DARK CHEMISTRY
Lizzie stared at her phone in pure horror.
Her message sat there innocently on the screen:
"Idiot."
Sent. Delivered. Seen.
She slapped a hand over her mouth.
"NO NO NO—AUTOCORRECT WHY WOULD YOU—?!"
Before she could even type another word, Daniel's reply appeared instantly:
"You'll regret that… in my way."
Lizzie froze.
Her whole soul left her body.
She knew exactly what "his way" meant.
Punishment.
Possessive.
Slow.
Calculated.
And usually involving her pinned somewhere she couldn't escape.
She typed frantically:
"YES I DID—"
But a tiny clock icon appeared beside the message.
Not sent.
Her network was gone.
"No no no no—SEND!!" she whispered, shaking her phone like it might magically obey.
Too late.
Three dots appeared.
Vanished.
Appeared again.
He was thinking.
He was enjoying this.
Her phone buzzed again.
Daniel:
"Keep your door locked. I'm coming."
Lizzie's heart did a whole gymnastics routine.
She looked at the door.
Looked at the phone.
Looked at the door again.
"Oh… I'm so doomed."
She scrambled around the dorm in panic—checking the lock twice, thrice—then hugging a pillow like it would protect her from a mafia boss with siren eyes and a possessive streak longer than her lifespan.
Another notification.
Daniel:
"Five minutes."
Lizzie almost fainted.
Her brain: I can jump out the window.
Her heart: But he'll catch you mid-air.
Her soul: Accept your fate.
The knock came sooner than expected—slow, deliberate, dangerous.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
"Lizzie," his voice slid through the wood like velvet and threat mixed together,
"open the door."
And she knew…
She had no escape.
Lizzie's hand shook as she reached for the doorknob.
She swallowed hard, heart thundering against her ribs as if trying to warn her:
DON'T OPEN IT. RUN. ESCAPE.
But her fingers moved anyway—like they belonged to him already.
The lock clicked.
The door opened only halfway before he pushed it the rest of the way, stepping inside with that slow, terrifying confidence that made the entire room shrink around him.
Daniel closed the door behind him… and locked it.
Lizzie's breath caught.
He didn't look angry.
That was worse.
He looked amused.
Dangerously amused.
His eyes dropped to her—taking in her oversized T-shirt, messy hair, tiny dorm slippers.
Then his gaze lifted back to her face, and he tilted his head.
"Idiot?" he murmured.
Lizzie nearly choked.
"I—I didn't mean—my autocorrect—my phone—NETWORK PROBLEM—"
He took one step closer.
She took one step back.
He took another.
She bumped into her study desk.
Trapped.
Daniel placed one hand on the desk beside her hip, caging her, leaning in just enough that she could feel the warmth of his breath on her cheek.
"You think I'm an idiot?" he whispered, his voice low enough to make her stomach flip.
"I SWEAR IT WAS AUTOCORRECT—" she blurted.
He smirked.
That smirk.
The one that promised nothing safe.
"With network issues?" he murmured, brushing a thumb along her jaw. "Lizzie… don't lie to me."
Her knees felt like noodles.
"I—I'm not lying—"
"Hmm." His lips grazed her ear. "Then you won't mind accepting your punishment."
Lizzie froze.
"Punishment??"
He nodded slowly, fingers sliding behind her waist, pulling her just an inch closer.
"For calling your teacher an idiot."
His voice dropped even lower.
"And for thinking that little locked door could keep me away."
Lizzie's breath hitched.
"W-What kind of punishment…?"
He leaned down, brushing his lips against her jaw—not a kiss, just a dangerous promise.
"The kind," he whispered, "where you don't get to breathe properly for a while."
Lizzie squeaked.
"I'M SORRY—"
He cut her apology off by pressing a finger to her lips.
"No," he murmured, eyes darkening, "you're sorry after."
He tugged her closer—her chest against his, her breath caught, her cheeks burning.
