lost-in-thoughts03 - Tumblr blog

lost-in-thoughts03 · 11 days ago

Text

Falling for you // Hwang brothers

Previous part || Next Part

Summary: Following his earlier stunts with his brother, you will be In-ho's nurse tonight.

" When the smoke is in your eyes, you look so alive."

Warnings: Teasing, In-ho being In-ho, teasing, kissing, confrontation, confusion, hesitation, grammatical errors

" You’re an idiot, you know that?" You muttered, pressing the ice pack a little too hard against In-ho’s swollen cheek.

" Ow, ow, ow! Damn it, Y/n, are you trying to help or finish what my brother started?" In-ho hissed, his body jerking slightly at the cold sting.

You shot him a glare but eased up—only a little. " Maybe if you didn’t taunt Jun-ho every chance you get, you wouldn’t be sitting here with a bruised face and a wounded ego."

In-ho rolled his eyes, leaning back against the couch. " Oh, come on. It’s not my fault he has a stick up his—"

" In-ho." Your tone was sharp, warning.

He smirked despite the pain. " Alright, alright. I may have pushed him a little too far."

You gave him a deadpan stare. " You literally asked for the punch, didn’t you?"

A beat of silence. Then, In-ho grinned. " I mean…technically, yes. But in my defense, it was hilarious."

You sighed in frustration, shaking your head. " Unbelievable." You adjusted the ice pack again, being a little gentler this time, even as he shamelessly smirked up at you.

But while you were busy playing nurse,

In-ho wasn’t paying attention to his injury anymore.

No, he was too distracted by you.

The way your brows furrowed in concentration.

The way your lips pursed ever so slightly when you were annoyed.

The way you fussed over him, completely unaware of how ridiculously adorable you looked doing it.

God, you were beautiful. Even when you were mad at him. Especially when you were mad at him.

His gaze flickered down to your lips, the memory of your kiss from before haunting him. He bit the inside of his cheek hard, forcing himself to stay still.

Because if he wasn’t careful, if he let his impulses win, he would kiss you again. And again.

And again.

Until you forgot about his damn brother.

Until he was the only thing on your mind.

You sighed, oblivious to his thoughts. " You and Jun-ho need to stop fighting like kids."

In-ho smirked. " And yet, here you are. Taking care of me instead of him."

You scoffed, glaring at him. " Only because you’re too stubborn to take care of yourself."

His grin widened, his fingers twitching with the urge to reach out and tuck that stray strand of hair behind your ear. " Sure. Let’s go with that."

You rolled your eyes, but he didn’t miss the way your cheeks warmed slightly.

Maybe, just maybe, he still had a chance.

In-ho shifted slightly on the couch, his fingers rubbing at his bruised cheek as he let out a dramatic sigh.

" Ahh…the pain…It’s unbearable."

You barely spared him a glance, still holding the ice pack against his face. " You’re fine, In-ho. Stop being so dramatic."

" Fine?" He gasped, placing a hand over his heart like you had just mortally wounded him. " Y/n, how could you? After everything we’ve been through?"

You rolled your eyes. " All we’ve been through is you getting punched in the face because you can’t keep your mouth shut."

He huffed but then suddenly winced, grabbing his cheek. " Ow…ow! Ah, maybe…maybe you’re too close. Yeah, that must be it."

Before you could even process what he meant, he grabbed your waist and pulled you forward—right onto his lap.

Your breath hitched, eyes going wide. " I-In-ho?! What the hell?!"

You tried to scramble away, but his arms snaked around you, locking you in place as he let out a pitiful groan. " No sudden movements! I’m injured, Y/n! You wouldn’t hurt a poor, helpless man, would you?"

Your whole body tensed, heat creeping up your neck as you sat awkwardly between his legs. " Oh, give me a break!" You squirmed, hands pushing against his shoulders, but he only held on tighter.

He let out a sniffle—completely fake, but he was really selling it. " Y/n, please. Just heal my wounds. I’m suffering."

You glared at him. " I swear, if this is another one of your—"

" Here." He pointed to his swollen cheek, cutting you off. " Right here. Kiss it better."

You froze, your stomach flipping. " W-what?!"

" You heard me." His lips curled into a cheeky grin, though his expression still carried the remnants of fake sadness.

" A little healing magic from your lips, and I’ll be all better."

Your face burned. "Absolutely not!"

His lower lip jutted out in an exaggerated pout. " Please, Y/n. I need you."

Your glare sharpened. " In-ho."

" Come on." He tapped his cheek, smirking now.

" Just a tiny—"

" Fine!" You huffed, giving in just to shut him up.

" If it’ll get you to stop whining—"

You leaned in, your face close to his as you carefully examined the bruised area.

His smirk faltered for just a second as your breath ghosted over his skin, the warmth of your presence pressing in on him.

For a split second, the teasing melted away.

But then—

Press!

Before you could react, In-ho suddenly turned his head and pressed his lips against your cheek.

You squealed—actually squealed—before you leaped off his lap, stumbling backward so fast you nearly tripped over the coffee table.

" IN-HO!" Your hands flew to your burning cheeks as you gawked at him in pure horror.

He just grinned, looking way too satisfied with himself. " What? You were the one leaning in so close. I thought I’d return the favor."

Your eye twitched. " You absolute pervert!"

You grabbed the nearest pillow and launched it at his face. It smacked him right in the nose, knocking his head back against the couch.

" Ow!" He laughed through his pain, pushing the pillow aside just in time for you to grab another one. " Whoa—hey, I’m injured!"

" You sure as hell weren’t injured enough to pull that stunt!"

He dodged the second pillow, still laughing, his grin wide and teasing. " Oh, come on, Y/n. Don’t pretend you didn’t like it."

" I will kill you."

He leaned back against the couch, completely unfazed. " Well, if I die, at least I’ll die happy."

You groaned in frustration, grabbing another pillow just as he winked at you.

And for the first time since the whole mess with him and Jun-ho started…you felt something other than confusion.

Something wild. Annoying. Infuriating.

And maybe—just maybe—a little exciting.

You stood there, gripping the pillow so tightly your fingers ached, your chest rising and falling with frustration.

In-ho, the smug bastard, was still lounging against the couch, his grin infuriatingly wide, his dark eyes gleaming with mischief.

" You’re fucking impossible." You huffed, debating whether to throw another pillow or just strangle him with it.

He chuckled, rubbing his cheek like your touch still lingered there. " And yet, here you are. Still taking care of me."

You scoffed, spinning on your heel. " Not anymore. Find someone else to baby you."

Before you could storm off, a firm hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you back. Not forcefully, not aggressively—but enough to make your heart stutter.

" Wait."

Your breath caught as you turned, now standing between his legs, far too close.

His grip loosened but didn’t let go, his playful smirk dimming slightly into something softer…something more dangerous.

You swallowed hard. " What?"

His eyes flickered over your face—your lips, your flushed cheeks, the way your chest rose and fell with unsteady breaths.

His usual teasing demeanor wavered, as if something more serious lurked beneath it.

" You’re mad." He murmured.

" No shit, In-ho."

He laughed quietly, tilting his head. " But not just because I kissed you."

Your pulse pounded. " Obviously that’s part of it!"

" But not all of it." His voice lowered, his thumb brushing absently against your wrist.

" If it was just a kiss, you’d have walked away already."

You stiffened. He was too damn perceptive. It made you uneasy.

" You’re overthinking it." You muttered, trying to pull away.

His fingers tightened slightly. " Or maybe you’re the one overthinking things."

Your heartbeat slammed against your ribs.

This wasn’t fair. He wasn’t supposed to look at you like that—like he knew something you didn’t.

Like he was waiting for you to figure it out.

" In-ho." You said warningly.

He smirked again, but there was something different behind it this time. Something knowing.

" Tell me to stop, Y/n." His voice was smooth, quiet—so quiet it sent a shiver up your spine.

Your lips parted, but the words wouldn’t come out.

Because for some reason…you weren’t sure you wanted him to.

The air between you was thick, crackling with something electric. His fingers finally let go of your wrist, but you didn’t step back.

You should have.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you just stood there, trapped in a moment that felt far too dangerous.

...

Your pulse hammered in your ears, drowning out every rational thought. In-ho was watching you like a hunter sizing up his prey, his smirk lazy, confident—like he knew you weren’t going to push him away.

And that pissed you off even more.

You should have stepped back. You should have thrown another pillow at his smug face and stormed out.

But instead, you stood there, frozen, caught in the invisible thread of tension strung tight between you.

" In-ho." You finally muttered, though it didn’t sound like much of a warning anymore.

" Hmm?" His head tilted slightly, his dark eyes drinking you in, amused but…curious. Almost as if he was waiting.

You swallowed, trying to shake the feeling that you were being tested. That if you gave even an inch, he’d pull you in further, past the point of no return.

So, you tried to play it cool. You scoffed, crossing your arms. " You tell me—what exactly is your endgame here?"

His grin widened. " What makes you think I have one?"

You rolled your eyes. " Because you always do."

His fingers drummed against his knee, his posture relaxed, like he was enjoying this—watching you squirm, watching you think too hard about what was happening between you two.

Then, he leaned forward just slightly, closing what little distance remained.

" What if I told you…" He murmured, his voice low and smooth, " That I just like messing with you?"

Your breath caught.

Liar.

You glared at him, refusing to be the first one to break. " Then I’d say you’re a damn liar."

In-ho chuckled, his grin widening. " Smart girl."

And then—so casually it made your stomach flip—he reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingertips grazing the side of your face.

You stiffened.

That bastard.

" You—"

" Shh." His voice was barely above a whisper now, his smirk softening into something more unreadable. " You think too much, Y/n."

Your heart pounded as his thumb barely brushed your cheekbone. It was such a light touch, barely even there—but it burned.

His eyes flickered to your lips, just for a second.

And that was what finally made you snap out of it.

You slapped his hand away, face burning. " You think too much!" You grabbed the nearest pillow and smacked him in the face again, harder this time.

" Ow! Damn it, Y/n!" He laughed, shielding himself as you swung at him again. " Alright, alright! You win!"

" You’re so annoying!" You huffed, finally dropping the pillow as you took a much-needed step back, putting some space between you.

In-ho just grinned, rubbing his arm where you had hit him. " And yet, you still haven’t walked away."

You clenched your jaw. " Not because I like this little game of yours, if that’s what you’re thinking!"

His smirk was dangerous. " No?"

You turned on your heel. " No!"

In-ho just laughed as you stormed off, his voice teasing and smooth as ever.

" You will eventually, Y/n."

You didn’t turn around.

Because you had a horrible feeling that he wasn’t wrong.

You whirled back around so fast In-ho barely had time to react before you smacked his arm again.

" Ow! Damn it, Y/n!" He winced, grabbing his arm. " You’re gonna bruise me more than Jun-ho did!"

" Good!" You fumed, pointing a finger at him. " Because this is your fault! All of this is your fault!"

He blinked, looking far too amused. " Wait, what exactly are we blaming me for now?"

" You kissed me!" you snapped, crossing your arms. " You kept kissing me! And because of that, Jun-ho saw—"

In-ho’s smirk widened, his dark eyes glinting. " Ohhh. So that’s what this is about."

You scowled. " Yes!"

He leaned back against the couch, completely unbothered. " And? What’s the problem?"

" The problem," you seethed, " is that Jun-ho probably hates me now!"

In-ho outright laughed, shaking his head. " Hates you? Y/n, don’t be ridiculous."

You gritted your teeth. " Oh, I’m the ridiculous one? You’re the one who—who just—" You threw your hands in the air. " What were you thinking?!"

His smirk never faltered. " That it was the most beautiful, hottest thing I’ve ever experienced."

Your jaw dropped. " You absolute—!"

" And, actually," he cut in smoothly, tilting his head, " we should do it again. You know, for scientific purposes."

You smacked his arm again.

" Ow!" He groaned, rubbing his shoulder dramatically. " Alright, alright! Damn, you’ve got an arm on you—"

" Why—" You poked his chest, fuming. " Why didn’t you stop when Jun-ho walked in?!"

In-ho let out a quiet chuckle, his expression shifting slightly—still teasing, but something deeper lurking beneath it.

" Because…" He said smoothly, " I wanted him to see."

Your breath hitched.

Your stomach twisted.

Your mind went blank.

What?!

You blinked at him, completely thrown off. " What did you just say?"

His smirk was slower this time, more deliberate. " I saw him enter the room, Y/n."

You stiffened. " You knew?"

He nodded, still watching you like he was waiting for you to catch up.

" You—" You exhaled sharply, stepping back like you needed space to process. " You knew Jun-ho was there. And you just—"

" Kept kissing you?" In-ho supplied, arching a brow. " Yeah. I did."

Your pulse pounded. " Why?"

His expression darkened slightly—not in a cruel way, but in that intense, unreadable way that made your stomach churn.

" Because I wanted my stupid brother to see exactly what he wasted."

His voice was calm, but there was something sharp beneath it.

" To see what he let slip right through his fingers."

Your lips parted, but no words came out.

In-ho leaned in slightly, watching your reaction, his tone dropping to something almost mocking. " Isn’t that what you wanted?"

Your breath caught. " What?"

" You wanted him to see you, didn’t you?" His gaze flickered over your face, reading you like an open book.

" You spent all that time waiting, hoping he’d finally notice you."

Your stomach tightened. " That’s not—"

He cut you off with a low chuckle. " Well, congratulations, sweetheart. He noticed."

Your heart slammed against your ribs.

You hated how easily he picked you apart, how his words hit exactly where they hurt.

And worst of all?

You hated that he was right.

You were still gripping the pillow like it was a lifeline, your knuckles white with frustration. In-ho, meanwhile, sat there looking way too entertained for someone who had just gotten smacked multiple times.

" You know what, In-ho?" You inhaled sharply, voice tight with emotion.

" None of this even matters because Jun-ho likes someone else!"

For a moment, silence.

Then—

In-ho laughed.

Not just a chuckle. Not a smirk.

A full-blown, head-thrown-back, actual laugh.

You blinked. " What the hell is so funny?!"

He shook his head, still laughing, and before you could react, he grabbed a pillow and chucked it right at your head.

It hit you with a soft thud, knocking you slightly off balance.

" What the— In-ho!" You threw it back at him, but he just batted it away, still grinning.

" You—" He pointed at you, shaking his head with amusement. " You are actually so stupid."

Your mouth fell open. " Excuse me?!"

He scoffed, crossing his arms. " No, seriously. You and my brother? Perfect match. Stupid partners. Completely clueless."

You clenched your fists, ready to launch into another rant, but In-ho just leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his smirk dimming slightly into something sharper.

" But I can’t let that happen." He added smoothly.

Your breath caught.

Something about the way he said it sent a chill up your spine.

You swallowed, forcing your voice to stay steady. " Why?"

He tilted his head, almost like he was debating how much he wanted to say. Then, with a dramatic sigh, he gestured toward you. " Because I refuse to let my dumbass brother ruin something he doesn’t even realize he wants."

You frowned. " In-ho—"

" You’re blind, Y/n." He cut you off, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. " And let me tell you something about being blind."

He leaned in closer, his tone turning almost… mocking.

" It leads you the wrong way." He said slowly, like he was spelling it out for you.

" You’ll walk and walk, thinking you’re headed the right direction, but then—bam!" He clapped his hands together, making you flinch.

" You’ve stepped into the wrong damn line, and guess what? You realize—too late—that in the end, you’re the one who’s gonna get hurt."

You stared at him, your chest tightening.

He wasn’t smiling anymore.

The teasing glint in his eyes had dulled into something else entirely—something unreadable, something that made your stomach twist in ways you didn’t like.

For the first time since this entire argument started…you didn’t have a comeback.

Because a small, terrifying part of you knew—

He might actually be right.

You didn’t know what to say.

In-ho was staring at you, his usual cocky grin replaced with something quieter—something serious.

And that scared you more than all his teasing combined.

Your fingers curled at your sides, your chest rising and falling as you tried to process everything.

" I’m not blind." You finally muttered, but it didn’t even sound convincing to yourself.

In-ho let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. " Sure, sweetheart. Keep telling yourself that."

You glared at him, trying to latch onto your frustration instead of the other emotions clawing at your chest. " You don’t get to decide what I feel, In-ho."

He arched his brow. " Oh, I don’t?"

" No!"

He exhaled through his nose, looking up at the ceiling like he was trying to summon patience.

Then, suddenly, his gaze snapped back to yours, sharper than before.

" Alright then." He said smoothly, his tone dripping with challenge.

" Answer me this, Y/n—if my brother really liked someone else, why the hell would he react the way he did?"

You swallowed hard. " What?"

" You heard me." He tilted his head.

" If Jun-ho truly, actually wanted someone else, why did he look like you ripped his damn heart out when he saw us kissing?"

Your breath hitched.

You remembered that look on Jun-ho’s face.

The flash of pain in his eyes.

The way he clenched his jaw so hard, like he was physically stopping himself from saying something.

You hated remembering it because…because it meant something.

Something you weren’t ready to admit.

In-ho watched you carefully, taking in every shift in your expression. His smirk returned, but this time, it was slower, more knowing.

" You felt it, didn’t you?" He murmured, his voice quieter now, more dangerous.

You stiffened. " Felt what?"

" The moment he saw us." In-ho leaned forward, his dark eyes pinning you in place.

" You felt the way he looked at you. The way he felt about you."

Your throat went dry.

No. No, no, no.

This wasn’t happening. You weren’t doing this.

You weren’t falling into In-ho’s trap, letting him dig up things you had worked so damn hard to ignore.

