#How did you manage to send that all in one ask

[koogalaxzy]

big, bad boss | p. sunghoon

pairing: boss! sunghoon x fem. reader genre: smut, enemies to fwbs to (?) wc: 23k+ summary: You can handle Park Sunghoon’s insults, his impossible standards, even his hands all over you after hours. What you can’t handle? The possibility that the man you swore to never fall for might just be the only one you can’t let go of. content warnings: toxic sunghoon!! he’s so controlling in this but it’s hot so he gets a pass (from me). unprotected sex, public sex, angry sex, hate sex, desk sex, bathroom sex, basically ALL the sex lol. oral (fem receiving), fingering, use of sex toys, power imbalance, dom/sub dynamics, a little bit of humiliation kink, dirty talk, jealousy, possessiveness, slight dubcon (consensual but power-imbalanced). enemies-to-fwb-to-lovers. emotional constipation from literally everyone. cat mom reader & (eventually) cat dad sunghoon. brief pregnancy scare. pls do not look for healthy boundaries or communication in this fic, this is pure office filth. a bit of domestic vibes at the end. a/n: first sunghoon fic WHEW. this one’s been simmering for a while guys. literally came to me while watching the no doubt mv, i was like fawk he looks way too good in a suit… i need him in an office setting immediately. disclaimer: the way i write him here is absolutely not how i think he is irl. the only accurate thing is him being a neat freak lol. oh, and me calling him handsome 28473 times because… well, he is. anyways!! pls pls pls lmk what you think 🥺 and THANK YOU for all the love on my previous fic, the new follows, the asks—everything!!! *sends one million flying kisses through your screen*

Becoming important at a job you despise is… well, it’s definitely not a good feeling.

You're reminded of this unfortunate fact every single day at your corporate job, where even though the paycheck is attractive, you're constantly drowning under the immense pressure exerted by your jerk of a boss.

Park Sunghoon has exactly one redeeming quality and that is his stupidly handsome face. But everything else about him is so rotten, you can't even enjoy glancing at his perfect features without a bitter feeling pooling deep in your stomach, similar to the one you get moments before hurling.

You might be wondering what exactly he did to warrant this hatred. The better question would be, what hasn't he done? From your very first week, Sunghoon was a complete asshole who had you running to the bathroom in tears after he openly called your work "uninspired garbage" a "colossal waste of time," and even claimed that hiring someone so inexperienced was an insult to the company's standards.

Funnily enough, you managed to climb the ranks within just one year and found yourself working directly under him. Though you couldn't even celebrate your promotion because being closer to Sunghoon only multiplied your misery. It was safe to say your life was one big ball of stress thanks to him. 

So to cope you developed a rigorous self-care routine which consisted of pilates, drinking only decaffeinated beverages, attending overpriced meditation sessions, and even trying acupuncture.

But your favorite method to decompress involved channeling your frustrations toward the subject of all your afflictions. Sometimes that included taping his picture onto a punching bag and going absolutely feral.

Unfortunately (and embarrassingly) for you, not all your tension was purely angry…

Even if it hurt your soul to admit it your boss was exactly your type physically. Like, why the hell was he always scowling when he literally had the face of an angel? Really, nobody could blame you if your pent-up anger occasionally morphed into sexual frustration.

And yeah, you dealt with that too. Usually with your hands…and your collection of sex toys.

Which was exactly why you found yourself standing awkwardly in a discreet adult shop tucked away in the wealthier part of the city. You chose it because it was the farthest possible distance from your neighborhood, drastically reducing the chance of running into any nosy neighbors.

You shuffled curiously through the aisles, giggling at the sheer size of some toys. A few of them even had the word “monster” in the labels.

You currently had one of those ridiculous monster dildos in your hand wondering how anyone could possibly fit something like that inside them. You briefly considered taking it home, purely for research purposes, of course.

Just as you were inspecting the absurdly graphic details printed on the toy's box, someone stepped next to you way closer than necessary. Who stood this close to someone while browsing monster-sized dildos?

Giving them a subtle side glance, you realized it was a man. Tall enough that you could barely see beyond his chin without obviously staring. A black mask covered most of his face, obscuring his identity. You cleared your throat uncomfortably and walked away, an odd feeling tingling along your spine from the stranger's presence.

You browsed for a little while longer before deciding on just two items—the ridiculously gigantic dildo and a discreet rose toy. As you joined the checkout line, you noticed there was only one other person ahead of you, but unfortunately, she seemed to be having trouble with her card so it was taking a while.

The stranger from earlier joined the line directly behind you, making you sigh in irritation. Just your luck.

Your skin prickled uncomfortably as he stepped even closer, despite the line clearly not moving. Right. Your therapist had repeatedly emphasized setting clear boundaries, something you admittedly weren’t great at. Now seemed like a perfect time to practice that.

You turned abruptly, nostrils flaring with barely concealed anger. “Excuse me,” you snapped, emphasizing every syllable. “Have you never heard of personal space? You’re standing way too close, so if you could kindly step back, that would be great.”

He tilted his head slightly, eyes flickering downward to the giant dildo box you were still clutching tightly, then back up to your face as you tapped your foot impatiently. A soft snort escaped him. Was he mocking you?!

“Back off, jerk” you hissed the insult through gritted teeth before turning your back to him again.

“I can’t believe the first time you decide to stand up for yourself is in a sex shop.”

Do you know that dreadful feeling that washes over you right before disaster strikes?

That was exactly how you felt when you recognized that voice. A voice belonging to none other than your daily tormentor.

Slowly, you turned around again. He’d pulled his mask down and pushed his cap up, fully revealing his unfairly attractive face. A slight smile graced his lips, probably the first genuine smile you'd ever seen from him in the entire miserable year you'd known Park Sunghoon.

“Fucking hell…” you whispered, eyes growing to the size of saucers, knees feeling dangerously weak.

Your fight-or-flight instincts chose precisely that moment to kick in, and you reacted in possibly the worst way imaginable: you bolted. Unfortunately, you bolted with both unpaid items still in your hands.

You didn’t even realize your mistake until you were sitting in your car, chest heaving, heart hammering so hard you could hear it in your head. Panic clawed up your throat when you saw the items still clutched in your hand. With a strangled cry, you tossed the incriminating bag out your car window and drove away at breakneck speed, half-expecting sirens at any second.

Seriously, what were the odds of bumping into your boss at a sex you shop?!

The next morning you dragged yourself reluctantly into your workplace, looking as close to a corpse as humanly possible. You hadn’t slept at all, spending the entire night drafting your resignation letter. Forty different versions until you decided on one that didn’t seem too much like trauma dumping.

You had a million reasons to quit already, but after the mortifying nightmare of Sunghoon catching you holding a monster dildo box at a sex shop and calling him a jerk? Yeah, that one topped the list. 

Maybe this was just the universe finally screaming at you to do better for yourself.

Still, dread knotted in your stomach at the thought of suddenly being unemployed. Fucking Park Sunghoon�� Did he ever get tired of ruining your life?

Your coworkers greeted you warmly as you walked past them, but several quickly stepped aside after seeing your vacant stare and pale complexion. You overheard hushed whispers: "Is she okay?" "She looks terrible”. You ignored them all.

Once you reached your boss’s office door, you paused, noticing how your hand trembled as you raised it to knock. Taking a shaky breath, you rapped twice.

“Come in,” he called, and you pushed open the door, wincing at its squeak. Had it always been that loud? Well, you wouldn't really know since you immediately dissociated every time you entered this office.

His dark eyes flickered upward, flashing briefly before he returned his attention to the files on his desk. “I hope that’s the corrected version of last week's report in your hand,” he said, pushing up his reading glasses.

God, why did he have to look so attractive in those stupid glasses? You wished he’d wear them more often, preferably in situations other than berating you. Shit—those sleepless nights must’ve fried your brain. You should feel nothing but deep, burning hatred toward this man right now. He was actively ruining your life!

“Erm…no. It’s actually—” You stepped forward hesitantly and placed the letter on his desk, sliding it towards him as if feeding a hungry lion, then stepping quickly away.

“A resignation letter?” he questioned impassively, picking up the envelope and glancing at your shaky handwriting on the envelope. There were definitely a few tear stains visible on the surface.

“Yes, sir. And I wanted to apologize sincerely for yesterday. It was extremely inappropriate of me. There are other reasons, too… they’re all listed in there.” Your voice practically died in your throat under his intense stare.

He sighed deeply and set the letter down without bothering to open it. “Y/N, can I be frank with you?” he started and you braced yourself. 

“You’re too stubborn, impulsive most of the time, overly emotional, defensive—”

Your jaw dropped open, ready to protest, but he held up a hand silencing you before you even started.

“But you’re also one of the hardest workers on this floor. You bring fresh ideas, you’re meticulous to a fault, you push the team to improve. A perfectionist like me… exactly what this company values.”

“If this is your way of convincing me to stay—”

“I’m not finished,” he interrupted sharply. “You’re all those things, sure. But one thing I never took you for was a coward.”

Your entire body went rigid with rage and it ignited so fast in your chest you could not stop the next words from coming out. “I am not a coward. I'm finally putting myself first! Do you honestly think you can say all those horrible things about me and then smooth it over with a couple of generic compliments? That’s not how this works! From day one you’ve made it your personal mission to make my work life miserable! And don’t even try feeding me some bullshit about seeing potential or trying to build my character or whatever ‘tough love’ corporate crap you're about to spew, because I won’t believe it for a second!”

You were shouting now, pretty sure everyone outside could probably hear you, but you’d reached a point beyond caring.

“And while we’re busy listing adjectives for each other,” you continued breathlessly, “let me tell you exactly what you are! You’re the most self-centered, sociopathic, egomaniacal, narcissistic, emotionally constipated, manipulative, control freak bastard I’ve ever known! I’m quitting because of you. I can't stand being here another second, because I can’t stand you!”

You stood there, chest heaving, waiting to see what the devil in designer glasses would do next.

His expression stayed maddeningly neutral until the faintest curl ghosted across his mouth. A smile? Why on earth was Park Sunghoon smiling? Had he finally lost it? Or had you? Because that was definitely a smirk, and now he was rising from his chair, closing the distance between you.

A million panic-scenarios flashed through your head. Maybe he just wanted to yell at you up close. Maybe he planned to throttle you on the spot. Murderer wasn’t even on the list of insults you’d hurled at him but—

“There she is,” he murmured darkly. “The pretty thing I saw in the sex shop. For a moment I doubted it was you… someone with that much fire, that much backbone. But here you are again.”

He stopped so close you could pick out the mint on his breath under the expensive cologne. Your brain was so scrambled you could do nothing but count every mole on his flawless skin, and notice the fact that he didn’t appear to have a single visible pore. What in the fresh hell was happening?

“Language,” he chided softly, apparently you’d spoken your confusion aloud. “Just because I let you scream at me doesn’t mean you can use whatever words you like.”

Warmth flooded your skin, and your tongue stuck to the roof of your dry mouth. What was this weird sensation? It felt as if you’d wandered into a dream, standing bare in a cage with a lion prowling around you. Sunghoon’s gaze was fiercer than ever.

“Uhm… I don’t understand—”

“Let me clarify.” His voice dropped into a velvety tone. “I won’t claim I never meant those things I said, but they weren’t out of malice. If anything, I wanted to see how far you could go before you stopped playing nice.”

You walked back into the wall and he followed, not touching yet but close enough that his body heat curled around you. “Don’t shrink back now,” he whispered. “Show me what that sharp little mouth can do.”

Your lips parted in indignation only for his grin to widen, stealing the breath and every comeback right out of you. He had perfectly straight teeth and unnervingly sharp canines. They were almost vampiric. Was your boss a vampire? That would explain why working for him felt like being bled dry day after day.

But right now, as those midnight eyes pinned you in place, the only thing you knew for sure was that you were in far deeper than any resignation letter could fix. 

And then all those swirling thoughts in your head stopped because he kissed you, brutally hard, swallowing your gasp of shock. His hand tangled roughly in your hair, tipping your head back until you were at his mercy.

His mouth trailed hot kisses across the soft skin of your neck, you bit your lip if only to try to contain the whimpers that were threatening to spill out of you. His sharp canines sunk softly into your skin and he sucked the spot after in almost a soothing manner.

It felt as though you’d lost your job, your mind, and apparently your self-respect—but fuck if you didn’t suddenly feel alive for the first time in months.

When he kissed you again it turned savage quick, all the pent-up frustration, a year’s worth of anger and denial spilling out in the space of a few ragged breaths. 

Sunghoon’s hands found your waist, gripping you hard enough to bruise. With barely a grunt as warning, he shoved you back until you collided with the desk, your palms splaying behind you for balance.

He crowded in, not giving you a second to reconsider. It was as if he could sense your hesitation and didn’t plan on letting you recover it. Your thighs hit the edge of the desk and he pinned you there, the solid line of his body fitting between your legs as he bent to nip your jaw, then your throat again, his breath hot and wild against your skin.

“Still want to quit?” he murmured, hands already hiking your skirt. “Or are you going to admit you need this as much as I do?”

Your laugh came out shaky. “I’d rather beg for anything but this job, asshole—”

He cut you off pushing your underwear aside and slipping a finger inside, harder than you expected, and so skilled it almost made you cry. Your hips jerked up helplessly, humiliation and need mixing into something molten.

“That’s right,” Sunghoon growled. “You love this, don’t you? Making a mess all over my fingers, desperate to be fucked by your boss. Never thought you’d be such a needy little thing.”

You hated how your body responded to every filthy word. His thumb circled your clit mercilessly and you gasped. “You should see yourself, whimpering on my desk,” he taunted. “I bet that monster dildo you picked out was just wishful thinking… thinking about getting filled up, stretched out, but you wanted the real thing, didn’t you?”

You managed a glare, but it drifted down when he started undoing his belt and freeing himself. The sight of his cock made your mouth go dry. He was big. Intimidatingly so. There was a split second of panic in your eyes, and he saw it, smirking as he lined himself up with you.

“What’s wrong?” he whispered, rubbing the tip of his cock against your entrance. “Are you scared? You can still run to HR and tell them about your big, bad boss. Or you can stay right here and take every fucking inch like a good girl.”

When he saw you had no intention of stopping him, he pushed in slowly and didn’t stop until he bottomed out, hips flush with yours. The stretch was dizzying, almost too much, but your body greedily tried to take more, clenching around him.

“Shit—so fucking tight,” he groaned, his voice breaking a little, grip bruising on your hips. “You’re gonna have to loosen up a bit, baby. I can’t move.”

Your walls we’re hugging him so hard he got scared he’d get stuck in there for a second (Nof that it would be such a bad thing). But then you relaxed as you got used to his size and he started moving slowly.

You whimpered, nails digging into the wood. “God, Sunghoon…” 

“Yeah, moan my name just like that,” he rasped, snapping his hips forward and pulling back only to slam in deeper. “You want everyone out there to know who’s fucking you stupid?”

Every word had you spiraling, your body burning, arching to meet his thrusts. The filthy rush of his dominance, the grip of his hands, the way he bent you back over his desk and took what he wanted—every bit of it broke down your defenses. He leaned over you, one hand gripping your jaw, forcing your gaze up to meet his.

“Eyes on me,” he ordered. “You don’t come until I tell you, got it?”

You nodded, barely coherent. All the nerves in your body lit up from the pressure and the brutal rhythm of his cock slamming into you. He pushed harder, deeper, and relentlessly.

“You’re mine now,” he snarled, biting at your throat. “My dirty little office slut, letting your boss fuck you on his desk because you couldn’t help yourself.”

“Y—yes,” you gasped, broken and burning for him.

“That’s right. Cum for me, right now. Show me how much you need it.”

As you fell apart, trembling and ruined against his desk, you realized you’d never let anyone talk to you like this—but god, you liked it when he did.

So, you didn’t quit. 

Instead, you trudged back into the office the next morning. Sore in places you’d rather not recall and wishing you could blot out yesterday’s debauchery from your body with industrial-grade bleach.

Things honestly couldn’t have gone worse. You’d marched into Sunghoon’s office to let out a year’s worth of grievances, and sure, you’d “let it all out”… just not in the way you’d planned. 

He still refused to accept your resignation, and there was zero chance you were marching to HR after engaging in the world’s most ridiculous office affair. Everyone knows the employee with less power always gets burned, and you were not leaving without your full paycheck.

Waiting for the elevator, you opened your phone’s camera, angling your neck to check the damage. Not even half a bottle of foundation could fully cover the vampire bites Sunghoon had branded you with. 

You dabbed your skin one last time before the elevator dinged and, as if conjured by your anxiety, in walked the devil himself.

“Good morning,” he said, and it took genuine effort not to flinch under his gaze.

“Uh, morning,” you muttered, pressing yourself into the farthest corner of the elevator, doing your best to look small and invisible.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked, voice casual. If you weren’t so on edge, you’d have given him the side-eye. Since when did the man who regularly worked you into exhaustion care about your rest?

“As well as I could manage,” you replied, lips pressed tight.

“Hmm. I did go a little rough on you yesterday.” He said it as if he was apologizing for a harsh tennis match, not for nearly rearranging your insides.

A dust mote or possibly your own panic got lodged in your throat, and you started coughing. It took you a few seconds to recover and all you could manage was a hoarse “Let’s not speak of that ever again.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not dying to have the office know about our little secret either.”

Of course he was an ass about it. You rolled your eyes. “You think I am? For the record, I tried to quit. But no, Mr. Spoiled Sunghoon has to get his way, as always!”

He turned fully toward you, blocking the doors with that broad frame. “You’re calling me spoiled when you’re throwing a fit like this? And, for the record, I was about to suggest we find someplace more private to continue our… business instead.”

Your jaw dropped. Was he seriously proposing you keep fucking but just in a different…  location?

“You’ve misunderstood. I have no intention of continuing anything with you except maybe a more professional work relationship.”

He laughed a humorless laugh that skimmed your nerves raw. “You don’t believe that even a little.”

“Why do you have to fight me on every single thing? Does it give you some twisted satisfaction to see me pissed off?”

He flashed a wolfish smile. “Surprisingly, yes. But I found out yesterday that it’s even more satisfying seeing you come all over my co—”

The elevator doors suddenly slid open, saving you from whatever depravity he was about to say. You practically leapt to the other side so dramatically you had to fake a leg cramp to explain your awkward movement to the coworker stepping in. The newcomer eyed you curiously but said nothing, thank god.

You caught Sunghoon’s reflection in the elevator’s polished wall and he was clearly biting back a laugh, enjoying every second of your mortification.

When you arrived at your desk—flustered, anxious, and already mentally exhausted—you actually clasped your hands under the desk and prayed. Please let today pass without incident. Please let Park Sunghoon forget I exist for once in his damn life.

Realistically, he only called you into his office once or twice a week. Usually to nitpick your reports or assign corrections. And you figured he was smart enough to want to maintain at least the illusion of normalcy, which meant keeping that routine.

Naturally, you thought wrong.

Because barely fifteen minutes had passed before you saw your desk phone light up with a call from his extension.

You stared at it in silent horror, briefly considering smashing your forehead into the stapler. A workplace injury would be a valid excuse to leave early, right?

…For any normal boss, sure. But Sunghoon wasn’t a normal boss. He was a sadistic egomaniac who unfortunately had the dick to back up a portion of his arrogance.

Just then, your coworker Mina strolled by and smiled sweetly, clearly unaware that you were on the verge of losing your mind. You latched onto her like a lifeline.

“Mina! Can you help me with something?”

“Sure, what is it?” she asked, stepping closer.

You grabbed the offending stack of papers. “Can you take these reports to Mr. Park for me?” you offered her a smile hoping she wouldn’t question you. 

She blinked, a little confused. “Sure… but why?”

Fucking hell. “Oh, it’s just—I really need to use the bathroom, like, right now. Could you just drop them off for me?” The bathroom excuse was foolproof. No one argues with that.

“Oh, okay! But couldn’t you take it after?”

Why was she asking so many questions? Just take the goddamn file and save your doomed coworker from her crazy boss.

Your smile widened so unnaturally it probably triggered a horror response in her brain. Mina’s own smile faltered slightly in concern.

“I’m only saying that because you know how he gets with the reports… He’ll probably want to talk to you about it.”

Right. Like you didn’t already know that.

“I know! It’s just…” fuck it, being honest might make her feel bad for you. “I don’t want to deal with his berating right now.” You sighed.

She hesitated but then smiled in solidarity “I get it. He scares me a bit too. I'll bring them to him and say you needed the bathroom urgently.” 

Victory.

“Thank you so much, Mina! I owe you one.”

To commit to the bit, you stood up and headed toward the bathrooms, waiting just around the corner. You peeked out from behind a pillar and watched her step into Sunghoon’s office. Sorry for sending you into the lion’s den, Mina.

After five strategically-timed minutes in the bathroom, you returned to your desk and sat for three whole minutes before your phone rang again.

You saw the caller ID and instantly considered throwing yourself out the nearest window.

“Hel—”

“Come into my office. Now.”

The finality in his tone snapped any last thread of avoidance you were clinging to. You sighed, mentally braced for the gallows walk, and made your way to his office.

“You wanted me?” you asked coldly, sticking your head in and trying very hard not to look at the desk you’d been thoroughly fucked on yesterday.

“Come in,” he said, without looking up. “And close the door.”

You swallowed hard.

Closing the door meant isolation. No witnesses. Just you and him. And judging by the tone in his voice, you knew this wasn’t going to be a normal work talk. Hell, it probably wasn’t going to be a talk at all.

“I’m actually very busy right now, so—”

“Are you?” His voice was soft but cutting. “I doubt hiding out in the bathroom counts as a busy task.”

You shot him a look. Was he spying on you? “How did you even know?”

“Ms. Myoi isn’t exactly subtle,” he replied, almost smirking. “Next time, pick someone with a better poker face.”

“You got the files, so what’s the problem?” You tried to keep your tone firm, but your nerves were showing.

He stood up so quickly you barely had time to react. Every instinct screamed for you to bolt, but instead, you froze as his long fingers curled gently but firmly around your forearm, tugging you in closer. With his other hand, he closed the door behind you and turned the lock.

“I think you’re under the impression that, after what happened yesterday… You know, me stuffing you full of my cock and all… that you can talk to me however you please.” His tone was low and dangerous. “But you’re mistaken. I’m still your boss, and while you’re here, you’re going to show me respect.”

You hated the way he was speaking to you, hated even more the way his hand was now gliding up your arm, fingers brushing lightly around your throat and up to the sensitive nape of your neck.

“This is a total abuse of power,” you managed. “You can’t just summon me in here and expect me to drop everything because you think I’ll be easy for you. I’m not here to satisfy your needs. I’m here to work. And if that’s not what you want, let me go.”

He chuckled, the hand at your neck stroking slow circles against your skin. “Did you really think I called you in for anything other than work?” His tone was almost playful, clearly amused by your suggestion.

“I told you I wasn’t planning to do that again,” he added, his eyes flickering down your body with an infuriating amount of calm. “Not here, at least.”

Your chin lifted defiantly, meeting his gaze head-on. “What makes you think I’d want to do it again anywhere?” 

“Because you loved it. You took my cock like it was the best thing that had ever happened to you. And right now…” He leaned in closer, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “You’re pressing your thighs together just from hearing me talk about it.”

Your whole body flushed—because fuck him, you were.

His hand tightened ever so slightly at your nape. “You can lie with that mouth all you want,” he murmured, “but your body? Your body doesn’t lie to me. It wants me. Still.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest, your breath turning embarrassingly shaky. Sunghoon saw your hesitation, your silent surrender, and smiled a  slow, arrogant smirk that sent a thrill straight down your spine.

He leaned closer, lips brushing lightly against your ear as he spoke in a whisper. “You know what your problem is? You talk so much, but the second I touch you…” his fingertips traced trails from your nape down your spine “you fall apart so beautifully. Yesterday you were practically begging me.”

“I—I wasn’t begging,” you lied weakly, breath hitching as his fingers slipped underneath the edge of your collar, stroking softly across your collarbone. 

“Really?” he murmured. “Because I distinctly remember how loud you were” his voice dipped into something darker, hotter. “Do you remember how tightly you clenched around me when I told you exactly what a good little slut you were being for your boss?”

You swallowed a whimper, shame and lust tightening your throat. His other hand cupped your jaw gently, thumb brushing your lower lip as he tilted your head back, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“You liked that, didn’t you? Liked taking every inch of me right here in my office,” he said quietly. “I bet you spent all night replaying it, wishing I was there to do it again. And again. And again.”

Your eyes fluttered shut involuntarily as his thumb stroked across your lip again, gently pressing just enough to part them. You were utterly pliant, melting like wax under his touch.

“Look at you,” he murmured softly, eyes glinting with triumph. “So responsive. Just my voice, my fingers on your skin, and you’re trembling already.” He leaned in. “I wonder how much more desperate I could make you.”

You couldn’t even pretend anymore. Your body was begging him silently. He drew back just slightly, a satisfied smirk playing at his lips as he took in your flushed expression.

“Meet me during your lunch break,” he ordered quietly, pulling away enough to restore a cruel semblance of professionalism. “Don’t be late. You know I’m not patient.”

Your cheeks burned hotly at the implication, even as a thrill raced through you. You nodded weakly, knowing there was no chance you’d refuse.

You counted down the hours to lunch with embarrassing anticipation, barely getting any work done. Not only was Park Sunghoon living rent-free in your head, he was now actively sabotaging your productivity. Ugh. How could hate and want coexist so aggressively? It was unnatural.

Finally, when the clock struck 1PM, you all but leapt out of your seat only to force yourself to sit right back down after realizing how eager you looked. Get a grip.

Just as you were trying to muster the courage to casually make your exit, your phone buzzed with a text from him:

Sunghoon: Change of plans. Meet me at the parking lot.

You stared at the message, scoffing. Really? He was going to make you walk all the way downstairs just to get railed in the backseat of his car?

You grumbled under your breath the entire way down to the parking lot, texting him as soon as you arrived: Which one’s your car?

You really should’ve known.

A black Mercedes-Benz—the newest model, naturally—rolled up and parked directly in front of you. The door popped open automatically, and there he was with sunglasses on, one arm draped lazily over the wheel, and a small tilt of his chin beckoning you inside like he was some villain in a K-drama.

You rolled your eyes but got in anyway.

“Why didn’t you bring your bag?” he asked immediately, not even sparing you a glance.

“I have my wallet in my phone case. I don’t need anything else.”

“I’ll have one of the staff bring it to my place later.”

“Your place?!” You sat upright, the seatbelt snapping back loudly as you turned to him.

He didn’t even glance over. “Where did you think we were going?”