"Now," he whispered, "look at me and say it."
"Say what?" she whispered.
He smiled, slow and wicked.
"Call me an idiot again."
Lizzie opened her mouth.
She meant to say "You're not an idiot."
She really did.
But her brain—traitor.
Her tongue—double traitor.
Her nerves—absolute villain.
And what came out was:
"…D-Daddy."
Silence.
Total, earth-stopping silence.
Daniel froze.
Lizzie froze.
Even the air in the room went into cardiac arrest.
Her eyes widened so hard they almost fell out.
"I—I—I DIDN'T MEAN—THAT WASN'T—AUTOCORRECT–NO NOT AUTOCORRECT—MY BRAIN—STOP—"
But it was too late.
Something in him shifted.
His jaw clenched.
His eyes darkened so fast she swore the lights flickered.
That dangerous silence wrapped around her body like steel chains.
"Lizzie," he said slowly, voice thick and uneven, "say it again."
Her whole soul left the chat.
"No!! I—I didn't mean it—"
He stepped closer.
She stepped back—straight into the edge of her bed.
Daniel leaned in, his forehead brushing hers, eyes locked on hers like she belonged to him.
"Say. It. Again."
Lizzie shook her head like a terrified hamster.
"No no no no no—"
He grabbed her waist and pulled her into him, making her gasp.
"You call me 'idiot,' then 'Daddy,'" he murmured, breath hot against her ear, "do you enjoy giving me heart attacks?"
Lizzie squeaked.
"I'M SORRY IT WAS A SLIP OF THE TONGUE—"
He chuckled—a low, deep sound that made her knees give up on life.
"A slip of the tongue?"
His fingers brushed the back of her neck, slow and deliberate.
"That's not what it sounded like."
"Daniel—please—stop teasing me—"
"I'm not teasing," he said, voice dipping even lower.
"Now I'm curious."
She hid her face in her hands.
"I want to disappear—"
He gently pulled her hands away from her face, holding her wrists to his chest.
"Look at me."
She shook her head.
He whispered, "Lizzie."
And she looked up.
He leaned even closer, lips grazing her cheek.
"You call me that again," he murmured, "and I swear… you won't survive what happens next."
Lizzie's heart thudded like it wanted to file a police report.
She swallowed.
"D-Don't make me say it…"
His smirk deepened.
"Oh, angel," he whispered, brushing his thumb over her lower lip,
"I'm not making you."
"But after hearing it once…"
His voice broke into a low growl.
"…I want it again."
Daniel's eyes gleamed with that dangerous, absolutely illegal mix of amusement and dominance that made Lizzie's stomach fall into the Earth's core.
He loosened his hold on her wrists—
only to slip his fingers under her chin, lifting her face up toward him.
"Lizzie," he said softly.
Too softly.
Way-too-softly.
The kind of softly that meant danger.
"You're going to say it again."
Lizzie shook her head fast, like a toy bobblehead glitching.
"N-No! I REALLY didn't mean—"
His thumb brushed her bottom lip.
She froze.
"Angel," he murmured, "say it."
"No—"
He leaned closer until his breath ghosted over her neck, sending a shiver blasting down her spine.
"Say it," he repeated, voice darkening, "or I'll make you say worse."
Lizzie choked on air.
"W-WORSE? WHAT DOES THAT EVEN—"
Daniel smirked.
"Don't test me."
Her whole soul evaporated.
He leaned down, lips brushing the shell of her ear—
and whispered in a voice that turned her to pudding:
"Five seconds."
Lizzie's heart stopped.
"WAIT WAIT WAIT—"
"Four."
She scrambled back but he followed like a shadow.
"Three."
"Daniel—PLEASE—"
"Two."
She held her breath.
"One."
He grabbed her waist, lifted her slightly, and pinned her against the wall so gently yet so possessively she almost fainted.
"Last chance, sweetheart," he whispered, eyes locked on hers.
"Say it. Properly."
Lizzie's voice trembled.