You took a shaky breath, shaking your head. " Even if he does feel something, it doesn’t matter."

In-ho narrowed his eyes. " Why?"

" Because!" Your voice came out sharper than you intended.

" I don’t want to make assumptions, okay? I don’t want to be hurt anymore because of my delusions!"

The words felt bitter coming out.

Like they had been buried in your chest for far too long.

In-ho studied you for a long moment.

Then, with a small scoff, he leaned back against the couch, crossing his arms. " And that’s exactly why I won’t let you waste your time on him."

Your heart pounded. " In-ho—"

" No." His voice was firm, final. " I told you already, Y/n—I see you." His gaze flickered over your face, unreadable.

" He doesn’t."

You swallowed, your breath unsteady.

In-ho exhaled a slow breath, his smirk returning—though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

" But don’t worry." He added, his tone dipping into something smooth, teasing—but laced with something else, something darker.

" I’ll make sure you see me, too."

Your heart stopped.

Before you could react, In-ho suddenly stood up, stepping closer—too close.

Your breath hitched, and instinctively, you took a step back, but his hand reached out, fingers lightly brushing against your wrist—just enough to remind you that he was there.

" Be careful, sweetheart." He murmured, tilting his head.

" You might just realize you were looking at the wrong brother all along."

And with that, he smirked—like he had won—before casually turning on his heel and strolling out of the room, leaving you standing there—stunned, breathless, and utterly wrecked.

You barely had time to react before In-ho’s hands cupped your jaw, his fingers warm against your skin. His grip was firm—but not forceful—as he leaned in, his breath fanning across your lips.

Then—he kissed you.

For the fourth time—you don't know anymore.

Your mind screamed at you to pull away, to stop this madness before it went too far—but your body? Your body betrayed you.

His lips moved against yours with a kind of confidence that made your stomach twist. It wasn’t rushed or desperate—no, it was deliberate.

A slow, claiming kiss that sent fire through your veins.

You pressed your palms against his chest, intending to push him away, but he was faster.

His hands slid down, gripping your waist, and just as you parted your lips to protest, he took the opening—his tongue slipping into your mouth, stealing the very breath from your lungs.

You gasped—and he smirked against your lips.

The bastard was enjoying this.

Heat rushed through your body as the kiss deepened. His tongue tangled with yours, teasing, coaxing, completely unapologetic in the way he kissed you like he had all the time in the world.

Like he had already won.

You should have pushed him away.

You shouldn’t have let this happen again.

And yet—

Your fingers curled against his shirt instead of shoving him back.

Because damn it—it felt good.

In-ho groaned softly, tilting his head to deepen the kiss even further, and for a moment, just a moment, you lost yourself in him.

Then—finally—he pulled away, his lips lingering near yours as he caught his breath.

Your chest was heaving. Your lips felt swollen.

And In-ho?

He looked infuriatingly smug.

A smirk painted across his lips, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he studied you—like he was committing this moment to memory.

Then, in a voice lower, softer than usual, he said,

" I may look like a player, but I swear to you, Y/n—I will never play your heart."

Your breath hitched.

His smirk faded slightly, replaced by something raw—something that made your heart pound in ways you weren’t ready to acknowledge.

" You’re the only reason it keeps beating." He murmured.

Your stomach twisted violently.

Before you could open your mouth—before you could say anything—he leaned in again, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered,

" Whether you give me a chance or not—I won’t give up."

A shiver ran down your spine.

His voice was smooth, calm—but there was an edge to it.

A quiet determination that sent your pulse skyrocketing.

" I’m going to claim you, sweetheart."

His fingers trailed down your arm before he finally stepped back.

Your breath caught.

His smirk returned, slow and knowing.

" You’re just too blind to see it yet."

And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there—heart racing, lips tingling, and your mind completely wrecked.

N/A: Y/n and Jun-ho met when they were 16. In-ho, on the other hand, began to like her when she reached her legal age—around the time Y/n was in her twenties. (I need to clarify this to avoid misunderstandings between the characters)

Y/n ang Jun-ho's age right now: 23 (college students)

In-ho's age right now: 30 (I need to lower down his age to make it more accurate)

Question: If you were in the same situation as Y/n, who would you choose? Then why? I need to know your thoughts, and I enjoy reading your responses.

Jun-ho may have a deeper reason for being a jerk to her. Let's see.

Tags: @maah-sama @colorwastaken @tasias-world @pearing @sweetsbyniah @coruja12345

See u in part 9. 😉

170 notes · View notes

lost-in-thoughts03 · 15 days ago

Text

Falling for you // Hwang brothers

Previous part || Next part

Summary: Reality constantly confuses you. Who will you choose?

" And maybe you, change your mind."

Warning: Thick tension, heated kiss, confession, beating, arguing, more teasing, In-ho is being In-ho, Jun-ho realized something, broken hearted, pain, rejection, realization, grammatical errors

Love moves in ways we can’t always understand. Sometimes, it sneaks up on you, soft and quiet, like the warmth of the sun on a cold morning. Other times, it crashes into your life like a storm, wrecking everything you thought you knew about yourself.

It doesn’t care about timing. It doesn’t wait for you to be ready. It finds you in the most unexpected places—maybe in the eyes of someone you never thought you'd love or in the touch of a hand you can’t seem to forget.

It can make you feel invincible, like you’ve finally found the missing piece of your soul. But it can also break you, leave you aching for something—or someone—you can’t have.

Love lingers in the spaces between words, in the glances that last too long, in the silences filled with everything left unsaid. It stays even when you try to walk away. It makes a home in your heart, even when it has no right to be there.

And sometimes, love is cruel. It asks you to wait, to sacrifice, to fight battles you never wanted. It can betray you, leave scars so deep you wonder if you'll ever heal. But even then, love never really disappears. It changes, reshapes itself, finds new ways to exist in you.

Maybe that’s the mystery of love—it never truly leaves. No matter how much time passes, no matter how much it hurts, it stays. And sometimes, if you're lucky, it finds its way back to you.

Those three words. Three unexpected words that slipped out of his mouth.

It is what you have been waiting for. You continue to wait for someone to declare their love for you, but it doesn't bring you joy.

“ I love you.”

Instead…

Your body goes stiff. The air is sucked from your lungs.

“ I’ve loved you for a long time.” He continues, his voice steady, controlled—but underneath, you can hear the cracks forming. “ Long before you ever looked at my brother the way you did. Long before you ever ran after him like he was the only one who mattered.”

Your knees go weak.

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. You’re too stunned, too blindsided by the weight of his words.

“ I was always there.” He presses on, stepping closer, his gaze burning into you. “ I watched you fall for him. I watched you break for him. And I—” His voice falters just slightly, but he keeps going. “ And I hated him for not seeing what he had.”

A shiver runs through you. This is too much. Too intense.

“ This…” Your voice was shaky as you pushed against his chest, creating some distance. “ This is all wrong.”

In-ho frowned, his grip on you loosening slightly. “ Wrong?”

You swallowed, trying to steady your breathing. “ I—I don’t see you that way.” You blurted out, your thoughts still scrambled from the kiss. “ I only see you as an older brother.”

Silence.

For a second, he just stared at you. And then—he laughed.

A low, sarcastic chuckle escaped him as he ran a hand through his hair. “ Older brother?” He repeated, his voice laced with disbelief. “ You’re really going with that?”

You frowned. “ What’s so funny?”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “ Oh, nothing. It’s just… that’s exactly what you said to Jun-ho, isn’t it?” He met your eyes, his gaze sharp, unreadable. “ And look how that turned out.”

Your stomach twisted at the mention of Jun-ho, but you refused to let it show. “ That’s different.”

“ Is it?” His voice was calm, but there was something bitter underneath. “ Tell me, Y/n, did you kiss him like that too?”

Your face burned. “ That’s not the point!”

“ Then what is the point?” He stepped forward, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “ Because from where I’m standing, it sure as hell doesn’t feel like I’m your brother.”

You clenched your jaw, hating how he was turning this on you. “ You’re just being stubborn.”

“ Oh, I’m the stubborn one?” He let out a short, humorless laugh. “ You’re the one running from this. From us.”

“ There is no us, In-ho!” You snapped, frustration boiling over. “ I can’t—we can’t—”

But before you could finish, he grabbed your wrist again, pulling you toward him.

And then he kissed you.

Your lips still burned from the kiss you had just shared, a kiss that had shattered every line you swore you wouldn’t cross. Your breath came in short, uneven gasps, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it. But instead of pulling away, In-ho stayed close, his forehead nearly touching yours, his dark eyes searching yours with an intensity that made it impossible to look away.

" Is it still wrong?" His voice was low, hoarse, barely above a whisper.

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. The words tangled in your throat, trapped between the battle in your heart and the fire in your veins.

" Tell me." His voice was more urgent this time, his fingers tightening around your wrist.

Still, silence.

Frustration flickered across his face, but then, something else—something deeper. Without warning, he pulled you to him, crushing you against his chest as if afraid you’d slip away. And then his lips were on yours again, desperate, raw, consuming. This wasn’t just a kiss; it was a storm—raging, relentless, and devastating.

His hands found your waist, fingers tracing your curves before gripping you with a possessiveness that made your breath hitch. He held you like he was afraid to lose you, like you belonged to him, like he had every right to claim you. And maybe, in this moment, he did.

Your hands found their way to his shoulders, then to his hair, pulling him even closer, deepening the kiss until there was no space left between you. Every touch, every movement, was a plea—one neither of you dared to speak aloud.

You knew this was dangerous. You knew the world outside this moment was still waiting, still ready to tear you apart. But right now, wrapped in his arms, tasting the urgency on his lips, feeling the way he held you like you were the only thing keeping him breathing—you didn’t care.

Maybe it was wrong.

Maybe it always would be.

But right now, in this stolen moment, nothing else mattered.

Your breath hitched, your entire body frozen as his words sank in.

" I don’t care what they say, I’m in love with you."

His voice was barely above a whisper, but it crashed into you like a tidal wave, drowning out every rational thought. His fingertips brushed through your hair, slow and deliberate, like he was memorizing the feeling of you—like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

Your heart pounded so violently that it hurt. Your mind screamed at you to run, to push him away before this became something neither of you could undo. But your body—your traitorous, aching body—leaned into him instead, craving the warmth of his touch, the quiet promise in his gaze.

His eyes burned into yours, filled with something so intense, so raw, it shattered every wall you had left. It wasn’t just passion. It was devotion, desperation, a plea without words.

He had already made his choice. And deep down, you knew you had made yours too.

Slowly, cautiously, his hands traced down to cup your face, his thumb grazing your cheek as if he were touching something fragile, something precious.

" Say something." He pleaded, his voice thick with emotion.

But you couldn’t. Because if you spoke, if you admitted to yourself that you felt it too—that you had always felt it—you would never be able to walk away.

And maybe…maybe you didn’t want to.

“ And I don’t care if you think it’s wrong. I don’t care if I’m older. I don’t care if you only saw me as someone who protected you.” His forehead pressed against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “ Because the truth is, I wanted to protect you. I wanted to be the one you came to. And I still do.”

Your chest tightens. “ In-ho…”

“ Just give me a chance.” He pleads, his voice raw with emotion. “ Give me a chance to prove to you that I’m serious. That this isn’t some mistake. That I’ve always loved you—long before you ever saw me this way.”

Your heart is aching.

You’ve never seen In-ho like this—vulnerable. He’s always been strong, always the one who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders without breaking.

But right now?

Right now, he’s breaking for you.

And you don’t know if you can handle it.

…

Jun-ho stood at the entrance, frozen, his breath caught somewhere between his chest and his throat.

He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. He hadn’t meant to see this. But now, the sight was burned into his mind—the way In-ho held you so possessively, the way your body molded into his, the way your lips clung to each other like you were both starving. And then, In-ho’s whispered confession—words so raw, so painfully sincere, that Jun-ho felt them like a knife to the gut.

“ I love you.”

" I don’t care what they say, I’m in love with you."

Jun-ho’s hands clenched at his sides, his jaw locking so tightly it ached. He should be happy for you, for both of you. That’s what he told himself. That’s what should make sense.

But then why did it feel like something inside him was cracking apart?

Why was there a burning in his chest, a bitterness on his tongue, a rage curling in his fists?

Why did it feel like he was the one losing something—no, someone—he never even had?

His heart pounded as he forced himself to take a step back, then another, as if putting distance between himself and the scene would somehow lessen the weight pressing down on him. But it didn’t. It only made the emptiness inside him more apparent.

He had always known there was something between you and In-ho, something neither of you spoke about but was always there, simmering beneath the surface. He had ignored it, pushed it aside, convinced himself it wasn’t what it seemed.

But now, there was no more pretending. No more denying.

You and In-ho weren’t just a fleeting moment, a reckless mistake.

You wanted each other.

And Jun-ho… Jun-ho was just standing there, watching it happen, realizing too late that he had lost something he never even got the chance to claim.

Until the sound of the punch landing was deafening.

One second, you were locked in that heated, breathless moment with In-ho—the next, he was stumbling backward, blood trickling from his nose.

You barely had time to react before Jun-ho was on him, fists clenched, voice shaking with fury. “ What the fuck do you think you’re doing to her?!”

Your eyes widened. “ Jun-ho—”

“ Get your damn hands off of her!” He shouted, grabbing In-ho by the neck, ready to swing again.

In-ho, to your horror, only smirked, wiping the blood from his nose with the back of his hand. “ Took you long enough.” He muttered before swinging his fist in return, landing a solid punch on Jun-ho’s jaw.

Jun-ho stumbled but recovered quickly, shoving his brother back with even more force. “ You bastard—”

Before you knew it, they were on each other, fists flying, bodies colliding as they fought like they’d been waiting years for an excuse to do this.

“ Stop it!” You rushed between them, grabbing onto Jun-ho’s arm just as he was about to land another hit, but he barely budged. “ Jun-ho, stop! It’s not what you think!”

“ He was forcing himself on you, wasn’t he?!” He snapped, eyes wild with rage.

“ No! It wasn’t like that!” You insisted, pulling at his sleeve. “ Just listen—”

But before you could say another word, In-ho—still smirking despite the cut on his lip—let out a low chuckle. “ What’s wrong, little brother? Are you jealous?”

Jun-ho lunged at him again, and you barely had time to react before they were crashing into the table, sending plates and cups shattering onto the floor.

You grabbed In-ho’s arm next, trying to shove yourself between them, but he barely glanced at you, too focused on his brother. “ You always act like you’re better than me.” He growled, wiping more blood from his nose.

“ Like you have any right to tell me what to do.”

“ And you always act like you don’t give a damn about anything!” Jun-ho spat, chest heaving. “ But when it comes to her—suddenly, you do?”

You froze.

For a split second, In-ho didn’t respond.

And that silence? It spoke louder than anything.

Jun-ho let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head. “ You’re unbelievable.”

In-ho’s jaw clenched, his smirk faltering just slightly. “ You’re a pain in my ass.”

Jun-ho scoffed, wiping at his bleeding lip. “ Right back at you.”

The tension in the room was suffocating. The anger, the resentment, the years of unspoken things between them—it all boiled over in that moment.

And you?

You were stuck between them, trying—and failing—to stop a war that had already started.

The tension was unbearable. You stood between them, your heart pounding as they glared at each other, both still seething, both still ready to lunge again.

“ In-ho, Jun-ho—enough!” You shouted, your voice cutting through the thick silence.

Neither of them moved. Their breathing was ragged, their fists still clenched. The only sound in the room was the dripping of water from the sink and the faint ringing in your ears from the chaos that had just unfolded.

Jun-ho turned to you first, his expression still stormy. “ Y/n, why the hell are you defending him?” His voice was sharp, filled with disbelief.

You exhaled, frustration boiling inside you. “ Because you’re not listening to me!” You gestured between the two of them. “ You just assumed things and started throwing punches before even asking what was happening!”

Jun-ho’s brows furrowed, but before he could argue, In-ho let out a scoff. “ She’s right, you know.” He muttered, running a hand through his messy hair. “ Typical of you to act first, think later.”

Jun-ho tensed, his jaw clenching. “ Shut up."

You shot In-ho a glare. “ You aren’t helping either!”

He held up his hands in mock surrender, but that damn smirk was still on his face, despite the blood trickling from his lip. “ Hey, he started it.”

“ Oh my god.” You groaned, rubbing your temples. “ You two are impossible.”

Jun-ho was still glaring at his brother, his breathing unsteady, his hands shaking slightly. But then he turned back to you, his expression shifting to something more vulnerable—something almost hurt.

“ Why, then?” He asked quietly, his voice lacking the previous anger. “ Why were you letting him kiss you?”

Your stomach twisted.

In-ho’s smirk faded slightly at the question, but he stayed quiet, watching you carefully.

You swallowed hard, suddenly feeling exposed under both their gazes. “ I—I don’t know.” You admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

It wasn’t a lie.

Because even you weren’t sure what had led to that kiss. Maybe it was the frustration, maybe it was the heat of the moment, maybe it was something buried deeper inside you that you had been refusing to acknowledge.

But Jun-ho didn’t seem satisfied with that answer. He scoffed, shaking his head. “ Unbelievable.” He muttered, stepping back. “ I thought you were smarter than this.”

His words stung.

Before you could say anything, he turned toward the door. “ I need to clear my head.” He muttered, storming out without another word.

The door slammed behind him, leaving an aching silence in his wake.

You stood there, frozen, the weight of everything crashing down on you.