“To eat lunch? I mean, I’m actually hungry,” you insisted, only half lying. You knew where this was heading, but you refused to seem too eager.

He sighed as if you were an unexpected challenge in his otherwise perfectly curated day. “Either way, you’re not coming back in today. I’ll have your bag delivered. So, where do you want to eat?”

“Wait a second. What do you mean I’m not coming back? My shift isn’t over. I have work to do!”

He gave you a look, one thick brow raised behind his sunglasses. “Yeah, work I assigned you. Which means I can unassign it just as easily. Strap in.”

“Sunghoon, this is… ridiculous! You can’t just kidnap me from work just because you’re my boss!”

He smirked. “I definitely can.”

“That doesn’t make it okay!” you grumbled, finally buckling your seatbelt with as much attitude as you could manage.

“I don’t understand what you’re so upset about. You’re getting out early, still getting paid for the full shift, and you’ll be thoroughly taken care of.” He glanced at you. “I’d think you’d be thanking me.”

“Of course you don’t see the problem,” you muttered, turning to scowl out the window. “Whatever. Just drive.”

Sunghoon didn’t say anything. The engine purred back to life, and you tried not to focus on the fact that you were skipping work to go God knows where with your arrogant, dangerously hot boss to get possibly (likely) fucked into tomorrow.

The car ride started in a silence that felt too heavy for two people who’d literally had sex on a desk 24 hours ago. You stared out the window, arms crossed, trying not to seem too aware of how expensive everything in this car felt. The leather, the tech, even the damn smell… it all screamed money. 

“Alright,” he said eventually, “how do you feel about that new French-Japanese fusion place in uptown?”

“Fusion? Uptown? That sounds like a two hour meal and three digit prices.”

He shrugged one shoulder. “So?”

“So,” you said, turning to look at him, “I said I’m hungry. I’m not trying to sit through seven courses of foam and edible flowers.”

“Fine,” he muttered. “What do you suggest, then?”

You thought for half a second. “We could hit that little spot near the office. You know, the one with the best kimchi fried rice—”

“No.”

You frowned. “Why not?”

“I’m not taking you somewhere that has a laminated menu and plastic chairs.”

You stared at him, incredulous. “You’re such a snob.”

“And you have the palate of a college student.”

You gaped at him. “You know what? Maybe I do want to eat something cheap and greasy. You ever think that maybe not all of us grew up eating imported truffle oil on toast?”

He chuckled. “Why are you making it sound like a crime to want something nice?”

“Because you think nice has to mean expensive.”

He didn’t reply right away, just turned the corner smoothly. You could feel his gaze on you even though he was watching the road.

“Fine. I’ll make a deal with you.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Go on.”

“I’ll let you pick where we eat this time, but next time, it’s my choice.”

Your stomach flipped at the implication of doing this again, but you refused to show it. “You’re assuming there’ll be a next time.”

Sunghoon smirked. “There will.”

You turned back to the window with a huff, trying to hide your tiny smile. 

“Wait—turn right here. There’s a food truck fair in that parking lot!

There was a second of silence so loud it made you look back at him. Sunghoon slowly turned his head toward you, scandalized.

“You want me to eat in a parking lot?”

“Oh come on. It’s street food!”

“Do you have any idea how many food safety violations they probably have?”

“You think your caviar isn’t hiding mercury or something? Please.”

He gave you a look like you’d just suggested licking a subway pole. “We could catch anything from there.”

You laughed, genuinely. “You’re being dramatic.”

“You know there’s a reason the Michelin Guide doesn’t cover sketchy food trucks.”

“Just try the food, Sunghoon. I promise you won’t die from eating a greasy burger”

“Bold of you to assume that’s not exactly how my obituary would read,” he muttered, but he was already making the turn.

You smirked triumphantly. “Are you actually giving in?”

He sighed, the weight of compromise clearly hurting his soul. “I’m making a tactical concession to avoid hearing you complain the rest of the day.”

“That’s what I thought,” you said sweetly, already unbuckling your seatbelt.

“If I get food poisoning, I’m dragging you down with me.”

The food truck you chose specialized in Korean fusion, with spicy pork tacos, kimchi fries, and bulgogi rice bowls. It was the kind of place where napkins came in a metal dispenser and water was self-serve. Sunghoon looked deeply out of place with his lil crisp button-up still tucked, Rolex peeking under his cuff, and an expression like he was trying not to breathe too deeply.

“That man’s handling cash and tortillas without changing gloves.” He said, pointing at the guy working the front.

“That man,” you replied, swatting his finger down “is a hero bringing joy to the masses. Relax.”

You ordered tacos, ignoring Sunghoon’s skeptical gaze as you squeezed lime over the foil-wrapped mess. “Don’t tell me you’ve never eaten from a truck before.”

“I have,” he lied, studying the salsa bottles. “It just… isn’t usually my first choice.”

You picked a picnic table under an umbrella. Sunghoon pulled out a crisp linen handkerchief (of course he carried one) and wiped the bench before you could sit.

“Oh my God, you’re embarrassing me,” you laughed.

“Your immune system will thank me,” he said, unfolding it like a placemat. 

“Here. Try acting like the rest of us humans” you handed him a tray.

“There’s no cutlery…” He said, eyeing the tacos suspiciously.

“Obviously,” you said, already digging into yours. “You have to use your hands, Richie Rich.”

Sunghoon reluctantly picked one up and took a bite. His jaw worked slowly, expression unreadable. You waited for a complaint.

“One to ten, rate your $6 lunch.”

He hesitated, glancing at your happy expression. “Eight. And don’t let it go to your head.”

You gasped dramatically. “Is that approval? From Park Sunghoon? Should I alert the media?”

“I said don’t push it.” But the corner of his mouth twitched dangerously close to a smile.

As you sat across from each other, legs nearly brushing beneath the bench, the sun felt warmer, the breeze softer. For a moment, everything felt dangerously normal.

Until he leaned in and brushed his thumb across the corner of your mouth.

You froze. “What are you doing?”

“You had sauce.” He licked his thumb without breaking eye contact. “Don’t say I never take care of you.”

You stared, half-appalled. “You are literally why my therapist is booked solid.”

“Happy to keep her employed,” he said, flashing a grin. “I’m sure you have plenty to discuss about how much you enjoy working under me.”

You snorted. “In what world would I admit that?”

He shrugged, tearing open a sauce packet with annoying elegance. “You already admitted it with your thighs yesterday.”

You kicked him lightly under the table. “You can’t say things like that in public.”

“No one’s listening,” he said, but his eyes hadn’t left your face once. He was watching you too closely.

You looked away, stabbing a fry. “So what is this supposed to be? Lunch and… whatever comes after?”

He leaned in slightly, forearms resting on the table. “You really think I’m that predictable?”

“Aren’t you?”

He shook his head, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “If I was just here for that, I wouldn’t have bothered with lunch.”

“Then why did you?”

“Still figuring that out.”

You cleared your throat, suddenly conscious of how close you were. “Well, while you work on your revelation, I’m getting dessert.”

He stood smoothly. “Pick whatever you want.”

“Even the bubble waffles?” you teased.

“Get two. You’ll need the sugar.”

You blinked. “Why?”

Sunghoon just smiled.

“I thought you said getting into my pants wasn’t the plan today,” you continued, arms folding tightly across your chest.

Sunghoon’s gaze flicked unapologetically downward. “I just changed my mind. Your ass looks incredible in that skirt.”

The truth is, he barely noticed until now just how distracted he’d become simply from watching the way your skirt hugged your curves. It irritated him a bit, actually, that you could derail his thoughts so effortlessly.

You kind of figured things would end up at his place, but your appetite for anything besides food totally disappeared. Maybe it was the realization that you’d let yourself get sidetracked from work, and, weirdly enough, you actually liked just hanging out and eating with him. But if you had sex with him now, it’d just confirm that to him, you were just an easily accessible warm hole, nothing more.

You grimaced at your own thoughts and suddenly got angry at the fact that you were even here.

“Well, I'm sorry but Richard’s waiting for me, so I have to get home.”

His entire demeanor shifted instantly, shoulders tightening, the casual ease disappearing from his expression.

“And who the hell is Richard?”

A faint tension settled into his jaw. It wasn’t jealousy—at least, that’s what he told himself. It was simply the irritation of someone who disliked having his plans disrupted.

You blinked at him. “Seriously?”

“And your shift isn’t even over yet,” he added coldly, looking at his watch.

Your blood pressure spiked instantly. “You’re joking, right? Now my shift matters? Five minutes ago you were rearranging my entire day like it was your personal schedule.”

Sunghoon glared at you, his grip on the keys turning almost painful. He knew he was being petty, but he didn’t care. Especially with you dodging him like this.

“I just asked who Richard was, there’s no need to get so defensive.”

“Well, it’s none of your damn business.”

Your words were sharp enough to make his jaw clench. He let out a frustrated breath, telling himself not to say anything else that could possibly upset you more.

“Now you can take me home, or I’ll get a cab. Your choice.” you said, unyielding.

There was a stubborn silence before Sunghoon finally relented, unlocking the car with a curt click. Without another word, you both slid inside, any easiness from before completely gone.

“So what—” Sunghoon scoffed as he started the engine, eyes hardening with visible annoyance. “You can sleep with me but I can’t ask who you’re rushing home to?”

“Exactly, because we’re not anything, remember?”

The reply was blunt enough that even Sunghoon found himself momentarily at a loss for a comeback. That’s right, this was supposed to be a casual thing. So why did this suddenly feel so much more personal?

He didn’t care who you were seeing, really—he just didn’t appreciate surprises.

Nobody said another word the entire drive. You could practically hear every exhale he took through his nose as he maneuvered the Mercedes through traffic. When he finally pulled up in front of your building, you unbuckled fast, eager to put distance between you.

“Thanks for the food,” you said curtly, fingers already on the door handle.

His gaze flicked over. “Sure.”

You stepped out, letting the door slam just to be petty. Sunghoon’s jaw flexed, his hands gripping the wheel harder. The Benz sped off with a throaty growl, and you resisted the urge to flip him off as the tail lights faded.

Upstairs, you kicked off your shoes and made a beeline for the one thing that had been getting you through this godforsaken job for the last 13 months.

The punching bag.

It hung from the ceiling near your bookshelf, worn from frequent abuse. Centered at face level was a printout of Park Sunghoon’s corporate ID that you’d taped with scotch.

“You smug, insufferable bastard!” you shouted, kicking the bag so hard it swung wildly. “Acting like you own my schedule, my life, my goddamn—”

Thwack. A right hook.

“‘Who the hell is Richard?’ None of your business, that’s who!”

Thump. Left jab.

“Shift’s not over—my ass!”

You unleashed a rapid combo, each hit knocking the bag back with satisfying heft. Across the room, Richard, the mildly judgmental tabby who ruled your apartment with silent disdain blinked at you from his perch.

“See, Richie?” You kneed the bag for good measure. “This is why we can’t have nice things. Because men like Park Sunghoon exist.”

Richard only cocked his head, emitting a single meow and looking entirely unimpressed.

You landed one final kick then sagged against the bag, chest heaving. Richard hopped down, padded over, and brushed against your shin, purring as though to say drama over? snack time?

You blew out a breath, raking sweaty hair off your forehead. “Yeah, buddy. Snack time.” Anything to shift focus away from a certain arrogant boss whose expensive cologne you could still—annoyingly— smell on you.

Sunghoon drove back with one hand still tight on the wheel, the other tapping against the center console in a restless rhythm. His jaw hadn’t unclenched since you slammed the door on his car.

He wasn’t pissed. He just… didn’t like how the afternoon ended. You were supposed to come home with him. You were supposed to want to. 

Instead, you’d thrown some guy’s name in his face and got all defensive like he didn’t have a right to ask. Which was bullshit. You’d let him in once, and he was pretty sure you’d let him in again—hell, he knew you would—but the idea of someone else waiting for you? That didn't sit well for some reason.

Why were you being such a brat? You clearly liked the arrangement, otherwise, you wouldn’t have even let him take you out to lunch. He actually tried, you know? Tried not to make it seem like all he cared about was fucking you. Okay, sure, that was a big part of it—but he did want to get to know you too. And then you had to go and be with someone else? Fuck. He hated this… hated the bitter taste of being someone’s second choice.

You weren’t even dating and he didn’t have a right to ask you who you were seeing on the side. You’d said that yourself. Plus, he didn’t want to date anyway. He didn’t want something soft or complicated. He didn’t want to know what you liked for breakfast or listen to your problems or figure out what you meant when you said fine in a tone that clearly wasn’t.

He just wanted the control back. That’s all this was.

Because the second you said someone else was waiting for you, the balance tipped. And Park Sunghoon didn’t like losing his grip on anything—especially not something he already had in his hands.

He switched into the next lane with a bit more force than necessary, letting the tires roar for him. His thumb tightened on the wheel. Richard. Stupid fucking name. Sounded like a finance bro who wore boat shoes and called people “champ”

He didn’t care who Richard was. He just didn’t like the image of you choosing to go home to anyone else even if he didn’t want you for more than what you were.

Which he didn’t.

Obviously.

He was just annoyed.

Frustrated.

Hard again, if he was being honest.

With a low, irritable sigh, Sunghoon turned into the parking garage of his building and killed the engine. He sat there for a second, resting his head back against the seat with his eyes closed.

This was nothing. You were nothing.

But you had looked really fucking good storming away from him.

Sunghoon gave you space the next day. Not out of guilt but because he figured pushing after yesterday’s disaster would only make things worse. You were temperamental, stubborn as hell, and smart enough to know he was trying.

Still, that didn’t mean he wasn’t thinking about you. Specifically, about the way those pencil skirts you paraded around made your legs and ass look fantastic. 

By the time Friday rolled around, he’d settled on a strategy: subtlety. A little distance, then a reappearance. Just enough to keep you guessing.

So after five o’clock, when most of the floor had already packed up, he left his office with every intention of catching you at your desk. You always stayed late on Fridays, getting the week's reports done so your Mondays weren’t hell. It was part of your routine, and he knew your routines well.

But when he stepped out, your desk was empty.

He glanced around but only one intern remained. Sunghoon walked over. The intern flinched and straightened instantly.

“Where is everyone?” Sunghoon asked calmly.

The intern blinked, clearly panicking under the pressure. “Uh… there’s a team dinner, sir. At that Kimchi place down the block… I think everyone from our department went.”

Sunghoon didn’t bother replying. He just turned on his heel and left.

The kimchi place was downright dismal. The smell of gochujang and sizzling pork could be smelled even from outside. All of Marketing-Finance Floor 23 seemed crammed into one corner.

As soon as Sunghoon entered the room the conversation  died. The only thing that could be heard was a nervous chorus of “Boss?” 

Sunghoon’s eyes locked on you first. On the hem of your skirt riding high on your crossed legs, your cheeks flushed from beer, and your smile collapsing into a flat line the moment you saw him. You were sitting at a corner table, a half-empty pitcher between you and some guy from Finance whose name Sunghoon didn’t even care to remember.

“Next round’s on me,” he announced, sliding his Amex to the sputtering waitress. This seemed to do the trick because the energy returned to the room accompanied by cheers.

Sunghoon moved toward your table.

“This table’s full.” You said immediately, cold but polite.

But before he could reply, one of the interns sprang up like an obedient golden retriever. “Oh, Mr. Park, you can take my seat!”

You smiled tightly at the intern as Sunghoon sat.

That’s when he noticed that the table was all males. And the one beside you was definitely flirting. Sunghoon vaguely recognized him. Sungchan, or something. The guy leaned in when you laughed at whatever he was saying, his hand dangerously close to your arm.

Sunghoon’s jaw ticked.

“Seems like you’re having a great time,” he said flatly, putting down his drink a little too firmly.

You didn’t even glance at him. “I was.”

“Hmm” he hummed, offering a hollow smile. “Didn’t realize this was such an… intimate team gathering.”

“That's usually how work dinners go.”

“Do you laugh like that with everyone you work with?” he asked coolly, eyes flicking to Sungchan, who was too immersed in conversation with another coworker to pay attention to you two.

“Do not start with this.” You glared.

“I’m just saying what I see.”

“No, you’re just pissed you’re not the center of attention.” You stood up abruptly. “Excuse me.”

Sunghoon didn’t give you a moment. He was right behind you as you slipped around the corner and into the women’s restroom. You barely caught your own reflection before his voice sounded at your back.

“Would Richard approve of you out this late, drinking with a bunch of guys?”

You shot him a deadly look in the mirror. “This is the ladies’ restroom. Get out.”

He leaned against the doorframe, clearly not planning on leaving. “I’m just asking. I’m guessing you two have some kind of open relationship.”

You spun to face him, jaw clenched. “Enough about Richard, already.”

He shrugged, rolling up his sleeves casually. “I mean, I’ve been thinking about it. I don’t really mind it that much anymore.”

Your brow furrowed. “What are you getting at?”

“That you’re taken.” His voice dropped a note. “I thought it would bother me. I don’t usually like sharing. But…”

He closed the distance, backing you up against the sink.

“I could make you forget all about him.”

You swallowed, eyes narrowing. “This is highly inappropriate.”

He stepped between your legs before you could sidestep, one hand pressing to the counter beside your hip.

“Inappropriate would be me fucking you right here,” he said calmly. “So I will fuck you in the stall instead…”

You stared up at him, furious that your heart was racing, furious that your body hadn’t caught up to your mind screaming walk away.

Instead, you took a fistful of his shirt and that’s all it took for the thread to snap. He grabbed your wrist and before you could say another word, he was guiding—no, manhandling—you toward the nearest stall.

You stumbled back into it, the door swinging shut behind you with a loud click. 

“You want to laugh with your little office boy toys, fine. But you know none of them will ever get you like this.” he said, already slipping his hand up under your skirt.

“You’re disgusting” you hissed, even as your thighs parted automatically. 

His smile was lazy, sharp canines appearing. “You like me like this.”

You rolled your eyes but the attitude was cut short when he hooked your underwear to the side and ran his fingers through the wetness he found there.

“Dripping,” he whispered. “All that show out there with that dumb accountant but you’re fucking soaked for me.”

“Are you jealous?” you managed, but your voice was already strangled by want.

“Jealous?” Sunghoon scoffed, his other hand unbuttoning your shirt. “I just hate seeing something I’ve ruined get played with by someone else.”

He flicked open the last button, shoving your shirt off your shoulders with barely a glance. Your bra was in the way for all of two seconds until he hooked a finger under the center and yanked it down.

“Pretty,” he murmured, thumb brushing over your nipple. For a second, he just looked at you, half-naked and panting against the wall. His hand trailed lower, skimming your stomach, fingers hooking under your waistband impatiently.

You gripped the handrail, desperate to keep your footing as he shoved two fingers inside you without warning.

“Don’t make a sound,” he growled. “Or do, I don’t give a shit if the whole building hears you getting split open by your boss’ fingers.”

You bit your lip, failing to stifle the whimper that slipped out as his thumb circled your clit.

“We… we shouldn’t do this here” you choked, hips rocking against his hand. “Anyone could come in—-“

“I know,” he cut in, voice rough. “And I’m going to make you come on my fingers while your coworkers toast to a great fucking work week in the next room.”

He kissed you roughly as his fingers thrust in deeper, making you gasp against his mouth. He swallowed it all.

He undid his belt swiftly but your greedy eyes couldn’t take a peek of him because he spun you around quickly, your hands pressing against the cold wall for balance.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” He lined himself up, pressing the head of his cock against you. “For me to fuck you like the needy little slut you really are.”

“Sunghoon—” Your voice cracked. Whatever protest you had evaporated as he thrust in deeply, filling you so suddenly your forehead almost hit the tile wall.

“I told you to be quiet,” he growled, hand clamping over your mouth as his hips snapped roughly into yours. “Unless you want your entire restaurant to hear how desperate you are.”

You moaned against his palm, muffled, eyes squeezed shut as he fucked you ruthlessly. You hated him, hated yourself for how good it felt, for how much you loved the brutal way he fucked you every time. Your body clenched greedily around him, betraying every bit of pride you had left.

“Fuck,” he hissed against your ear, composure cracking. “This tight cunt… did Richard fuck you before you came here tonight? Did you think of me the whole time?”

You whimpered, shaking your head, overwhelmed by how perfectly he filled and ruined you.

“No?” he laughed darkly, gripping your hair and pulling your head back roughly. “You’re mine. Remember that. I know nobody fucks you like this.”

Your body tightened, dizzy from the sensation of every thrust hitting deeper. The cubicle walls shook with each movement, the cheap metal rattling beneath the weight of your reckless need. 

“Come on,” he whispered harshly, hand sliding down to circle your clit mercilessly. “Now cum for me. Be a good girl for once in your life.”

You shattered instantly, violently, screaming against his palm, your walls fluttering around him. Sunghoon swore, still fucking you through every after shock and only pulling out when he was close. He pumped himself outside and spilled his cum all over your legs.

He held you there for a moment, both of you panting, barely holding yourselves upright against the stall wall. Then, he released you and adjusted himself neatly. Your legs trembled, barely able to stand.

“I’m still mad at you,” you whispered, voice hoarse.

He zipped up without blinking. “Good. You fuck better when you’re mad.”

You kicked the door shut behind you, dropped your bag, and let out a groan that probably startled half the building. Richard blinked up from his favorite spot on the windowsill, tail twitching with interest.

You toed off your shoes and collapsed onto the couch. “Richard, I swear to god, your mom’s about to lose her mind.”

He meowed, hopping down and trotting over, immediately stretching up to press his paws to your knee.

“Do you want to hear how my day went? Or are you just here for pets?” You rubbed behind his ear. “Never mind. You’re the only man in my life who isn’t an egomaniac.”

Richard purred in response, eyes wide and curious.

You sighed and started, “Park Sunghoon is the human equivalent of a migraine. He’s so full of himself. It’s always his way or nothing. He’s obsessed with control. And with my—” You caught yourself, cheeks warming. “—I mean, with being the center of attention.”

Richard licked his paw and gave you the bland, patient stare only cats can manage.

“Do you know what he did at work dinner? He walked in, sucked the air out of the room, and then got all territorial the second someone even looked at me. Like, hello? You’re my boss, not my husband!” You huffed, grabbing a throw pillow and squeezing it to your chest.

“And of course, he always has to one-up me. Always has to have the last word. I swear, he’d argue with a brick wall just to prove he could.” You sighed at the ceiling. “One of these days, I’m going to out-stubborn him, Richard. Just you wait.”

Richard meowed and rolled over, practically demanding you scratch his belly.

You gave in, smiling despite yourself. “If I ever start falling for a guy like him, you have my full permission to claw some sense into me. Okay? I mean it.”

Richard let out a long, slow blink, then tucked his head into your lap.

“Oh, don’t even. I know what you’re thinking. ‘But you let him rail you in a bathroom, so who’s really at fault?’ And yeah, fine, okay. That did happen. Doesn’t mean he gets to act like that.”

You sighed, unzipping your skirt halfway to sprawl more comfortably.

“And what was that comment tonight? ‘Did Richard fuck you before you came here?’ First of all, he’s a cat, you lunatic! Secondly, who says that? Who follows you into the ladies restroom just to whisper bullshit like that in your ear and still manage to look hot doing it?”

Silence.

Richard stretched his front paws and turned away from you.

“I hate him,” you groaned. “I hate that stupid look he gets when he knows I’m seconds away from either punching him or climbing him like a fucking ladder. I hate that he talks to me like he owns my body. I hate that I let him.”

You exhaled. For a moment, you try to let yourself forget the mess outside these walls and just be a girl with a comfy couch and a very good cat.

“He’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Richard purred, which was probably him agreeing.

“…And I need new panties.”

The following Monday was hell. You walked into the building with your chin high and your legs still sore, determined to keep it professional. Sunghoon, of course, didn’t look even slightly affected. He entered the conference room as if he hadn’t rearranged your insides in a public restroom stall less than 48 hours earlier.

The team meeting started normally enough. Mostly about updates, deadlines, and more mind-numbing corporate stuff. You were seated across from him, doing your best to ignore the way his eyes kept drifting to you.

Then came the part where you had to present your weekly figures.

“Your report doesn’t account for the regional shift in quarter-two projections,” Sunghoon said, flipping through your printed pages without looking up.

You gave him a tight smile. “That’s because I was told to prioritize active trends over predictive models. As per last Friday’s brief, sir.”

A few heads turned at your sharp tone.

Sunghoon arched a thick brow. “Then you were told wrong.”

“Oh, so now you’re saying your own directives were wrong?”

“You must’ve misinterpreted them. Wouldn’t be the first time,” he said coolly, shutting the folder.

Your jaw tightened. “Funny, since the last time I ‘misinterpreted’ something, you ended up correcting me right away.”

The air in the room dropped to sub-zero.

Sunghoon smiled. But it wasn’t nice. “Let’s take five. I think some of us need to clear our heads”

No one argued. The team scattered so fast it was like fire had broken out. Then it was just you and him.

“I see the bathroom didn’t teach you anything.” He said, voice low and flat as he rounded the table slowly.

You stood your ground. “If you think you can intimidate me in here just because we—”

“Oh, princess,” he murmured. “I’m not trying to intimidate you.”

He pushed you backward until your thighs hit the edge of the conference table. You blinked, but didn’t move. Stubborn to the end.

“Is this how you want to play it?” you asked, breathing uneven.

His eyes dropped to your hips. “This is how you like it.”

You opened your mouth to fire back but gasped when he dropped to his knees in front of you, palms sliding up the backs of your thighs and pulling you closer to his face, lips brushing against the hem of your skirt.

“Sunghoon—”

“Hush,” he said simply, lifting your leg over his shoulder. “You do too much talking.”

He shoved your panties aside and licked a slow stripe up your center. Your hand flew to the edge of the table, nails digging in. His mouth was hot and merciless, tongue working you open with infuriating skill.

“Is this what you wanted?” he muttered, voice muffled between your thighs. “To act like a brat in front of the team so I’d remind you how to behave?”

You couldn’t answer. His mouth was moving too fast now, tongue circling your clit while his fingers spread you wider. Your head fell back, hips rocking helplessly against his face.

He sucked hard, then pulled back just enough to smirk. “Still think you’re in charge?”

You didn’t trust your voice, so you just whimpered, grinding down on his mouth.

He didn’t stop when your thighs shook or even when you clenched around his tongue, crying out into the empty conference room.

When you finally came, it was with a broken sound and a trembling grip on the polished edge of the table. He kept his mouth on you the whole time, lapping up everything you gave him like he was starved.

Eventually, he stood and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, adjusting his sleeves.

You were still breathless, flushed, legs too weak to stand

“I expect your revised report in my inbox by end of day,” he said smoothly, as if he hadn’t just tongue-fucked you into silence.

