trapped. Completely, utterly trapped.
And I had a sinking feeling that whatever happened next… I wasn't going anywhere.
The camera flash from earlier still burned in my mind, freezing the memory of my reddened face, my flustered stance… and Woo-jin's smirk.
I wanted to run. I wanted to fight. I wanted to scream.
But deep down… I knew I would never get away from him.
Not now. Not ever.
And that realization made my stomach twist in ways I wasn't ready to admit.
I want to cry. I really do.