Then, after a long pause, In-ho exhaled and ran a hand down his face. “ Well.” He said, voice light despite the tension still lingering. “ That went great.”

You turned to him with a glare, shoving him in the chest. “ You’re such an ass.”

He barely moved, only raising an eyebrow at you. “ Me? What did I do?”

“ You taunted him!” You snapped. “ You know how he is! You knew that would make it worse!”

He tilted his head slightly, studying you. “ And what about you?” He asked, voice lower now.

“ Are you mad because of the fight? Or because you’re starting to realize that you liked kissing me?”

Your breath hitched.

You opened your mouth, but no words came out.

Because you didn’t have an answer to that.

And from the knowing look on In-ho’s face, he already knew that.

The room was suffocatingly quiet, the weight of In-ho’s words pressing down on you like a boulder.

Your heart was still racing, your skin still tingling from the kiss—the fight—everything. And now, with Jun-ho gone and only In-ho standing in front of you, watching you with that unreadable expression, you felt more exposed than ever.

You swallowed hard. “ You’re full of yourself.”

He huffed a small, amused breath, his lip still slightly swollen from the punch. “ Am I?”

You crossed your arms, trying to regain some control over this situation. “ That was a mistake.”

In-ho took a step closer. Not enough to touch you, but enough that you could feel his presence. His warmth. His intensity.

“ Funny,” He murmured, his gaze locked onto yours. “ Didn’t feel like a mistake to me.”

Your stomach twisted. “ That’s because you don’t take anything seriously.”

His smirk faded slightly. “ And you take everything too seriously.”

You turned away, frustration bubbling in your chest. “ This isn’t about me, In-ho.”

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “ It never is, is it?”

You froze.

His voice wasn’t teasing anymore. It wasn’t smug or taunting—it was tired.

When you looked back at him, there was something in his eyes that sent a strange pang through your chest. Something vulnerable.

Something real.

For the first time since this whole mess started, he looked…wounded.

“ You always run.” He muttered, more to himself than to you. “ Always pretending like none of this means anything.” He let out a short, humorless laugh. “ But when it’s Jun-ho, you don’t hesitate, do you?”

You flinched, his words cutting deeper than you wanted to admit.

“ In-ho, it’s not—”

He shook his head, stepping back before you could even try to explain. “ Forget it.” His voice was quiet now. Resigned.

You hated the way that made your chest ache.

He licked his split lip, his usual smirk forced and empty. “ You should go after him.” He muttered. “ That’s what you always do, right?”

Your throat tightened. “ In-ho—”

But he didn’t wait for you to finish.

He just turned and walked away, leaving you standing there in the wreckage of what just happened, your heart pounding with an answer you still weren’t ready to face.

You found Jun-ho outside In-ho’s house, his back turned to you as he kicked at the gravel on the pavement. His posture was tense, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, shoulders rising and falling with heavy breaths.

You hesitated for a moment before stepping closer. “ Jun-ho.”

He didn’t turn around right away. Instead, he let out a frustrated sigh, kicking another rock before finally glancing at you. His jaw was clenched, his expression unreadable.

“ What are you doing here?” You asked cautiously.

Jun-ho scoffed, running a hand through his hair. “ I came to say sorry to my asshole brother.” He muttered, voice laced with irritation.

“ But then I walked in on that and—” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “ Guess I changed my mind.”

You bit your lip, shifting uncomfortably. “ Jun-ho, it wasn’t—”

“ You kissed him.” He cut in, his voice quieter now, but still firm.

Your stomach twisted. “ I—”

He turned fully toward you now, searching your face for something—anything—that would make this make sense. “ Tell me, Y/n.” He said, voice low, almost pleading.

“ Was it just him? Or did you kiss him back?”

You swallowed, the memory of In-ho’s lips on yours flashing through your mind—the way you had melted into him, the way you hadn’t pulled away.

You looked down. “ I…didn’t mean to.”

Jun-ho let out a bitter laugh. “ Didn’t mean to?”

“ It was just—it was just the moment, okay?” You said quickly, feeling your own frustration rising. “ I got carried away. It didn’t mean anything.”

“ Didn’t mean anything.” He repeated, his tone unreadable.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “ Jun-ho, it was a mistake.”

He was quiet for a long time before he finally spoke again. “ You don’t know him like I do.”

You looked up, confused. “ What?”

“ My brother.” Jun-ho muttered, crossing his arms.

“ He’s not some good guy, Y/n. He’s reckless. He doesn’t care who gets hurt in the process of getting what he wants.” His voice hardened. “ And he will hurt you.”

Your brows furrowed. “ Jun-ho, that’s not fair.”

He scoffed. “ Not fair? You think I don’t see what’s happening? I don’t know what his deal is with you, but I do know one thing—he’s dangerous.”

You frowned, crossing your arms. “ You’re acting like he’s some kind of criminal.”

He shook his head. “ Maybe not. But trust me, Y/n, you don’t want to get involved with him.”

A strange unease settled in your chest.

Jun-ho’s anger wasn’t just about the kiss.

It was something more.

And you weren’t sure you wanted to know what.

You stared at Jun-ho, frustration bubbling up inside you as his words sank in. “ Why are you being like this?” you demanded, crossing your arms tightly over your chest.

“ You keep acting like you’re trying to protect me, but it's just—” Your voice wavered, and you hated it. “ It just makes everything worse.”

Jun-ho’s expression shifted, softening for a split second before he forced it back into that same hardened mask. “ I’m trying to look out for you.” He said evenly. “ That’s all.”

“ Why?” You shot back, feeling your throat tighten. “ Why do you even care so much? It’s not like I—I mean, you don’t even…”

You trailed off, the words sticking in your throat.

You don’t even like me.

Jun-ho looked away, kicking at the ground again, and for a moment you swore you saw a flicker of something—regret, sadness, guilt—but he buried it just as quickly. “ You’re important to me.” He muttered. “ But not like that.”

Your heart twisted painfully. “ Then why do you keep acting like—like you—”

“ Because you’re family.” He cut in, his voice firm. “ You were always part of my life, Y/n. You’re the closest thing I have to—” He swallowed, frustration and something else bleeding into his voice.

“ I don’t want to see you get hurt. Not by him.”

Your lips parted, a bitter laugh slipping out. “ You think you haven’t already hurt me?”

He stiffened.

“ All those times.” You went on, bitterness rising with every word, “ That you pushed me away, that you treated me like I was just some responsibility—you think that didn’t mess me up? That I didn’t—”

“ Y/n.” He warned, his tone flat, but you weren’t done.

“ You don’t get to act like this.” You snapped, your voice trembling as you fought back the sting of tears. “ Like you’re just some protective older brother who doesn’t know what’s going on—who doesn’t see what this is doing to me!”

Jun-ho’s fists clenched at his sides. “ You’re twisting this.”

“ No.” You said, stepping closer, refusing to back down. “ You are. You keep treating me like some little sister, and it’s bullshit.”

“ It’s not—” He broke off, looking away, and you saw the muscles in his jaw tighten. “ You’re making this more complicated than it has to be.”

“ Am I?” You shot back, your heart pounding. “ Or are you just too much of a coward to admit that you feel something too?”

The silence was deafening.

Jun-ho stared at you, his expression blank, but you could see the storm raging behind his eyes—the way he flinched, like you’d just hit him where it hurt most.

“ I don’t.” He said finally, and the emptiness in his voice cut deeper than anything else. “ Not the way you want me to.”

Your chest heaved, but you refused to let yourself fall apart in front of him. “ Fine.” You said, barely recognizing your own voice.

“ If that’s how you feel, then stop trying to control my life. I don’t need you to protect me. I don’t need you to save me from In-ho or anyone else.”

“Y/n—”

“ No.” You snapped, backing away. “ I’m done. If I get hurt, that’s on me. Not you.”

He looked like he wanted to say something more, but the words never came.

And you didn’t wait.

You turned on your heel, walking back toward the house, your chest aching, but you refused to stop, refused to give Jun-ho the satisfaction of seeing just how deeply he’d broken you.

You’d given him enough of yourself.

It was time to stop letting him rip you apart.

You barely made it a few steps before Jun-ho’s voice rang out behind you, sharp and filled with something raw.

“ I like someone else, Y/n!”

Your entire body froze.

His words echoed in your head, repeating over and over again, until they didn’t even sound real anymore.

Slowly, you turned around, your heart hammering in your chest. “ What?”

Jun-ho ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident on his face. “ I’m courting someone. I love her.”

The world tilted under your feet.

He didn’t stop there.

“ She’s kind, she’s patient—she actually listens instead of picking fights with me all the damn time,” he went on, his voice laced with irritation, like he had been holding this in for far too long.

“ She doesn’t make things complicated. She just understands me.”

Every single word was a dagger to your heart.

You felt your breath hitch, your hands curling into fists at your sides. “ Why—why are you telling me this?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jun-ho scoffed. “ Because you keep acting like there’s something here when there isn’t.”

You swallowed against the lump in your throat, trying to keep yourself together, trying not to show just how much his words were destroying you.

“ You didn’t have to say it like that.” You mumbled, your voice trembling despite your best efforts.

Jun-ho sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “ I don’t want to keep hurting you, Y/n. But you’re not her. And you never will be.”

Your entire world shattered.

It was one thing to suspect it. One thing to wonder if Jun-ho had ever seen you as more than just a sister figure.

But to hear it out loud?

To hear him describe someone else—someone he loved—so effortlessly, so casually, as if it didn’t crush every last bit of hope you had clung to?

It was unbearable.

You let out a hollow laugh, shaking your head as you blinked rapidly, forcing back the sting in your eyes. “ Wow.” You muttered, wrapping your arms around yourself. “ Okay.”

Jun-ho’s expression faltered slightly, like he realized just how deeply he had cut you. “ Y/n—”

“ No.” You said quickly, holding up a hand. “ I get it. I really do.”

You turned away before he could see the tears forming. “ Good luck with her.” You said, your voice barely steady.

And then you walked back inside, slamming the door behind you before your walls could crumble completely.

The moment you stepped inside, you pressed your back against the door, shutting your eyes tightly as you let out a shaky breath.

Your chest felt hollow. Your heart pounded painfully against your ribs.

You’re not her. And you never will be.

Jun-ho’s words kept replaying in your head, over and over again, like a cruel mantra you couldn’t escape.

You wanted to scream. To cry. To erase whatever part of you still cared about him after everything.

But before you could completely break down, a voice pulled you from your spiral.

“ Tough conversation?”

Your eyes snapped open to see In-ho standing a few feet away, leaning casually against the counter with his arms crossed. His lip was still swollen from the punch, but there was no anger in his expression—just something unreadable, something almost knowing.

You swallowed hard, straightening. “ I don’t want to talk about it.”

In-ho hummed, tilting his head as he studied you. “ You sure? You look like you’re about to cry.”

“ I said I don’t want to talk about it.” You snapped, harsher than you intended.

Instead of looking offended, In-ho just let out a quiet chuckle. “ So that's bad, huh?”

You clenched your jaw, glaring at him. “ Why are you even still here?”

He raised a brow. “ My house.”

You let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through your hair. “ Right. Of course.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The weight of the conversation with Jun-ho still hung heavy in the air, suffocating.

Then, In-ho took a step closer, his voice softer than before. “ So…what did my dear little brother say to break your heart this time?”

Your breath hitched, your eyes flickering up to meet him.

You wanted to lie. To pretend that Jun-ho’s words hadn’t just shattered you into a thousand pieces.

But something in In-ho’s gaze made it impossible.

So instead, you whispered, “ He loves someone else.”

In-ho’s smirk faded. His eyes darkened slightly, his jaw tightening just the smallest bit.

“ Of course he does.” He muttered under his breath.

You frowned. “ What’s that supposed to mean?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he took another step closer, so close that you could feel his warmth.

Then, with a slow exhale, he said, “ It means Jun-ho is an idiot.”

You blinked. “ Excuse me?”

In-ho’s gaze locked onto yours, and for the first time, there was no teasing, no smugness—just quiet certainty.

“ He doesn’t see what’s right in front of him.” He said simply. “ He never has.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

You didn’t know what to say to that. Didn’t know if you wanted to say anything at all.

Because for the first time since you walked through that door, your mind wasn’t stuck on Jun-ho.

It was stuck on In-ho.

You stared at In-ho, his words settling deep into your chest, stirring something you weren’t ready to acknowledge.

He doesn’t see what’s right in front of him.

There was something about the way In-ho said it—so certain, so matter-of-fact—that made your breath hitch.

You swallowed hard, shaking your head. “ It doesn’t matter.”

In-ho raised a brow. “ Doesn’t it?”

You let out a bitter laugh, crossing your arms. “ I don’t know what you’re trying to get at, but I’m done talking about Jun-ho.”

“ Good.” In-ho said smoothly. “ I’m sick of talking about him too.”

You glanced at him warily. “ Then why do I feel like you’re about to say something annoying?”

He smirked. “ Because I usually do.”

You rolled your eyes, but before you could shoot back a response, he took another step closer.

Your breath caught.

There was something different about the way he was looking at you now. No teasing glint in his eye. No smug amusement.

Just…intent.

“ You deserve better.” He said suddenly.

Your heart skipped a beat. “ What?”

“ You heard me.” He tilted his head slightly, studying your face like he was trying to memorize it.

“ You deserve someone who actually sees you, Y/n.”

You opened your mouth, but no words came out.

Because the way he said it—so effortlessly, like it was just an undeniable truth—made your chest tighten in a way you weren’t prepared for.

You swallowed. “ And what, you think that’s you?”

A slow smirk tugged at his lips, but his eyes remained serious. “ Maybe.”

You scoffed, trying to ignore the way your pulse was racing. “ I just had my heart broken minutes ago, In-ho.”

“ I know.” He murmured. “ That’s why I’m not doing anything about it.”

You frowned. “ Then what are you doing?”

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to something almost too soft.

“ Waiting.”

Your stomach flipped.

He didn’t move closer. Didn’t push any further. He just held your gaze, waiting for you to process his words, letting them sink in.

And for the first time, you weren’t sure if it was Jun-ho or In-ho who was making your head spin.

Gosh...that was intense.

If you are in the situation of Y/n, who will you going to choose?

Team In-ho or Team Jun-ho?

Y/n and Jun-ho's age right now: 23 (College students)

In-ho's age right now: 30 (I need to lower down his age to make it more accurate)

Tags: @maah-sama @storytellers-randomshortstorys @colorwastaken @frontwomann @roach457855688568876 @coruja12345

See u in part 8. 😝

227 notes · View notes

lost-in-thoughts03 · 20 days ago

Text

Falling for you // Hwang brothers

Previous part || Next part

Summary: You start to regain your senses. You wake up in the morning with a severe headache. You went downstairs to drink some water, but seeing In-ho made you thirsty for more.

" Do you fancy sitting down with me maybe? 'Cause you're all I need."

Warning: Headache, In-ho being In-ho, flirty conversation, mutual-pinning, tension, caring In-ho, teasing, grammatical error

A groan escaped your lips as you stirred awake, your head pounding like a drum. The morning light filtering through the window didn’t help, making you wince as you slowly sat up.

You blinked, looking around. This… wasn’t your place. The neatly arranged furniture, the crisp scent of cologne mixed with coffee—it all screamed In-ho.

The memories of last night were hazy, but you vaguely recalled him dragging you out of the club, lecturing you like some overprotective guardian. You probably passed out in his car, which would explain why you were now in his bed.

With another groan, you forced yourself up, rubbing your temples as you stumbled toward the kitchen, desperate for water.

And that’s when you saw him.

Standing by the stove, casually flipping something in a pan, was In-ho—completely shirtless.

Your sleep-ridden brain short-circuited.

His back was turned to you at first, giving you a perfect view of his toned shoulders, the strong muscles shifting beneath his skin as he moved.

His broad frame tapered into a lean waist, the defined ridges of his back leading down to where his dark trousers sat low on his hips. And when he finally turned, giving you a full view of his front—well, you almost forgot how to breathe.

His chest was sculpted, his abs sharply defined, each line accentuated by the soft glow of morning light. His biceps flexed slightly as he reached for a plate, completely unbothered by the way you were blatantly staring.

Your mouth had gone dry. Or maybe you were still drooling. Who knew?

In-ho’s lips curved into a smirk as he finally met your gaze. “ Morning, sleeping beauty.” He greeted smoothly, eyes twinkling with amusement. “ You’re up earlier than I expected.

You barely registered his words, too busy trying to not let your gaze drop to the dip of his V-line. But he noticed. Oh, he definitely noticed.

His smirk widened. “ Are you checking me out?”

You snapped out of your trance, face instantly heating up. “ W-What?! No!”

He chuckled, setting the spatula down as he leaned against the counter, arms crossing over his chest—only making his muscles more prominent. “ You sure? ‘Cause you’ve been staring for a while.”

You tore your gaze away, suddenly very interested in the kitchen tiles. “ Why are you even topless?” you muttered, trying to sound unimpressed, though your burning cheeks betrayed you.

He shrugged, acting nonchalant. “ I usually sleep shirtless. But if I knew you’d be so fascinated, I would’ve covered up.” His tone was laced with teasing, his grin downright smug.

You scowled, grabbing a glass to pour yourself some water, refusing to meet his gaze. “ You’re annoying.”

“ And you’re a terrible liar.” He shot back smoothly, grabbing a plate and sliding some food onto it.

" How are you feeling?" He asks, far too smug for your liking.

" Like death." You grumble, running a hand through your hair. " What happened last night?"