Sunghoon’s phone buzzed against the table. A single glance at the caller ID wiped the smugness from his face.

His jaw set. “I have to take this.”

You were still half perched on the edge of the conference table, skirt rucked up, panties sticking to you uncomfortably. “Now?”

He straightened his suit jacket with one sharp tug, then swiped to answer. “Yes, Chairman Park?”

Whatever he heard on the other end made the muscle in his cheek jump. “Understood. I’ll be there in ten.”

He killed the call and grabbed a folder he had tossed aside earlier. “I have to go.” His eyes flicked down to your still open thighs then darted back up as if forcing himself to look away. “Make yourself presentable before leaving”

He grabbed his suit jacket from the chair, ran a hand through his hair, and started toward the door.

“Wait, what?” you asked, still breathless. “Are you seriously just—leaving?”

He didn’t even look back. “I have to take care of something.”

Your mouth dropped open. “You’re kidding, right? You just made me—”

“Clean the table up,” he said, already halfway out. “There’s a team coming in here at four.”

The door shut behind him, leaving only the faint scent of his cologne and the distant click of his shoes fading down the hall.

“Unbelievable,” you muttered, yanking your panties back up. “I cannot believe I let that man near me again.”

And once again, you were left cleaning yourself up after Park Sunghoon decided to turn you inside out and vanish like nothing ever happened.

You went back to your desk and channeled every ounce of your anger into the stupid corrections Sunghoon had asked for, using every shred of self-restraint not to add an extremely inappropriate cartoon at the end for his private viewing.

When you finished, there wasn’t much else to do, so you decided to grab some snacks from the staff room. But as you made your way there, you nearly collided with Sunghoon, who was turning the corner accompanied by the CEO, Mr. Park, and a girl you’d never seen before.

The girl looked like she’d just walked off a runway. She was absolutely stunning, with the kind of beauty that made you double-take. She was gazing at Sunghoon with sparkling eyes, clearly smitten, and Sunghoon… was also smiling? And not his usual smirk or that infuriating shit-eating grin, either. This was almost gentle, his eyes crinkling at the corners, a dimple appearing on his cheek. Since when did he have dimples?

You got caught staring when all of you paused in the hallway. After a few awkward seconds, you remembered you were supposed to greet them. “Mr. Park,” you bowed, earning a polite smile from the CEO.

“Oh, hello! Miss Y/L/N, right? Yes, I heard it was your proposal last year that revived the department. Well done! Sunghoon here really picks out the best candidates, doesn’t he?” He clapped Sunghoon on the back and laughed warmly.

Pick out? Well, he certainly picked out the best girl to use. You frowned, but Sunghoon noticed and stepped in smoothly.

“You’re too kind, sir.”

The CEO gestured to the girl. “This is my daughter.”

“Jang Wonyoung,” she said, extending a perfectly manicured hand.

You took it and smiled politely. “Nice to meet you.”

“She’ll be starting here tomorrow,” the CEO continued.

“Here?” you asked, glancing between them. “As in… this department?”

“Indeed. Please treat her well,” Mr. Park said with a friendly nod. You bowed your head again.

“Of course, sir.”

You didn’t realize they accepted new candidates mid-year in this department, but you supposed being the CEO’s daughter had its perks.

“Well, I was just grabbing a refreshment,” you said, offering a brief smile before stepping past them and into the room. 

You glanced over your shoulder and caught Sunghoon stealing a quick glance at you. So this was the “very important business” that made him leave you hot, bothered, and stranded in the conference room? Of course. Giving the CEO’s daughter a personal tour was obviously more urgent than finishing what he’d started with you.

You tried to shake off the weird surge of annoyance building in your chest. You were supposed to be focusing on yourself, right? But ever since your twisted affair with Sunghoon began, your whole life had slipped out of order.

You’d missed your weekend pilates class because your limbs were too sore from being railed in the bathroom. You’d gotten maybe three hours of sleep, replaying every aggravating thing he’d ever done, simmering in irritation and… something else you refused to discuss. You’d even skipped lunch a few times, pretending to be swamped with work just so he wouldn’t get the chance to “kidnap” you again.

Safe to say, Park Sunghoon was wrecking absolute havoc on your routine, and you were desperate to claw back some control.

Maybe this new girl would distract him and he’d finally leave you the hell alone. The idea made your mouth twist with something ugly and in your distracted state, you sipped your freshly brewed coffee, scalding your tongue immediately.

You walked out of the refreshment room with a burnt tongue, a soured mood, and not even a little bit refreshed.

Wonyoung joining your team turned out to be a much bigger hassle than you’d expected. Especially since, out of everyone, you were picked to show her the ropes during her first week. It was like babysitting a celebrity, except the fans were your own coworkers.

Every male employee you passed seemed to have suddenly discovered urgent business near your desk, only to pull you aside with the world’s most obvious fake smiles.

“So, uh… you got her number yet?”

“You think she’s seeing anyone?”

You’d learned to fake a polite smile back and keep it moving, but by Wednesday you were ready to claw your ears off. 

The real cherry on top, however, was Sunghoon himself. With Wonyoung around, he’d doubled down on humiliating you in every meeting. Every little thing you said was picked apart, corrected, or ignored outright. You could feel her perfect eyes on you every time he put you on the spot, and by Friday you were seething.

By the end of the week, you were so keyed up you couldn’t even fake politeness anymore. And unsurprisingly, being micromanaged and dragged into extra tasks had left you behind on your actual work.

Which is how you found yourself still at the office at nearly 3 a.m, hunched over your desk and furiously editing reports with trembling hands and a full mug of forbidden coffee. So much for your no caffeine rule.

Your phone buzzed, and when you saw it was a message from Sunghoon, you nearly hurled it across the room. 

What the hell did he want now? He’d barely acknowledged your existence this week, except to hand you extra work or cut you down in front of the entire team. Maybe he wanted to tell you you’d missed a comma in one of the reports. You knew how much he enjoyed kicking you when you were already down.

Your phone rang again but this time it was a call. You sighed, grabbed it, and answered with zero effort to hide your annoyance. “What?”

“Are you still at the office?” His voice was frustratingly alert for this hour.

“Why?”

“It’s 2am.”

You glanced at the clock. “I am painfully aware. How do you even know I’m here?”

“I can see the security cameras.”

“That’s not creepy at all,” you muttered, spinning in your chair. “Glad to know I can’t even work myself to death in peace.”

“I also saw you were still at your desk when I left earlier. And I know you well enough to know you’d probably stay late.”

“Right, you know me so well,” you shot back, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have about a million reports to correct. Which I got behind on, because I was busy playing tour guide to the little princess all week by the way.”

There was a pause and you almost thought he might apologize. But Sunghoon, as always, surprised you.

“Just… don’t stay too late. The security guards leave at three, and I don’t want to hear about you getting locked in.”

You rolled your eyes. “Noted, boss.”

He hung up before you could add anything else. You tossed your phone onto the desk and stared at your blinking cursor, feeling more annoyed than before.

Sunghoon walked in on the next day already armed with a rare idea. He would let you go home early. You had spent half the night here so the least he could do was let you beat the rush hour traffic.

Then he saw you climb out of Sungchan’s car.

Every good intention died immediately. The muscles in his face tightened so hard into a scowl they ached. He crossed the parking lot in long strides until he was in front of you.

“Morning,” he said impassively. “You two are late.”

He knew you weren’t. The Rolex on his wrist still read 8:58. But the words fired out anyway.

Your easy smile vanished as you simply huffed and strode past him into the building without a word. Sungchan offered a quick bow, clearly confused, then hurried after you. 

Sunghoon’s eyes narrowed. Since when did you commute with Sungchan? Did you not have a perfectly functioning car?

He waited until Sungchan had disappeared back to the accounting floor, before stalking over to your desk. He forced himself to make his tone as casual as possible. You looked irritable enough to bite.

“So,” he said, hands in his pockets, “did you finish those report corrections?”

Without speaking, you lifted a neat stack of files, and set them in his hand. 

Great. Now you weren’t even talking to him.

“I didn’t know you were so close with Sungchan,” he tried, still aiming for non-threatening. “Car trouble? Or is he your new chauffeur?”

You exhaled one of those long, tired sighs that felt like a door slamming in his face before finally looking up at him. The frost in your eyes was familiar, almost nostalgic. He realized he had barely seen you outside meetings last week, and in a twisted way he had missed this exact glare.

“Do you need something?” you asked, voice flat as glass.

He frowned. “No, I was just—”

“Then, if it’s not work-related, I have a lot to do.” You gathered another stack of folders and stood. “And Ms. Jang seems to be waiting for you.”

Sunghoon followed the direction of your nod. Wonyoung stood outside his office with a tablet in her hands. He looked back at you, hoping for one more second of eye contact, something he could read. You were already walking away.

He clenched the corrected reports a little too tightly and turned toward Wonyoung. Whatever nice gesture he’d planned for you earlier was dead on arrival.

You knew from that chilly exchange that your day would not be a walk in the park. The meeting was only ten minutes in and already your nails were half-destroyed from how hard you were digging them into your palm.

Sunghoon was on a roll today. Maybe it was the caffeine or the fact that Wonyoung was seated beside him looking all pretty. But whatever it was, he had decided today was the day to challenge everything you said.

“No,” he cut in for the fourth time, tone clipped, “that’s not what the report reflects. Unless you’ve somehow redefined what productivity looks like, Miss Y/L/N.”

You inhaled sharply. “It’s what the data says. You know, the thing you usually ignore when it doesn’t flatter your genius ideas?”

A few coworkers coughed into their palms. Some even looked up as if  they were watching live combat. Wonyoung, of course, just blinked politely.

Sunghoon’s jaw twitched. “Just because I let you lead these meetings doesn’t mean you should forget who’s running this department.”

“Oh, I haven’t forgotten,” you snapped. “It’s kind of hard when every sentence from your mouth is a dick-measuring contest with yourself.”

The entire room fell into stunned silence.

Sunghoon didn’t even flinch. He just slowly set down his pen and met your gaze with equal intensity. “I think that’s enough for today. Good job everyone.” 

This scene was very familiar and if you remembered correctly, if you stayed in here another second, he would get you in a compromising situation you’d surely regret later.

So you huffed out a breath and walked out, ignoring the curious looks exchanged behind you. Sunghoon was hot on your heels.

“You’ve got a fucking mouth on you,” he muttered, stalking toward you.

“And you’ve got a god complex. Guess we all have flaws, don’t we?”

“I’m your superior.”

“And I’m sick of you reminding me that when I don’t roll over every time you bark!”

He was suddenly in front of you, invading your space. “I wouldn’t have to remind you if you knew how to behave.”

“Says the one who doesn’t know how to treat a woman unless your dick’s out.”

Sunghoon's hand gripped the back of your neck and shoved you into the filing cabinets inside the copy room, not hard enough to hurt but hard enough to tell you the gloves were off.

“Oh, you wanna talk about dicks?” he hissed, his mouth now inches from yours. “Let me remind you how good mine felt buried inside you.”

You refused to back down. “Are you going to fuck the attitude out of me again? How very predictable.”

You twisted in his grip, shoving his chest, but he caught your wrists.

“You want to keep mouthing off?” he rasped, advancing until your bodies hit the cabinet.

“Fuck you.”

He answered by twisting a fist into your hair and crushing his mouth to yours, his tongue driving past your lips as though he could steal every spark of your anger. His free hand slid down to cup your jaw, fingers locking around your chin to hold you still.

“Fucking look at you” he spat, lips swollen and smeared as he tore himself from your mouth “All that attitude, but you’re shaking for me. Who’s the predictable one?”

You glared, stubborn to the last, but your hips betrayed you with a needy twitch. He grabbed you and spun you, forcing you forward until your chest slammed against the cabinet’s freezing edge. His hand bunched up your skirt high, the other tearing your tights and panties down in one rough motion.

“Let me guess,” he sneered, fingers trailing between your legs, “Sungchan made you this wet? Or was it the thought of me bending you over like this?”

You gasped when two long fingers plunged inside you. There was nothing tender in the way he moved—just a ruthless rhythm, demanding your surrender.He curled his fingers, thumb flicking over your clit, making you whimper despite yourself.

“God, listen to you. Moaning like a slut in the copy room,” he taunted, voice dropping lower. “You act so high and mighty, but you’d let me fuck you anywhere, wouldn’t you?”

You bit your wrist to stifle a cry, your hips rocking back against his hand.

“That’s right. Take it. You love it when I treat you like this. You want it rougher?  Or do you want me to slow down and pretend I give a shit about your feelings?”

“Don’t you dare slow down,” you snapped, words strangled with need.

He laughed breathlessly. “Didn’t think so.”

He pulled his fingers out and licked them with a wicked grin. “Pathetic. You’re dripping for me. After all your bitching, you still can’t help yourself.”

You twisted, grabbing the front of his shirt and yanking him down, biting his lower lip hard enough to taste blood. “Just shut up and fuck me.”

His belt hit the floor within a second. He gripped your hips, lined himself up, and thrust in so deep and sudden you yelped. He didn let you adjust to his sheer size, simply grabbed your wrists, pinning them behind your back with one hand, the other squeezing your throat, forcing your back to arch.

“Don’t you dare close your legs. I wanna see you take every inch,” he snarled, grabbing your thighs and holding them wide as he pounded into you. His cock was stretching you so wide and deep, hitting all the right spots until you were a mess of moans and broken pleas. 

Every thrust was sharp and punishing, your body shuddering under him, wetness dripping down your thighs. If anyone heard, they’d know exactly what he was doing to you but you could not care less at that moment.

“Who do you belong to?” His voice was sharp. “Say it. Say you’re mine, or I’ll leave you like this.”

You shook, barely able to breathe. “Yours. I’m yours.”

He leaned down, teeth grazing your ear. “Louder.”

“Yours!” you gasped, voice echoing in the tiny room.

“Yeah, that’s right. And when you walk out of here, everyone’s going to know it. I want my cum leaking down your thighs during the next meeting. I want you thinking about this every time you sit down at your desk. You got that?”

You nodded desperately, tears stinging your eyes from the stretch and the force of his thrusts.

He let go of your wrists, grabbed your hips, and fucked you harder, so rough you saw stars. He reached around and rubbed your clit fast, breath hot against your neck.

“Cum for me, baby.”

You came so hard, whole body seizing in the waves of your orgasm. Your legs shook, almost giving out able to hold you up. Sunghoon kept going, chasing his own release, until he pulled out and came by your legs with a guttural curse.

You let your head fall back against the cabinet, trying to catch your breath. The fury that had burned so hot just minutes ago had dulled into a simmer of exhausted annoyance. You expected to turn around and see Sunghoon already tugging up his pants, smoothing his hair back into place, maybe even tossing a smug remark over his shoulder like "clean yourself up."

But when you looked, he wasn’t walking away. He was still standing behind, holding a handkerchief similar to the one he’d used when you ate together.

And then, to your complete disbelief, he knelt down.

You blinked. "What are you—"

Before you could finish, he was gently wiping the mess off your thighs—his and yours. His touch was careful, the same hands that just made you see stars  now moving with a tenderness that almost made you recoil.

When he finally stood again, you caught the faint but unmistakable flush on the tips of his ears. He avoided your gaze for a moment, brushing his palms against his pants as if trying to rid himself of the moment.

“Did something happen to your car?”

It took you a second to catch up. “Uhm, yeah, it wouldn’t start this morning. It’s at the shop now.”

He nodded once, then looked at you with a neutral expression. “I can give you a ride home. And to work, until it’s fixed.”

You paused mid-motion as you adjusted your tights. That was… surprisingly considerate. Especially coming from someone who usually barked orders instead of offering help.

“I… sure. You can give me a ride home today,” you said cautiously. “As for tomorrow, I’ll think about it.”

His gaze lingered on you for a second longer than and then he nodded again.

“All right then.”

He wasn’t forcing a choice on you this time. How strange.

Later, when the workday finally ended, you waited by your desk. Usually, you were the last one to leave, and tonight was no exception so the office was mostly dark and quiet by the time Sunghoon emerged from his office.

“Ready?” he asked walking over.

“Yes,” you said, grabbing your things and falling into step beside him as you made your way to the elevator. 

There was an odd tension between you, but not the usual  combative kind. This was almost awkward. Because for the first time, you were leaving together without arguing or being forced into it.

Once inside his car, you couldn’t help but remember how hard you’d slammed the door the last time you were here. This time, you shut it gently, settling into the plush seat. Sunghoon glanced at you. “Remind me your your address again.”

You gave it to him, then the rest of the ride was quiet except for the faint music playing on the radio. The air inside the Mercedes was icy cold, and you found yourself rubbing your arms.

“Are you cold?” he asked suddenly, his voice breaking the silence and making you flinch a little.

“A bit. I forgot my jacket at the office,” you admitted.

Without a word, he turned down the AC. You shot him a surprised look and muttered a quiet, “Thanks.”

What were these weird, almost pleasant interactions? It was disorienting, acting as if he hadn’t called you a slut while pounding into you just hours ago.

He pulled up in front of your building. Every rational instinct in you said to just thank him and get out, but the small, reckless part of you that liked these quiet moments won out.

“Would you like to come up?” you asked, the words almost slipping out before you could stop yourself.

Sunghoon looked stunned and was silent for so long you nearly rescinded the offer. But then he switched off the ignition and unbuckled his seatbelt in one smooth motion.

You led the way up the stairs, glancing back with a quick, “Sorry, the elevator’s busted, but I’m only on the third floor.” As you fumbled with your keys, you realized you hadn’t even checked if the place was tidy. Shit. You hadn’t expected any visitors—especially not Park Sunghoon.

You pushed open the door and peeked inside. Not bad. At least your laundry wasn’t everywhere.

“Come in,” you said, stepping aside so he could enter. He took off his shoes, scanning the small apartment with that unreadable expression of his. You couldn’t tell if he was silently judging your shoebox space or mentally praising your attempts at decorating.

“Uhm, I’ll get you something to drink. Tea? Water?”

“Water’s fine,” he replied, following you toward the kitchen.

“Okay, you can just—” You stopped dead in your tracks as your gaze landed on the elephant in the room: your punching bag, standing proud in the corner, with Sunghoon’s picture still taped squarely to its center. His face was staring straight at both of you.

You spun around in a panic to check if he’d noticed, but of course he had.

“I see you have very particular ways of entertaining yourself in here,” he said, amusement curling in his voice.

“Oh, god.” You rushed over, trying to untangle the heavy bag from its hook, but it wouldn’t budge. You tried peeling off the picture, but you’d used so much tape that it refused to budge.

“This is not what it seems,” you stammered, attempting to hide the offending evidence with your body.

He just grinned. “I think it’s exactly what it seems. But don’t worry…I use your pictures to let off steam, too.” He winked, and your mouth dropped open at the implication.

“What—?”

Before things could spiral further, Richard picked that moment to waltz out of your bedroom. The cat sauntered past you and headed straight for Sunghoon, tail held high, eyes curious. Sunghoon crouched down and gave the orange tabby a gentle pat on the head.

“And who is this?” he asked, stroking the soft fur.

“Richard,” you said simply, waiting for his reaction.

His hand froze mid-pet, and he looked up at you, stunned disbelief written all over his face. Then an incredulous laugh burst out of him.

“This is Richard…?” he asked, straightening up, still half-laughing.

“Yup.” You grinned, unable to hide it. “Bet you feel pretty dumb now.”

He shook his head, still smiling. “For getting jealous of a cat?!”

You tried to look innocent, but the satisfaction on your face was impossible to miss. “Guess so.”

“Who names their cat Richard?” Sunghoon asked, raising an eyebrow.

“What’s wrong with the name Richard?”

“That’s a grown man’s name.”

You crossed your arms. “I named him after the tiger in my favorite movie, Life of Pi. It felt appropriate.”

He glanced at the orange tabby. “He hardly looks like a tiger to me.”

“He’s very fierce and wise, actually.” You scratched behind Richard’s ear. “I think he can even sense bad vibes in people. He scratched my ex’s face once and a week later I found out the idiot was cheating.”

Right on cue, Richard tapped Sunghoon’s leg with a paw, then purred the moment Sunghoon scooped him up.

Sunghoon smirked. “Guess my vibes are fine.”

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t trust the judgement of a cat.”

Sunghoon scoffed and scratched beneath Richard’s chin, earning another contented purr. “Can’t believe you named him after a tiger,” he murmured.

“Have you even seen Life of Pi?” you asked, suspicion creeping in.

He shook his head. “I never had the time. There’s a tiger in it, I assume?”

Your jaw dropped. “You work eighty hours a week and still find time to ruin my life, but you can’t spend two hours on one of the best films ever?”

“That’s a bold statement.”

“Sit.” 

A half-smile tugged at his mouth. “Yes, ma’am.”

You queued the movie while Sunghoon lounged stiffly on the couch, Richard curled stubbornly in his lap. You tossed him a blanket both to be polite and because your apartment ran cool at night.

“No commentary until after. I take this movie very seriously.”

“I think I can hold my tongue.”

You explained every detail as the movie played—why Richard Parker was the tiger’s name, the symbolism of whether everything was real or just in Pi’s mind, the parts that always made you cry or laugh. Sunghoon watched, surprisingly attentive, occasionally glancing at you as much as the screen.

At some point, you realized your legs were touching. And somewhere between Pi’s first dazzling storm and his heartbreaking plea to the universe Sunghoon’s shoulder arm slipped behind you on the coach. 

You’d occasionally glance his way, noticing the slight furrow of his thick brows during emotional scenes and the small smiles when something amused him. You had never really seen Sunghoon relax like this, unguarded, his features softening as he became absorbed in the story.

At some point, your exhaustion caught up to you and without even realizing it, your eyelids grew heavy.

It wasn’t until morning sunlight started filtering through the blinds hours later that you woke up. Your cheek was pressed against something warm and firm and blinking sleepily, you realized with a jolt that it wasn’t a pillow… it was Sunghoon’s chest. His arm was loosely wrapped around you, his head tilted slightly, his breathing steady and peaceful.

You’d cuddled in your sleep. Oh lord.

After that accidental night on the couch, everything changed in subtle ways. You weren’t exactly friends, but you weren’t enemies either. He still rolled his eyes at your snark, you still muttered under your breath about his god complex—but now, he took you home every night. 

And somehow, that always turned into “let’s just watch something before bed,” which inevitably became shared popcorn, shared blankets, and shared pillows.

Some nights, you’d fall asleep on opposite ends of the couch and wake up tangled together, Richard squeezed somewhere in the middle like an orange pillow. Other nights, there was lingering heat—a kiss pressed to your shoulder, or the back of your neck, when he thought you were already asleep.

You’d convinced yourself you were fine with this weird in-between. You even ignored the fact that, lately, you kind of wanted him to stay over more. You liked seeing him half awake and soft in your kitchen, hair sticking up, pouring two cups of coffee.

But it couldn’t stay sweet forever.

It happened on a Thursday. You were in the shower, humming to yourself, when you realized you’d left your phone on your bed. Sunghoon, making himself at home in your apartment as always, went to grab it for you when it buzzed but the battery died at that moment. He opened your nightstand drawer, looking for a charger.

And found your stash.

He picked up the monster dildo first, brow arching so high it nearly disappeared into his hairline. The rose toy rolled out right after, bouncing off his knuckle and landing with a soft thud on your sheets.

You stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, hair dripping, only to find Sunghoon standing by your bed, your entire sex toy arsenal on proud display in his hands.

You froze. “What the fuck are you doing?”

He looked up, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Well, well… I always knew you were insatiable, but this is impressive.”

You wanted to melt into the floor. “Put those back.”

He turned the monster dildo over in his palm, appraising it like a weapon. “You actually use this? On yourself?”

You tried to snatch it, but he pulled it just out of reach. “Give it—”

He cut you off with a look that said don’t-even-try, and just like that, all the softness of the past week evaporated.

“Why bother with these?” he asked, stepping closer until your knees hit the bed. “When you’ve got me?”

You glared, embarrassment making your skin burn. “Sometimes you’re not around, asshole.”

His smirk darkened. “Then I guess we better make up for lost time, don’t you think?”

You opened your mouth to argue, but he pressed a hand to your shoulder, pushing you gently to sit on the edge of the mattress. He tossed the toys down beside you, crowding into your space, heat pouring off him in waves.

“Here’s how this is going to go,” he said, voice dropping to a growl. “You’re going to show me exactly how you use these. And then I’m going to show you why you’ll never need them again.”

He slipped your towel down, his eyes devouring every inch of your glistening skin. He picked up the rose toy and flicked it on, the gentle buzz loud in the quiet room.

“Lay back,” he ordered, and you did—body already shaking with anticipation.

He tossed the rose toy onto the bed, its gentle buzz loud in the quiet room. You hesitated, still flushed from the shower, feeling the heat of his gaze as you settled back against your pillows. Sunghoon kneeled at tj, legs spread, dark eyes devouring every inch of your exposed skin.

“Go on,” he murmured, voice low and coaxing. “Show me how you play when you’re alone. I want to see everything.”

You could feel his eyes burning into you as you pressed the toy against your clit, legs falling open wider for him, not just for the toy’s sake but because the hunger in his gaze made you feel more confident. The rose fluttered, sending tiny waves through you, and you couldn’t help the shaky sounds spilling from your lips.

He leaned forward a little, his voice husky. “Shit,” he said quietly. “Do you always fuck yourself this pretty, or is it just because I’m watching?”

Your breath caught, fingers slipping as your thighs tensed. He smirked, settling a hand over your knee to keep you wide open. “Don’t hide from me. I want to see every single thing you do to yourself when you’re alone. I want to know exactly what it takes to make you come when I’m not here.”

You whined, rolling your hips. “Sunghoon—please—”

He watched the toy kiss you, watched you tremble, and his eyes got darker, voice roughening. “I bet you rub yourself like this just wishing it was my tongue instead of that toy.” He let his hand slide up, tracing your thigh, almost but not quite touching where you wanted him. “Or do you imagine my fingers fucking you open, filling you up until you can’t take any more?”

You nodded, too close to care about being coy. The toy buzzed higher and you gasped, feeling your orgasm start to crest.

But his hand shot out, stopping yours, and he leaned in until his mouth hovered right next to your ear. “Don’t come until I say. You know better than that.”

You whimpered in frustration.

He plucked the toy from your hand, turning it off with a click. “You want to come, princess?” he whispered, and the teasing was gone from his tone now, replaced with a darker command. “Open your legs wider. Let me show you how it’s done.”

His mouth was on you a second later. His tongue slid greedily over your clit, circling, then flattening as he sucked. His fingers pressed into you, filling you in a way the toy never could.

His gaze remained locked on your face. His dark eyes never looked as alive as when he was looking up from between your thighs.