"…D—Da—"
His thumb pressed lightly against her hip, sending a jolt through her.
"Louder."
"…Da—Dad—"
His eyes darkened further, his patience thinning deliciously.
"Lizzie."
She broke.
"Daddy…"
Silence.
His breath hitched.
Something sharp, primal, and wicked flashed across his face.
"Oh, angel," he exhaled, "you're finished."
Lizzie's brain: 💀💀💀
Daniel's lips were on hers before she even finished breathing.
A long, deep, slow kiss—
the kind that melted every muscle in her body
the kind that made time tilt
the kind that made her knees forget how to exist.
Lizzie clutched the front of his shirt without thinking,
her tiny squeak escaping into his mouth.
He kissed her deeper.
Slow.
Patient.
Consuming.
Like he had all the time in the world and she was the only breath he needed.
Lizzie's mind went soft, warm, floating—
and without realizing, without thinking, without ANY filter left in her system—
she whispered into his mouth:
"Daddy… don't stop…"
The world froze.
Daniel did too.
His breath caught mid-kiss, his lips still hovering against hers, his fingers tightening on her waist with a sharp inhale.
Slowly—
very slowly—
he pulled back just enough to see her face.
Lizzie's eyes widened a fraction.
Daniel's gaze dropped to her trembling lips, then lifted back up, darker than she had ever seen before.
"Lizzie," he said in a low rasp,
"you have no idea what you just did."
She swallowed—hard.
"I—I didn't mean—"
He leaned in again, lips brushing hers but not kissing this time, teasing her with barely-there contact.
"No," he whispered,
"you meant it."
Lizzie's heart tried to escape her ribcage.
"Daniel—"
He tilted her chin up with two fingers.
"Say it again."
Her breath hitched.
"I—I didn't—"
He brushed his lips against the corner of her mouth, slow and devastating.
"Say it again," he murmured, "or I won't stop."
Lizzie's soul left her body.
Daniel's breath stayed right against her cheek—
warm, steady, claiming—
and Lizzie couldn't make her lungs work.
Her heart felt like it was punching holes in her chest.
"I'm waiting," he murmured.
His tone wasn't angry.
It wasn't teasing either.
It was gentle…
dangerously gentle…
the kind that made her knees wobble because he wasn't forcing her—
he was letting her choose.
Lizzie's fingers curled weakly into his shirt.
"I… I didn't mean to say it," she whispered, voice trembling.
Daniel hummed—soft, low, too calm.
"Then why," he said quietly, "are you shaking like you did?"
Lizzie froze.
He leaned in, brushing his nose lightly against her temple.
A touch so soft yet so overwhelming her breath hitched.
"I won't make you," he whispered.
"But if it slipped out that naturally…"
His hand slid to the small of her back, steady, guiding but not pulling.
"…then maybe," he continued softly, "you're braver than you think."
Lizzie felt heat crawl up her neck.
Her voice cracked.
"Daniel…"
He pulled back enough to look into her eyes.
Not lust.
Not anger.
Something deeper.
Something warm and terrifyingly tender.
"You don't have to say anything," he said gently.
"When you're ready, you will."
Lizzie's entire body loosened with relief—
until he added, in a soft, low whisper that made her spine give up:
"And when you do… don't expect me to stay calm."
Lizzie almost fell.
Daniel caught her instantly, steadying her with a hand at her waist.
"I said I wouldn't force you," he murmured, tilting her face up carefully,
"not that I wouldn't react."
He pressed a soft kiss—
not on her mouth—
but on her forehead.
Slow.
Meaningful.
Heart–stopping.
Her breath stuttered.
Daniel pulled back with a small, warm smile…
the kind that made her heart melt and panic at the same time.
"Come on," he said gently.
"You still have a dorm to finish decorating."
He squeezed her hand once—light, reassuring—
then started guiding her out of the room.
Lizzie followed quietly…
But her mind?
Absolutely screaming.