His smirk widens. " Oh, so you don’t remember?"

Something in his tone makes your stomach flip. You narrow your eyes. " Remember what exactly?"

He hums in mock thought, strolling over to lean against the arm of the couch, far too close for comfort. " Let’s see…You were very affectionate last night."

You blink. " Affectionate?"

" Mhmm." He tilts his head, pretending to think. " Clingy, even. Kept touching my face. Told me I had ‘pretty eyes’ at least a dozen times."

Your eyes widen in horror. " I did not."

" You did." He insists, grinning. " Oh, and at one point, you asked if my lips were really as soft as they looked."

You choke on air. " Lies!"

" Should I keep going?"

You scramble for memories, but all you get are hazy flashes—In-ho’s face close to yours, the warmth of his body, your own voice teasing him—Wait...

Oh. Oh no.

Your face burns as bits and pieces come back. You have been very touchy. You had definitely learned in too close, whispered things that sober you would never dare say.

And In-ho—being the composed, maddeningly controlled man he was—had somehow resisted.

You bury your face in your hands. " I hate myself."

In-ho chuckles. " Don’t worry. I handled it like a gentleman."

You peek at him through your fingers. " Meaning?"

He leans in, voice dropping just enough to make your heart stutter. " Meaning I almost lost my mind, but I have self-control—unlike someone."

You shove him, mortified. " Shut up!"

He just laughs, clearly enjoying this way too much. " You know, if you ever want to test that theory again—"

" ABSOLUTELY NOT!"

This is never happening again.

...Right?

“ Now sit down and eat. You’ll need something in your stomach after all that drinking.” He spoke.

Despite your embarrassment, you obeyed, plopping onto a chair with a pout. But you still stole a few glances at him when you thought he wasn’t looking.

Unfortunately for you, he always was.

The quiet clinking of utensils filled the air as you focused on your plate, hoping—praying—that In-ho would drop the teasing and let you eat in peace. Your headache was already bad enough without him smirking at you every time you dared to look at him.

But of course, that was wishful thinking.

“ So…” In-ho leaned back in his chair, arms resting lazily on the table as he watched you with that sharp, unreadable gaze. “ Are you gonna tell me why you were at that club last night?”

You froze mid-bite, your fork hovering just inches from your mouth.

He didn’t miss it.

His eyes narrowed slightly. “ Because we both know you’re not the type to go to places like that.”

You swallowed, suddenly losing your appetite. He was right—you never really liked clubs. The loud music, the suffocating crowd, the strangers pressing too close—it wasn’t your scene. You barely even enjoyed social gatherings unless you had to be there.

So why did you go last night?

You played with your food, avoiding his gaze. “ I was just…with friends.” You muttered.

He scoffed. “ Yeah, I got that part. But that’s not the real reason, is it?”

You clenched your jaw, feeling a lump form in your throat. You didn’t want to admit it. It felt stupid. Weak.

But In-ho wasn’t the type to let things go, especially when it came to you. He leaned in slightly, his voice softer now. “ Y/n…what were you running from?”

Your fingers tightened around your fork. Running.

Maybe that was it.

" I like you, Jun-ho."

For a moment, he said nothing. His eyes, the ones you had trusted for so long, held something unfamiliar—hesitation. Regret.

" Y/n..." He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

" I—I'm sorry."

Just two words, and it was over.

But in the end, it didn’t change a damn thing.

You exhaled sharply, setting your fork down. “ I just wanted to forget, okay?” You admitted, voice quieter than before. “ Just for one night.

In-ho didn’t say anything right away. He just watched you, his expression unreadable, his jaw ticking slightly as if he was processing your words. Then, he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“ You could’ve called me.” His voice wasn’t scolding, wasn’t angry—just… disappointed. And for some reason, that made you feel worse. “ You didn’t have to go to some random club and get wasted.”

You huffed, forcing a smirk. “ What, and have you lecture me all night instead?”

He shook his head, but there was a small smile tugging at his lips. “ No, idiot. I just wouldn’t have let you drink yourself into a mess.” He leaned forward again, resting his arms on the table.

“ Next time you feel like running…just come to me instead.”

Your breath hitched slightly, his words catching you off guard.

It wasn’t just a casual offer—it was him. Letting you know, without saying it outright, that he was someone you could rely on. That no matter what, he’d be there.

And despite everything, despite the mess your life had become…maybe that was enough.

You stared at him, his words lingering in your mind.

Come to me instead.

There was something about the way he said it—so sure, so sincere—that made your heart do an unfamiliar flip in your chest. And before you could stop yourself, the question slipped from your lips.

“ Why do you care so much?”

In-ho, who had just taken a bite of his food, visibly tensed. Then, to your surprise, he choked.

He coughed violently, hurriedly reaching for his glass of water while you watched, half-concerned, half-amused. “ Oh my god.” You deadpanned. “ Are you okay?”

He waved a hand, still coughing as he gulped down the water. After a moment, he finally managed to breathe again, his face slightly flushed—whether from choking or your question, you weren’t sure.

“ W-What kind of question is that?” He stammered, avoiding your eyes as he set his glass down.

You raised an eyebrow. “ A pretty normal one, considering you keep acting like my personal bodyguard.”

He scoffed, regaining some of his composure. “ I’m not your bodyguard.”

“ No? Then why’d you drag me out of the club? Why’d you let me crash here? Why’d you cook me breakfast?” You leaned forward, resting your chin in your palm as you gave him a knowing look. “ Sounds like someone cares.”

His jaw clenched. You could see the gears turning in his head, trying to come up with something—anything—that wouldn’t give away too much.

Finally, he exhaled, leaning back in his chair. “I just—look, someone has to make sure you don’t get yourself killed,” he muttered, crossing his arms. “ You’re reckless, Y/n. And I—” He stopped himself, shaking his head. “ It’s just not safe for you to be wandering around drunk.”

You squinted at him. “ That’s not an answer.”

“ It’s the only one you’re getting.” He shot back, picking up his coffee as if that settled it.

You huffed, but didn’t press further. Maybe you were too hungover to keep digging. Maybe part of you didn’t want to hear the real answer. Because deep down, you already knew.

This wasn’t just about protecting you.

But for now, you let him have his excuse.

You sighed, leaning back in your chair, watching him as he sipped his coffee like he hadn’t just fumbled his way through that excuse. Typical In-ho. Always composed, always in control—except, apparently, when it came to answering a simple question about you.

“ So, what?” You teased, tilting your head. “ I’m just a reckless idiot you feel obligated to look after?”

He didn’t even look at you. “ Something like that.”

You narrowed your eyes. “ Liar."

That made him glance at you, his expression unreadable. “ Excuse me?”

“ You’re lying.” You said bluntly, crossing your arms. “ If it was just an obligation, you wouldn’t have let me sleep in your bed, and you definitely wouldn’t be cooking me breakfast half-naked like some—” Your words cut off when your eyes involuntarily flickered to his chest again.

Bad move.

In-ho caught it instantly, the corner of his lips twitching upward. “ Like some what?” He prodded, setting his cup down and leaning forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table. His tone had shifted—less defensive, more teasing.

You cleared your throat, suddenly feeling warm. “Like…I don’t know. A damn boyfriend or something.”

The words hung between you, heavier than you expected.

For a split second, something flickered in In-ho’s eyes—something unreadable, something dangerous. But then, just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by that infuriating smirk.

“ Well.” He said smoothly, “ If that’s how you see it, maybe you should start calling me that.”

Your eyes widened. “ What?!”

He chuckled, leaning back again, clearly enjoying your reaction. “ What? You said it, not me.”

Your face burned. “ That’s not what I meant, and you know it!”

“ Mm-hmm.” He took another slow sip of his coffee, watching you over the rim of his cup like he was thoroughly entertained.

You scowled, grabbing a piece of toast and aggressively biting into it. “ You’re the worst."

He grinned. “ And yet, here you are, eating the breakfast I made for you.”

You had no comeback for that, so you just kept chewing, refusing to meet his gaze.

But as much as you wanted to act annoyed, a small part of you couldn’t shake the warmth spreading through your chest.

Because despite all his teasing, despite his frustrating deflections…

You knew he cared.

The rest of breakfast went by with playful jabs and smug glances from In-ho, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of another reaction. Instead, you focused on your food, willing the heat in your face to go away.

After a few minutes of silence, he finally spoke again, his tone softer this time. “ So…are you feeling any better?”

You glanced up at him, chewing your toast a little slower. There was no teasing in his expression now—just quiet concern.

Your headache was still lingering, but it had dulled significantly. More than that, though, the weight in your chest from last night didn’t feel as suffocating anymore. Maybe it was the food, maybe it was the sleep, or maybe—just maybe—it was the fact that he was here.

“ Yeah.” You admitted, looking down at your plate. “ Thanks…for everything.”

In-ho didn’t say anything right away. When you finally glanced up, he was watching you with an expression you couldn’t quite place—like he wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure if he should.

Then, as if deciding against it, he leaned back in his chair and smirked. “ Don’t mention it. Just try not to get yourself into trouble again, okay?”

You rolled your eyes. “ No promises.”

He sighed, shaking his head. “ Of course not.”

Despite the conversation from earlier, despite the teasing, despite everything—there was something comforting about this moment. Sitting across from him, sharing breakfast, feeling like—for once—you weren’t completely alone in all of this.

And maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to be.

...

After finishing breakfast, you stretched your arms and stood up, gathering the dishes. “ Alright, since you cooked, I’ll do the dishes.”

In-ho raised an eyebrow as he leaned back in his chair. “ You? Doing the dishes?”

You shot him a glare. “ What’s that supposed to mean?”

He smirked. “ Nothing. Just…I don’t remember you being the type to do house chores willingly.”

You huffed, marching toward the sink. “ Well, there’s a first time for everything. Now go sit down and let me do this.”

But, of course, he didn’t listen. Instead, he stood up. “ I’ll help.”

“ I got it.”

“ I don’t trust you not to break a plate.”

You gasped, turning to him with an offended expression. “ Excuse me?!”

He chuckled, already grabbing a sponge and lathering it up with soap. “ Relax, just pass me the dishes.”

You muttered under your breath but didn’t argue further, handing him a plate while you rinsed another. The two of you worked in a surprisingly comfortable rhythm, standing side by side in the small kitchen.

Then, suddenly, you felt something soft touch your nose.

You blinked, pausing mid-rinse as you saw In-ho grinning at you, his finger still raised. He had just wiped a bit of soapy foam onto your nose.

“ In-ho.” You warned, scrunching your nose as you wiped it off.

His grin widened. “ That was cute.”

You groaned, turning back to the dishes—only for him to do it again. This time, he dotted bubbles on your cheek, making you scowl. “ Stop that.”

He laughed, clearly entertained. “ But you look adorable like this.”

You exhaled sharply, your patience thinning. Oh, so that’s how we’re playing this?

Without warning, you grabbed a handful of bubbles from the sink and smeared them all over his face.

In-ho froze.

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh, but when you saw his entire face covered in soap suds, you couldn’t help it. “ Oh my god.” You giggled. “ You look like—like a snowman!”

His lips parted slightly, as if he couldn’t believe what you had just done. Then, slowly, he wiped some foam from his chin and flicked it at you. “ Oh, you’re dead.”

You yelped, grabbing more bubbles and smearing them onto his hair this time. He groaned, trying to shake them off, but you only laughed harder. “ You actually look kinda adorable.”

“ Adorable?” He echoed, giving you an unimpressed look.

You grinned, still playfully wiping more bubbles onto his face. He grabbed your wrist, stopping you mid-motion. “ That’s enough.” He murmured.

You tried to pull back, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he took a step forward, and suddenly, your back was pressed against the sink.

Your breath hitched.

The mood shifted.

His grip on your wrist wasn’t forceful, but it was firm, his fingers warm against your skin. The laughter between you had faded, replaced by something thicker, heavier.

He was close—too close. Close enough that you could see the way his wet lashes framed his dark eyes, the way his Adam’s apple bobbed slightly as he swallowed.

His gaze flickered down—to your lips.

Your heart pounded.

You swallowed hard, your own eyes locking onto his. Neither of you spoke. The only sound in the kitchen was the faint dripping of water from the sink, but even that felt distant compared to the pounding in your chest.

His grip on your wrist loosened slightly, but he didn’t step back. He just kept staring at you, like he was debating something.

Like he wanted something.

And you?

You weren’t sure if you wanted to stop him.

The air between you was thick with tension, the weight of his gaze setting every nerve in your body on edge. Then, without a word, In-ho leaned in—closer, closer—until his lips finally met yours.

The kiss was sudden, heated, and all-consuming.

A small gasp escaped you, but he didn’t give you a chance to process before he deepened it, his hand moving to cup your jaw, tilting your face up as he devoured you.

Your fingers instinctively tangled in his damp hair, pulling him in, applying more pressure as your body melted against his. He let out a quiet groan at your response, his grip on your waist tightening as he pressed himself against you, caging you between him and the sink.

He kissed you like he had been holding himself back for too long. Like now that he finally had you, he wasn’t planning on stopping anytime soon. His lips moved against yours with a desperate, unspoken hunger, his tongue teasing its way into your mouth, tasting, taking—claiming.

A shiver ran down your spine as his fingers trailed from your waist to your back, pulling you impossibly closer. The heat between you was intoxicating, making your mind hazy, your body burning with every movement.

You didn’t know how long you stood there, lost in him, in the way his lips molded so perfectly against yours, in the way his body pressed against yours like he couldn’t get enough.

All you knew was that this wasn’t enough.

You wanted more.

Until the realization hits you.

Panic grips your chest as you break the kiss, pushing against In-ho’s bare shoulders and stepping back. Your heart is still racing, your lips still tingling, but the overwhelming rush of guilt and confusion swallows everything whole.

“ This is wrong.” You whisper, shaking your head. “ This—this shouldn’t be happening.”

You turn on your heel, ready to leave—to run from the storm you just created. But before you can take another step, a firm hand wraps around your wrist.

In an instant, you’re spun back around and slammed against the wall. A small gasp escapes you as your back hits the cold surface, and before you can react, In-ho is right there, pressing into your space, his presence completely overwhelming.

His hands cage you in, one on your wrist, the other against the wall beside your head. His dark eyes burn into yours, intense and unyielding, making your stomach twist into knots.

You barely have time to protest before his lips crash onto yours again. This time, there’s no hesitation—only hunger, frustration, raw emotion bleeding into every second.

You push against him, trying to resist, but it only makes him tighten his grip, deepening the kiss as if he’s trying to prove something.

And for a second—just a second—you almost give in again.

But then reality strikes, and anger surges through you.

You finally manage to shove him back, your chest heaving, your face flushed with heat. Without thinking, you raise your hand to slap him, but he’s faster.

He catches your wrist midair, his fingers wrapping around it firmly but not harshly. A low chuckle escapes his lips, and that smug, infuriating smirk spreads across his face.

That smirk makes your blood boil.

“ What the hell is wrong with you?” You seethe, struggling against his grip. “ Why are you doing this?”

In-ho doesn’t answer immediately. He just watches you, his gaze flickering over your face, as if deciding whether to keep playing this game.

But then something shifts.

His smirk fades, his expression hardening. His grip on your wrist loosens—not enough to let you go, but just enough for you to feel the tension crackling in the air.

“ You really don’t see it, do you?” He mutters, his voice lower now, raw with something you can’t quite place.

You glare at him. “ See what?”

His jaw clenches. His patience—already worn thin—is slipping away entirely.

Then, finally, he exhales sharply and looks you dead in the eye.

“ I love you."

In-ho is finally dropping the "L" word. He finally moved the glass.

What's going to happen next?

What do you guys think?

Y/n and Jun-ho's age right now: 23 (College students)

In-ho's age right now: 30 (I need to lower down his age to make it more accurate)

See u in part 7. 😉

@alliyah-ll @maah-sama @colorwastaken @frontwomann @evyiione

#Spotify #squid game #squid game 2 #fanfic #hwang inho #hwang inho x reader #hwang inho x y/n #hwang inho x you #hwang junho #hwang junho x reader #hwang junho x y/n #junho x reader #jun ho #jun ho x reader #jun ho squid game #inho x you #inho x reader #in ho x reader #in ho

245 notes · View notes

lost-in-thoughts03 · 24 days ago

Text

Falling for you // Hwang brothers

Previous part || Next part

Summary: You are drunk. You had no idea what you were doing. However, your actions fueled In-ho's desire for you.

" Soon you will be mine, oh, but I want you now."

Warning: 18+, masturbation (m), thick tension, more teasing, In-ho is such a gentleman, self-control, mutual-pinning, craving, reader is feisty, dry humping

His fingers twitch against the wheel. His throat bobs as he swallows hard.

The car ride is quiet, the hum of the engine the only thing filling the space between you and In-ho. Your head feels light, the alcohol swimming through your veins making everything a little too warm, a little too hazy.

You turn your head to him, watching the way his hands grip the steering wheel, knuckles taut, jaw clenched. Always so controlled. Always so disciplined.

A chuckle escapes your lips as you lean closer, your breath fanning against his neck. " You know…" Your voice comes out softer, slower than usual.

" I really wish I had fallen for you instead of your brother."

You don’t miss the way his fingers twitch, the sharp inhale he takes through his nose. He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t acknowledge the words, but you see it—his grip tightening just a little more, like he’s physically restraining himself.

" You’re more my type, you know?" You continue, your fingers trailing up his arm before settling on his hand.