“God, you’re so fucking wet,” he groaned, breath warm against your skin. “You really did get yourself worked up for me. You love being watched, don’t you? Love knowing you have all my attention, huh? You are a greedy little thing.”

You couldn’t answer in anything but incoherent mumbles and moans. His hand pressed firmly over your stomach, holding you still as he sucked and licked, working you closer, refusing to give you the mercy of release until he decided you’d earned it.

“Now,” he growled, voice barely more than a snarl, “cum for me now.”

Your body obeyed before your mind could catch up, coming apart in his mouth, trembling and gasping as your orgasm took over—harder than anything that little toy could’ve ever managed. He licked you through it, holding you until you finally stopped shaking.

When he finally detached from you, his mouth was slick, his eyes still hungry. He leaned over, kissing you deep and dirty so you could taste yourself on his tongue, and whispered, “Next time you want to play with your toys, you do it while I watch. Got it?”

As Sunghoon started spending more nights at your place, he made it a habit to try every toy in your collection. He’d probably tried every last one on you, determined to learn which ones made you come the hardest. But his absolute favorite wasn’t from your drawer at all, it was something he picked out and bought himself. A sleek black plug that vibrated on command.

You’d given him attitude about it. He just smiled, handed you the plug, and watched as you put it in before work. That was three hours ago.

Now, you were walking through the office with the plug buried deep inside, thighs clenched tight even though Sunghoon hadn’t so much as touched the remote yet. You couldn’t deny there was a weird thrill in the risk, in not knowing when or if he’d use it. But after weeks together, you also knew that Sunghoon loved pushing your limits… Especially in public.

“Y/N!” Sungchan’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. He caught up to you in the hallway.

You smiled at him, adjusting the stack of files in your arms. “Hi, Sungchan!”

He grinned back and took half your papers before you could protest. “Hey, where have you been lately? We haven’t seen you at a single dinner since the last quarter ended.”

You scrambled for an excuse that didn’t involve confessing that Sunghoon had been monopolizing all your nights lately. “Oh, uh… I had family visiting, so I’ve been showing them around.”

He nodded, believing it. “Ah, I see. Still, it’d be nice if you could make it to the next one. I miss—uh, we miss you over there.”

You smiled back, heart squeezing a bit at his earnestness. “I miss it too. I’ll definitely be there next—AH!”

A sudden jolt of vibration inside you cut your sentence short. Your knees nearly buckled as the plug came to life rocketing through your core.

Sungchan stopped, concern written all over his face. “Are you okay?”

You forced a brittle smile, fighting to stay upright. “Y-yeah, sorry. Leg cramp. Must’ve overdone it at Pilates.”

The toy started again, stronger this time. You bit down a whimper, gripping the papers tighter as your thighs squeezed together in helpless reaction.

You didn’t need to look far for the culprit. Sunghoon strolled out of the copy room at that exact moment, remote hidden in his palm, satisfaction flickering behind his polite mask. He had clearly listened to every word of your conversation and waited for the perfect moment to torture you.

“Oh, boss!” Sungchan said, bowing politely. 

“Everything alright here?” he asked, his eyes never leaving your face. You could tell from the curl at the corner of his mouth that he was enjoying every second of your squirming.

Sungchan nodded, shifting the papers in his arms. “I was just helping Y/N with these reports.”

Sunghoon’s gaze flicked downward, taking in your shaky legs. “Miss Y/L/N, are you feeling alright? You seem… tense.”

You met his eyes, breathless, fighting not to murder him on the spot. “I’m fine. Really. Just… cramps.”

He tilted his head, feigning concern as his thumb rolled the dial a little higher. The vibration inside you grew wicked and relentless.

“Let me know if you need to step away,” he said, voice low and laced with dark amusement. “I wouldn’t want you to be… uncomfortable at work.”

You clenched your jaw and glared at him, vowing silent revenge.

Sungchan stood there awkwardly, still clutching half your paperwork, completely unaware that you were one second away from dropping to your knees from something a lot filthier than “cramps.”

“Miss Y/L/N, a word in my office,” Sunghoon said finally, voice pleasant enough to fool anyone who didn’t know him. His thumb pressed the remote again and another deep vibration nearly made you cry. Your hand shot out, steadying yourself on the wall as Sungchan frowned in concern.

“I’ll take those,” Sunghoon added, collecting the reports from Sungchan with a civil nod. “Thank you, Sungchan. That’ll be all.”

He waited for you to follow, every step a test of your composure. You walked, feeling every throb, every twist of sensation as the plug kept buzzing on and off in random intervals.

As soon as his office door clicked shut, Sunghoon pressed you back against it and his mouth was on your neck. His hand trailed down your spine, under your skirt, gripping your ass with possessive force. You gasped, hips bucking against his.

He didn’t bother hiding his hunger. “On your knees. Right now.”

You dropped, the plush carpet digging into your knees as you looked up at him. Your hands trembled, but he just pressed the remote again, sending another jolt through the toy. He kept his gaze locked on yours, undoing his belt slowly, his cock was already thick and hard when he pulled it out.

“Keep your hands behind your back,” he said, biting his lip. “If you touch me before I say, or if you stop moving, you don’t get to cum. Understand?”

You nodded, biting your lip as he guided himself to your mouth. The plug thrummed inside you again and the sharp waves of pleasure made your whole body twitch. “Speak”

“Yes, sir.”

“Open that pretty mouth,” he said, smirking as you took him in, hollowing your cheeks and letting spit drip down your chin. 

He thrust in shallowly but he was big enough to make you gag. The plug buzzed again matching his rhythm, torturing you until you were a quivering mess.

“So good,” he praised, one hand tangled in your hair as you sucked him down. “Look at you. Fuck, you’re so pretty with my cock in your mouth. You love it, don’t you?”

You whimpered around him, letting your tongue swirl around his, eyes focused on a vein that kept pulsing agains your nose. He pulled out just enough to let you gasp for air, thumb swiping the mess from your lips. “If you want to come, keep working for it.”

You took him back in, letting him fuck your throat while the toy buzzed harder inside you. You were shaking, tears pricking your eyes from the intensity. He watched you mesmerized, drinking in the sight of you debased and ruined.

He pressed the remote, cutting the vibration just as you were about to tip over, and you whined, hips bucking in frustration. He just laughed, thrusting deeper, hips stuttering as you gagged around him, drool and precum slicking your chin.

“Beg for it,” he said, pulling you off with a pop. “Tell me why you deserve to come.”

You sobbed, voice shaking. “Please, Sunghoon, I’ve been good, so good… Please let me come—I need it, I need you—”

He groaned, thumb stroking your cheek. “Yes, such a good girl.” He yanked you to your feet, spinning you and bending you over his desk. 

He pinned you down with one hand between your shoulder blades, while the other finally reached between your legs. He pressed the remote again but on full power this time, the plug vibrating so violently it nearly knocked the sense from you.

He thrust inside, burying himself to the hilt, the sensation almost too much to bear with the toy still inside you. “You cum when I say. Not a second before. Or I’ll leave you aching all night.”

He fucked you hard against his expensive mahogany desk. It’d been a while since you found yourself in this situation.The first time, you'd been on the verge of quitting. Now, you were in so deep the thought of leaving almost felt absurd.

The room filled with the sound of skin on skin. “So fucking tight around my cock, you’re made to be used, aren’t you? You want everyone to know how filthy you are?”

You could only nod, biting the desk to stifle your screams.

When he finally let you come, it was with a snarl of permission. Your body convulsed, legs trembling so hard you nearly collapsed. He followed with a growl, pulling out at the last second to empty himself around your legs.

He leaned in, breath hot on your ear. “You did good, baby. But next time, if you stop for even a second, I’ll edge you in every meeting until you’re begging on your knees in front of everyone.”

He pulled himself into his pants again nd handed you a tissue with a twisted smile. “Don’t you dare take that plug out until I tell you.”

On Friday, you let your best friend Jiah drag you to a tiny café two blocks from the office. It had been weeks since you’d seen her in person, and she was determined to catch up over overpriced pastries and matcha lattes.

Jiah perched on the edge of her seat, eyes bright. “So? How’s the office drama? Last time we talked you were ready to throw a stapler at your boss.”

You forced a laugh, swirling foam with your straw. “The drama hasn’t died but let’s just say my ways of coping are … better.”

She wiggled her brows. “Oooh, do tell.”

You dodged, asking about her family instead. Jiah launched into updates, including a long tangent about her older sister, Yerin.

“You remember Yerin’s boyfriend? The med-school guy?” Jiah said, breaking off a piece of croissant. “She just found out she’s pregnant.”

Your brows shot up. “Seriously? Weren’t they being careful?”

“That’s the thing… They were doing the pull-out method.” Jiah rolled her eyes. “He swore he had ‘great timing’ Turns out pre-cum can have sperm, so… surprise baby.”

You choked on your latte. “Wait, that can happen? I thought it was only risky if—”

“Nope.” She wiped her fingers on a napkin. “Doc told her even a tiny amount can be enough. She was only a week late before the test lit up like a Christmas tree.”

A cold prickle slid down your spine. Two weeks late. You did a quick mental calculation. Your own period was… what, four days overdue now? Maybe five? You’d chalked it up to stress and the whirlwind that was Park Sunghoon, but now every twinge in your body felt like a warning siren.

Jiah kept talking, but her voice blurred under the thud of your own heartbeat. You flashed back to all the times Sunghoon pulled out only at the last second… or sometimes not at all. Most of the times you’d had sex it was either after an argument or an emotional moment where neither of you paid much attention to anything other than getting into each other’s pants. You thought you were safe enough. Apparently you had thought wrong.

“Y/N? You zoning out on me?” Jiah frowned.

“Sorry,” you said quickly, forcing a smile. “Work headache.”

She reached over and squeezed your hand. “Take a break this weekend, okay?”

You nodded and checked your watch, suddenly eager to leave. You hugged her goodbye outside the café, then headed straight to the corner pharmacy. In your mind you could already see two pink lines and Sunghoon’s cold expression.

Inside the bright aisles, you grabbed the first pregnancy test pack you saw, plus a bottle of aspirin for the impending migraine that was coming your way. Receipt in hand, you tucked everything into your bag and headed home, with your stomach in knots.

In the elevator up to your apartment, you pressed a palm to your flat abdomen and exhaled. Maybe your cycle was just off. It wouldn’t be the first time. Still, you couldn’t shake this weird feeling. The memory of Sunghoon’s hands on your hips, his whispered orders, and the way he sometimes pulsed inside you before he pulled out.

Richard greeted you at the door with a questioning meow. You set the test on the bathroom sink, heart pounding so loud you almost didn’t hear him.

“Give me a minute, buddy,” you whispered.

You pulled out tue test and stared at the white stick on the sink like it was a cursed object.

Three minutes. That’s what the instructions said. Wait three minutes to know what the rest of your life would look like. But you were already sweating thirty seconds in, pacing in tight circles while Richard watched from the hallway as if he somehow knew something serious was happening.

You didn’t feel pregnant. Whatever that meant. You felt tired, bloated, a little nauseous…but you’d asummed it all the work stress, Sunghoon, bad sleep, and probably the coffee addiction you’d reignited. You kept telling yourself that. Over and over. But still… your hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

You set a timer on your phone and turned it face down. The longest three minutes of your life ticked by. You tried distracting yourself by doomscrolling and petting Richard. Nothing worked. Your eyes kept flicking toward the bathroom, it was as if the damn test was whispering your name from the counter.

Finally the timer went off and the sound startled you so bad, you had to steel yourself before you flipped the phone and stepped back into the bathroom.

Two lines.

Two very, very pink lines.

You picked up the test with shaky fingers, hoping maybe your vision was just messed up. You held it up to the light. Still two lines. 

“Oh my god.” Your voice came out hoarse. “Oh my god.”

You sank onto the floor, test still in hand in your shaky hands. Your mouth was dry. Your skin felt clammy. The terrifying, irreversible shift of knowing your body wasn’t just yours anymore. 

The idea settled like a stone in your gut. You didn’t know what to feel or think. 

How far along? When did it happen? Was it that night in the bathroom? His apartment? The goddamn copy room?

You pressed your palms into your eyes, trying not to panic. You were smart. It wasn’t like you to miss something as important as using protection. God, it was because Sunghoon distracted you in ways no one else did. 

You glanced down at the test again. Still two lines. Still screaming the same thing.

Richard meowed softly from the doorway. You looked at him, voice barely above a whisper.

“…What the hell am I supposed to do?”

The next morning, you woke up before your alarm, heart pounding with dread and disbelief. The first thing you saw was the positive pregnancy test on your nightstand as undeniable proof of your stupidity. You grabbed your bag and headed to the pharmacy the second it opened. Just to be sure. Maybe the first one was faulty, or expired, or just wrong. It had to be.

But it wasn’t.

You sat in your bathroom, knees drawn to your chest, staring at two pink lines for the second time in twelve hours. No matter how many times you blinked, they didn’t change. You called your doctor’s office and managed to snag an appointment for later that afternoon.

Now came the harder part which was getting out of work. That meant you had to face Sunghoon.

You waited until after the rush of meetings to slip into his office. He was at his desk, brow furrowed over some report. He barely looked up.

“What is it?” His tone was brisk, but you could hear the familiar thread of concern woven through.

You forced yourself to keep your expression neutral. “I need to leave a little early today. I, uh, have a personal appointment.”

His eyes flickered up. “What kind of appointment?”

You felt your pulse spike. “Just… some stuff I’ve been putting off. Nothing serious.” You tried to sound casual, but even to your own ears it was a little too shaky.

He didn’t look convinced. “You don’t usually ask to leave early. Are you feeling okay?”

You nodded too quickly. “Fine. It’s nothing, really.”

He watched you for a long moment, then nodded, though his gaze was sharper now. “All right. You can go. Just let me know if you need anything.”

You managed a tight smile, thanked him, and hurried out. The relief was only temporary. You felt his eyes on you as you packed up your bag later. You kept your head down, moving quickly through the halls, trying to breathe. You just needed to get out without drawing attention.

But as you stepped out onto the sidewalk, you heard your name.

“Y/N.”

You turned to see Sunghoon coming after you. He stopped in front of you, face tight with concern.

“What’s going on?” he asked quietly, lowering his voice. “You’ve been weird all week, and now you’re leaving in the middle of the day. Did something happen? Is someone bothering you?”

You tried to keep your voice steady. “I told you, I just have an appointment.”

He studied you, eyes searching your face for the truth. “If it’s something serious, you know you can tell me, right?”

You couldn’t meet his gaze. “It’s nothing you need to worry about. I promise.”

He didn’t move. “Y/N—”

“I’ll be back tomorrow. I just… need a day, okay?” You stepped around him, heart pounding.

He watched you go, suspicion and worry etched into every line of his face.

You barely noticed the city traffic as you made your way to your doctor’s office. Part of you wished you could just tell him, have him hold you, promise that everything would be all right. But you weren’t ready.

And you had no idea what he’d do when he finally found out.

You spent the entire afternoon at the clinic—filling out forms with trembling hands, answering questions you barely heard, and then sitting through the blood test, heart racing the whole time. The nurse gave you a gentle smile as she bandaged your arm, telling you the results would be ready the next day. You nodded numbly, thanked her, and collected your things. You felt both lighter and heavier at once—like the truth was closing in from all sides.

Outside, dusk was already settling over the city. You wrapped your coat tighter around you and pushed through the clinic doors, bracing for cold air and the blur of street noise.

What you didn’t expect was to see Sunghoon leaning against the rail, arms crossed, his gaze locked on the entrance like he’d been waiting there for hours.

You stopped short, a fresh wave of anxiety crashing through you. “Sunghoon?”

He looked you up and down, his eyes dark with worry. “So it was a doctor’s appointment.”

You opened your mouth, but no words came out. You clutched your purse tighter.

“Are you sick?” he asked quietly, stepping closer, scanning your face for any sign of injury or pain. “Or is it something worse?”

You shook your head quickly, voice barely more than a whisper. “No. I’m not sick.”

He exhaled, but didn’t relax. “Then what is it? You’ve been acting strange all week. Avoiding me, lying about where you’re going—” He broke off, jaw working. “Are you in trouble? Is someone—?”

“No,” you said, sharper than you meant. “It’s not like that. I just… I needed to figure some things out on my own first.”

He let that hang in the air, the weight of your silence stretching between you. Finally, he spoke, voice much softer. “Okay… and did you figure it out?”

You looked away, blinking hard. “I’ll know tomorrow,” you managed. 

He nodded slowly, studying you for a long moment before speaking again. “I have an important meeting, but I’ll take you home first.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I do. Come on.”

He extended his hand toward you, and for a second, you hesitated. But eventually, your fingers curled around his. You’d never walked together like this before—hand in hand, quiet, deliberate—and it felt oddly intimate. Like a threshold you weren’t sure either of you had meant to cross.

If you were pregnant… would Sunghoon want to make things official? Would he ask you to be with him just because of a child? You weren’t even sure what you were to him now. But the thought grew heavier with each step you took beside him.

You bit down on your quivering lip, stopping without meaning to.

“What is it?” he asked, turning to face you. His brow furrowed when he saw your eyes glassy with tears. He stepped close and framed your face with gentle palms. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“I…” You didn’t want to tell him yet, not until you were completely sure. But it felt like a weight on your chest, making it harder to breathe. And when he looked at you like that, with concern instead of distance, part of you wanted to believe he wouldn’t hate you.

“I took a pregnancy test yesterday.”

His thumb paused its soothing sweep across your cheek. You swallowed. ��Two tests, actually…They were both positive.”

He didn’t speak for eight whole seconds. You counted. And in those eight seconds, your mind conjured every worst-case scenario. Maybe he’d pull away and leave. Maybe he’d say you did this on purpose, and accuse you of trying to trap him. Maybe he’d deny it was even his.

“You’re pregnant?” was all he said, softly.

He didn’t look angry. Or disgusted. Just… serious. Like he was processing.

“I don’t know,” you replied quickly, heart racing. “The tests aren’t always accurate. I looked it up… if they’re expired or stored too long, they can give false results. Or if you think you’re pregnant, your body can sometimes trick itself, and the hormone levels get messed up and—” You stopped, breath catching. “I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

He watched you quietly, then asked, “And you got blood work today?”

You nodded. “Yeah. But the lab closed early, so I won’t get results until tomorrow.”

“Okay,” he said, exhaling. “I’ll come with you.”

“You really don’t have to—”

“Yes, I do. Of course I do.” His tone was firm but not angry. “Y/N, I’m just as involved in this as you. Just… don’t push me away, alright?”

You looked up into his eyes and, for a moment, saw a flicker of emotion you’d never seen before. Maybe he was nervous too, but he was holding it together for both of you. He didn’t seem angry. If anything, he seemed determined to stay.

It was the first time in days you didn’t feel completely alone. You let yourself lean into that support, just for now.

When you got to your apartment, Sunghoon decided to stay, and you didn’t protest. The thought of being alone right now was almost unbearable.

“Are you hungry? I’m assuming you didn’t eat lunch today,” he said, slipping off his suit jacket.

“Uh… yeah, actually. I didn’t.” You only just realized how hollow your stomach felt.

“I’ll make something for you,” he offered.

You turned your head slowly on the couch, eyeing him skeptically. “You cook?”

“I’m not the best,” he admitted, rolling up his sleeves. “But I make the best fried abalone you’ll ever taste.”

“Really…” you said, doubt dripping from your tone.

He cracked a grin. “You’ll see.”

Turns out he did make the best butter-fried abalones you’d ever tasted. And this was coming from someone who’d always been on the fence about seafood. You scraped your plate nearly clean, only stopping when you realized licking it would cross some sort of line.

You let out a blissed sigh. “This food just fucked me and sucked me good.”

Sunghoon paused mid-bite, eyes flicking up with a look of disbelief and amusement. “I’ve never had my cooking reviewed quite like that.”

You laughed, patting your stomach happily. “No, seriously. If I knew you could cook like this, I would’ve locked you up in my apartment weeks ago.”

He set down his chopsticks, grinning. “Oh yeah? Tell me more about this scenario.”

“I’m not joking! I’ve basically been living off ramen and fast food for months. Half the time I barely manage a smoothie before work.”

He tilted his head, giving you a look that was half playful, half serious. “That won’t do. Especially if…” His gaze slid to your stomach and stayed there, almost protectively. “If you really are pregnant, you’re going to need proper meals.”

You cleared your throat, suddenly overwhelmed by the image of a domestic Sunghoon cooking in your kitchen, massaging your sore feet, texting you pictures of baby onesies, reading articles about parenting and sending you dumb memes about fatherhood. 

Stop. You can’t do this to yourself.

Even if you were pregnant, that didn’t mean you’d suddenly fall in love and ride off into a pastel colored domestic fantasy with Park Sunghoon. You barely tolerated each other just a few months ago. You couldn’t afford to forget that.

You shook your head with a weak laugh. “I can’t believe this is happening. If you’d told me last year I’d be having a pregnancy scare with my boss… the same boss who made me bite my nails bloody from stress, I would’ve died laughing.”

Sunghoon’s smile faded a bit as he mulled that over. “I’m sorry for treating you that way.” 

You looked up, surprised by the earnestness in his voice.

“I mean it. I… I don’t really have an excuse. But if I had to give you one, I guess it’s because I wanted your attention.”

You blinked, surprised. “You wanted my attention?”

He nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. I know I went about it the absolute worst way, but I’ve never really been good at… expressing things. And you were so closed off to me at first. It felt like the only way I could get you to even look at me was to—well, be an asshole.”

You weren’t sure what to say. His apology wasn’t perfect, but it was genuine and oddly vulnerable. 

“I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow,” you said at last. “But… thank you for being here.”

He met your eyes. “Whatever the result is, you won’t handle it alone. I mean that.”

You didn’t sleep much. Every time you closed your eyes, your mind spun through a reel of possible futures—some terrifying, some strangely sweet, all overwhelming. By sunrise, you’d already been awake for hours, lying in bed with Richard stretched across your ankles, thinking about what the day might bring.

You moved through your morning routine on autopilot, barely tasting your coffee, feeling your nerves build with every tick of the clock. Work had never seemed so impossible. How were you supposed to focus on emails and deadlines when your entire life could be about to change?

By the time you arrived at the office, the overhead lights felt too bright and the air too cold. You kept your head down, clutching your bag a little tighter than usual as you made your way to your desk.

Sunghoon walked in a few minutes after you. You’d agreed to arrive separately to keep things from looking suspicious but even so, when he passed your desk, his eyes couldn’t help but flick your way for just a moment.

You tried to lose yourself in your work so the day would go basted, but it didn’t work. Every ping from your computer made you jump. Every time someone said your name, your heart pounded.

Mina, your coworker, leaned over the divider. “Hey, are you okay? You look kind of pale.”

You offered a thin smile. “Yeah, just didn’t sleep well.”

She nodded, not pressing, but you could feel her worry lingering as she turned back to her monitor. You wished you could tell her. The secret felt too big to hold, like it might crack open and spill everywhere at any moment.

A few hours later, as you were rereading the same email for the third time, you felt someone pause beside your desk. You didn’t even have to look up to know who it was.

“Can I see you in my office?” Sunghoon’s voice was soft enough that only you could hear.

You followed him. The short walk down the hallway felt impossibly long, every step echoing your anxiety. When the door closed behind you, the world shrank to just the two of you.

He didn’t go behind his desk but leaned back against the edge, watching you for a moment. “How are you feeling?”

It was a simple question, but it nearly broke you. You looked away, blinking fast. “Nervous… and tired. I barely slept.”

He nodded, hands fidgeting with the edge of the desk. “Me too.” A pause. “I kept thinking about a lot of things.”

You looked at him then. He looked tired too, circles under his eyes, the usual sharpness of his appearance dulled by something softer. “I thought about a lot of things too,” you admitted quietly. “What if I am? What if I’m not? I can’t even figure out what I want to happen.”

He let out a slow breath. “Me neither. I used to think I’d hate the idea… you know, of being responsible for someone else, losing control over my own life. But the last couple days… it’s been all I can think about. I keep imagining what it would be like.”

There was a long silence. You watched the morning light creep across his office, a bright line cutting between you on the floor.

“But no matter what happens at that appointment, I want you to know I’m here. I mean it. I know I’ve been an asshole before, but I’m not going anywhere.”

You felt something tight in your chest loosen just a little.

“Thank you,” you said, meaning it more than you thought possible.

You stood there, both of you, caught in a moment that felt both terrifying and fragile and knowing the day ahead would change everything, one way or another.

By the time you left the office, the sky was navy. You walked the two blocks to the clinic in near silence, but it wasn’t awkward. Rather, it felt like gathering strength. Halfway there, Sunghoon slipped his fingers between yours.

You paused in front of the clinic, breaths streaming white in the cold air. Inside waited an envelope with your name and a single line of text that could redraw your future.

Sunghoon rubbed your knuckles with his thumb. “Ready?”

You looked up at him. The sharp boss, the reluctant cook, the man who’d stayed when he could have run—all in one complicated silhouette. 

You inhaled, exhaled, and nodded. “Let’s do this.”

The clinic’s waiting room was almost empty this late in the evening. A muted newscast flickered across a wall-mounted TV; the only other patient was a teen scrolling on her phone. You and Sunghoon sat in the far corner, coats draped over your laps, hands still laced together. Every tick of the reception clock seemed amplified.

You tried counting your breaths—four in, four out—but your pulse wouldn’t slow. If it’s positive, life will change tonight.Strangely, the thought no longer panicked you as it had twenty-four hours ago. Sunghoon’s steady grip helped anchor that.

A nurse finally appeared and called your name. You rose; he rose with you. She led you down a short hallway into a small consultation room, pastel posters about prenatal vitamins on the walls. A moment later Dr. Han entered with a file—your file—clasped to her chest. She greeted you both with the same gentle warmth as the day before and took a seat opposite.

You could feel Sunghoon’s thumb tracing a slow circle over your knuckles. He was outwardly calm, but his hand was slightly clammy.

Dr. Han opened the folder. “Good evening. I have the results of your quantitative hCG test.” She looked up, meeting your gaze first, then Sunghoon’s. “It’s negative. You’re not pregnant.”

The words settled like falling snow—soft, definitive, almost silent. For a heartbeat you simply stared, processing. Not pregnant. Relief rushed in, light and dizzying… and then something else, a bittersweet pang that surprised you.

Sunghoon exhaled so slowly you felt it more than heard it. He squeezed your hand once, gently. There was no visible disappointment or joy—just that same grounded steadiness he’d shown all day.