His skin is warm beneath your touch, firm and steady, just like him. You lace your fingers with his, giving them a gentle squeeze, and that’s when you feel it—his resolve wavering, his breath hitching.

In-ho has always been the composed one, the one who doesn’t let emotions dictate his actions. He’s cold when he needs to be, calculating when necessary, and yet…you’ve always seen through it. Beneath that icy exterior is something raw, something he refuses to let surface. But right now, you can feel it cracking.

" You’re strong, responsible, and not to mention good-looking." Your voice is playful, teasing, but there’s something genuine beneath it. You tilt your head, eyes half-lidded as you watch his profile.

" If only you weren’t so stubborn…"

His jaw tightens. " You’re drunk.” He mutters, but his voice isn’t as steady as before.

You squeeze his hand again, tilting your head back against the seat with a dreamy sigh. " Maybe. But that doesn’t mean I’m lying." Your thumb brushes over his knuckles absentmindedly, and you swear you feel him shudder.

His patience is fraying—you can see it in the way his fingers flex beneath yours, in the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows thickly.

" Y/n." His voice is low, strained, a warning.

You smirk, knowing exactly what you’re doing. " What, In-ho? Are you afraid you might actually want me back?"

His hand tightens around yours just for a second—just long enough for you to feel the sheer strength he’s holding back. His self-control is slipping, but he still refuses to give in.

" You should stop.” He murmurs, though there’s no real conviction in his tone.

You grin, letting your head rest against his shoulder, your fingers still tangled with his. " And if I don’t?"

You were perched on his lap, your arms lazily draped around his shoulders, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips. The slight buzz from the drinks earlier made everything feel lighter, your inhibitions slipping just enough to make you bolder than usual.

“ In-ho~” You purred, shifting slightly. His hands twitched at your waist, as if debating whether to hold you still or push you away.

You couldn’t resist testing him. Slowly, you rolled your hips against his thigh, biting your lip when you felt the friction. His sharp inhale didn’t go unnoticed, nor did the way his hands clenched into fists at his sides. But what really made you chuckle was the unmistakable pressure pressing against your clothed core.

“ Oh?” You hummed, feigning innocence as you rocked forward again, feeling the hardness beneath you. “ What was that?”

“ Y/n—” His voice was tight, strained, and the way he said your name sent a thrill through you.

You giggled, grinding down once more, this time savoring the sensation. “ It feels…good.” You admitted, your voice laced with amusement and something darker, something teasing.

His hands shot up to your hips, but instead of pulling you closer, he tried to still your movements. His grip was firm, but not rough—controlled, despite the way his body betrayed him. “ Stop.” He said, almost pleading. “ You’re drunk.”

You pouted, tilting your head. “ So?”

“ So,” He exhaled, squeezing his eyes shut for a brief moment as if trying to regain composure,

“ I don’t want to take advantage of you.” His thumbs rubbed small, soothing circles against your sides, a silent contrast to the storm raging within him. “ I respect you too much for that.”

Your heart stuttered at his words. The playfulness in your expression faltered just a little, but you masked it quickly, leaning in closer until your lips brushed the shell of his ear. “ You’re no fun, In-ho.”

He let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head as he looked up at you, his gaze dark yet gentle. “ Trust me.” He murmured, voice husky with restraint, “ I want to. But not like this.”

And despite the heat simmering between you, despite the way your body craved more, you couldn’t help but smile at the man beneath you—the man who, even in the face of temptation, still put you first.

You huffed, resting your forehead against his as your fingers traced the nape of his neck. The tension in the car was suffocating, thick with the heat of restraint and unspoken desires. You could feel his breath, uneven and heavy, fanning against your lips.

“ In-ho…” You murmured, testing the way his name rolled off your tongue, the way it made his grip on your hips tighten ever so slightly.

His jaw clenched, his fingers twitching as if fighting the urge to pull you closer. “ Y/n.” He warned, but there was no real threat in his voice—only restraint, barely holding on.

You smirked, leaning in just enough for your lips to brush against his, ghosting over them without fully pressing in. “ You’re really holding back, huh?”

You teased, your voice barely above a whisper. “ Is it that hard to resist me?”

A muscle in his jaw jumped. “ Yes.” He admitted, his voice rough. “ But I won’t touch you like this.”

Something about the way he said it sent warmth through you—not just the kind that burned with desire, but something deeper. It wasn’t rejection. It was controlled. Respect. And that made you want him even more.

You pulled back slightly, studying his face—the furrow of his brows, the dark hunger in his eyes, the way his breath came uneven. You could tell he was at war with himself, fighting instincts he desperately wanted to give in to.

With a soft chuckle, you leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek before resting your head against his shoulder. “ Fine, fine.” You relented, nuzzling against him. “ I’ll stop…for now.”

He exhaled, relieved yet tense, his hands loosening their grip. “ You’re dangerous.” he muttered.

You smiled against his skin. “ And you like it.”

His only response was a low chuckle, shaking his head before wrapping an arm around you, holding you close. “ Let’s get you home.” He murmured, his voice gentler now.

And as much as you wanted to keep pushing him, you let yourself relax in his embrace, enjoying the warmth of his body against yours.

There was always next time.

For a moment, there’s only silence. A battle raging inside of him.

Then, he exhales sharply, pulling you out from his lap with a quiet curse. " Get some sleep.” He orders, voice gruff.

You close your eyes, satisfied. Because even if he won’t admit it, you know—he wants you. And you just made it a whole lot harder for him to pretend otherwise.

Then, without another word, he turns back to the road, slamming his foot on the gas.

You let out a small yelp as the car speeds forward, the tension between you thick enough to choke on.

And even though he’s looking straight ahead, you know—you just know—that he’s barely keeping himself together.

…

In-ho let out a heavy sigh as he parked his car and glanced at you, fast asleep in the passenger seat. Even in your drunken state, you managed to push all the right buttons, teasing him until his carefully maintained composure cracked.

Shaking his head, he stepped out of the car and walked around to your side, carefully scooping you up into his arms. You stirred slightly, murmuring something incoherent before settling against his chest, your breath warm against his neck. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to focus as he carried you into his apartment—a place he only used when work kept him too late to go home.

Once inside, he placed you gently on the bed, brushing a few strands of hair from your face. Even asleep, you looked effortlessly tempting, your lips slightly parted, your face relaxed in a way he rarely saw when you were awake.

His face heated as your words from earlier echoed in his mind.

" I really wish I had fallen for you instead of your brother."

A low curse left his lips as he quickly pulled away, running a hand through his hair in frustration. You were drunk. You didn’t mean it. That was what he told himself. That was what he had to believe.

He turned on his heel, heading straight for the bathroom in his private room. He needed a moment—needed to cool down, to shake off the tension that had been gnawing at him since you grabbed his hand back in the car.

A noticeable bulge strains against his trousers as he bites his lip, struggling to endure the ache of his arousal—one he desperately tries to conceal after your relentless teasing in the car.

But even after stepping away, even after trying to distract himself, the heat lingering in his body refused to fade.

Sitting in the driver's seat of his car, In-ho let out a sharp exhale, his head falling back against the headrest. His whole body was tense, his mind still replaying the scene from earlier—your drunken words, the way your fingers had laced with his, the warmth of your body against his when he carried you inside.

His grip on the steering wheel tightened. He knew you had been drunk, that you probably didn’t even remember saying it. But it didn’t matter.

The car was parked in a secluded area, dimly lit by the faint glow of the streetlights outside. In-ho sat in the driver's seat, chest rising and falling heavily as he struggled to contain the heat coursing through his body. His fingers hovered over the zipper of his trousers, hesitating for a brief moment before finally giving in.

With a sharp exhale, he undid his fly, freeing his aching length from the confines of his pants. The cool air sent a shudder down his spine, but the relief was fleeting—his arousal throbbed with urgency, demanding his touch. Wrapping his hand around himself, he let out a low hiss, his grip tightening as he began to stroke, slow and deliberate.

His mind was clouded with images of you—your playful smirk, the way you had teased him earlier, whispering in that sultry tone that drove him insane. He could still feel the ghost of your fingers grazing over his thigh, your lips brushing dangerously close before pulling away, leaving him desperate for more.

“ Y/n…” He groaned, head falling back against the seat as he picked up his pace. His breaths grew uneven, his body trembling with need.

He could picture you so vividly—kneeling before him, your eyes locked onto his with that devilish gleam, your soft fingers wrapping around his length, stroking him just the way he liked.

His grip faltered for a second as a moan escaped him, deep and unrestrained.

“ Fuck… Y/n…”

He bit his lip, his hips bucking into his own hand as the fantasy consumed him. He imagined your warm mouth taking him in, your tongue teasing his sensitive tip, the way you’d moan around him like the perfect little tease.

His pace grew frantic, pleasure coiling tightly in his core, his body trembling as he chased his high.

“ So good…” He panted, brows furrowing in pleasure.

“ Just like that…just like that, Y/n…”

The coil in his stomach snapped, his body tensing as he finally reached his peak. A guttural moan tore from his throat as waves of ecstasy crashed over him, his release spilling over his hand in hot, thick streams. His breath came in ragged pants, his body spent yet still buzzing from the intensity of his climax.

Slumping back against the seat, he let out a shaky exhale, his fingers absentmindedly running through his hair as he tried to collect himself. But even as he calmed, one thought lingered in his mind—he needed more.

He needed you.

...

The weight of the night presses down on you, exhaustion settling in. You’re too tired to think, too drained to analyze the way In-ho is looking at you. All you know is that, for the first time tonight, you don’t feel entirely alone.

In-ho watches you from his seat, his elbows resting on his knees, fingers loosely clasped together. You look so fragile like this—curled up on his bed, the weight of the world finally off your shoulders as sleep takes you.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair.

Jun-ho, you idiot.

His jaw clenched as he stares at you, his thoughts growing darker.

How could my own brother hurt you like this? He never imagined seeing you this broken, this vulnerable. And yet, here you are—because of Jun-ho.

A bitter chuckle escapes him. " You were always chasing after him." He murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. " And I was always just watching."

In-ho moves closer, kneeling beside the couch. His eyes trace your features—the curve of your lips, the faint crease in your brows even in sleep, as if your heartbreak follows you even in your dreams.

His heart aches. He has always kept his feelings buried, hidden behind cold words and unreadable expressions. But now, in this moment, with no one else around, he allows himself to be honest.

He leans in, so close he can feel the warmth of your breath. His fingers hover near your cheek, but he doesn’t touch. He just watches, taking in every detail.

" If it had been me…" His voice is barely audible now. " I would have never let you feel this way."

He exhales softly, his lips mere inches from yours. He could do it—steal a kiss while you sleep, pretend just for a second that you were his. But that wouldn’t be fair to you.

So instead, he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, lingering for just a moment longer than he should.

As he pulls away, a quiet, almost painful smile crosses his lips.

" I wish it was me instead of him."

He confesses, even though he knows you’ll never hear it.

Y/n and Jun-ho's age right: 23 (College students)

In-ho's age right now: 30 (I need to lower down his age to make it more accurate)

So...here's the part 5 everyone.

Tags: @roach467855680568876 @coruja12345 @psychobitchsthings @thereal1515 @maah-sama

See u in part 6, I guess? 😉

#Spotify #squid game #squid game 2 #fanfic #hwang inho #hwang inho x reader #hwang inho x y/n #hwang inho x you #hwang junho #hwang junho x reader #hwang junho x y/n #junho x reader #jun ho x reader #jun ho #jun ho squid game #inho x you #inho x reader #in ho #in ho x reader

223 notes · View notes

lost-in-thoughts03 · 25 days ago

Text

TiO // Seong Gi-hun

Summary: You hired as Seong Gi-hun's assistant secretary because his primary secretary has a lot of work to do. But is there anything else going on here besides him being your boss?

" I just want to watch you when you take it off."

Warning: 18+, MDNI, au, age gap, younger and older man, jealousy, possessive Gi-hun, boss! Gi-hun, teasing, mutual pining, freaky, forbidden attraction, denial, kissing, unprotected sex, oral (both), grammatical errors

You need a job to cover your tuition fees every semester. Fortunately, an employer accepts your application, and the secretary contacts you for an interview. You ace the interview, leaving the secretary impressed with your responses.

Now, you've been working there for almost three months. You applied for the assistant secretary position because the main secretary has additional responsibilities, and the employer is too busy to handle everything alone—hence the need for extra help.

Your employer is Seong Gi-hun, a billionaire businessman. He’s a tall man with a well-built physique, sharp facial features, and a commanding presence.

His dark brown eyes always seem deep in thought, and his jet-black hair is neatly styled, adding to his refined yet intimidating aura.

Despite his undeniable good looks, there’s a coldness to him—his expressions rarely change, and you’ve never once seen him smile or laugh in his presence.

Unlike other employers who might be more expressive, Gi-hun maintains a stoic demeanor. He is strict and expects tasks to be completed within the deadlines he sets—no extensions, no excuses. If you fail to meet his expectations, there’s only one consequence: a deduction from your salary.

Today is Monday—the day you dread the most. Why? Because it means drowning in stacks of paperwork that need to be compiled and arranged by classification.

The sheer volume is enough to make your head spin. On top of that, your employer, Seong Gi-hun, seems to require your presence at all times, making it nearly impossible to focus.

His strict nature only adds to the pressure, leaving you with no choice but to push through the exhausting start of the week.

Your phone vibrates on your desk, interrupting your already hectic Monday. With a sigh, you glance at the screen—your officemate’s name flashes across it. You answer, already expecting the worst.

" Y/n, the boss wants to see you. Now." They inform you before hanging up, leaving no room for questions.

Straightening your posture, you take a deep breath and make your way to Seong Gi-hun’s office. As you carefully push open the heavy wooden door, the air inside feels heavier, almost suffocating.

He’s there, sitting on his sleek black swivel chair, his fingers rhythmically thumping against the polished wooden surface of his desk. The sound is soft yet unnervingly firm, matching the sharp intensity of his gaze as he locks eyes with you.

For a moment, your breath hitches. His stare is unreadable—piercing, calculating. It holds you in place, demanding your full attention without a single word.

You gather your composure and clear your throat. " Sir, is there something you need?" You ask, keeping your tone as professional as possible.

Silence lingers before he finally speaks, his voice cold and authoritative.

" Close the door."

Just three words, yet they carry enough weight to send a shiver down your spine.

You hesitate for a split second before quietly shutting the door behind you. The faint click of the lock falling into place echoes in the silent room, heightening the tension that already lingers in the air.

Seong Gi-hun leans back in his chair, his fingers now still against the desk. His dark eyes never leave yours, making it impossible to look away.

" Come here." He commands, his voice low but firm.

You swallow hard, forcing your feet to move as you step closer to his desk. Every step feels heavier under his intense gaze. When you finally stop in front of him, he tilts his head slightly, studying you with an unreadable expression.

" You've been working here for three months." He states, his voice calm yet laced with authority.

" Tell me, do you think you’ve done your job well?"

The question catches you off guard. You weren’t expecting a performance evaluation—at least, not in such a direct and unsettling manner.

You straighten your posture, meeting his gaze despite the pressure weighing down on you. " I do my best to fulfill my responsibilities, sir." You answer, keeping your tone professional.

Gi-hun leans forward slightly, resting his elbows on the desk. His presence alone is enough to make the air in the room feel thinner.

" Your best." he repeats slowly, as if testing the words on his tongue. Then, after a pause, he exhales sharply and slides a thick folder toward you. " Then prove it. Organize this by noon. No mistakes."

Your fingers brush against the folder hesitantly before picking it up. The sheer weight of it already tells you that finishing by noon will be nearly impossible—but refusing isn’t an option.

" Understood, sir." You reply, suppressing the sigh threatening to escape your lips.

Gi-hun doesn’t respond. He simply dismisses you with a slight wave of his hand, already shifting his attention back to his laptop as if you’re no longer in the room.

Taking that as your cue to leave, you turn on your heel and make your way out, feeling the weight of both the folder and his expectations pressing down on you.

Just as you turn to leave, his voice cuts through the silence, stopping you in your tracks.

" One more thing."

You pause, glancing back at him. He’s no longer focused on his laptop but instead watching you with that same unreadable gaze.

" You’ll be accompanying me to an important event tonight." He states, leaving no room for negotiation. " I need someone to take note of everything the other businessmen discuss. I don’t trust anyone else to do it properly."

Your lips part slightly in surprise, but you quickly catch yourself. Of course, refusing isn’t an option.

" Understood, sir." You reply, maintaining your professional tone.

Gi-hun leans back in his chair, his fingers lightly tapping against the armrest. " Good. And one more thing—before the event, you’re coming with me to pick out something appropriate to wear."

Your brows lift slightly, but you quickly nod. " Noted, sir."

" Be ready by six." He instructs before finally returning his focus to his laptop, effectively dismissing you.

With a small nod, you clutch the folder tighter in your arms and step out of his office. As the door clicks shut behind you, you let out a slow breath, already dreading what the rest of the day has in store.

…

At exactly 5:40 p.m., the office is eerily silent. All the employees have left for the day, leaving only you and your employer’s secretary in the vast, dimly lit building.

The ticking of the wall clock feels louder, each second amplifying the nervous tension coiling in your chest.

Your heart pounds against your ribs as you sit at your desk, trying to steady your breathing. The thought of being alone with Seong Gi-hun for the rest of the evening unsettles you.

He’s always been intimidating, his presence commanding every room he steps into. But there’s something about the way his sharp, mysterious gaze lingers on you that makes it even harder to breathe.

" Are you ready?" The secretary’s voice jolts you from your thoughts. You quickly nod, clutching your bag tightly as you stand.

" Yes." You reply, though the slight tremor in your voice betrays your nerves.

The secretary gives you a knowing look but says nothing, simply gesturing toward the elevator. " He’s waiting downstairs."

Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself and step forward, knowing there’s no turning back now.

As you step into the elevator, the metallic doors glide shut, sealing you inside with your thoughts. The hum of the descending lift does little to calm your racing heartbeat. You swallow hard, gripping the strap of your bag as if it could anchor you somehow.

When the doors finally slide open, the sight of Seong Gi-hun waiting near the entrance makes your breath hitch.

Dressed in a sleek black suit, he looks effortlessly refined, his presence commanding even in the dim evening light.

His sharp eyes flick toward you the moment you step out, scanning you from head to toe with an unreadable expression.

" You’re late." He states coolly, checking his watch.

Your throat goes dry. " I—I still made it before six, sir." You manage to say, trying to maintain your professionalism despite the nervous energy coiling in your stomach.

Gi-hun doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he tilts his head slightly, as if assessing you. The air between you feels heavy, charged with something you can’t quite name. Then, without another word, he turns on his heel and strides toward the exit.

" Let’s go." He commands.

You quickly fall into step beside him, struggling to match his long, purposeful strides. The air outside is crisp, but it does little to cool the warmth rising in your cheeks.

The car waiting at the curb is sleek and expensive, just as you expected. The driver steps forward to open the door, but Gi-hun raises a hand, stopping him.

" I’ll drive." He says simply, before turning his gaze to you. " Get in."

You hesitate only for a moment before obeying, sliding into the passenger seat. The door shuts beside you with a quiet click, trapping you in the enclosed space with him.

As Gi-hun starts the engine, his sharp gaze flicks toward you once more. " We’ll buy what I need first. After that, we go straight to the event. Understood?"

" Yes, sir." You reply, though your voice is quieter than usual.

Without another word, he shifts the car into drive, and the two of you speed off into the city night.

…

The low hum of the car engine filled the quiet space between you and Gi-hun as he drove down the highway.

The city lights blurred outside the window, casting fleeting shadows across your face. You kept your gaze locked on the passing scenery, your body still stiff despite the comfortable leather seat beneath you.

Gi-hun smirked, eyes flickering toward you for just a second before returning to the road. He could tell—no matter how much time you spent around him, you still held that tension, that unease.

He liked it. He liked how easily he could dominate you without a single word, how your body language always hinted at submission when he spoke.

His fingers flexed against the steering wheel as he thought about it. He wasn’t cruel—no, not in the way others might be—but there was something about the way you responded to him that stirred something deep inside. Something possessive.

Unintentionally, his gaze dropped to your lap.

The skirt you wore had ridden up just slightly, exposing the smooth skin of your thighs. He swallowed hard, his grip on the wheel tightening as a wave of heat surged through him.

Damn it.

He forced his eyes back onto the road, shifting uncomfortably in his seat when he felt the familiar ache between his legs.

What the hell was wrong with him? He wasn’t some creep who couldn’t control himself. He had met plenty of women in his life, but none had ever affected him like this.

Maybe it was because of the first time he saw you. The way you walked into his office on your first day—confident yet reserved, sharp yet soft. He had been hypnotized then, struck by a beauty he hadn’t expected.

And now, despite the hardened mask he wore, despite the walls he had built after everything that had happened in his past, you still managed to unravel him without even trying.

Gi-hun let out a low curse under his breath, forcing his focus back onto the road.

This was dangerous.

And yet, for some reason, he didn’t want to stop.

...

The mall was alive with people, the buzz of conversations blending with the faint sound of music playing from the overhead speakers. You walked ahead, trying to focus on the task at hand—finding the store Gi-hun had mentioned—but your thoughts were a mess.

Because he was behind you.

His presence was too overwhelming, too sharp. It made your skin prickle with unease, though you weren’t sure if it was fear or something else entirely.

You hadn’t even asked for details about this "freaking store" he was looking for, and now you were aimlessly leading the way, pretending like you knew where you were going.

Gi-hun, however, had other things occupying his mind.

His sharp gaze scanned the crowd, immediately locking onto every wandering pair of eyes that dared to linger on you for too long.

Some men weren’t even subtle about it, their glances filled with something that made his blood boil.

His jaw clenched as a wave of jealousy surged through him. He hated it—hated that they were looking at what was his.

Wait.

His?

Gi-hun swallowed the thought down, but his body acted before his mind could catch up.

He stepped closer.

You jolted when you felt the firm press of his chest against your back, your breath hitching. Before you could react, his hand slid onto your waist with ease, fingers firm but not harsh as he redirected you.

" You’re going the wrong way." He murmured, his voice deep and close to your ear.

Your body stiffened at the contact, but you didn’t pull away. Maybe because you couldn’t. Maybe because you didn’t want to.

The two of you kept walking, his hand lingering just a second too long before it fell away. The silence between you stretched, thick and unspoken, neither of you making a move to fill it.

There wasn’t anything to say—no topic that could break whatever tension was wrapping around you both.

And yet, the weight of his touch still burned against your skin.

The moment you both stepped into the store, the salesladies perked up, their warm smiles ready to greet a potential high-profile customer.

" Welcome, sir—"

Gi-hun cut through their greetings with a tight, cold smile—more of an acknowledgment than anything warm. His disinterest was palpable, and the way their smiles faded showed they got the message.

Without another word, he turned to one of the store guards, speaking to him in a low voice. The guard nodded quickly before disappearing into the manager’s office.

You stood there awkwardly, still unsure why he had brought you along. The whole situation felt foreign to you—this wasn’t your world. The expensive clothes, the silent authority Gi-hun held, the way everyone seemed to respond to him with a mix of respect and unease.

Minutes later, the manager appeared.

A bright smile stretched across his face, full of energy and enthusiasm, completely unfazed by Gi-hun’s cold demeanor.

" Gi-hun! You really should visit more often." The manager greeted, shaking his head playfully when his friend remained stoic.

You observed quietly, finding it odd how comfortable this man was despite Gi-hun’s icy exterior. They must be friends, you thought. That, or the manager was simply used to handling difficult personalities.

Then, unexpectedly, the manager’s gaze shifted to you. His expression softened into something more friendly as he smiled.

" And you must be…?" He asked, waiting for an introduction.

You felt heat creep up your neck, flustered by the sudden attention. " Uh, I—"

" You’re blushing." He teased, his grin widening. " I didn’t know Gi-hun could bring such shy company."

Your lips parted, unsure how to respond. You weren’t used to this kind of playful teasing, and your embarrassment only deepened.

Before the manager could continue, Gi-hun stepped in.

His hand casually reached for the man’s collar, giving it a light but firm tug—enough to make his friend straighten up and shut his mouth.

" That’s enough." Gi-hun muttered, his tone carrying a warning edge.

The manager raised his hands in surrender, laughing. " Alright, alright, I get it. You’re possessive."

Gi-hun’s gaze darkened slightly at the comment, but he didn’t bother to correct him. He simply let go and stepped back, signaling the conversation was over.

The manager chuckled, clearly amused by the reaction. He then turned to you and gave a small nod. " I’m Kang Dae-ho. Nice to meet you."

You managed a polite nod in return, still feeling the lingering warmth of your previous embarrassment.

With that, Dae-ho excused himself, leaving you alone with Gi-hun once again.

And for some reason, the air between you two felt heavier than before.

As soon as Dae-ho walked away, Gi-hun exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly. His jaw was still tight, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he turned his focus back to what he came here for—buying clothes for the event.

" Come on." He said, his voice low and firm as he started walking deeper into the store.

You followed, still feeling slightly flustered from the previous interaction. Gi-hun’s reaction had been…unexpected. You weren’t used to anyone getting possessive over you, much less someone like him. But you didn’t dare bring it up.

The two of you stopped in front of a display of suits. Gi-hun ran his fingers over the fabric, inspecting the selection with sharp, discerning eyes. You stood by his side, unsure if you should offer an opinion or just wait silently.

A sales associate approached with a professional smile. " Sir, would you like some recommendations?"

Gi-hun didn’t answer immediately. He glanced at you before looking back at the racks.

" You pick." He said suddenly.

You blinked, startled. " Me?"

He nodded. " You’re the one who has to look at me all night."

Your lips parted slightly, heat creeping back into your face at his choice of words. He was teasing, but there was an undeniable weight behind it.

You cleared your throat, trying to focus. You hesitated for a moment before reaching out and carefully pulling a deep charcoal-gray suit from the rack. " This one…I think it would suit you."

Gi-hun took the hanger from your hands, his fingers briefly grazing yours. He glanced down at the suit, then back at you, his gaze unreadable.

" Hmm…" Was all he said.

The associate quickly stepped in, offering to prepare a fitting room. Gi-hun handed over the suit, then turned his attention back to you. " You coming?"

You hesitated, eyes widening slightly. " Inside?"

He smirked, amused by your reaction. " No. Just wait outside."

You let out a quiet breath, nodding as he walked toward the fitting room.

As you waited, you couldn’t shake the feeling of his eyes on you, even when he wasn’t there. And for some reason, the memory of his hand on your waist lingered far longer than it should have.

You stood outside the fitting room, arms crossed, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. The store was quiet, the occasional rustle of fabric and muffled conversations filling the air.

You tried to focus on anything but the fact that Gi-hun was changing just a few feet away.

Why did he even ask you to pick? Did he actually care about your opinion, or was he just testing you?

Your thoughts were interrupted when the door clicked open.

Gi-hun stepped out, adjusting the sleeves of the charcoal-gray suit you had chosen. The fit was perfect, the material hugging his broad shoulders and lean frame effortlessly. He looked…

Damn.

You swallowed, trying to keep your expression neutral, but the way your eyes lingered didn’t go unnoticed.

Gi-hun smirked. " Not bad?"

You blinked, quickly snapping out of it. " Uh, yeah. It suits you."

His smirk deepened as he took a step closer. " You sure? You were staring pretty hard there."

Your face heated instantly. " I was just—just making sure it fits properly." You muttered, looking away.

Gi-hun chuckled, a deep, low sound that made your stomach twist in an unfamiliar way. He turned back to the mirror, rolling up the cuffs slightly as he inspected himself.

" You have good taste." He admitted, almost as if he was surprised by it.

You huffed, crossing your arms. " What, did you think I was going to pick something terrible?"

He shot you a sideways glance, amusement dancing in his eyes. " Would’ve been a good excuse to make you choose again. Keep you here longer."

You stiffened at his words, your breath catching slightly. Was he just messing with you, or was there something more behind that comment?

Before you could figure it out, the sales associate returned, asking if he wanted any adjustments. Gi-hun nodded, giving a final glance at the mirror before disappearing back into the fitting room.

And you, standing there with your heart pounding in your chest, realized something.

Being around Gi-hun was dangerous. Not because he was cold or distant—but because every little thing he did was starting to get under your skin.

The tension in the small fitting room was almost suffocating. Gi-hun leaned against the mirror, his arms crossed as he watched you with dark amusement.

He had already decided—he liked seeing you flustered, but not in a pathetic, predictable way like Dae-ho’s teasing.

No, he enjoyed pushing you in ways you weren’t ready for, making you react in ways you never expected from yourself.

" Take off my coat." He ordered, his voice low and firm.

You froze.

Your eyes widened slightly as you registered his words, your throat going dry. " W-What?"

Gi-hun tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. " You heard me."

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his gaze on you. " You have functional hands. Why can’t you do it yourself?"

The words slipped out before you could stop them, and the moment they did, you knew you had messed up.

Gi-hun’s expression darkened. He didn’t move, didn’t say anything for a moment—just stared at you with an intensity that made you want to shrink under his gaze. The air grew thick, heavy with unspoken tension.

Regret flickered through you, and without another word, you stepped closer, hesitantly reaching for his coat.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you carefully undid the buttons, knowing full well how ridiculously expensive this suit was.

Sweat started forming at your hairline—not just from the pressure of handling such costly fabric, but from the sheer presence of the man in front of you.

Gi-hun, on the other hand, was completely still, watching you with lazy amusement. His lips twitched upward slightly as he felt your tiny fingers brush against the thin fabric of his clothes.

The warmth of your touch seeped through, and despite himself, he secretly hissed under his breath. His mind taunted him, urging him to push you further—to make you do more—but for once, he found himself unable to form the words.

Not yet.

But he wasn’t done with you.

" Unbutton my shirt."

You snapped your head up to look at him, eyes blown wide. " What?!"

Gi-hun smirked at your reaction. Your cheeks were already burning, and the way your fingers fidgeted at your sides told him everything—this was fun for him.

" You heard me." He repeated, raising a brow, silently daring you to protest again.

You wanted to say no. You really did. But when your gaze locked with his, the air between you thick and dangerous, you knew you had no choice.

With shaky hands, you reached for the first button, barely able to breathe. Gi-hun inhaled sharply when your fingertips brushed against his chest, his breath hitching as you slowly worked your way down.

His chest rose and fell steadily, but each touch made it harder for him to keep his composure.

This was supposed to be a simple tease.

So why the hell did he feel like he was the one losing control?

Your fingers hesitated at the second button, your breath coming out uneven as you felt the warmth of his skin beneath the fabric. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, not when you were this close, not when you were practically undressing him.

Gi-hun, on the other hand, was watching you like a predator. He had started this as a game—a simple trick to see how flustered he could make you.

But now, as your soft fingers brushed against his chest with every undone button, he found himself struggling to keep his breathing steady.

" You're slow." He murmured, his voice lower than usual.

You swallowed hard, not daring to respond. If you spoke, you knew your voice would betray you.

As you reached the third button, his stomach muscles tensed beneath your touch, his breath subtly hitching. You didn’t miss it, and that only made your own heart race faster.

This was ridiculous.

Why was he making you do this? Why were you actually obeying him?

You mustered up whatever courage you had left, forcing yourself to look up at him—but the second your eyes met his, your stomach dropped.

Gi-hun was staring down at you, his gaze unreadable, but there was something darker lurking beneath the surface. Something dangerous. His smirk had faded slightly, replaced with something…else.

Something that made the air between you feel suffocating.

You quickly looked away, your fingers fumbling with the next button. But before you could continue, Gi-hun’s hand shot up, grabbing your wrist.

You gasped softly, startled by the sudden contact.

" That’s enough." He said, voice thick with something you couldn’t place.

You looked at him in confusion, but he didn’t offer an explanation. Instead, he let go of your wrist and took a slow step back, as if trying to put space between the two of you.

You couldn’t ignore the way his chest was rising and falling a little too fast, or the way his jaw clenched as he ran a hand through his hair.

What the hell just happened?

" You—You told me to—"

" Forget it." He cut you off, grabbing his coat from the chair and turning away. " Go pay for the suit. I’ll be out in a minute."

You stood there, still dazed, watching him retreat back into the fitting room. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and your fingers still tingled from where they had touched his skin.

You didn’t know what just happened between you two.

But you did know one thing.

You weren’t the only one affected by it.

The moment you stepped out of the dressing room, Gi-hun let out a shaky breath, his back hitting the wall as he slid down slightly, legs weak from the tension he had barely escaped.

What the hell was that?

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in the way he clenched his jaw. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

He was the one playing with you, testing your limits, enjoying the way you flushed under his gaze. He was the one in control.

So why the hell was he the one struggling now?

His breathing was heavy as he glanced down, cursing under his breath when he saw the obvious bulge in his trousers.

Damn it.

His fists tightened at his sides as he tried to force himself to calm down. He wasn’t some desperate fool who couldn’t control himself. He had been around plenty of women before—none of them ever did this to him. None of them ever got under his skin like you did.

And the worst part? You hadn’t even been trying.

Just the feeling of your soft fingers brushing against his chest, your tiny hands unbuttoning his shirt with hesitant, flustered movements—it had undone him completely.

He groaned lowly, pressing the heel of his palm against his hard length, trying to will it away. But the memory of your touch, your flushed expression, the way you had obediently followed his command despite your embarrassment—it all replayed in his mind, making it even worse.

" Shit." He muttered under his breath.

With a deep inhale, he straightened up, forcing his body to relax. He needed to get it together before he walked out there. The last thing he needed was for you to see him like this—to realize the effect you had on him.

Adjusting his coat slightly to conceal the evidence of his frustration, he took one final deep breath before stepping out of the dressing room. His expression was calm, composed—like nothing had happened.

Like he hadn’t just barely survived the temptation he had created.

The tension in the car was unbearable.

You sat stiffly in the passenger seat, eyes glued to the window, refusing to look at Gi-hun as he buckled his seatbelt.

The memory of what just happened in the dressing room was still fresh in your mind, your fingers still tingling from where they had touched his skin.

A sharp hiss broke the silence.

Your eyes flickered toward him for a split second, just in time to see him shift in his seat uncomfortably. His jaw clenched, his knuckles tightening around the steering wheel.

You didn’t understand at first—until realization hit you.

Oh.

Your face burned instantly, and you whipped your head back toward the window, pretending you hadn’t noticed.

Gi-hun exhaled slowly, gripping the wheel tighter. He was barely holding himself together, and the ache in his trousers was only making things worse.

He hadn’t even fully recovered before getting in the car, and now, trapped in this small space with you, your scent lingering in the air—it was torture.

Neither of you spoke.

For you, it was because you had no idea what to say. The moment you had stepped out of that dressing room, you had decided to act like nothing had happened.