Dr. Han continued, explaining the false positives. “They can happen for a few reasons: chemical pregnancies that end very early, residual hCG from a recent miscarriage, certain fertility medications, even test strips that have degraded in storage. Urine tests are convenient, but they’re not infallible. Your bloodwork is conclusive, though—there’s no ongoing pregnancy.”

You nodded, swallowing. “Thank you for explaining.”

She offered a reassuring smile, discussed cycle-tracking apps, suggested a follow-up if your period remained irregular, and then excused herself. When the door clicked shut, you finally let your shoulders drop.

Sunghoon didn’t speak right away. Instead, he reached up with his free hand and brushed a loose strand of hair from your forehead, tucking it gently behind your ear. The gesture was so tender it made your throat ache.

“So,” you managed, voice barely above a whisper, “no baby.”

“No baby,” he echoed softly.

You waited for the wave of relief to crest. It did—but it carried an undertow of unexpected wistfulness. You glanced at him, searching his face for clues. He met your eyes and seemed to read the question there.

“I thought I’d feel only relief,” he admitted, tone quiet, honest. “But I… don’t. Not entirely.”

You let out a shaky laugh. “Me either. How weird is that?”

He stepped closer, still holding your hand, his other palm settling warm against your cheek. “Maybe it’s not weird,” he said. “These last few days… thinking about what might happen. It made me see things differently.”

You felt tears prick but didn’t look away. “Differently how?”

He drew a steady breath, the corners of his mouth lifting in a small, almost shy smile—an expression you’d never thought possible on Park Sunghoon. “I realized I want more than late-night reports and stress-induced hookups. I want… an us.Maybe a house that smells like butter-fried abalones,”—the smile widened when you laughed—“and maybe, someday, an actual crib. Not because we panicked into it, but because we chose it together.”

Your heart thudded, a warm bloom spreading through your chest. “You’re serious?” you whispered.

“I’ve never been more serious.” He cupped both hands around your face now, thumb brushing the skin under your eye. “I’ve always been good at work and terrible at feelings. You make me want to fix the second part.”

You covered his hands with yours. “I want that too,” you said, the truth ringing clear once you spoke it. “I want to see what us looks like when it’s not tangled up in deadlines and copy-room insanity.”

He kissed your forehead softly then rested his own against it. “Then we start slow. We can go on real dates, have real conversations.” A wry grin tugged at his lips. “And maybe slightly fewer vibrating toys at the office.”

You laughed, leaning into him, feeling lighter than you had in months. “Deal. Although the toys are negotiable.”

“Good.” He kissed you properly this time, full of promise rather than urgency. When he pulled back, his eyes were warm. “Hungry?”

“Starving.”

“Great,” he said, entwining your fingers as you headed for the door. “Because I’ve been perfecting my abalone recipe.”

“Is that so?” you teased, bumping his shoulder. “Guess I’ll have to lock you in my kitchen for real then.”

His laugh echoed down the hallway, and you felt the future open wide.

Epilogue- 8 Months Later

You sat perched on the padded table, swinging your feet lightly, dressed in a pale blue smock. Your hands were folded over your barely-there bump.

You were twelve weeks along.

Sunghoon was sitting in the chair beside you, one leg crossed over the other, fingers drumming lightly on his thigh. His tie was loosened, sleeves rolled to his elbows. Despite the long day at work, he didn’t look tired. If anything, he looked anxious. 

“I still don’t get how it happened this fast,” you muttered under his breath, glancing sideways at him. “We were careful.”

He shrugged, lips tugging into a small smile. “Were we? I remember at least two times that we definitely weren’t.”

“Two?” You blinked. “I can name at least four.”

He laughed softly, leaning closer and resting his hand against your belly. “Well. One of them worked.”

The nurse came in, breaking the moment. “Doctor Han will be in shortly to do your first ultrasound,” she said kindly. “You’ll be able to hear the heartbeat today.”

Sunghoon stiffened beside you. You reached out and took his hand without looking. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, but the word cracked slightly. “I just… hearing it makes it real.”

You squeezed his hand. “It is real.”

He nodded once. “I know. Doesn’t mean I’m not scared shitless.”

You turned to him, voice gentle. “Me too, but we have each other.”

He brought your joined hands to his lips and kissed your knuckles. “Always.”

The doctor arrived shortly after, warm and chatty as always. You laid back on the table and pulled the gown open. The cold jelly over your stomach made you jolt. Sunghoon stood by your side, fingers still laced in yours, eyes glued to the screen scared that he might miss it if he blinked.

And then there it was. A grainy flicker, pulsing steadily in the center of the screen.

“That’s the heartbeat,” the doctor said with a small smile. “It sounds strong and regular. Everything looks perfect.”

The sound filled the room like thunder. Tiny, rapid thuds that made your chest swell. You blinked fast, swallowing the lump in your throat. When you looked up at Sunghoon, his eyes were glassy.

He was crying. Not a lot—just one tear, maybe two—but the sight floored you.

He didn’t say a word. Just leaned down and kissed your forehead, staying there for a long second, breathing you in.

Later, in the car, he reached for your hand again and said quietly, “I don’t think I knew what love really felt like until now.”

You looked over, a bit surprised. “Because of the baby?”

“Because of you,” he said. “And now… both of you.”

You turned your face toward the window, hiding the stupid smile curling on your lips, blinking fast again.

At home, Richard sat perched on the windowsill as usual like a little orange gargoyle. When you kicked off your shoes, he jumped down and padded over to inspect you.

Sunghoon leaned in from behind, resting both hands over your stomach. “Alright, Richard. You’d better get used to sharing her.”

Richard meowed.

You smiled. “That sounded like reluctant acceptance to me.”

“Good enough,” Sunghoon murmured, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

The house felt warm and safe. There were butter abalones in the microwave and ultrasound photos on the kitchen counter.

And for the first time in your life, waiting didn’t feel scary.

feedback is always appreciated! <3 tysm for reading

[the-fanss]

Threads - Part 1

Saja boys x Soulmate! Reader

Ever since I can remember, I have been able to see threads connecting people to each other. Jokingly as a child I would always call them 'the string of fate' but maturing is realizing that nothing like that was true. Everyone is connected in one way or another and the brighter the color, the stronger the connection to the person. Idols have thousands or millions of faint threads connected to them which is something I'm used to seeing nowadays especially working as an event manager for music shows.

"The girls just finished their last song and should be coming below stage in just a moment, make sure to have water at the ready." I say talking into a small earpiece. Bobby standing next to me checking social media numbers and getting giddy about the girls' amazing show clips on tiktok. Bobby works hard but the fans work harder.

"The show went very well despite the delayed start" I say to Bobby and he looks up from his phone.

"It really did! I am so sorry for the delay earlier but the entrance was spectacular -" He starts then the elevator opens revealing the girls who are on a energy high. "Did somebody say water? Water Now!" Bobby says and immediately the girls are given water.

"Good work ladies, it's always a pleasure working with you" I say following along with the girls they all three turn and Zoey hugs onto me happy to see me again.

"(Reader) it's been so long! We haven't seen you since last tour, you've been so busy." Zoey cries hugging onto my arm. I've worked closely to them for the past 5 years since their debut and it's been a pleasure and working in this field I have met enough idols who are very entitled; thankfully the girls haven't let the fame get to their heads too much... besides not taking breaks.

"I'm so sorry Zoey, things have been crazy with scheduling events. You guys are about to be on break after tonight so how about we do something then?" I respond smiling slightly.

Zoey perks up at that and me saying that catches Mira and Rumi's attention as well. "Would you be open to going to the bathhouse or a movie night at ours?" Mira asks letting exhaustion seep through a bit.

"Yeah please have a movie night with us (Reader) we haven't seen you in forever" Rumi starts seeming to be in a very energetic mood despite having just performed.

"Well I can send you guys my free time so we can set something up" I say laughing a bit. "But I have to go now and make sure everyone leaves the stadium and head home."

"Bye (Reader)!" All of them say as I walk away and I wave saying goodbye to the girls and Bobby.

Finally done, I can finally relax at home and not have to worry about any fans or managers trying to schedule music events or anything of the sort. 'I should take a small vacation' I think to myself walking to a corner store to get a small treat after working hard the past week. It is the start of summer so a bunch of idol groups are debuting and releasing albums for a "hot summer song" and because of that I've been working overtime many nights and just need a break at this point.

Leaving the store I am just scrolling through my phone while walking and I accidentally bump into someone's shoulder causing me to drop my phone and managing to throw the other person off balance a bit. "Oh my god I am so sorry... sir.." I say trailing off as I look up and see that the person in front of me is fairly attractive. Light blue hair, baby face, twink build, but very sharp eyes. However, what caught my eyes at first sight is that he doesn't have threads... none at all. None that are faint in color or anything, just nothing. He looks at me sort of in a daze and shakes himself out of it as if he remembered something.

"Yeah pay more attention next time" He says and starts walking off,

It does take me by surprise a bit but whatever, the people you meet at night on the street won't always be the nicest. Shaking off the interaction is easy but shaking off the fact that there were no threads is harder, that isn't normal. It's as if he is a clean slate of nothing. Maybe he just moved to the area but even then he would still have faint ties...

As I walk away I don't notice the man's eyes following me as I am lost in thought about the very brief interaction. Nor do i notice how there is a change in his eyes, a very brief flash of gold and slits.

DING

"Rumi... do you not know what a break is?" I say rolling my eyes at a notification on my phone about Huntrix releasing a song just now.

~Elsewhere~

"Jinu.. something interesting happened." A blue haired man says walking into a building that most definitely was not theirs earlier that night.

"How interesting is interesting" A man who is only half paying attention to the bluenette who just barged into their apartment with no warning.

"A woman bumped into me while I was out trying to figure out where you want to show us off and she smelled... off." That caught Jinu's attention. "Off how?" Jinu asked more so worried about someone catching them right off the bat.

"She had a human smell but the smell was earthly sweet in an addicting way."

"Baby, we have to stay focused. Humans smell, we are just going to have to get used to it." Jinu says relaxing a bit relieved that nothing had actually happened. However, Baby couldn't get the interaction out of his head.

Notes: Hi everyone! Thank you for reading the first chapter of this series. I have plans and I promise things are going to get moving soon. This was more so to get you familiar with you as the main character. If you want to be tagged or leave feedback please feel free to! -Luka

Taglist: @libdarkheart

[h0neylevi]

Falling for your best friend’s older brother, Zayne, who you’ve known since you were eight.

Okay, so he’s only two years older. But the effects of that small gap are felt the older you both get. You go from digging up worms together in the garden and riding your bikes through town in the summer to catching up in the library as you prepare for end-of-term exams. 

He’s in university before either of you learn to drive, but that doesn’t mean you never see him. In every sense, Zayne has always been a permanent fixture in your life by the sheer nature of his relation to your best friend, but he becomes a friend to you in his own right, in a way that is distinctly separate from your longstanding friendship with his sister, Melanie.

That’s why you have no problems calling him on a random Saturday night. You know he’s awake, and he’s definitely not out drinking like you are.

He picks up on the second ring.

“Hello?”

“Zaaaayne!”

Your voice cuts through the thumping background noise that he can only assume is music. That, coupled with the subtle slur to your greeting, leads him to ask, “Are you at a party?”

You giggle. “How did you know?” There’s a groan to your right that reminds you why you called. “Hey, Mel’s feeling really sick. Can you come and pick us up?”

There’s a short pause on the other end. “I’m assuming that means you’ve also been drinking?”

“It’s my first night out all term!” you quickly defend, pausing to check your makeup in the bathroom mirror you’re currently holed up in. “It isn’t illegal to have fun every now and then, you know?”

“I’m not judging you,” he says gently. “Just bracing myself for whatever I’m about to get myself into.” There’s a sigh, followed by what sounds like the snap of books being closed in the background. “Send me the address and I’ll pack up here. Are you near the university?”

Although it’s a slow process, you manage to put him on speaker while you type out the address to him in a text. “Sent it. Looks like we’re about ten minutes away.”

“See you in ten minutes then,” he says. “Drink some water, both of you.”

It’s raining by the time you see the familiar black sedan pull up in front of the packed house.

Between the rain and your lack of coordination, it takes a few extra minutes to climb inside.

Mel claims the backseat to herself by immediately stumbling in and curling onto her side, leaving you to take the front.

“Hi,” you greet a bit breathlessly, your smile a bit too wide and uneven to be deemed natural to Zayne’s eye. It only confirms his suspicions. You may not be as drunk as his sister, but you certainly aren’t sober. “Thanks for coming to pick us up.”

He gives you a brief nod before turning to Mel.

“Don’t get sick in my car.” For a moment, he adjusts the a/c to a higher setting and then pulls back onto the road.

The movement makes your head swim a little, but the cool air helps to ground you a bit, even if it does make you shiver.

“Are you cold?”

You turn at the sound of Zayne’s voice to find him quietly studying the goosebumps that have formed over your bare arms. Admittedly, a strapless top had felt like a good idea when you had gotten ready earlier, but you hadn’t exactly been considering the weather at the time.

When he meets your gaze, he looks back to the road. 

“Cold air helps with nausea,” he explains with a brief tilt of his head in Mel’s direction. He points to your footwell and you follow the motion to find a school bag at your feet. “There’s a jacket in there you can wear.”

You lift it into your lap, but before you’re able to get it open, something catches your eye.

“No way! You kept this?” You hold up a small trinket of a penguin attached to the bag’s zipper—one that you’d gifted him years ago before he had enrolled in medical school. You only vaguely remember clipping it to the zipper it’s still attached to, but Zayne gives you a look as if it’s obvious.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know.” You admire the trinket in your palm with a small smile. “Just didn’t expect you to care enough to keep it.”

“Wouldn’t removing it also require me to care?”

He has a point, you think, but your brain feels too fuzzy to consider what he means for long.

“I kept mine too,” you tell him, proudly holding up your phone to show him the small snowman charm that dangles off to one side. One that he had given you when you were all out together at a winter festival when you were ten. “See?”

A rare smile cracks his stern expression in the brief glow of a passing streetlight. “I see.”

Properly trembling now, you return your focus to the bag. The contents inside are largely unremarkable—an empty protein shaker bottle, some textbooks, and a dark grey zip-up jacket. Quickly, you pull it out and slide your arms through the sleeves. The fabric smells familiar—mild detergent that you recognize from the years spending nights at their parents’ house and the warm, masculine scent of cologne.

“Thanks,” you sigh, already feeling a bit warmer. “Were you at the gym?”

Looking him over, it’s hard to not see that he’s filled out quite a bit in recent years. Gone is the lanky teenage boy you once knew; now a man sits before you with well-defined biceps and the chest and shoulders to match.

Unaware of your gaze, Zayne shrugs. “I usually work out before I go to the library.”

“Oh, so you were studying,” you nod and look forward, fidgeting with the jacket’s sleeves. “You’re always so disciplined, Dr. Zayne.”

“I’m not a doctor yet.”

“May as well be,” you grin at him. “Mel told me you’re almost finished.”

He nods. “I start my residency at Akso Hospital in the spring.”

“That’s amazing!”

You begin to praise him, but you’re cut off by a low groan from the backseat.

“Can you slow down?” Mel asks. “These bumps are killing me.”

Zayne glances at his dash and eases off of the accelerator. How long has he been going over the speed limit? He glances apologetically in his rearview mirror. “We’re almost there.”

Beside him, you laugh quietly. “Well, not disciplined in everything, I guess.”

Taglist: @thechaoticarchivist @humanitys-strongest-brat @ackerbootytobbi

[rae-yoon]

Saja boys x GN manager!reader

(Reader is a demon btw)

You were just a demon lingering in the underworld, with absolutely nothing to do. That was, until Gwi-Ma summoned you. You were now standing before the King of demons, thousands of other eyes staring at you.

“Hello, y/n,” He said smugly.

“what the fuck do you want.” You blurted out, initially enjoying your peace, only to be interrupted.

“You seem to be the only free demon at this moment.”

“What do you mean the ONLY free demon? i see like half the fucking population lingering around.”

“I need you to manage a demon boy band. They will help me steal souls.”

“Heck no.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No-” And with that, you now find yourself in the human world, standing in front of five demons in a — studio?

“Who are they?” you heard a voice ask, probably the black haired one.

“I dunno? Did Gwi-Ma send them” The teal haired one replied.

“I’m leaving.” You said. But as you started walking out of the room, you heard a voice at the back of your head.

“where do you think you’re going?”

And now here you are again, before the same five demons. You studied them carefully. They looked like something out of what humans called a “k-drama”. (or as i would say, a fucking wet dream😍)

“They’re staring at us.”

“Obviously, we’re attractive.”

One of them with hot pink (idk what the colour is) hair walked up to you.

“Hey baby, how are you doing?”

You rolled your eyes and walked to the center of the room. Sighing, you said “Gwi-Ma sent me to be your manager.”

A bunch of heads in the room nodded. The one with silver-purple hair growled at you. You raised an eyebrow. Was he a fucking rabid dog?

🫧~Timeskip bc author-chan is lazy~🫧

“What is that?”

“Pink smoke?”

“Magicians?”

Voices could be heard from every directions. You were praying that nothing would go wrong. The boys were now performing at the middle of somewhere? What were they performing? Their debut song, “Soda pop”. You were dressed as a random spectator at the corner, hoodie pulled up, face barely seen.

“You're all I can think of

Every drop I drink up

You're my soda pop

My little soda pop

Cool me down, you're so hot

Pour me up, I won't stop

You're my soda pop

My little soda pop,” just when the chorus ended, there was a whole crowd. THIS was really going well.

Flashback

“What concept should we do?” You asked the boys.

“What is a ‘concept’?” Romance asked.

“A concept is like a focus on what style the dance is. Something like that.” You replied. They still looked really confused. You mentally facepalmed yourself. Why did you even agree to this? No. You didn’t even have a fucking choice.

“Well, since none of you are suggesting, i personally would suggest we do aegyo.” you smirked, figuring they wouldn’t know what it meant. Stares of confusion filled the room, the boys all looking at one another.

So now, they were all performing in pastel pink, floral, coquette themed outfits. You literally cackled when they saw their outfits, shocked and begging you not to do this. You could’ve sworn you heard Gwi-Ma’s laughter.

Back to present🫧

Romance and Baby kinda “kissed” put hearts. Literal hearts. Like cupid-shot-the-bow-at-you type of hearts.

Fans screamed. Some fainted? Three certain people in the crowd caught your eye. Of course due to your demonic abilities, you knew that they were members of huntr/x. You smiled, obviously knowing that they were probably fuming right now, judging from their faces.

“Uh, make me wanna flip the top

한 모금에 you hit the spot

Every little drip and drop, fizz and pop, ah

소름 돋아 it's gettin' hot

Yes, I'm sippin' when it's drippin' now

It's done? I need a second round

And pour a lot and don't you stop

'Til my soda pop fizzles out,”

Timeskip again🎧

“Good job, boys! The audience really enjoyed your performance.” You said, while the boys slumped onto the sofa.

“Yeah.” Baby said.

“okay,” Jinu remarked.

“Do you wanna touch my abs?” Abby asked, and boy did he catch you off guard. You flipped him off.

You were summoned by Gwi-Ma to the underworld after the boys went to bed.

“Soda pop. It’s catchy.” Gwi-Ma said.

“Okay.”

“Not happy?”

“No, and can i go back? I was still watching Squid game.”

“Tsk. Feisty one, aren’t you?”

“Let me go.”

Gwi-Ma laughed manically and sent you back to the human world.

You didn’t notice it at first, you thought they were just warming up to you. When Jinu started initiating more conversation, when Romance started bugging you, or when Baby started giving you his food. They were drawn too you, TOO drawn to you. Gwi-Ma would take advantage of this. He would whisper: “They don’t like you” or “You don’t deserve them” breaking them down internally.

There was, however one time you went on break and Gwi-Ma sent another manager. And boy was he strict. He was making the boys run laps, generate lyrics during break time, putting them on a strict diet etc.

The boys hated it. Like hated hated it.

So when you came back from your (wonderful) break, five boys greeted you at the door. The moment you sat on the couch, they all sat next to you.

You were now squished between five ridiculously old men. (still hot, you’re old too,)

The six of you watched movies, you finished squid game, they cried, you cried, it was a damn joyful day. You honestly enjoyed today, you hoped there would be more moments like this.

[sillygoofyqueer]

Guys I know I have other AUs to post about but are we really surprised that I have a KPOP Demon Hunters x MXTX AU idea? Are we reaaalllly surprised about it? I mean, come on guys. It was bound to happen. Come on. Do you even know me. Let's just get it over and done with, come on- stop- STOP STRUGGLING-- IT'S GOING TO HAPPEN---- Lan Zhan, AKA Lan Wangji, main singer and composer of CVZ (I was thinking about what the group had in common, thought 'cultivators!' and then was like 'hehe CultiVatorZ'. That sounds stupid as all hell, so I shortened it down! Sounds like something Shang Qinghua would do). He works with Shen Yuan, AKA Shen Qingqiu, main rapper and lyricist, Xie Lian, main dancer and choreographer, and Shang Qinghua, the manager of the group. His father? Famed cultivator/main singer of the group, CR. His mother? Uhhh...😬 so she was a demon...yyyeeeaaahhh. We don't talk about it. After his father died (they say he was killed by his demon lover, but do we believe it?), he and his elder brother (Lan Huan, AKA Lan Xichen, of the Venerated Triad) were raised by Lan Qiren (former member of CR), who taught them how to hide their patterns. He did this because he was scared of the other members of the Lan Clan, who are all about 'keeping the bloodline pure' and would definitely have killed the babies in the name of 'justice'.

When they aren't blowing people's minds on stage, they're hunting demons. Shen Yuan comes from Cang Qiong Sect (one of many other training institutions for demon hunters) and so does Shang Qinghua, who was originally supposed to be the third member of CVZ - until, of course, they found Xie Lian. How did they find Xie Lian? They were out on a practice mission, to see how well their voices melded, when Xie Lian came out of NOWHERE and helped them beat the shit out of the demons. Although Shang Qinghua could definitely still have been part of the group, he went "oh, wow! There's your third member! I guess I'll have to content myself with being a manager, aw man." He was not upset, and Shen Yuan seemed fine with it as long as he got his emotional support bobo doll one way or another. So, Xie Lian joined the group, and CVZ was formed. Shen Yuan uses war fans, of course, Lan Zhan uses Bichen (Wangji has plot relevance for later), and with Xie Lian I'm a bit stuck. I want to give him a unique weapon, but he's sword nerd 2000. I was thinking some sort of whip with a blade on the end (like Ruoye) but I'm willing to be swayed!

Because CVZ is so popular, they often attend meet & greets and different events for aspiring idol groups - 'as a show of goodwill!!' says Shang Qinghua, who wants to scope out the competition and crush them - and often perform there as enticement for other people to show up. After all, people may be intrigued by aspiring idol groups, but people would love to see CVZ performing, so they can get a crowd drawn in for the aspiring groups! Plus, and this is the sneaky reason why Shang Qinghua sends them to do it, sometimes it crushes the spirits of aspiring groups because CVZ is just so perfect that it's hard to see how anyone could even begin to compete with them for an audience. He has an in depth calendar for all of them to follow, but Xie Lian and Shen Yuan both rely on Lan Zhan to remind them because Shen Yuan has no time to check the calendar and Xie Lian doesn't...own a phone?? They don't ask about it, but if they did, he would say something cryptid about how 'they would find me.' No, Lan Zhan is like Shang Qinghua's angel when it comes to being prepared for things.

So, they're at one of these events, and they're watching a couple of the groups that Shang Qinghua has internally labelled as a 'threat', and Lan Zhan is only sort of interested in the groups until the stage goes dark and a new group comes out. It's a bit dramatic, but it does catch people's attention, and Shang Qinghua's like "hm...I dunno who these guys are!" but he's not too worried about it. Then the stage lights come on and the group starts singing, and it's like "ah. Oh dear. Hm. They're not only attractive, but they're like a well-oiled, well choreographed machine with amazing vocals." Lan Zhan himself can only really watch as who he assumes to be the main singer (and perhaps the leader?) of the group sings like an angel and firmly steals his heart. He's embarrassed to admit that he wouldn't have even noticed the patterns on his arms if it weren't for the sleeve of his hoodie being pulled up during a particular move. A quick glance at the other members shows that they have the yellow eyes of demons as well. He points this out to the others, and they're just as confused as he is by this...group.

Wei Ying is a simple guy, alright? His mother was a demon, his father was a cultivator, he grew up in a clan of demon hunters, you know how the story goes! Well, his story is a little different to Lan Zhan's. Jiang Fengmian was not the only one who knew about his patterns - Jiang Yanli knew as well, and helped him keep it hidden from her mother (and Jiang Cheng, who Wei Ying thought would hate him for being half-demon). Because Jiang Fengmian himself had interacted with a demon (Cangse-Sanren), he knows what she had done to hide her patterns, and teaches him how to do the same. However, during a particularly vicious whipping following a bad argument with Madam Yu, Wei Ying lost his control and his secret was out. Of course, he had to flee his home to avoid being mercilessly slaughtered by her and her companions, so he's basically on the run in the cultivator world. He's having A Time with it all. He's too scared to even cultivate for fear of being spotted by any cultivators in disguise, so he kind of loses it and makes up a new form of cultivation, trying to get in touch with his demon side a little.

While he's struggling to survive on the streets and avoid any cultivators for his own safety, he learns about CVZ. He had heard about them while in the clan, but he now finds himself clinging to them as though to distract himself from his awful, shitty life. He learns everything about them - he knows they're hunters too, but they're just so...they're everything he thought he would be able to be someday. It gets to the point where he thinks 'well why the fuck can't it be me? I don't need shitty cultivators..' and fucks around with his cultivation more. He learns to how use his cultivation to create little tears in the Honmoon and close them up again, to summon and even control demons. And so, auditions begin! Most of the demons he manages to summon are some sort of violent and/or just bad at singing, and don't really want to be in a boyband, so he kills them if they're violent or ushers them back through the tear with cultivation if they aren't. It keeps him busy while always being on the move, and he almost forgets why he's doing it when the first demon comes out. He's rather suave and doesn't really know what boybands are, but then Wei Ying shows him a video of CVZ to demonstrate a group to him, he goes "DIANXIA?!?" and immediately asks if this 'boyband' will get him close to Xie Lian.

[cosmerelists]

Rosharans Watch "Legally Blonde"

As requested by @sankta-wraith :)

I already imagined what it would be like if Rosharans were obsessed with Mean Girls. But what would they think if they were able to watch Legally Blonde?