To pretend that your hands hadn’t been all over him, that his chest hadn’t risen and fallen beneath your touch, that you hadn’t felt the heat radiating from his skin.

For Gi-hun, it was because he was dealing with another, more urgent problem—one that refused to go away no matter how much he tried to ignore it.

His grip on the wheel tightened as he pressed his foot on the gas, speeding up. He needed to get to this damn event as quickly as possible.

The last thing he wanted was to show up late.

The second-to-last thing he wanted was to show up with a hard-on.

But right now, he wasn’t sure which was worse.

…

The moment you stepped into the venue, your stomach twisted with anxiety.

The room was grand—gold chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, expensive wine glasses clinking as well-dressed guests laughed and talked effortlessly.

Everyone looked like they belonged here, draped in designer gowns and tailored suits.

And then there was you.

Still in your office uniform, standing awkwardly behind Gi-hun, trying to make yourself as small as possible.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of your sleeve as insecurity crept up your spine. You didn’t belong here. You felt like an outsider, completely out of place among these wealthy, powerful people.

Gi-hun must have noticed because he let out an exaggerated sigh before rolling his eyes. Without warning, he grabbed your arm and pulled you forward, making you stumble slightly.

“ Stop hiding." He muttered low enough that only you could hear.

" But—"

" There’s no ‘but.’" His grip on your wrist tightened slightly, just enough to make you feel his warmth.

" You have no reason to be shy. You’re too damn beautiful to be standing in the background."

Your breath caught in your throat at his words.

Did he just—?

Before you could process it, Gi-hun was already leading you toward his table, where a group of wealthy businessmen were gathered. You felt impossibly small in their presence—men in luxurious suits, women in dresses worth more than your entire salary.

They all greeted Gi-hun with respect, some shaking his hand, others nodding in acknowledgment.

But he didn’t let go of you.

In fact, his grip on your wrist tightened even more, his thumb brushing against your skin in a way that made your heartbeat unsteady.

You stood beside him, too overwhelmed to say anything, your fingers twitching nervously. You could feel their eyes flicker toward you, some curious, others indifferent. You weren’t sure if you wanted to disappear or run out of the room entirely.

As your gaze anxiously scanned the venue, your eyes landed on a familiar figure.

Dae-ho.

The store manager from earlier was across the room, engaged in conversation with a few acquaintances. He looked completely at ease, laughing at something one of them said.

But as if sensing your stare, his eyes suddenly shifted toward you.

And when he saw you standing next to Gi-hun—his grip still firm on your wrist—a smirk slowly spread across his lips.

Oh no.

You had a feeling this night was far from over.

Gi-hun’s grip on your wrist finally loosened as he turned to his business partners. His expression was unreadable, his usual cold demeanor settling back into place.

" This is my assistant." He said, his voice firm and to the point. " She works directly under me."

Your throat tightened when you felt multiple pairs of eyes land on you. You shifted uncomfortably, unsure if you should bow, shake hands, or just stand there and pray for this moment to be over.

Your gaze quickly scanned the men in front of you.

The first one—a man with glasses—was staring at you from head to toe, his sharp eyes analyzing every inch of you. His expression remained neutral, but you couldn’t tell if he was judging you or simply curious. Either way, it made you self-conscious.

The second man had the most intimidating presence. He was tall, well-built, with slicked-back hair and a suit that looked more expensive than your entire apartment. He remained expressionless, barely acknowledging you at first. But then, his gaze flicked toward you, and for a moment, he just…stared.

There was something in his eyes—something unreadable. It wasn’t exactly cold, but it wasn’t welcoming either. He was studying you, as if trying to figure out why Gi-hun had brought you here.

And then there was the last man.

Unlike the others, he greeted you with a wide smile, his eyes twinkling with mischief. " Ah, so this is the assistant." He mused, shooting a teasing glance at Gi-hun. " Didn’t expect you to bring her, Gi-hun. You usually come alone."

Gi-hun shot him a warning look, but the man just chuckled. " Relax, I’m just saying. She’s a pretty one. It’s not every day we see someone like her around you."

Your cheeks burned at his words, and you instantly looked away, unsure of how to respond.

The man laughed at your reaction before leaning slightly toward you. " Don’t mind the others." He whispered conspiratorially. " They’re just trying to figure out what’s so special about you."

Before you could react, Gi-hun subtly stepped in front of you, his broad frame blocking the man’s view. His posture was casual, but you could sense the tension in his stance.

" Enough." Gi-hun muttered, his tone carrying a warning edge.

The man just smirked, raising his hands in surrender. " Alright, alright. No need to get possessive."

The word sent a shiver down your spine.

Possessive?

You glanced up at Gi-hun, but his expression remained cold, unreadable. Yet, the way he subtly shifted closer to you—how his fingers brushed against your wrist as if reminding you he was still there—you couldn’t ignore it.

Whatever this was between you and Gi-hun…

It was only getting more complicated.

The room fell into an eerie silence.

You could feel the weight of everyone's gaze on you, but none felt as heavy as Gi-hun’s.

Hwang In-ho.

The man with the unreadable expression had finally introduced himself, and the way his name rolled off his tongue sent a shiver down your spine. His presence alone was enough to make you uneasy, but his next words nearly made your heart stop.

" A stunning woman like you shouldn’t be hidden behind someone else." In-ho mused, his sharp eyes flicking to Gi-hun briefly before landing back on you.

" How about I take you out to dinner? A fine dining restaurant, nothing less. Someone like you deserves that, don’t you think?"

Your breath caught in your throat.

Did he just…ask you out?

Before you could even process it, Gi-hun’s entire body tensed beside you.

You didn’t have to look at him to know—his clenched jaw, his tightened fists, the rigid stance—he was furious. You had seen him annoyed before, cold and calculating, but this…this was different.

This was something much darker.

The silence dragged on, thick with tension. Then, just when you thought things couldn’t get more uncomfortable, In-ho reached for your hand.

His grip was firm but not forceful as he lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss against your skin.

You gasped softly, your body instinctively freezing in place.

It wasn’t just the action itself—it was the way he did it. The way his unreadable gaze locked onto yours, as if daring you to react. As if daring Gi-hun to react.

And he did.

A sharp click of a tongue broke the silence.

You didn’t even have to turn your head to know it came from Gi-hun. His aura shifted, something dangerous simmering just beneath the surface.

Sang-woo, who had been quietly observing, smirked, his eyes gleaming with amusement. He had never seen Gi-hun like this before—so visibly possessive, so on edge.

And the best part?

Gi-hun didn’t even have a right to be.

You were just his employee. Nothing more.

But the way his fists clenched, the way his breathing grew heavier, the way his entire body was wound tight like a coil ready to snap—he wasn’t acting like just your boss.

No.

He was acting like a man who was one second away from ruining everything just to claim what was his.

Dae-ho, the observant one, stepped in just as the tension reached its peak. His timing was perfect—maybe a little too perfect, as if he had been waiting for the exact moment when Gi-hun was about to snap.

“ Alright, gentlemen.” Dae-ho said with an easygoing smile, clapping his hands together. “ I think we’ve had enough fun, don’t you? Why don’t we all take a seat and actually get to business?”

His words cut through the thick atmosphere like a blade, forcing everyone to momentarily pull back from whatever silent battle they were waging.

Gi-hun exhaled sharply through his nose but said nothing. His hand twitched at his side as if he was still considering throwing a punch, but after a long moment, he scoffed and turned on his heel.

Without another word, he pulled out a chair and sat down, though his posture remained stiff, tension still coiled in his shoulders.

In-ho, on the other hand, simply chuckled under his breath, clearly amused. He ran a hand through his sleek hair before finally taking his seat, casting you one last glance as he did.

Sang-woo followed suit, a smirk still lingering on his lips. He had enjoyed the show—watching Gi-hun wrestle with emotions he clearly didn’t want to acknowledge.

And you?

You were still overwhelmed, your heart racing as you slowly moved to sit beside Gi-hun. You felt small again, caught in the middle of something far more intense than just a business meeting.

Dae-ho, satisfied that he had at least defused some of the immediate hostility, let out a relaxed sigh and plopped down into his own chair.

“ Well then.” He grinned, looking around the table.

“ Shall we begin?”

The meeting had officially started.

But the real battle?

That was still going on—right under the surface.

As the meeting officially began, the air slowly shifted from tense to professional—at least on the surface.

Dae-ho took the lead, going over financial reports and the company’s performance for the past quarter. His tone was confident, smooth, and businesslike, though there was still an undertone of amusement lingering in his voice from the previous exchange.

“ The company is maintaining a steady revenue flow.” He explained, flipping through his reports. “ We’re in a stable position, but if we want to increase engagement and bring in more high-end clients, we’ll need to be proactive.”

He went on to discuss potential strategies—new marketing campaigns, expansion ideas, and partnerships that could boost their market presence. He also detailed the expenses each partner had contributed, ensuring transparency among them.

Meanwhile, you sat quietly beside Gi-hun, diligently taking notes.

It was your job, after all.

Your pen moved swiftly across the notepad, recording key points, figures, and any upcoming plans that were being discussed. Despite the earlier tension, you forced yourself to focus, trying to block out the lingering energy in the room.

But it wasn’t easy.

You could still feel Gi-hun’s presence beside you—his occasional sharp inhales, the way his fingers tapped subtly against the table in impatience.

He wasn’t fully listening; you could tell. His mind was elsewhere, probably still brooding over In-ho’s bold move.

Speaking of In-ho…

You risked a glance in his direction.

He was sitting with perfect posture, his arms resting on the table, listening intently to Dae-ho’s words. But the moment your eyes met his, a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

As if he knew you were thinking about him.

Your breath hitched, and you quickly looked away, gripping your pen tighter.

Damn it.

The rest of the table continued discussing business, bouncing ideas back and forth, debating strategies. Sang-woo occasionally chimed in with a sarcastic remark, Dae-ho kept the energy balanced, and Gi-hun remained mostly silent, responding only when necessary.

But even as the meeting progressed, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were at the center of a silent war between two powerful men.

And that realization made your heart pound even harder.

Your pen nearly slipped from your fingers.

A sharp gasp escaped your lips before you quickly bit down on it, your body stiffening in place.

Gi-hun’s hand.

Warm. Firm. Resting on your thigh like it belonged there.

You glanced down in disbelief, barely breathing as you took in the sight of his fingers against your skin. His touch wasn’t aggressive, but it was undeniably possessive.

It sent a shiver down your spine—one that had nothing to do with the air-conditioned room and everything to do with him.

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears as you tried to regain focus.

This was insane. Completely inappropriate.

You swallowed hard, shifting slightly in your seat in an attempt to shake him off. But he didn’t move. If anything, his grip tightened just slightly—a silent warning.

You turned your head toward him, desperate to catch his attention, to silently question what the hell he thought he was doing.

But Gi-hun…

He didn’t even acknowledge you.

His face remained unreadable, his gaze locked onto his business partners as they continued to argue about strategy.

He nodded at the right moments, gave short replies when needed, but not once did he glance in your direction.

As if his hand wasn’t currently on you.

Then, as if to drive you further into madness, his fingers started moving.

Slow. Deliberate.

Circling against your skin in a teasing motion that made your stomach tighten.

Your breath hitched, fingers clutching your pen tightly as you tried to keep your expression neutral.

No one else at the table noticed.

They were too absorbed in their heated discussion, too busy debating figures and projections to pay attention to the silent game happening right under their noses.

But Gi-hun knew.

He knew what he was doing to you.

And judging by the way the corner of his lips barely, barely twitched upward…

He was enjoying every second of it.

You felt trapped.

Your pulse pounded in your ears, drowning out the voices around you. The room was still alive with debate—Dae-ho trying to keep things balanced while In-ho and Sang-woo threw in their own arguments—but none of it registered in your mind.

Not when his hand was still there.

Still touching you.

Still circling in slow, agonizing motions.

You swallowed thickly, your fingers trembling slightly as you gripped your pen. Your notes were becoming a mess—words smudged, some barely legible.

You had been doing your best to ignore it, to pretend like nothing was happening, but Gi-hun’s touch was making that impossible.

And the worst part?

He still wasn’t looking at you.

Not once did he turn his head, not once did he acknowledge the way your body had tensed under his hand. He remained the picture of calm, his deep voice occasionally chiming in when needed.

But you knew better.

The slight twitch at the corner of his lips. The way his fingers occasionally flexed against your thigh.

He was testing you.

Seeing how far he could push.

Your breath was uneven as you tried, one last time, to shake him off—subtly shifting your leg to the side in a desperate attempt to free yourself.

But the moment you moved, Gi-hun’s fingers tightened.

Firm. Commanding.

You sucked in a breath, your eyes snapping to him in disbelief.

Still, he didn’t look at you.

But this time, you saw it—the way his jaw clenched ever so slightly. The way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.

He wasn’t as unaffected as he pretended to be.

He was just better at hiding it.

And that realization made your stomach tighten even more.

You barely managed to grab his wrist in time.

Your fingers trembled as you held onto him, stopping his hand just before it could slip any further under your skirt. Your heart pounded so hard you were afraid the entire table could hear it.

This was too much.

You leaned toward him, voice barely above a whisper, desperate to regain some control.

“ I…I need to use the bathroom.” You murmured, forcing yourself to sound steady despite the way your entire body was betraying you.

For the first time since this whole ordeal started, Gi-hun turned his head toward you.

His eyes locked onto yours, dark and unreadable.

Then—that smirk.

A teasing, knowing curve of his lips, as if he was fully aware of what he had done to you.

As if he was enjoying watching you squirm.

He let the silence stretch between you, just long enough to make your pulse spike again, before finally nodding.

“ Go ahead.” He said, his tone smooth, almost amused.

You didn’t waste another second.

Pushing your chair back, you stood up as gracefully as you could despite your weak knees. You could still feel his gaze on you, burning into your back as you made your way out of the room.

The second you stepped into the hallway, you exhaled shakily, gripping your hands into fists.

You needed to clear your head.

You needed to breathe.

Because if you didn’t…

You weren’t sure you’d survive the rest of this night.

...

You turned the faucet on, letting the cold water run over your trembling hands before splashing it onto your flushed face.

Get it together.

Your grip on the porcelain sink tightened as you stared at your reflection in the mirror. Your cheeks were still burning, your pupils slightly blown from the overwhelming tension Gi-hun had built between you two.

The way his hand had traveled over your thigh, the teasing circles of his fingers, the undeniable dominance in his touch—it all replayed in your mind like a loop, making your knees weak all over again.

You squeezed your thighs together instinctively, and that’s when you felt it.

The dampness pooling between your legs.

A shaky sigh escapes your lips as you hang your head, gripping the edges of the sink.

This was insane.

He was your boss.

And yet, the way he toyed with you—like he knew exactly what he was doing, like he was waiting for you to finally break—made it impossible to push him away.

You exhaled deeply, reaching for a paper towel and patting your face, hoping to rid yourself of these sinful thoughts.

You just needed to get through this night.

You could deal with the aftermath later.

With one final breath, you straightened your posture and smoothed your skirt, forcing your expression back into something neutral.

Then, gathering the last bit of composure you had left, you stepped out of the bathroom.

But the moment you did—

You froze.

Because standing just outside, leaning casually against the wall with that same damn smirk on his face—

Was Gi-hun.

You barely had time to react before Gi-hun grabbed your wrist and pulled you inside one of the bathroom stalls, the door slamming shut behind him.

Your back hit the cool tiled wall as he pressed in close, his hands braced on either side of you, trapping you in place.

Your breath hitched.

He was too close.

His scent, a mix of expensive cologne and something uniquely him, surrounded you, making your already overwhelmed senses spiral even further.

“ Gi-hun—” You started, voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes flicked down to yours, dark and unreadable. “ That’s sir to you.” He corrected smoothly, his voice low and commanding.

Your stomach flipped at the intensity in his gaze. “ W-Why are you doing this?” You asked, your voice weaker than you intended.

Gi-hun exhaled through his nose, his jaw clenching. His eyes swept over your face, searching, before he finally answered.

“ Because I want you.” He said, the honesty in his tone makes your breath catch.

“ And because I can’t stand watching them look at you like you’re something they can take.”

His admission sent a shiver down your spine.

He leaned in just a fraction closer, enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your cheek.

The fluorescent lights above cast a dull glow over the restroom, the hum of the ventilation system barely covering the distant chatter outside.

You barely register any of it—your entire world has narrowed to the cramped space of the cubicle, where Seong Gi-hun's lips press hungrily against yours.

His hands are everywhere—trailing down your back, gripping your waist as if anchoring himself to you. His body is flush against yours, the flimsy partition behind you rattling slightly with every shift of movement.

The scent of him—faint cologne mixed with something undeniably him—fills your senses, making your head spin.

You gasp as he tugs you even closer, his lips parting just enough to let his tongue sweep against yours, slow and deep.

He groans into the kiss, the sound vibrating through your chest, sending a shiver down your spine. His fingers dig into your hips, desperate, as if he’s afraid this moment will slip away too soon.

Gi-hun pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his breath warm against your lips. His eyes, darkened with want, search yours for something—reassurance, permission, maybe even a hint of the same desperation that’s written all over his face.

" You have no idea how long I've wanted this." He murmurs, voice husky.

Your pulse stutters, and before you can respond, he crashes his lips back onto yours, this time more frantic, more demanding.

The air between you grows thick, heated, each kiss more feverish than the last. His hands slide beneath your shirt, fingertips grazing your bare skin, sending electricity coursing through you.

The reality of where you are—how risky this is—only fuels the fire. The thrill of being caught lingers in the back of your mind, but right now, none of it matters.

All that matters is Gi-hun—the way he holds you like he never wants to let go, the way he breathes your name between kisses, the way he makes you forget everything but him.

The moment Gi-hun’s lips break away from yours, his breath is ragged, his forehead resting against yours. His fingers trace slow, burning patterns along your waist before he speaks, his voice low and rough.

“ Unbutton my shirt.” He orders, his tone laced with something between command and admiration. There’s no hesitation in his voice—just pure confidence, like he already knows you’ll listen.

Your fingers tremble slightly as you reach for the buttons, undoing them one by one, your touch light against the fabric. His eyes never leave you, watching your every movement with a dark intensity.

There’s something about the way he looks at you, something that makes the air feel heavier, makes heat rise to your cheeks.

When the last button comes undone, his shirt hangs loosely around his frame, revealing toned skin beneath. He exhales sharply, his lips curving into a smirk as he runs his fingers along your jaw, tilting your face up to meet his gaze.

“ So obedient.” He murmurs, almost to himself, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. His admiration is clear—not just in his words but in the way he looks at you, like you’re something to be treasured, something he never wants to let slip away.

Before you can react, his lips crash onto yours again, more intense this time, more desperate. His hands slip around your waist, pulling you flush against him, his body warm and solid against yours.

The public restroom, the risk of getting caught—it all fades away. Right now, the only thing that exists is him, and the way he makes you feel completely, utterly his.

As soon as you slip the last button undone, Gi-hun's shirt hangs loosely around his shoulders, exposing the defined lines of his chest. His voice is deep, commanding yet teasing as he gives his next order.

“ Take it off.”

You swallow hard, your fingers moving instinctively to slide the fabric from his shoulders. As the shirt falls away, your eyes drink in the sight before you—toned abs, firm pecs, the dips and ridges of his muscles that look like they were sculpted by the gods themselves.

A sharp inhale escapes you before you can stop it. Your lips part slightly, and without realizing it, you bite down on your bottom lip, eyes roaming over him with pure admiration.

The way his skin glows under the dim light makes your breath hitch, your pulse pounding.

Gi-hun smirks, clearly pleased by your reaction. “ Like what you see?” He teases, his voice dripping with amusement.

You can’t even find the words to respond, too caught up in the sheer perfection of him. Noticing your dazed expression, he takes your hand in his, his fingers warm and firm as he slowly guides it up to his chest.

The moment your fingertips brush against his skin, he tenses slightly, his breath hitching.

Your touch glides down, tracing over the ridges of his abs, feeling the tautness beneath your fingertips. When your hand reaches his stomach, he lets out a sharp hiss, his muscles twitching under your touch.

His grip tightens around your wrist, his eyes dark and filled with something unreadable—desire, control, something raw and unspoken.

“ Careful.” He murmurs, his voice lower now, raspier. “ You’re playing with fire.”

And yet, the way he watches you, the way he lets you explore him, tells you he doesn’t mind getting burned.

His fingers trailed along the back of your hand, guiding it slowly—deliberately—down to the hardened length straining against his trousers.

A sharp hiss escaped his lips as he felt your delicate fingers brush over him, even through the thick fabric.

His grip tightened around your wrist, pressing your palm against his arousal, forcing you to feel just how much he needed you.

" Look at what you do to me." He murmured, voice thick with desire. His breathing was ragged, uneven.

" Every damn time I talk to you, I end up like this—aching, desperate, ready to ruin you."

His free hand moved to the zipper of his trousers, dragging it down agonizingly slowly. Without breaking eye contact, he took your wrist and slid your hand inside, letting you feel the heat of him through the damp fabric of his boxers.

Your breath hitched. The moment felt dizzying, overwhelming, sending a shiver through your spine. Your thoughts blurred, overtaken by the sheer intensity of his presence.

His lips ghosted over your ear as he whispered, " It's tempting…to bend you over this fucking table and show everyone exactly how much I want you."

A sharp nip at your neck made you gasp, your body melting against his. Your fingers twitched around him, stroking tentatively, feeling the slickness of his arousal seeping through his boxers.

Gi-hun groaned—a deep, guttural sound that sent a pulse straight between your legs.

Then, his grip on your hair tightened.

" Get on your knees."

The order was hushed, firm, and left no room for defiance.

Your body moved instinctively, sinking before him without hesitation. His darkened gaze flickered with something primal as he looked down at you—on your knees, waiting, eager. It nearly unraveled him.

" Fuck—" He exhaled, fingers threading into your hair before gathering it into his fist, pulling just enough to make your scalp tingle.

" Such a good girl." He murmured, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He guided your face forward, pressing it against the warmth of his bare stomach, the sharp ridges of his abs flexing beneath your lips.

" Lick."

It was a simple command, but his voice dripped with sinful intent.

Your tongue flicked out hesitantly, tracing along the defined lines of his abdomen, feeling the heat of his skin beneath your lips. His breath hitched, fingers tightening in your hair as his entire body tensed.

A deep, guttural groan rumbled from his chest as his head tilted back, eyes fluttering shut in pure, unfiltered pleasure.

His restraint was slipping. And you knew it.

And you weren’t about to stop now.

Your warm breath fanned against his skin as your tongue glided along the sculpted lines of his abs. The way his muscles tensed beneath your lips sent a rush of heat straight between your thighs.

He groaned low in his throat, the sound dark and guttural, his grip on your hair tightening.

" That’s it…such a good girl for me." He murmured, his voice thick with approval.

His other hand came to cradle your jaw, his thumb pressing lightly against your chin, guiding your head lower. " You know exactly where I want that mouth next, don’t you?"

Your lashes fluttered as you looked up at him, eyes dark with unspoken need. His smirk deepened at your expression—so eager, so obedient. He let out a shaky breath, his self-control fraying by the second.

" Undo my belt."

Your fingers trembled slightly as you obeyed, reaching for the leather strap around his waist.

The soft click of the buckle echoed between you, followed by the slow, teasing slide of the belt slipping through the loops.

You could feel how hard he was beneath his trousers, straining against the fabric, desperate for relief.

He let out a low chuckle, watching you with a predatory gleam in his eyes. " So delicate…but I know you can handle this."

You swallowed hard as you unbuttoned his pants, pulling the zipper down the rest of the way. The moment you did, his boxers barely contained the hardness beneath, a damp spot visible where his arousal had already leaked through.

His fingers tightened in your hair, tilting your head back. " Open that pretty mouth for me."

A shiver ran down your spine as you parted your lips, your breath hitching when he ran his thumb along your bottom lip, teasing you. His chest rose and fell with deep, controlled breaths, trying to maintain the last shred of his restraint.

" Fuck…you have no idea how long I’ve wanted this."

Gi-hun’s hips rolled forward slightly, pressing himself against your lips through the fabric, forcing you to feel just how desperate he was for you.

He groaned at the contact, his other hand caressing your cheek before guiding your mouth exactly where he wanted you.

" Now be a good girl and take care of me.”

Your breath caught in your throat as he pressed himself against your lips, the heat of him radiating through the fabric of his boxers.

His fingers tangled in your hair, his grip firm yet teasing, as if testing the limits of his own control.

" You feel that?" He murmured, his voice thick with desire. " That’s what you do to me. Every damn time."

His other hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your parted lips, smearing the warmth of his arousal against your skin.

He exhaled a shaky breath, tilting his head back for a moment, as if gathering himself.

But then his gaze dropped to you again, dark and dangerous. " Look at you…on your knees, waiting so patiently. You like this, don’t you?"

You swallowed hard, unable to answer, your body reacting before your mind could catch up. He chuckled lowly, the sound vibrating deep in his chest.

" Such a good girl."

With a slow, deliberate movement, he finally tugged his boxers down just enough, freeing himself from the tight constraint. His arousal stood heavy and thick before you, the sight alone making your stomach coil with anticipation.

His fingers traced along your jaw, tilting your head up slightly so he could drink in the expression on your face—your wide, expectant eyes, the soft parting of your lips.

" You know what to do." He murmured, voice dangerously low. " Show me just how good you can be."

He guided your head forward, his grip never loosening as he watched you with dark intensity. The heat between you was suffocating, every breath laced with the unspoken tension crackling in the air.

And when your lips finally parted for him, his breath stuttered. His fingers tightened in your hair.

" Fuck—"

His control was slipping. And he was about to lose himself completely to you.

Your lips part as he moves slowly, teasing, dragging out the moment just to watch you squirm. His dark, hooded eyes stay locked onto yours, drinking in every little reaction—every twitch of your mouth, every shallow breath. He knows exactly what he's doing, savoring the power he has over you.

" Look at you." He murmurs, voice dripping with amusement. " So eager to take me, hmm?"

His words send a shiver down your spine, heat pooling in your core. His hips move with deliberate control, each slow thrust forcing you to feel every inch of him.

Your throat tightens around him, and his breath stutters—a sharp inhale, his chest rising and falling with ragged need.

" Fucking hell." He groans, his fingers tangling in your hair. " So fucking perfect like this."

Without warning, he pushes deeper, forcing you to take him further than before. Your throat constricts, a gagged gasp escaping as your eyes flutter shut.

A sharp, choked sound follows, your body instinctively trying to adjust, but he doesn’t let up. He watches you struggle for a moment, his grip tightening in your hair as if he’s daring himself to lose control.

" Fuck, that's it." He hisses. " You can take more, can't you?"

You try to nod, but the intensity of the moment has your body trembling. A muffled whimper vibrates against him, sending a curse tumbling from his lips.

Then, just as suddenly, he pulls back, letting you gasp for air. A thick strand of saliva stretches between you, clinging to his length, glistening under the dim light.

His thumb traces your swollen lips, smearing the wetness across them. " Messy little thing." He murmurs, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. " And so damn pretty like this."

The look in his eyes—possessive, hungry—tells you this is far from over.

“ If you keep looking at me like that.” He whispers, his fingers tightening on your hips, “ I won’t be able to hold back.”

Before you can catch your breath, he grabs you, pulling you up with effortless strength and slamming your back against the wall.

A sharp gasp escapes your lips, but it's swallowed immediately as his mouth crashes onto yours, hungry, desperate.

His tongue pushes past your lips, dominating yours with feverish need, as if he can't get enough of you.

" Fuck." He growls against your mouth, his voice thick with lust. " You drive me insane, you know that?"

His hands are everywhere—possessive, demanding. One grips your thigh, hiking it up against his waist, while the other snakes down, sliding under your skirt with shameless urgency.

His fingers skim along the lace of your damp knickers, and he chuckles darkly, pulling back just enough to let you see the smug, hungry look in his eyes.

" So fucking wet for me already." He murmurs, dragging his fingers over the soaked fabric, teasing you, making you arch against him. " You love this, don’t you? Love how I touch you?"

A whimper escapes you as he presses a little harder, rubbing slow, torturous circles. His teeth graze your lower lip before Gi-hun bites down—sharp, claiming—earning a sharp gasp from you.

He soothes it with his tongue, his breath hot against your mouth.

" You take me so well." He praises, his voice low and reverent, filled with pure desire. " Always so perfect for me. So fucking tight, so eager. You were made for this—made for me."

His fingers push aside the fabric, gliding through your slick heat, teasing your entrance before dipping just the tip inside, enough to make you shudder.

His lips move to your jaw, then your neck, biting, sucking, marking you as his.

" That's it, baby." He groans against your skin, feeling the way you react to his every touch. " Let me hear you. Let me feel how bad you need me."

Gi-hun's pace grows rougher, more insistent, as his control frays. And with the way he's looking at you—like he's about to ruin you—you know this is only the beginning.

Before you can react, he grabs you, pulling you up with raw strength and slamming your back against the wall.

The impact steals your breath, but he doesn’t give you a chance to recover—his mouth crashes onto yours, all hunger and desperation. His lips move fiercely against yours, his tongue sweeping inside to claim you, devouring every moan you let slip.

" Damn, you taste so fucking good." He growls against your lips, his voice rough, thick with desire. " I could kiss you like this forever."

His hands are restless, roaming, exploring. One grips your thigh, hoisting it against his hip, pressing you hard against the wall.

The other snakes downward, slipping beneath your skirt with shameless urgency. His fingers graze your inner thigh, teasing you, taking his time like he enjoys feeling you squirm beneath him.

" You're already soaking through." He murmurs against your lips, amusement lacing his voice as he brushes over the damp fabric of your knickers.

His fingers press firmly against your heat, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that make your body jolt.

" Fuck!" He groans, pulling back just enough to look at you—your lips kiss-swollen, your breath shaky. " You love this, don’t you? Love how I touch you?"

You barely manage a nod before he bites down on your lower lip, hard enough to make you gasp. He soothes the sting with his tongue, then trails hot, open-mouthed kisses down your jaw, to your neck. His teeth scrape against your skin before he bites, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.

" That’s it.” He praises, his breath hot against your pulse. " Such a good girl for me. Always so fucking perfect."

His fingers push past the lace, sliding between your slick folds, teasing your entrance, but never quite giving you what you crave.

He groans at how wet you are, his forehead pressing against yours as he rubs his fingers over your clit, slow and torturous.

" You take me so damn well, baby." He murmurs, his lips brushing against yours, his breath ragged. " Always so tight, always ready for me. You were made for this—made for me."

Gi-hun sinks a finger inside, and you choke on a moan, gripping onto his shoulders as your walls clench around him. His dark eyes stay locked on you, watching every little reaction, feeding off your pleasure.

" Fuck, I love how you react to me." He whispers, curling his fingers just right, drawing a sharp cry from you. " You wanna cum for me already, don’t you? You're so fucking desperate for it."

His smirk is wicked as he adds another finger, thrusting deeper, rougher. His other hand grips your thigh tighter, keeping you pinned against the wall as his fingers work you over mercilessly. His breath is hot against your ear as he growls,

" Let go for me, baby. Be a good girl and cum all over my fingers."

And with the way he's touching you—possessive, relentless, like he wants to ruin you—you know you won't last much longer.

His fingers move faster, thrusting deep inside you with a relentless pace, stretching you, filling you.

The wet sounds of your arousal mix with the sharp, ragged breaths escaping both of you, the air between you thick with heat and desire.

Gi-hun watches you, his dark, hungry eyes locked onto your face, taking in the way your lips part, the way your body trembles as you struggle to keep yourself upright against the wall.

" That's it, baby." He murmurs, his voice dripping with satisfaction. " You're so fucking close, aren't you? I can feel you clenching around me."

His fingers curl inside you, hitting that perfect spot over and over, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you.

Your moans grow louder, needier, and his smirk widens. He loves this—loves knowing he’s the one making you fall apart.

" Shit, you feel so fucking good." He groans, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath hot and heavy. " So damn tight for me…I could do this all night, just watching you come undone on my fingers."

Your hands clutch at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as the pressure builds inside you, winding tighter and tighter.

His free hand slides up your body, slipping under your shirt to cup your breast, his thumb rolling over your hardened nipple.

The added sensation makes you gasp, your body arching into him.

" Fuck, look at you." He breathes, his fingers moving even faster. " You're shaking. You wanna cum so bad, don’t you?"

You nod desperately, unable to form words, your legs threatening to give out. Gi-hun chuckles, low and dark, his lips brushing against your ear.

" Then do it, baby. Be a good girl and cum for me. Let me feel you fall apart."

The moment he says it, your body gives in, pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your walls tighten around his fingers, a sharp cry escaping your lips as the orgasm rips through you.

He doesn’t stop—he keeps thrusting, drawing it out, making sure you feel every last second of pleasure.

" Fuck, that’s it." he groans, watching you with pure hunger. " Shit, you’re so fucking beautiful like this."

As your body trembles from the aftershocks, he finally slows, his fingers still buried deep inside you, lazily stroking you through the last waves of bliss.

Gi-hun brings his hand up, his fingers glistening with your arousal, and smirks before slipping them into his mouth, groaning as he tastes you.

" Sweet as fucking honey." He murmurs, his eyes dark with promise. " And I’m not even close to being done with you."

With that look in his eyes, you know he means it.

With a desperate need that matches your own, he swiftly tugs at your skirt, yanking it down along with your panties, leaving you bare before him.

The cool air against your heated skin sends a shiver down your spine, but the way he looks at you—hungry, possessive—sets your entire body ablaze.

Before you can react, he grabs you, pulling you up with raw strength and slamming your back against the wall.

The impact steals your breath, but he doesn’t give you a chance to recover—his mouth crashes onto yours, all hunger and desperation.

His lips move fiercely against yours, his tongue sweeping inside to claim you, devouring every moan you let slip.

" Damn, you taste so fucking good." He growls against your lips, his voice rough, thick with desire. " I could kiss you like this forever."

His hands are restless, roaming, exploring. One grips your thigh, hoisting it against his hip, pressing you hard against the wall.

The other snakes downward, slipping beneath your skirt with shameless urgency. His fingers graze your inner thigh, teasing you, taking his time like he enjoys feeling you squirm beneath him.

" You're already soaking through." He murmurs against your lips, amusement lacing his voice as he brushes over the damp fabric of your knickers.

His fingers press firmly against your heat, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that make your body jolt.

" Fuck!" He groans, pulling back just enough to look at you—your lips kiss-swollen, your breath shaky. " You love this, don’t you? Love how I touch you?"

You barely manage a nod before he bites down on your lower lip, hard enough to make you gasp. He soothes the sting with his tongue, then trails hot, open-mouthed kisses down your jaw, to your neck.

His teeth scrape against your skin before he bites, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.