1. Dalinar and Jasnah (What? they read Way of Kings together)

Dalinar: I just don't think I understand it. Dalinar: How is it inspiring for a woman to get into a university? Dalinar: I'm more curious about how her ex-boyfriend managed it. Dalinar: He could surely read, and yet, he didn't seem the type to defy gender norms... Jasnah: We live in a world that places undue stock in eye color. You don't think there are worlds where hair color is the same? Dalinar: So in this world, blondes are the underclass? Jasnah: That seems to be the implication. Jasnah: I would love to delve into the history of that. Dalinar: [Lost in thought, imagining a world where all of the Bridgemen were blond and fashionable] Dalinar: A strange world indeed...

2. Adolin, Shallan, Kaladin

Adolin: Beeend, and snap! Shallan: Nice. Shallan: Beeend, and snap! Adolin: That would DEFINITELY work on me [They both look expectantly at Kaladin] Kaladin: You both paused the movie for fifteen minutes to practice the "bend and snap." You really need me to do it too? Adolin: Yes. Shallan: Demand, really. Kaladin: FINE [Kaladin stands up, bends over, and "snaps" upright. His hair flips upwards with him, truly majestic] Adolin: Wow.... Should have known you'd be the best at it... Shallan: Don't even need to fight wars... Can just send Kaladin out to seduce the enemy... Kaladin: ...Let's just get back to the movie.

3. Bridge 4

Sigzil: All I'm saying, this is a movie about law and procedures. Lopen: No one wants a movie to have MORE forms! Sigzil: Well, for one thing you're wrong about that, but all I'm saying is... Teft: Might have been a bit boring, lad, if they had just whipped out a form. Sigzil: First of all, how dare you, but also--if they just had a "Gay or European" form, then the whole scene would be been so easily resolved! Rock: But it might then have lacked some...oomph. Sigzil (muttering): For a movie that started with an extended narrative about an exam, I just expected more.

4. Nale and Lift

Lift: Did you watch that movie I recommended?? Nale: ... Nale: Ah, yes...the move you recommended... Nale: ...I was certainly glad that...her blondness was legal. And not illegal. Nale: As illegal blondness would be difficult for one such as I to endorse. Lift: YOU DIDN'T WATCH IT AT ALL DID YOU

5. Gavinor and Navani

Gavinor: [staring dispassionately as only a 5-year-old can stare] Navani: Did you like the movie? Gavinor: It was okay. Gavinor: ... Gavinor: After Warner humiliated Elle, all that happened was...he graduated and didn't get a job? Navani: What did you want to happen? Gavinor: Roasted alive while wearing the bunny costume from the Halloween scene? Navani: ... Gavinor: Was that the wrong answer?

6. Szeth and Nightblood

Szeth: Do you think that if I had a small dog that could be carried around in a bag and that could fetch friends when I was in trouble--do you think that would fix me? Nightblood: Yes. Nightblood: And I think...that I am that dog! Szeth: ... Szeth: Do you want me to get a frilly bag to carry you around in, Sword-Nimi? Nightblood: I thought you'd never ask!

7. Sadeas & Ialai

Sadeas: This woman--she wears pink as though it is the livery of her house. Sadeas: She commits to fashion and style, even in the face of those who would put her down for it. Ialai: Personally, I like how she took down her enemies by outmaneuvering them, taking advantage of information that only she possessed. Sadeas: If we had had a daughter, I'd want her to be just like Elle Woods... Ialai: Me too...

[pushinpieta]

“i’m gonna tear into your soul” - weak hero class NSFW (scenarios)

warnings: MDNI, ADULT characters, fem reader, swearing, fingering, overstimulation, cowgirl, thigh riding, cunnilingus, edging, handjob, blowjob, cum eating, gagging, rough sex, backshots, spanking, sadism, masochism, creampie, unprotected sex, rough sex, p in v, pet names (slut, baby)

a/n: i hope you guys enjoy???? 😳 characters: sieun, suho, gotak, baku, juntae, seongje, baekjin

SIEUN - fingering

sieun had your body studied down to the very bones. he spent hours with his fingers between your thighs to memorize all the spots that made your toes curl. comically enough, sieun somehow always managed to keep his composure. calm, collected, cool, lidded-eyes trailing down all your sensitive parts until you shivered in embarrassment all while shoving his fingers deep in a cruel pace. a stark contrast to his gentle demeanor.

in a way, it felt as if he were teasing you with his watchful eyes. taunting you. making you run from it.

two of his fingers curled upwards, prodding at your sweet spot in an agonizingly slow rhythm, as if he were beckoning you to come. which you were— in another way. you were quite literally about to come as he massaged your thighs with one hand while the other was knuckles deep in your soaking wet pussy.

a broken cry left your lips, “sieun! right there!”

“here?” he asked, pumping right into the place that had you clenching your thighs with his hands between them.

“mhm!” you nodded shakily, grinding up into his hands.

your clit rubbed right against the heel of his palm causing your hips to jolt and jerk from the stimulation. electricity shot through your body with each calculated pump. you were close. so close. eyes falling shut, you gripped onto the bed sheets, throwing your head back in a raw sob, wracking your vocal cords.

your orgasm struck you like lightning, sending waves down your spine. goosebumps shot through your skin, feeling an odd cooling sensation run down your skin. sieun, however, did not stop his fingers from moving in and out of your slicky cunt, relishing in the vulgar wet sounds coming from between your legs. a slight, unnoticeable smirk creased his face as he studied your every move. observing the way you gasped every time his fingers slightly pulled out and the way your back arched against his hands when he pushed it back in with force, hitting just the right spot.

“s-sieun— no more—!” you cried out in a pathetic attempt to stop him.

“just one more.” he uttered, ignoring the way you tried to smack his arm away.

his fingers were sticky, beginning to prune from being dug into you for hours on end. you wondered how much longer you could last, it felt as if you had nothing left to give. body growing slack and shaking from overstimulation.

a light slap to your clitoris made you squeal, jerking your hips down to run away from sieun’s fingers. he worked mercilessly, waiting for you to break and shatter under his hold. he slapped again, sending more shockwaves throughout your core.

your eyes fluttered shut, the overwhelming stimulation rolling in your stomach. you were gonna come. again.

“i-i’m gonna come…” you whined, warning sieun who seemed pleased with your response.

“then come.” he breathed out, sultry eyes watching your body stutter with each thorough pump.

and you came. hard.

you cried out, not caring that your neighbors could probably hear you and know exactly what was going on behind the walls but you couldn’t care less. a burning sensation coursed through your muscles, tugging at you from over exertion and pleasure. throat sore from screaming out sieun’s name.

as sieun pulled away, he watched you tremble, lips quivering. he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead. a reward for behaving and taking it so well.

“you did good,” he said, shoving his arousal-slicked fingers into your mouth, “taste yourself.”

“hmfff—“ you gagged around his fingers, tasting yourself.

tongue pushing against his sticky fingers.

“good girl.”

SUHO - cowgirl

there was a primal urge that possessed suho every time you climbed on top of him. his chest heaved up and down as you straddled his lap. you’ve done this many times, it almost felt routine. but for suho, each time felt like the first. a sort of excitement that never wore out no matter how many times you did it. he could never get enough of watching you hovering over him with your sly eyes, brows knitting in concentration.

suho thinks you look the most beautiful like this.

you swallowed, lining up his rock-hard cock to your entrance. the tremble in your hands didn’t go unnoticed by suho as he grabbed you by the hips, rubbing smooth circles to relax your nerves. it always worked.

“you got this, baby.” he cooed, impatience gnawing in his voice.

and once you’ve sunk yourself in, the feel of his length caused you to yelp. with his hands still on your hips, you slowly, steadily, began bouncing up and down on his shaft. your walls squeezed in on him greedily.

suho’s head fell back against the headboard of your shared bed. my wife’s so perfect he thought to himself, tightening his hold on you. moans left through your lips at the way his cock curved right up into your sweet spot, tip slamming into it over and over until you began to writhe. a low groan rumbled from suho, his mouth parted open as labored breathes filled the room. he helped you bounce up and down on him, thrusting his hips up tirelessly.

“s-suho!” you cried, smacking him on the chest.

“you like that, don’t you?” he smirked, grabbing a handful of your ass in this hands, squeezing on it as hard as he could.

“y-yeah.” you nodded frantically, picking up your pace.

“such a good girl,” he praised, moving a strand of you hair to tuck it behind your ear.

he pistoned upwards into you, working his own hips. taking a short glance up, he practically came right on the spot seeing the dazed look in your eyes as you rode him. he pulled you closer to him, kissing the crook of your neck hard enough to leave colored spots all over it. you whined, when he grabbed your ass to guide you up and down on him.

“oh, baby,” he breathed, “you’re clenching so hard i might just come.”

“d-do it.” you dared, losing your ability to form a coherent sentence.

he obliged, throwing his head back with a grumble, cock twitching inside your plush walls as he released his load inside of you.

“fuck—“ he gasped, “you’re so fucking good to me.”

he didn’t let himself relax and fall back after his orgasm, no. he continued to work his hips along with yours, grinding at the perfect angle until you began to dig your nails into him, an indicator that you were soon to break.

“suho—“ you stuttered, trying to grasp onto anything as the overwhelming pleasure traveled through your core, bubbling low in your stomach.

“shh, now it’s your turn.” he encouraged, plopping you upwards then downwards.

then you came with a cry. his favorite sound. a sound that he could hear forever and never get tired off.

your cunt twitched, milking his cock as he helped you ride out your high.

“atta girl.” he tapped your cheek, helping you fall onto your back next to him in the bed with a tired sigh, “you ready for round two? this time i’ll do all the work.”

“do you ever run out of stamina, suho?” you answered, feeling sleep weigh on your eyelids but the desire for him much stronger.

“nah.”

GOTAK - eating you out

gotak could get off just from being buried between your thighs for hours on end. he isn’t even stroking himself or anything, he’s simply working on pleasing you and somehow, for him, that’s enough. he loved every second that was spent working his tongue between your folds. feeling experimental, he tried everything, zizag motion, small circles, big circles, vacuum. name it.

your fingers combed through his raven hair, tugging at the roots with a desperation that screamed for more “gotak, i’m close.”

“hmff,” he latched his mouth away from your pussy to look up at you, “hold it in a little longer.”

with that, his mouth was back on your cunt, tongue swirling everywhere. cat-licking on your clit, causing you to jolt up into his mouth. a hum of satisfaction came from the man below you as he used his tongue to spell out his name on your clit.

G; you spasmed. O; his spit trickled down your center. T; his tongue lapped right where it made you see stars. A; your back arched off the bed. K; you cried out.

“i can’t hold it in anymore!” you panted, feeling as if there was ice cold water being poured all over you, “i’m gonna come!”

he gripped your thighs, ignoring your words, digging his tongue in all the sensitive places. each time you tried to run away from it, he pulled you back, teasing you until you cried and gave in to him.

“what did i tell you?” he spoke to your pussy, “i told you to be patient, didn’t i?”

“but—“ you wanted to just close your eyes and cum but gotak would stop each time you were close, edging you until you were shaking from frustration and need all at once.

it was sickening.

“tsk, no buts,” his voice vibrated through your cunt, “if you behave, i’ll let you come.”

“gotak!” you cried in protest when his lips were back to sucking and nibbling on your sensitive part.

you knew once he glared at you through his lashes that this would last forever if you didn’t oblige, so you laid there and took it obediently.

BAKU - thigh riding

“humin—“ you whined, rutting into his thigh.

“you can do it…” he assured, one hand playing with your tits while the other caressed the side of your face.

you were fully clothed, dressed in shorts and a t shirt yet, the lewd movements you were making on humin made you feel bare. naked and watched. he positioned you on his upper thigh, where it was the easiest for you to rub and grind your clit.

your hips moved languidly against him, feeling the desperate pressure building up. the layers of clothing held a barrier of sort, making you feel frustrated and aroused at the same time. you wondered what fucked up part of your brain made you enjoy this agonizing moment. feeling like a rabid animal in heat as you desperately fought for release. all humin did was bounce his legs, prodding at your clothed cunt until you were jutting down on him with desperate whimpers. begging for him to do something. anything.

usually humin would. he was a giver. he loved to give. especially to you. but seeing the neediness in your every move, you had awoken something in him. uh oh.

“humin, please,” you begged, not sure what for.

“hmm, you’re almost there, though,” he looked down, noticing the wet spot on his grey sweat pants from you, “keep going, i’ll help you if you can make yourself come doing this first.”

“you’re so mean!” tears pricked your vision, feeling small under his gaze.

“sorry, baby, but you just look so cute.” he smiled, kissing you on the cheek, “you make it hard.”

in fact, you did make it hard— his cock hard.

you groaned, rubbing yourself on him greedily until you felt that familiar coil in your stomach. one that made your eyes glue shut in concentration. you moaned, picking up the pace on his thighs. suddenly— your eyes flew open when humin began bouncing his thigh in a faster pace, making your sensitive clit twitch in your panties. soon, you’d fall off if you didn’t grip on him so you did, wrapping your arms around his neck in a tight embrace. it felt intimate as you held onto him for leverage.

pride filled up humin as his girl held onto him for dear life. climax nearing with every bounce and grind. then it finally came, the result of your hard work. your orgasm. it shuddered through your spine, exploding in your stomach. you gasped into humin’s neck, getting overwhelmed by the pleasure and his scent—all of it tangled together arousing your farther. the wetness in your pantries felt sticky and lewd.

humin pulled away with an astonished look, “damn, that really got you off, babe.”

“shut up. you didn’t even help!” you whined, wiping away the stray tears from the corners of your eyes.

“i so did,” he defended, eyes warming from seeing you look exhausted, “how bout’ i make it up to you?”

“by doing what?” you asked.

he lifted you up and gently threw you onto the bed. you squeaked in surprise, giggling from the ticklish feeling of his fingers creeping up your thighs.

“by doing this.” he answered, greedily ripping your shorts and panties off.

JUNTAE - getting a handjob

it was always easy to get juntae all vulnerable like this. with your hands stroking his shaft, each pump causing him to stutter and cling to you. his eyes were rounded, glazed with tears from the sheer pressure. you had been at this for a while now, overstimulating juntae until he cried for you to stop. he knew, though, that he wanted more.

your hands moved up and down his length, wet from your spit lubricant. he was staring up at you. the only sounds coming from his mouth was gasps and whimpers.

“i-i’m gonna—“ he gasped at the sudden pick up of speed on his twitching cock.

“go on, finish your sentence.” your provocative eyes bore down on him, making him shrink smaller under your glare.

“gonna c-come!” he barely managed to get his words out, pathetically bucking into your fist to chase his release.

“cute.” you giggled, watching his red-faced expression.

he hastily thrusted into your hand, desperation causing him to spiral. your movements slowed every time he was close. teasing him.

frustration kicked him in the stomach but there was no escape from you. you’d drag him back and stroke him until all he could see was white and run out of words to speak. he stilled himself, hoping you’d go faster again.

once you did, he groaned. his face contorted in pleasure as you smirked down and jacked him off as rough as you could. juntae’s hands shot up to cling onto you as you fist-fucked his poor dick.

twitch

you smirked as white beads of cum erupted from his tip, leaking all over his sensitive cock.

“aw baby, you’re so cute.” you teased, thumbing his wet tip until he shuddered and twitched.

SEONGJE - blowjob

seongje is evil. pure evil.

he had on your back, in the edge of the bed with your head tilted back at an uncomfortable angle, making it near impossible for you to breathe. regardless of that, he forced your mouth open, pushing the head of his cock past your lips with a low groan.

“that’s it.” he said, voice shaking from the wet and warm feeling of your mouth taking in his cock so obediently.

every movement he made had an intention, thrusting leisurely into your throat like it was his personal glory hole.

“you’re taking it like such a good slut.” he grinned, sly eyes observing the way you struggled to take his entire cock.

you gagged feeling his tip hit the back of your throat. a tear slipped from your eyes as you tried your best not to pass out. his balls tickling the tip of your nose.

arousal spilled between your thighs tasting him.

seongje chuckled as if he could tell you were wet and completely turned on getting used up like this.

“you like that, huh?” he asked, voice teasing and labored.

he threw his head back with a grin, throat bobbing as seongje swallowed hard. you wrapped and swirled your tongue around his cock, sucking on the tip. a guttural groan vibrated from his chest, shaking your core. you snapped your thighs together, turned on out of your mind.

seongje held your head in place with both hands against the edge of the bed so that you didn’t slip off, still pistoning his cock in your mouth mercilessly. you lolled— or at least tried to loll your tongue around his tip like a lollipop. pulling away with a ‘pop’ while seductively looking up at him.

like a hungry wolf, seongje snarled, teeth out and all, staring hungrily down at his helpless prey.

“fuck, sweetheart…” he watched the way his cock disappeared in and out of your pretty and swollen lips, “you’re so fucking hot.”

“hngfff—“ you choked, air scarce in your lungs from seongje’s animalistic thrusts.

your head hung loose. you felt like a toy. seongje’s toy. there wasn’t much for you to complain, though. this was exactly where you wanted to be.

“keep looking at me with those pretty eyes,” he panted, pleasure shooting through his veins.

he closed his eyes with a sigh of satisfaction, head thrown back as if he were taking in victory. seongje was close, he could cum any second especially when you looked up at him through you tear-lined lashes.

his eyes twitched, desire controlling his movements.

“shit—“ he chuckled breathlessly, taking hold of your head to slightly position it upwards.

you sobbed into his cock in response, unable to feel or see anything. either way, you worked your used-up mouth, pushing seongje to the very edge. he gasped, twitching embarrassingly.

a menacing laugh rumbled from within seongje’s chest as he watched you lose your mind. pathetically taking his length until it reached into the deepest part of your throat, making you choke and gag.

grinning like the sadist that he was, seongje fell silent, shuddering as he came all over your face. hot, white liquid painting your pretty face like a marking. you were his toy to play with. his to use.

you licked the stray droplets around your mouth like a thirsty cat, eyes glued on seongje. he watched you like a hawk, eyes wide like a maniac. he took his finger, gathering all the remaining cum from your chin to shove it into your mouth.

you whined, sucking his fingers with a hum. lashes fluttering like butterflies.

“you were made for me.” he whispered, lifting you up from the bed into his arms, “every part of you was made for me. only me. do you understand?”

“y-yes,” you nodded up at him, still recovering from the aftermath of getting whiplashed by his cock.

“good.” he said, a rare tender side of him emerging as he kissed your forehead while sitting you down on the bed.

your head throbbed, neck sore, and your lips puffy and wet with spit and seongje’s cum, yet, you enjoyed every second of suffering and pleasure.

BAEKJIN - backshots & spanking

slap slap slap

it was one of those days where baekjin came home agitated and moody. stressed from dealing with the union. the irritation tightened his stiff shoulders.

when he walked through the front steps of your shared-home, not giving you a second to even greet him. he shoved you against a wall, devouring you kiss after kiss, all teeth and tongue. his tongue latched onto your neck, leaving dark spots everywhere.

with hurried steps, he carried you to your bedroom with an urgency that screamed— demanded now!

frustration soaked every thrust into your gushing cunt. all you could do was shut up and take it. bent over with your ass up in the air. your back arched against baekjin’s hips as he pummeled into your sorry hole. muffled cries erupted from your lips, tears soaking the pillow.

baekjin shoved your face against the pillow. you couldn’t breathe nor make sense of anything other than the feel of baekjin’s tip punching your g-spot until all you could think about was him and his cock. in the mixture of pleasure and desire, he threw in harsh slaps to your ass.

over and over.

“b-baekjin— slow down,” you choked out, tears streaking your face that was mushed up into the pillow.

“can’t handle this?” you knew from his taunting voice that he raised a brow in amusement.

“p-please?” a sob broke out from your throat as you clawed the bedsheet for support.

spank

a harsh slap to your ass caused you to lift your head up and moan. the sharp pain stinging your raw skin. it all felt so wild and rough.

“keep begging and i just might,” he proposed, grabbing you by the hips to start pounding harder into you.

the slapping sound of his hip against yours filled up the bedroom. bed creaked loudly. the headboard banged against the wall.

you worried that the bed would give out and break from the sheer force of baekjin’s thrusts.

your lips wobbled, overwhelmed by the mixture of pain and pleasure. your mind swirled, between the line of consciousness and unconsciousness.

baekjin was vicious and demanding. if he wanted something, he would get it no matter what. his hands raised up, striking your ass with another painful spank.

in response, you moaned loudly. your walls clenching around him. a vice grip on his cock, luring him closer to his release.

“please please please!” desperation seemed evident in your shaky voice as baekjin slammed into your velvety walls.

“mhm, keep going.” he hummed, landing another spank to your surely bruised bum.

“baekjin!” you whined, walls clamming down against his length, clenching tight.

“this turns you on?” he scoffed seeing the way your body reacted to each slap, “what a masochist.”

he finally gave you what you wanted, happy with the way you complied so well. his hips slowed, thrusts becoming more measured and slow. you could feel every inch of him, his veins, and the curved angle of his cock nudging your insides.

“g-gosh— think i’m gonna—“ with another final blow to your ass with the palm of his hand; you came, body giving out.

your muscles felt taut with fatigue as baekjin fucked you through your climax.

he folllwed, coming deep inside of you, filling you to the brim. he groaned, his palms soothing out the red hand prints on your ass. his cold demeanor turned warm, massaging your shoulders. gently, he turned you to face him, laying you flat against his bare chest.

“here, get under the covers,” he kissed your cheek, pulling the covers over your nude bodies, pressing himself against you, “get some rest, now.”

[a-998h]

a rumi x reader where Reader is a cursed immortal that introduces the Honmon and abilities to the first hunters? in the modern era reader is the major sponsor for all expenses anything Huntrix related and Reader and Rumi finally meet?

You were a musogin back then, and a less than personable one at that. Sure, people came to you for your rituals but other than that you were often alone.

Then demons started creeping into the world, taking souls to feed Gwi-Ma and leaving destruction and devastation in their wakes. So, armed with a set of sin-kal seonsaeng Siwang daebeonji, two small brass knives that had one flat side and one rounded side along with a "skirt" cut from twelve pages of hanji paper held together with with string tied in three knots, and a brass bell, that had a "skirt" of multicolored cloth, you when to hold back the demons.

Your mentor had taught you how to harness the positive energy of the human soul to ward of demons, the Honmoon she called it, though you were only on person and no matter how much you tried you were just unable to make a Honmoon big enough to protect an area large than a medium sized village.

Then you found them, one by one. Three young women with the same connects to the world beyond humanity, so you taught them everything you know and they took it in stride. So, with the four of you the Honmoon looked like it was going to succeed and you'd be a part of it!

Until, your soul was almost taken by a jeoseung saja. While you managed to keep your soul and send him back to the underworld, your energies mixed together, causing a Shockwave that threw you against a large tree and caused an injury to your leg.

You were afaird that this new energy inside you would destroy everything you and those young women had been working to protect, so you stepped own and watched as they succeeded in creating the first golden Honmoon. You were proud, maybe this is what your mentor felt all those years ago.

Time ticked on, and as the world seemed to more you never really changed. You realized, the mixed energy that now lived inside you, had caused to you never age and never be able to die, though you only learned this after watching each of those young women grow older and older while stayed the same as you were that night.

So, still fearing the damage your voice could do to the Honmoon, you left the Hunters to teach themselves all while you watched and funded their actives.

You were a name without a face to each generation. In the 1930s you were Jung-Soo, the Hunters of the 1950s knew you as Seong-Ho, in the 1970s you were Sun-Young, to the Sunlight Sisters you were Yu-Jin, and to HUNTR/X you were Gyeong-Min.

They never knew you and you planned to keep it that way, then you saw Saja Boys appear and could tell they were demons right away but you were still too scared to ruin what generations had worked so hard for so the most you did was send extra money and notes of encouragement.

***

All this time, HUNTR/X had been looking for you, or at least the person to claimed to be. The Saja Boys and Gwi-Ma were defeated, except for Jinu who sacrificed himself, and they wanted to thank the person who was one of their biggest supporters but they couldn't find you.

"Are we sure this person is even real?" Zoey asks.

"The money is real," Mira says.

"Yeah, but is it legal?" Rumi asks.

Celine walks into the living room of the penthouse, watching the girls argue over who is sending them money and where it's coming from. She couldn't help but chuckle a bit. She remembers when her and her fellow Sunlight Sisters had a similar conversation all those years ago. Miyeong was the only one to get somewhat close to meeting the mysterious Yu-Jin but then... things changed but Celine kept everything Miyeong had in regards to Yu-Jin.

So, she went to her room and pulls out a dust covered box from under her bed. She returns to the living room, walking towards to group.

"Girls," she started "I have some thing that might help your search," she says, putting the box down.

The girls open the box and go through everything and compare it to what they found out themselves. At first, it seemed like a dead end until Zoey compared the envelopes in the box to the most recent check they got.

"Hey, guys look!" She yelled.

Rumi and Mira looked, and it clicked. It was the same exact post code on the return address on every envelope. It was somewhere in the Gangwon-do, though they didn't know how to find the exact location.

"So, during our break we can go to Gangwon-do and start looking," Rumi suggests.

"Yeah, but who's going to fight the demons and care for Derpy and Sussie?" Zoey asks.

That was a good point, they all couldn't drop everything to go chasing a lead that might not go anywhere. The girls do rock papers scissors to figure out who's going, and Rumi is the lucky girl.

Rumi walks the streets of the city of Gangneung, looking for the place tied to the return address on the envelope. She won't deny the city's scenery is beautiful but she had to stay focused. Her pink hoodie hid her well as she moved her way through the streets.

"This has to be it," Rumi tells herself, standing in front of a house on the beach. It looked very traditional, with two haechi statues guarding the bright red door. The parts of the front yard that were grass were blanketed in touch-me-not and rose of sharon. As she looked around she saw a golden eyed cat, who looked like a lightly toasted marshmallow came to life, was watching her from the window.

Rumi looked at the cat, giving an awkward smile and slight wave. The cat didn't respond, blinking like there was not a single thought behind their giant eyes. Regaining focus, Rumi takes a deep breath and knocks on the door.

There is no sound for a bit and Rumi wonders if no one is home. Then she hears the faint sound of footsteps getting closer to the door. She straightens up and dusts herself off, getting ready for whoever was in the house.

"Who are you?" You asked, a tad snippy because your cat, who you named Bora, had just given you the "gift" of a mouse that you had to clean up.

"Umm, hi. I was wondering if Yu-Jin or Gyeong-Min lived here," Rumi said, nervous.

"Why do you need to know?" You ask, trying to keep your own nerves in check.

"Yu-Jin knew the Sunlight Sisters and Gyeong-Min has been sending me and my friends money and they shared this address," Rumi explained, gesturing to the envelope she was holding.

You sigh, knowing Rumi wouldn't leave unless you let her in. She walked into your home and put on the pair of guest slippers you had. She followed you to the parlor/sitting room where Bora leapt onto her lap, swinging his stubby little tail and meowing for her attention.

Rumi pets Bora as you sit in the armchair on the left of the couch. The only sound is Bora's purrs, the crashing of waves, and the ticking of your clock. You set your tea down and look at Rumi.

"I know who you are, Rumi," you say casually.

"Wait, how did you know?" Rumi asks, shocked.

"I've known who you, Mira, and Zoey are since HUNTR/X was founded. I also know that you three are the next generation of Hunters," you explain.

Rumi asks how you know all that and you sigh, finishing your tea before explaining your origin and how you've been basically been the person funding the Hunters following your time.

Rumi is in shock. Sure, she found demons but a full human becoming immortal was something new she wasn't expecting. She thanks you, for funding HUNTR/X, the Sunlight Sisters, and every hunter trio that came before them.

"Though, I do have to ask. Is your name really Gyeong-Min?" She asks.

"No. My real name is Reader. I took on fake names to not give away my... unique nature," you said.

"Yeah, that makes a lot of sense," Rumi says.

You two talk like old friends, or a grandparent and grandchild, for hours. You talk about how you found Bora, who Rumi learned was a Korean Bobtail, outside during a bad storm and kept him because he was too cute and you were lonely. Rumi tells you about everything that happened with the Saja Boys, Derpy the tiger, Sussie the bird, and her own patterns.

You couldn't help but smile at the strong young woman in your sitting room, standing strong despite everything that's happened. Rumi notices the time, and starts gathering her stuff together to leave, though Bora did try to pull the "you can't move if a cat is sleeping on you" card.

"So, do you want us to keep calling you Gyeong-Min or can we call you Reader?" Rumi asked.

You never thought about this before, after all, you never thought an of the Hunters would try to find you in whatever form you picked. So, with a small smile you told Rumi that she can call you Reader from now on, making her promise to tell Mira, Zoey, and Celine. You even hand her a paper with your phone number, because your time with Rumi made you realize you couldn't be with just Bora forever.

So, now HUNTR/X and Celine video call you once or twice a week to make sure you remember what talking to people feels like, and also because Bora leaps into frame and his cuteness will not be denied.Bobby still hasn't met you, but he sends you cards and gift baskets as thanks for helping HUNTR/X and him.

Sure, you might not be singing again, but you feel more connected than you have in a really long time.

[no-phrogs-in-hats]

Sweet as Sugarcane

Chapter 7: A Shallow Creek

Agatha Harkness x Fem!reader Old West/Oregon Trail AU

Word count: 2,115

Summary: As a New York politician’s daughter, you’re accustomed to a way of life that many people aren’t privy to. But after your mother dies and your father sells everything, the only life you see ahead is on a dusty, deserted trail out west–until you meet Agatha.

Warnings: MDNI; very light NSFW

A/N: Hi, so this did not take as long as I thought it would to write. I'm currently on vacation, so I've had a lot of time to myself for the past couple days. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter, I think it's my favorite one so far.

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Masterlist

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

When your eyes flutter open, you only take in your surroundings for a moment before you gasp. You launch yourself out of bed, and in the process you startle Agatha awake.

“What’s got you so rattled?” she says, voice thick and raspy.

You rush around the room, mind racing at a thousand miles an hour. “Um–it is–!” You struggle pulling your chemise over your head. “Dammit! Um–it is almost four.” You scramble for your linen dress. “I guess I–” Your arm slips through the neck hole and you huff. “I guess I dozed off.”

Agatha snickers to herself as she watches you frantically run around the room. After slipping on your boots, you sigh and lean over the bed on your hands. “I’m sorry I can’t stay,” you say, eyes glancing down at her lips. “I wish I could, truly.”

“I know,” Agatha sighs. “Now, go beat clothes against a rock or whatever you ladies do out there.”

You giggle and lean forward, pressing a firm kiss on her lips. “I’ll see you again?”

“I’m countin’ on it, sugar.” And she sends you off with a wink.

By the time you get back to camp, the men and women in your party are slowly rising. The fire from the previous night is now a heap of glowing embers, and a woman from the other family that joined you is beginning to revive it. 

You’re contemplating the choices you have: either sneak back into a wagon, or march in there with nothing to hide. And you suppose the former would be the hardest with how many people are here. The latter, you could come up with an excuse and go with that. But you don’t have long to decide, because the decision is made for you.

“Where have you been?” Your father’s voice is loud and cuts through the warm summer air.

You freeze when you see him, but manage to find your footing and keep calm. “I apologize if I caused worry,” you say, walking toward him. “I wasn’t feeling well, so I went into town to seek remedy.”

"At this hour?” he asks.

“There was an apothecary open,” you say–a bold face lie, and you hope that he believes it. 

He eyes you suspiciously, but he seems to relax. “Alright, however next time, take one of your brothers. There’s all kinds of wildlife out here. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

You nod. “Yes, papa.”

“Now, go help the women prepare breakfast.”

The morning passes by and you’re exhausted. And despite how tired you are, you’re thrilled when you and your brothers are sent back into town for supplies. It’s almost like a reflex the way you come up with a plan to separate yourself from your brothers. 

‘A bucket,’ you think. ‘I’ll bring a bucket to get water.’

When you enter the dusty, old town, you feel rejuvenated almost. As you walk through, men tip their hats at you–some you recognize from the previous night. But you don’t want them, you want Agatha.  

And the plan works perfectly. You leave your brothers and they have no suspicion of where you’re off to. 

Because you’re getting water.

Only water.

But the source of your water was never specified. You knock three times on the door of Agatha’s home. Your heart thunders in anticipation–but if you’re being honest, you’re worried that she’s not even home. You don’t want to go back in town with your brothers, and if Agatha’s there, you might not even get to see her.

But those worries are pushed aside, because you hear the click and you’re pulled inside. Before you can register what’s happening, she has you pushed against the wall. Her lips are hot against yours as you giggle, dropping the bucket with a clatter and pulling her closer.

“You’re back a lot sooner than I thought you would be,” she breathes against your mouth.

You kiss her again and sigh. “I didn’t think you’d be here.”

Agatha looks at you curiously. “Why are you here?”

“Well, I was sent with my brothers to get supplies for the camp, but…” You reach down and pick up the bucket, a sly grin growing on your face. “I thought I’d be far more useful getting us some water, so I suggested they go ahead without me and I’ll go alone…”

“Well, aren't you naughty?” she tuts. 

“I was thinking I could use the water pump out back,” you suggest, “but since my only intention of being here is to get water, it wouldn’t be very fair to use you, now would it?”

“Oh, not at all,” she scoffs, grinning as she braces herself against the wall. You can feel yourself grow warm as she boxes you in. “There’s a creek nearby. I’d be happy to escort you, darlin’.”

“Why, Miss Harkness, what a kind offer!” You smile brightly and she kisses you softly.

When she pulls away you can see a faint blush on her cheeks. Her eyes drift over your body and then back up to meet yours. “What d’you say I pack some grub and we can have a little do by the river?”

Your cheeks warm and you’re almost speechless. “I would love nothing more.”

You stare at the white horse in front of you, hesitant about climbing on by yourself. When Agatha suggested you ride on your own horse, you were open to the idea, but now, you want to be in her arms as she holds the reins.

“What are you waitin’ for?” Agatha calls from her horse. “Climb on!”

You look over at her, and it’s clear there’s a level of worry in the way you do, because she’s dismounting her horse. She walks over to you, hands on her hips. “You need some help?” she asks with an amused smile. 

“Yes…It’s just a lot taller than I thought it’d be,” you explain quickly.

She comes behind you and places her hands on your waist. “Alright, grab onto the saddle and put your foot in the stirrup.”

You do, and she counts to three, giving you a boost onto the saddle. You get yourself situated, but as you do, she puts her hands on her hips and scoffs. “What are you doin’?”

“What?”

“The way you’re sittin’ on that horse!” she snorts.

You look down–it’s the way you were taught to sit on a horse by yourself, with your legs together on one side, back straight, hands on the reins. “What about it?” you ask.

“You can’t ride a horse side-saddle! Swing your legs over!”

You huff, but ultimately do as she says. “There. Better?”

She smirks. “Much.”

With the basket of food strapped to her horse, Agatha leads you away from the houses scattered on the outskirts of town. It’s not the longest trip–shorter than the ride up to the hill Agatha took you to. When you get there, Agatha lets the horses graze after removing the basket from her horse’s tack. 

In the midday sunlight, you walk down to the riverbed with Agatha. Your hand is tucked neatly in the crook of her elbow and you rest your head on her shoulder as you step through the brush.

You come to a tree beside the river, hosting plenty of shade for your picnic. Agatha sets the basket of food down and removes her leather jacket, setting it down at the base of the tree and spreading it out.

“Can’t let your dress get muddy, sweetheart,” she says. “Have a seat.”

You take a seat on her jacket and unpack the basket as she sits beside you. 

“Cheese and crackers, apples,” you point out, and then gasp and smile mischievously. “Wine? Agatha Harkness, are you trying to get me drunk?” 

Agatha chuckles and you could swear that you see a sparkle in her eye. “No, I just figured a girl like you deserves the finest–well, the finest that I’m capable of givin’ you.”

“It’s perfect,” you smile, and lean in to kiss her. “Thank you.”

Your lunch is filled with laughter, broken by stolen kisses and sips of wine. As the summer heat bears down on you and the weight of exhaustion sits on your shoulders, you lay back on Agatha’s jacket. She follows you down with a kiss on your lips and as you smile, your hand reaches up and takes her hat, putting it on your own head. 

Agatha pulls back and when she sees you, she grins. “Hm…I think you look better in that than I do, hon.”

She doesn’t let you protest, and instead parts your lips with a passionate, yet tender kiss. Her hands run over your waist and grab at the layers of skirt you’re wearing. She breaks the kiss, and both of you are panting, but she grins anyway. “Oh, how convenient it is that all you have to wear under this pretty frock of yours is a chemise.”

Your jaw drops and you laugh loudly. “You’re appalling!”

Agatha kisses you again, taking her hat off of your head and tossing it aside. You bunch up your skirts as her hand travels further down and she hums against your lips. “So eager…You know, lust is a sin,” she teases quietly.

With an impatient huff, you pull her back in by the base of her neck. “Then take me to Hell.”

It’s here at the creekbed–with your fingers digging into her hair and your back arched as she holds you–that you decide that this is what you want. 

This is the life you’ve been craving–not the stone streets of New York City, not the dress fittings and tea, and not the love of a man who will only marry you out of pity. 

This glimpse of her world is what you want–dirt paths that lead to creeks, wildflowers and gardens, and the love of a woman who sees you as someone with value and not something to be pitied. You want her soft touches, you want her kisses every morning when you wake up, and every night before you fall asleep. 

You lay in her arms, the both of you slick with sweat and half undressed. Agatha presses soft kisses to everywhere she can reach–your neck, your collarbones, your cheeks and lips. And when she lays down beside you, she lets out a content sigh.

“Do you like it here?” she asks abruptly.

You turn your head to look at her, and genuinely take in her question. “When I’m at the camp, cooking porridge and gathering firewood, I want nothing more than to go back to New York.” You smile sadly, hand running over her waist. “But then I go into town, and I see you, and New York is the furthest thing from my mind. I want to stay here, with you, Agatha.” Your voice cracks and you find it hard to speak. “I don’t want to go to Oregon.”

“Yeah?” she says, smiling softly and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “And what would you do?”

You chuckle. “I don’t know…maybe I’d become a saloon girl.”

Agatha’s laugh is loud and she snorts. “You? A saloon girl?” she scoffs. “Oh, darlin’, you and your silk slippers would be eaten alive.”

“But I wouldn’t be in Oregon,” you reason, and as you continue, your throat tightens with emotion. “I wouldn’t be trapped in a loveless marriage with a man, where my only purpose is to bear children until I’m in infertile.”

Your hand cups her cheek and your eyes, aching for sleep, look into hers. “I want to stay here, Agatha. I want to stay with you.”

Agatha takes your hand and presses a kiss to your palm. “Sweetheart, I have nothing,” she says painfully. “Barely a silver dollar in my pocket. You deserve to be spoiled–to have everything that is fine in this world. Silk slippers, parasols, petticoats, I can’t give you any of that.”

“How shallow you must think me, if you believe that what I require in my life is material items.” You shake your head and chuckle. “Do you honestly believe that I’d trade you for a pair of shoes, or nice bedding? That I’d trade you for anything? I want you, Agatha, and everything that comes with.”

Agatha’s lips curl into a grin and she runs her hand along your jaw, cupping your chin. Her eyes search yours and her voice is quiet, “Careful what you wish for, little lady. You might find more than what you bargained for.”

And as you lay in her arms, beneath the tree and beside the running creek, you have only one thought:

If this is Hell, I don’t ever want to see the gates of Heaven.

[lovelyhavenn]

DJ GOT US FALLIN' IN LOVE | BUCKY BARNES X READER

Summary: after a heavy week, you convinced the team to go and spend your night partying in the club. Under the flashing neon lights, something snaps in bucky as he saw someone making a move on you.

Warning: none!

Note: play "rock that body by black eyed peas" And "Dj got us fallin' in love by Usher"

It was a heavy week for all of you guys, mission after mission that all of you barely got to sleep or maybe eat on time. You think that you guys deserve at least one night to have fun, to party, to drink and dance till the night dies. You managed to convince them, they were hesistant, but they agreed.

" We might need it, to loosen up. Afterall, it's been a while." Yelena was the first to agree, so the others did too. You were happy, excited, it's been a while that you've been in a club with blasting music, you missed that feeling.

Before you became an avenger, or maybe years prior to that, when you were in college you always threw parties, attend parties and sneak out all the time. You were a wild child but the responsible kind, never did anything more reckless than drinking the end of dawn. That's all.

"Sure, just pick a good place," Ava said before phasing into her room. You looked over to the others, bucky nodded, while walker, alexei, and bob walked over to their room.

You wore this black dress, backless and hugged your body in all the right places. It was comfortable yet sexy, sultry, and breathtaking. You paired it with your heels, maroon stilettos and maroon lipstick. You sprit your perfume and finally looked in front of our mirror.

"You trying to break bucky?" Yelena asked, leaning against your door frame. She looked good, especially with her blue eyeliner.

"Break bucky? How?" You asked, arching a brow, face plastered with confusion.

"You don't see what i see, but he's got eyes on you," She chuckled. You scoffed, that sounds impossible.

"Uh huh, in my dreams, maybe." You joked. That was literally impossible. Bucky barnes, having a thing for you, his eyes on you. He's everything that you want, but you think or you believe that you're not everything that he might want. Yeah, he's kind, caring, attentive, observant when it comes to you. He learned how to braid a woman's hair for you, because apparently he noticed your hands shaking while doing it, you were struggling, that's why he learned. That doesn't mean anything, he might do that with others too.

He does everything for you, he carries your bag, makes sure you don't walk close to the road, when you're out he lets you walk in front of him so he can have a better view of you and your safety, he goes to book stores with you, and more. He takes care of you when you're sick and when you're sick you get whiney, but he didn't leave you. There's just to many, to many that you can't count the things he does for you. And he wouldn't fall for you but you did fall for him, down bad.

"Think about it, and see for yourself." She left your room, and you follwed right after. You caught up with yelena, walking side by side with her.

"See for myself, what does that mean?" You asked. When you arrived in the common room, everyone's eyes was on you and yelena. Well, you two were late. What do you expect, of course they'd stare the of you down.

Bucky's eyes lingered on you, staring at you up and down, swallowing a huge lump on his throat. The moment he saw your eyes, he smiled, his glance not leaving yours.

"Told you, need more proof?" Yelena said, walking over to ava. All of you got in the elevator, your body bumped against bucky.

"You look beautiful." He whispered, his voice sending you to insanity. That damn soft yet there's a hint of roughness.

"You don't look bad yourself, barnes," You teased. Oh he was gorgeous, mouth watering, breathtaking, like and absolute god but that's a secret you won't tell. Bucky is driving and you're in the passenger seat, walker and alexei in the back and ava, bob, and yelena in the middle.

"So this club i know is underrated, not a lot are coming here but the music and the drinks are good. Trust me, I've been... Nevermind." You cut yourself off, bucky does not know how you used to party all night when you were in college years ago.

"You've been? Mind continuing that, doll?" Bucky glanced at you before glancing back into the road.

"Uh, I've been partying there when i was in college, a long time ago. Almost every week?" You confessed. It was a whisper though, only bucky could hear, you hope.

"So, you love parties? you are the social type?" He asked. Of course he knew you were the social type, you talk to people as if you've known them for years. And you get along with everyone.

"Uh, maybe? I knew almost everyone? I get invited to parties all the time," You confessed. Bucky parked the car and when you all entered the club, it had lights flashing, music boosted and bodies dancing and drinking everywhere. It wasn't packed like other clubs, it was just enough. It smelled like alcohol, sweat, and cologne everywhere.

The moment you entered, you got pulled into the dance floor along with yelena and ava. While the guys went to the bar, ordering their drinks. The club was playing 'rock that body by black eyed peas'

"Rock that body! C'mon, rock that body!" Everyone screamed the lyrics, dancing along with it. Everyone was having a blast.

You swayed your hips through the beats of the song, yelana and ava danced along too with drinks on their hands.

You were already three shots in, heels forgotten, dancing like the floor was on fire. The club lights flashed neon pink and electric blue as you grabbed Yelena's hand, spun her around, and shouted, “THIS IS OUR SONG!”

Yelena cackled, drink almost spilled on herself. “This is trash music, but I love it!”

Yelena spun in place, it was already full of chaos while yelena was trying to pull ava to dance. "If i die tonight, i want this at my funeral!" Yelena said, in a loud voice since the music was blasting loud.

All three of you doubled over laughing, still dancing, still jumping, arms around each other in a ridiculous triangle of movement.

While you had your fun, the guys, especially bucky is looking at you from the bar. He doesn't interfere, just looking at you having the time of your life. You looked so carefree and happy, and it made him happy too just seeing you. You definitely didn't notice him staring.

Yelena raised her glass. “To bad decisions and great music.”

You clinked your glass to hers. “And even better friends.”

Ava rolled her eyes. “You’re both the worst.” But she clinked her glass too.

While the music is blasting, you twirled, arms in the air, eyes closed for just a second, letting yourself feel free. You closed your eyes, feeling the rhythm of the song, your hair bounced and flowed because of your movement, your body swaying through the beat of the music and your waist moving side by side.

Suddenly, while dancing, a guy touched your waist, maneuvering it over to his own body, riding the rhythm of the song. You stopped on your tracks and so did he, you backed away.

"Hi, wanna dance?" He asked, smiling. "I can buy you drink, pretty girl." He started offering you a drink.

"Sorry, no. I can buy my own drinks, and my friends wouldn't appreciate me talking to a stranger. Stranger danger," You laughed. You were about to leave, but he held onto your wrist.

"I'm clyde, nice to meet you. Can i get your name so we wouldn't be strangers anymore?" He asked, smiling. It was irritating. He's just so persistent, you already said a clear 'no' yet he wouldn't listen.

"N-" You were about to say no again, but someone stood in front of you. Bucky. He's towering the guy, looking at him intensely.

"She said no. Are you deaf or plain stupid?" Bucky asked, although he tried to show calmness in his voice, him being furious still peaked through.

"Bro, step aside. I got to her first, wait for your turn." Clyde tried to push bucky off to get to you, but bucky held him, using his vibranium arm, yanking the guy away from you.

"Wait for my turn? She ain't a toy to have people waiting for their turn on her. Step forward and I'll break your jaw." Bucky hissed, clearly mad and irritated. Clyde tried to punch him, but bucky caught his fist using his vibranium arm. Clyde tried to fight it, but knowing Bucky's strength, Clyde's fist didn't get to move any further.

"I warned you." He then pushed Clyde, he fell to the ground, and with the right enough of embarrassment going through his veins the moment he stood up, he left and didn't look back again.

"You okay, doll? Did he do something?" Bucky asked, checking you out for possible hints of pain or discomfort. Crazy how he can change his voice from being furious to being soft in an instant. You can melt right here because of it.

"No, I'm okay," You answered. He didn't look convinced though. "Bucky, I'm really okay, he didn't get to touch me further because of you, thank you."

"You know, I'll keep you safe anytime, right?" His soft voice is doing something to you. Your huge crush on him is just growing day by day, and this night does not help.

"Yeah, you'd to that to all of us."

"Yeah, i would. Especially you, I'd break anyone's jaw if they tried to hurt you." He looked down on you, hand on your cheek. He's looking at you with his steel blue eyes, just you, under different colors of light flashing in the club.

"I... Bucky, i kinda hoped you'd do that, " You confessed, the alcohol kicking in your system. Bucky smiled with disbelief and happiness, having to hear you say that cracked something in him.

"Even if you don't hope, I'd do that. I can't watch them have their hands on you, doll." He took your hands, guiding them to his neck. Your hand stayed in his neck, while the other one played with his hair, bucky closed his eyes shut, breathing heavily. The dj switched the song again, it's now playing 'Dj got us fallin' in love by Usher'

"You drive me insane, you know?" He said, voice low, soft, his forehead rested on yours. "You've been driving me insane, doll. It's hard acting all normal and shit everytime i see you when all i wanna do is to be yours." He breathed out, your heart skipped a beat. So... He felt the same way?

"I love it when you hold me during nightmares or when I'm tired, you don't have too but you do. Love it when you play with my hair, when you always reach out and include me, when you smile as if this fucked up world hasn't hurt you, when you jump in danger for us, that's rare, but please don't do that. Even if i say I'm fine, you always know what's up, you don't push but you make sure that your presence is felt and that makes me feel better. You made me believe that's there's still good in me, and i believe that now too. Or when you kissed my scar one time, no judgement. Fuck, I'm talking too much... You feel like home."

His hand resting on you back while the other one reached for your face. You can practically hear each other's heart right now.

"Wow... "You uttered.

" Wow as in you feel the same way, or wow as in 'you talk shit, bucky' " He asked, making you laugh.

"God, i love your laugh," He uttered. Your body is still swaying with him, your hand still playing with his hair. Your bodies are literally close to one another.

"I haven't push you off me yet, that's a start. And wow as in, i wanna fucking kiss you, bucky."

"Call me james, doll... I'm yours."

"James... "And with that, he connects his lips with yours. The crowd and music faded in the background, it's just the two of you in your own world. The kiss was soft, filled with love and patience and it was long overdue.

Your lips moved along with the music, bucky pulled your body closer to him, eliminating the gap between the two of you. from soft, his kisses turned into eager, as if he doesn't want to let go of you. And when he pulled away, his lips formed into a smile. Both of you are breathless, yet happy.

"I've always wanted to do that. It's even better that what I've anticipated," He blurts out. You chuckled softly, cheeks flushed.

"You anticipated for this?" You asked, softly, with a hint of teasing.

"Yeah. I've always wanted to feel your lips on mine, and it's better that what I've imagined. Doll, I have a thing for you, always have, I love you for so long now. It's not just a crush i feel, it's more. And i can show you if you let me." Bucky said, hoping that you'd give him a chance to show you how much you mean to him.

You didn't say anything, you just smiled and pulled him for another kiss. He immediately kissed you back with no hesitation.

"Does that answer your question? I've always wanted this too, for so long. Show me your love and I'll show mine." He pulled you for another kiss, this time, softer and the both of your smiled in between kisses.

"Pay up, told you they will crack tonight." Yelena nudged Ava's shoulder, clearly they made a bet about the two of you.

[bookloover35]

A World Of Magic In The Apocalypse/ Daryl Dixon.

You were scavenging in an old house, the wood creaking under your boots as you picked your way through the rubble. It was amazing how much the world had changed — homes that once held laughter and warmth were now shells of their former selves, abandoned and broken. But you kept looking. In times like these, you never knew what treasures you might find.

A flicker of something colorful caught your eye in one of the upstairs bedrooms. Curious, you pushed open the door, sending a cloud of dust into the air. Your eyes widened as you stepped inside. There, lying scattered across the floor like fallen leaves, were stacks of old VHS tapes.

You knelt down, wiping the dust off the cases. The familiar images made your heart skip a beat. The Lion King, Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin, The Little Mermaid... Disney classics, all still intact. They were relics of a time when your biggest worry was what movie to watch on a Friday night, not whether you'd make it through the day alive.

A grin spread across your face as an idea began to take shape. It had been so long since the group had done anything that even remotely felt normal. Maybe a movie night was exactly what everyone needed. And Daryl... your husband could definitely use a break.

By the time you made it back to the camp, the sun was setting. The group was busy with their evening tasks — Michonne and Rick discussing patrols, Carol tending to dinner, and Daryl sitting by the fire, sharpening his knife as he always did when he needed to unwind.

"Hey," you called, making your way over to him. He glanced up, his sharp blue eyes softening when they met yours.

"Find anything good?" he asked, his voice gruff as usual but with that familiar warmth reserved just for you.

"Maybe." You gave him a teasing smile and held up one of the VHS tapes. He raised an eyebrow, clearly confused.

"What the hell's that?" he grunted, setting his knife down.

You rolled your eyes with a playful laugh. "It's a movie, Daryl. You know, Disney?" His blank stare made you shake your head. "Seriously? You never watched Disney movies as a kid?"

Daryl shrugged, looking a little sheepish. "Ain't had much time for stuff like that," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Well," you said with a determined glint in your eye, "tonight, we're changing that. I found a whole stash of these tapes and a battery-powered TV. We're having a movie night. Just you and me."

He gave you a dubious look, as if the concept of sitting still for an hour or two was somehow against his nature. But you knew Daryl. Beneath all that gruffness, he was a soft-hearted man who cared deeply about you. And you had a hunch he'd say yes — if only to see you smile.

Later that night, after some convincing (and a bit of bribing with an extra serving of Carol's squirrel stew), you managed to get Daryl to join you in the corner of your little cabin. You had set up the tiny TV and found an old blanket to curl up on. Daryl sat beside you, looking stiff and awkward, clearly out of his element.

"You're gonna love this," you promised, pressing play on the tape of The Lion King. The opening notes of "Circle of Life" filled the room, and you couldn't help the grin that spread across your face as the familiar scenes flickered on the screen.

At first, Daryl seemed disinterested, arms crossed and eyes darting around like he was expecting a walker to burst through the door any second. But as the movie went on, you noticed his posture relax. By the time Simba and Nala were singing "Can You Feel the Love Tonight?", Daryl's arm had somehow found its way around your shoulders, pulling you close.

"Ya know, this ain't half bad," he admitted quietly, his voice barely audible over the music.

You turned to look at him, a teasing smile on your lips. "Told you so," you whispered, resting your head against his shoulder. For a moment, the world outside disappeared. There were no walkers, no danger, just the two of you wrapped in the warmth of each other's company.

When the movie ended, you turned to him with a hopeful look. "So... what'd you think?"

Daryl shrugged, trying to play it cool, but the hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Guess it was alright," he said, but the way he squeezed your shoulder told you he'd enjoyed it more than he was letting on.

"Wanna watch another one?" you asked, holding up Beauty and the Beast with a playful grin.

He sighed, but there was no mistaking the fondness in his eyes. "Alright, but only 'cause ya seem so damn happy 'bout it," he said, nudging you gently.

As the next movie started, you nestled deeper into his side. For a few hours, the weight of the world seemed to lift. The apocalypse, the endless struggle for survival — none of it mattered in that little bubble of light and laughter you had created.

And for Daryl, seeing you smile and hearing your laughter was worth every second.

End

[orellazalonia]

To Love A Lie (Pt. 2)

Summary: Your growing unease over Bucky’s secrecy begins to chip away at the trust between you, especially after you’re suddenly turned away from his office and confront Steve about your husband. However, Bucky keeps gently but firmly shutting you down, warning you not to dig deeper; all under the guise of love and protection. (1940s AU | Soft!Dark!Bucky Barnes x Housewife!reader)

Word Count: 3.6k+

Main Masterlist | Part 1

It had been a week since the day you walked into Bucky’s office and saw… something you weren’t supposed to.

You’d convinced yourself it was nothing. A strange meeting, a new department, high-level military business that didn’t concern a housewife. That’s what Bucky said, and Bucky had never given you a reason not to trust him. You told yourself he’d just caught you off guard, told yourself the symbol meant something cold and boring, not dangerous. Not strange. Not wrong.

But something had shifted.

You started noticing little things.

The men you passed in the hallway no longer made eye contact. They used to smile, now they barely looked at you at all. His secretary was gone too, a new one sat stiffly at the desk outside his office, younger, quieter, and jumpy. You never saw her reading or doing crossword puzzles. She just sat there, watching the door.

And Bucky… he hadn’t changed much on the surface. He still kissed your forehead every morning, still told you he loved you with that boyish smile and soft laugh. But now, when you asked about his day, he redirected faster. He kissed you mid-sentence, brushed your hair back and told you you worried too much. He said that you were too sweet to be carrying the weight of his world.

That night, you found yourself lying beside him in bed, wide awake while he slept soundly. You loved him. Of course you did. But you were starting to wonder if you really knew him.

And the next day, you made his favorite sandwich and walked it over during lunch, just like you always had; but you were met at the front desk.

“Mrs. Barnes,” One of the guards said, holding out a hand to stop you. “Mr. Barnes is in meetings today. He won’t be available.”

You blinked, confused. “Oh. That’s alright, I don’t mind waiting–”

“I’ve been instructed to escort you home.”

There it was again, that tightness in your chest, the cold feeling in your stomach. But you managed a polite smile and handed the sandwich to the man.

“That’s okay. Give him this for me please and tell him I’ll see him tonight.”

That evening, the apartment smelled like fried onions and warm bread when Bucky walked in, removing his gloves and coat with a familiar ease. You turned from the stove to greet him with a soft smile, trying to act like nothing was wrong. Like you hadn’t been turned away for the first time since you started your daily visits.

“You didn’t get your sandwich,” You said.

“I did,” He replied. “Thank you. It was perfect, as always.”

He kissed your cheek and poured himself a drink, sleeves already rolled up. You watched him from the counter, unsure of how to bring it up. The tension built slowly in your chest until the words finally slipped out.

“Why didn’t they let me up today?”

He didn’t look surprised. Bucky set his glass down gently, then turned to lean against the counter, eyes on you. He didn’t smile this time, not right away.

“Because I was busy,” He said calmly. “That’s all.”

“They said they were instructed to send me home.”

“That’s right,” He replied, voice still quiet. “By me.”

You shifted, suddenly aware of how small the kitchen felt. “Why? I’ve never needed an appointment before.”

He tilted his head slightly.

“You’ve been asking more questions lately, sweetheart.”

You froze. “What does that mean?”

“It means I needed you to take a day off. You don’t need to come to my office every day. Let me do my work. You’re already doing more than enough just being here when I come home.”

“But I want to visit you–”

“I know.” He stepped closer, his hand reaching to cup your cheek. “And I love that. I do. But you saw something last week you weren’t supposed to see, and now your mind’s working overtime trying to make sense of it. You’re not sleeping well, you’re overthinking; I see it all over your face.”

You tried to step back, but he followed, gentle but insistent.

“I’m not mad,” He continued. “I just need you to trust me when I say you don’t want to know everything.”

You looked up at him, heart thudding.

His thumb brushed your cheek. “You’re too good for that world.”

“What world, Bucky?”

His smile was soft, so soft it chilled you.

“The one I work in.”

You didn’t say anything. You didn’t know what to say.

“I love you,” He whispered, pressing his forehead to yours. “And I will never let anything happen to you. But if you start digging… you could get hurt. Do you understand me?”

Your throat tightened.

“Yes,” You whispered. “I understand.”

His lips brushed your temple. “Good girl.”

But that night, as he slept soundly beside you once more, you stared at the ceiling, wondering how long you could pretend you didn’t feel the cracks forming beneath your feet. And if loving him meant learning to ignore them completely.

The city was unusually loud that morning. The sound of delivery trucks moving over wet cobblestones, of factory whistles screaming across rooftops, of war posters flapping against windows with each gust of wind. You barely noticed any of it. You just kept walking, your gloves clenched tight around your purse strap, and your steps a little faster than usual.

You hadn’t told Bucky where you were going. He hadn’t asked.

The anxiety had started building the night he warned you. Sweetly, tenderly, but unmistakably not to dig any further. You tried to tell yourself he was being protective, that it was love, that he was keeping you safe, like he said. But deep in your gut, something cold was settling. Something heavier than doubt.

So you did what you always did when you didn’t know how to feel: you went to Steve. He was always kind, steady, and always good.

Steve answered the door to his modest apartment in a plain white shirt, sleeves pushed up, paint still smudged faintly across his wrist. He blinked in surprise when he saw you, then immediately stepped aside to let you in.

“You alright?” He asked as you stepped inside. “You look like you ran half the way here.”

You tried to smile. “I needed some air.”

The apartment was small, but warm and lived in. A teacup sat on the table beside a sketchpad. You’d always found some sort of comfort in the simplicity of Steve’s space.

“I just…” You hesitated, removing your gloves slowly. “I needed someone to talk to.”

Steve’s brow furrowed slightly, concern settling behind his eyes.

“I don’t know what’s happening,” You confessed. “I love him, Steve. I do, but something’s wrong. Something’s… off.”

He said nothing at first. Just nodded for you to sit and poured you a cup of the lukewarm tea he’d abandoned moments before.

You watched him carefully. “You’ve known him longer than I have. Has he ever… has he ever scared you?”

Steve froze mid-pour, only for a second. Then he resumed, slow and measured.

“No,” He said gently. “Not me.”

You frowned. “But you’ve seen him in combat. You’ve seen him when he’s angry.”

“I’ve also seen him carry your photo in his pocket when he was half-frozen in the mountains.” He sat across from you, voice even. “He loves you.”

“That’s not the same as being safe with someone.”

The words surprised even you.

Steve leaned back, studying you for a long moment. “What happened?”

You told him. Not everything, but the parts you could say out loud. The men in the office, the symbol on the wall, the way Bucky looked at you when you asked questions. How he was not angry, never angry but careful and controlled. Like he was already ten steps ahead of you.

And then his words, the ones that had echoed in your head every night since: If you start digging… you could get hurt.

Steve was quiet.

“I feel like everyone knows something I don’t,” You said finally. “You, Peggy, that office… even his new secretary looks at me like I’m a porcelain doll someone’s afraid to crack.”

Steve looked down at his hands.

“Tell me the truth,” You said, your voice quieter now. “Is Bucky in trouble?”

His jaw tightened. “He’s not the one in danger.”

You went still.

He saw it immediately. The way your eyes widened, the way your breath hitched, and he leaned forward, suddenly serious.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then how did you mean it?”

“He’s doing what he thinks is right, what he has to do.” Steve’s voice lowered. “Things aren’t black and white anymore, not in this war. Not for him.”

You stared at him. “Why won’t anyone tell me the truth?”

Steve looked at you before saying quietly: “Because if you knew it… you couldn’t go back.”

Your lips parted, but no words came.

“I’m sorry,” He said, his voice barely above a whisper. “You asked me once if I knew what Bucky did. I said I knew enough and that’s still true.”

You felt like a stone had dropped into your chest. He wouldn’t tell you. He couldn’t.

But the way he looked at you, full of sorrow and regret, told you everything you needed to know.

So you went home in silence.

You slipped back into your apartment like nothing had happened, set your gloves on the table, and hung up your coat. The house was warm and Bucky was sitting in the armchair by the fire, reading something in a thick black folder.

He looked up as you entered, smiling like always.

“Hey, sweetheart,” He said, standing to greet you with a kiss to your temple. “Where’d you run off to today?”

You smiled, perfect and practiced.

“Nowhere important.”

He kissed your forehead again, pulling you close. And you let him.

But the apartment felt heavier the next day. It was as if the shadows had settled deeper in the corners, as if the silence between each tick of the wall clock lasted longer than it should have. You cleaned the kitchen twice, scrubbed the stove until your knees stung, washed the sink spotless, and rearranged the same stack of recipe cards three different ways. Anything to stay busy.

Anything not to think about what Steve hadn’t told you.

You’d said nothing to Bucky about visiting him. You didn’t need to and he hadn’t asked again. But something about the way he moved around the house now; slower, quieter, and watching, made your stomach coil.

You caught him watching you a lot lately. However, it wasn’t in the adoring, dreamy way he used to, but in the way someone watches a locked door they know they forgot to bolt.

That evening, he came home early without any warning or phone call.

You were in the middle of setting the table when the door opened, and Bucky walked in wearing his darker coat. The one you never liked, the one he only wore to “off-site” meetings. He was silent for a moment, brushing snow off his shoulders and removing his gloves with methodical care.

Then he looked up at you and smiled.

“Long day?” You asked lightly.

He shrugged. “No more than usual.”

You nodded and turned back to the dishes, but his eyes lingered. You could feel it, crawling up your back.

“You went out yesterday,” He said casually, as he removed his coat. “Peggy told me.”

Your fingers paused, just briefly. “Yes. I stopped by to see Steve.”

He nodded once. “You didn’t mention it.”

You offered a faint smile without turning. “Didn’t think I had to. He’s your oldest friend.”

“That he is.”

You turned then, catching the flicker in his expression. He was smiling, but it didn’t reach his eyes, not like it used to.

“I just needed to clear my head,” You explained, voice softening. “I wasn’t feeling like myself.”

Bucky walked over and took your hand in his, rubbing slow circles into your knuckles. “Is that so?”

You nodded. “It’s just been a strange week.”

His thumb stilled. “Steve say anything to you?”

“Just that you love me,” You answered quietly. “And that things aren’t so simple these days.”

He studied you. You could feel the weight of the silence around you, the quiet calculation behind his gaze. His face was gentle but his hand was still.

“Steve talks too much,” He said at last. Not cruelly. Just… matter-of-fact.

You didn’t respond.

“I know you’ve got questions,” He went on. “And I don’t blame you. I let you see something I shouldn’t have. That was my mistake.”

You opened your mouth, but he lifted a finger, just enough to pause you.

“I’m not mad,” He said. “I just need to know something.”

You waited.

“Did he tell you anything that made you afraid of me?”

The question sliced into the quiet like a blade.

You met his blue, unwavering eyes and something deep in your chest clenched.

“No,” You whispered.

A long beat passed. Then his hand relaxed again, thumb stroking yours gently.

“Good,” He said softly. “Because you don’t need to be.”

He leaned in, kissed your forehead, and gently guided you back toward the table.

You hadn’t lied to him exactly. Steve hadn’t told you anything that made you afraid of Bucky. But it was the things he wouldn’t say, the things he swallowed back and buried beneath kind eyes that scared you the most.

And now Bucky knew you were asking. And you didn’t know how many more questions you were allowed before the door slammed shut for good.

The diner was nearly empty, the air was thick with the smell of stale coffee and fried bacon grease that had seeped into the floorboards over decades. It was the kind of place that didn’t ask questions and never turned off the radio. It was a neutral ground: familiar, unassuming, and quiet.

Steve sat in the corner booth, back to the wall with his coat draped beside him. He sipped black coffee, his sketchbook open on the table but untouched. His eyes flicked to the door the second it opened.

Bucky entered without a word.

He didn’t look like the man who came home to you each night. Not like the loving husband who kissed your cheek and smoothed your hair and called you sweetheart in that low, easy voice. No. This Bucky was sharper, colder. His shoulders rigid beneath his dark coat and his steps precise. He looked more like the man who stood in that office full of silent, black-clad men.

He slid into the booth across from Steve. He didn’t order anything, didn’t smile. And Steve didn’t look surprised. They sat in silence for a few moments. The radio buzzed softly in the background, crackling through a slow ballad.

Bucky broke the silence first.

“You told her something.”

Steve didn’t deny it.

“I told her nothing she didn’t already know,” He said calmly.

“That’s not how she looked at me last night.”

“How did she look at you?”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Like she was trying to see what’s underneath the surface. That’s your doing.”

Steve leaned forward slightly, voice still even. “She came to me because she’s scared, Buck. Not of you–yet, but of what she’s starting to feel. And you’ve got her walking around in the dark.”

“I’m keeping her safe.”

“You’re keeping her blind. There’s a difference.”

“She doesn’t need the burden.”

“She’s your wife. She already carries it.”

Bucky didn’t answer at first. He stared at the scratched tabletop, jaw clenched tight. When he finally spoke, his voice was lower, laced with something heavier.

“She wasn’t supposed to be part of this world.”

“But she is,” Steve said quietly. “She became part of it the moment you built your empire on secrets and asked her to wait at the door.”

Bucky’s eyes flashed sharp. “You think I don’t know that?”

Steve didn’t flinch.

“I love her,” Bucky said, almost too quiet. “I’d burn every inch of this city before I let anything happen to her.”

Steve looked at his oldest friend. The boy who once jumped off roofs, the soldier who once bled in the snow beside him, the man who now held the fate of something far darker in his hands.

“I know,” Steve said softly. “That’s what concerns me.”

Another silence settled between them. Outside, a truck rumbled past, sending a gust of wind against the windows.

“You used to tell me everything,” Steve said after a while. “Even the things that made your voice shake.”

Bucky stared at him. “And you used to believe in everything I did.”

“I believed in you,” Steve said quietly. “But I don’t know what you’ve become.”

The words hung there. Not an accusation, but not a plea, either. Just the truth.

Bucky stood. His chair made little sound as he slid it back.

“I’ll forgive you once,” He said. “For speaking to her behind my back. You do it again, Steve, and I won’t.”

Steve didn’t rise or argue. He just watched Bucky go.

The bell above the door jingled softly as it closed, and the radio crackled on with a grainy voice singing about love and war like they were the same thing.

Bucky didn’t return to the office that afternoon.

Instead, he walked through side streets and alleys slick with ice. Past shuttered windows and red-splashed propaganda. He didn’t feel the cold anymore. Not since he became something colder himself.

Steve’s voice still echoed in his head: She’s already carrying it.

He wanted to believe it wasn’t true. That you were still untouched. Still good. Still soft and dreaming in the little world he built for you full of teacups and candles, recipe cards and love letters. Not like the world he lived in, where power snapped bones and silence buried bodies.

You didn’t belong in that. You weren’t made for it. And maybe that’s what made him selfish. Because every time your fingers brushed his arm or you looked at him with soft eyes and called him home, he remembered what he used to be. Who he still pretended to be when he walked through your front door.

So no, he didn’t regret keeping you in the dark. He regretted that the door had cracked open at all.

She doesn’t need to know, He told himself again as he walked. She just needs to be safe.

Safe was better than truth and he’d kill anyone who tried to give you anything less.

When he came home, you were curled on the couch with a robe tied loosely around your waist and a half-read book resting on your chest. You’d left the lights low, fire flickering in the hearth, and soft music playing from the record player he’d given you for your last birthday. You looked up as the door closed behind him, your smile cautious.

“Everything alright?” You asked.

He didn’t answer right away. He took off his coat slowly, hanging it on the hook by the door with deliberate care. You watched him, waiting, hopinh. But when he finally turned to you, that gentle smile was already in place, the one he used when he didn’t want to talk about something.

“Did you eat?” He asked instead, walking toward you.

You sat up straighter. “I asked if everything was alright.”

He leaned down to kiss your forehead, brushing a hand over your hair like he could smooth the question away with touch alone.

“Course it is,” He murmured. “You shouldn’t worry about things that don’t involve you, sweetheart.”

Your lips parted, but before you could press, he sat beside you and reached for your hand, voice soft but firm.

“I had a long day, not the kind that’s worth unpacking. What matters is I’m home now, yeah?”

“But I can handle it if something’s wrong,” You tried. “I want to know if–”

“I don’t want you wasting that pretty head of yours on things you can’t fix,” He said, still smiling but quieter now. Colder, if only just.

You hesitated, fingers curling slightly in your lap. He kissed your knuckles and leaned back, exhaling like the matter was settled.

“Now… tell me about your day, love,” He said softly, thumb brushing over your knuckles.

But you didn’t answer. You looked at him, really looked, at the shadows under his eyes, the careful way he held your hand like he was afraid of breaking something.

And for once, you didn’t let him steer the conversation away.

“You always do that,” You spoke quietly. “You never tell me the truth.”

His smile didn’t falter, but it stopped reaching his eyes.

“I tell you the truth you need,” He replied.

“That’s not the same thing.”

He leaned forward, resting his hand on your knee, his voice low and careful.

“It is when the other kind could hurt you.”

You swallowed. “I’m not a child, Bucky.”

“No,” He murmured, brushing your cheek now, “You’re not, but you’re still the best thing I have. And the only reason I walk through that door every night.”

You blinked. He kissed you then; slow and deliberate, like a promise he couldn’t afford to break. Like an apology for the truth you’d never hear, and a warning for how close you already were to hearing it.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.

“Don’t talk to Steve about this anymore,” He said softly.

You froze. “He’s my friend.”

“He’s mine too,” Bucky murmured. “But he doesn’t know what’s best for you like I do.”

His hand slipped to cradle the side of your neck, tender but firm, a lover’s touch with the quiet weight of command underneath.

You didn’t answer at first. You just sat there in his arms, heart racing against his chest, every beat of it echoing louder in your ears.

Then you nodded.

Because what else could you do… when the man you loved was building the walls faster than you could find the door?

Taglist: @atieredcart

[rinis-rift]

For the follower event, can I get a sketch/surrealism req of Jinu and Revolving Door by Tate Mcrae? I cant send a link to it cause I'm an anon but I'm thinking of this one Rujinu edit with that song (if you havent seen it, search up "Revolving Door-Rujinu",(they even made a mashup of it with Free and everything, its the best edit I've ever seen) and I'm basically asking for something like that, how the reader just cant stop coming back to him (like a revolving door) despite knowing they shouldnt, how they have to be on stage but cant stop thinking of him, that kind of angst, and the reader can be gn, thank you!

Revolving Door

ꕥ Surrealism Sketch Request!

Gn!Reader x Jinu (angst hcs)

extra: ok anon, the song felt familiar, and it turns out you're talking about the peak edit of rumi holy shitttt- i didn't find the mashup of free, but i think ik what you're saying+ admittedly, i've never written headcannons properly before so i am so sorry if this isn't in the format you expected!

you guys all have phenomenal taste, like i haven't found a single bad or skippable or not iconic song, you guys are fucking awesome

100 Follower's Event

You don’t know what it is about him that draws you in every time.

Every wasted night that you could’ve been practicing for shows and performances, helping your bandmates produce good songs, you simply rather not. After the first night, it becomes a bad habit.

Meeting him becomes a bad habit.

He is the bad habit.

Everytime under the blue tinted moon, you’d steal kisses that you know you can’t take back, that don’t belong to you. They shouldn’t. 

But Jinu’s eyes never fail to draw you in, how his hands would hold you when you both met again, he’d whisper sickeningly sweet promises of keeping you in his arms. You always drank his words in like nectar, like if you listened to him enough, his words would become reality.

Because that’s just how much he managed to make you feel enamoured of him. 

Under tinted lights how you’d hold each other like vices, like koalas with attachment issues. Hiding in secluded and hidden corners of the city, you’d be huddled in embraces of love.

He’d buy you gifts every time you met, it was things that could be disposed of easily or hidden quickly, so no one would find out. Because that’s what these meetups were: hidden and quick. That’s how the both of you treated it.

You knew you couldn’t keep it, the media, the fans, your own bandmates would never allow you to pursue him in the ways you imagine you would. Every dreamlike encounter would cut off with the awakening back to reality whenever he left it.

It was addicting. Your life feels worse but it gets better with him in it.

But then you couldn't shrug off the feeling of his warm words and his even warmer body, at first you tried to push it off. But it felt like as your important performance came closer, you couldn’t survive a rehearsal without the image of him popping up in your mind.

Life felt like it was derailing- like it was getting worse.

Fan events, signings, sound checks, dance practices, simply standing in your damn shower- the world could end and your ears would ring into your head with his laughter like a death call.

Speaking of calls, you thought that if you just stopped reaching out first, you’d become an adult and grow out of this teen-like obsession with Jinu. Yet, it takes one call from him to undial that call of defiance that rose inside of you. Pathetic. But that's what you were, for him. You hated it.

You tell yourself that you’re so desperate to get out, you turn away from the Saja Boy's ads, slept earlier, spent more time on your phone, locked yourself out of his contacts, you stood up straighter around others that you think could get you away from this fantasy boyfriend that was named Jinu. 

But alas, the moment you’d get a message from the doomed man, maybe an hour would pass before you’d stand there, in front of him, a doomed and desperate lover. Desperate for his love. 

Did Jinu genuinely love you? Of course, every gift, kiss, peck, hug, make out session- it was jam packed with whatever love he had left inside of him. Using up every affection method he knew to win you over. 

You were the one person he felt like he could have to himself, even if the world was set up to stop that from happening- it didn’t faze him as much as it should’ve. He kept calling, kept yearning, loving, kissing, longing for you. 

When Gwi-Ma would scratch his nails on chalkboard in his ears, telling him it’s a waste, that you would be without a soul sooner or later, for once in his centuries, does Jinu ignore his warning, maybe not ignore- but do his best to just agree and turn his back on the king.

It’s the week of the idol awards, and you know that Jinu never fails to trip you up, and tonight was no exception, he takes you out to Busan.

That fucker made your night one you could never forget. Reverent touches and high end dates, smothered with his characteristic affection for you, you could feel your heart and head screaming from minute one, but you grimaced silently when you felt them die out at the sounds of Jinu’s charming words.

Ever since that night, your head was messing with you. Screaming the promises he made, his red flag waving dismissal at you in public, ghosts of his voice and touch would make you shiver.

Your choice between your heart and mind changes that you can no longer find it- find what you seriously, actually wanted.

And it’s all you could think about the day of the awards show. It's stupid, it’s belittling, it makes you feel so vulnerable under his gaze everytime you two would cross paths. Jinu was so much less reluctant than you, but maybe that was because he knew what he was going to have to do- you didn’t.

You stood behind the big stage, millions of people from different fan bases of groups that were going to perform tonight, in your undeniably flawless and beautiful stage fit, you stood there.

Your members shuffled past you, the crowds shot up with uproar at the sight of your group, yet you never left the shadows. Shadows alike the ones you hid in with the leader of the Saja Boys with, it was sickeningly dependent on you to delay your appearance on stage. 

All just because you wanted to steal another kiss. 

“You’re supposed to be on stage [Name]ー”

“Fuck it, I’m gonna need a minute.”

hope you enjoyed it! sorry if it wasn't what you wanted, I tried my best

[softantlers]

chapter 3: berserker

"What's that sound?" Nat was driving one-handed, free hand gripping into her own neck as the Jeep's windshield wipers sloshed a whining medley. She didn't look at Lottie when she sighed, "Soccer balls. Got loose when I grabbed the water." "Like… Plural?" Lottie managed, unsure why she was even trying to tease. She supposed it was a distraction from how awful her dress and cardigan felt: so crusty with the doe that she could barely move without feeling claustrophobic. "I coach soccer," Nat replied as she took a turn off the backroad and entered a neighborhood of scattered ranch houses. "Wiskayok High. Go Yellowjackets." A near comical clatter from the trunk punctuated her deadpan delivery. "Wait, really? I played soccer in high school." This prompted a glance, and Lottie noticed Nat loosen the grip on her neck. There were tiny crescents from where she had been digging in her fingernails. The marks reminded Lottie that Nat's heartbeat was still there underneath it all. And her pulse was… Pleasant. Not as drowning or beckoning as before, but more like… When you took your headphones out, and the music drifted up from your hands, muted and mellow. "Same... Where? What position?" Nat was asking, and the questions stirred Lottie from her thoughts. Are we making small talk? The concept was patently absurd after all that had happened. But all the same, Lottie found herself desperate for the normalcy: "Red Bank Regional. Center back." At this, Nat snorted, and it occurred to Lottie that Wiskayok High was a Title I school. Red Bank was… decidedly not that. As a flush of something—not quite shame—trilled through Lottie, Nat said, "Noted. I was a winger." Now, it was Lottie's turn to snort, and she bit back a grin when Nat blinked at the sound. "Class of '18?" Lottie asked. "Actually? Yeah. But hold up. Did you just laugh at me?"

Lottie shrugged. "You have winger energy." There was a pause as Nat pulled them down a cracked and groaning street that led up a hill. Rain was battering the Jeep and pooling into muck on the sides of the road. But Nat drove confidently. She clearly knew where she was going because Lottie couldn't see shit out the windshield. When they crested the hill, Nat asked, "Well, what the fuck does that mean?" "If we're both class of '18, we definitely played each other." "You're dodging my question." Lottie actually laughed before immediately sobering when she saw Nat flinch and grip the wheel with both hands. The void in Lottie's chest ached a little, and her voice grew quiet, "Wingers are loners on the side-field. Sometimes they're a bit reckless…" A tense silence stretched between them as Nat tightened her jaw. Not immediately answering, she leaned forward to glance around Lottie and apparently found what she was looking for. With a twist of the wheel, she pulled them off the street and into a smooth driveway before shifting to park. The windshield was a blur despite the wipers, but Lottie could make out the shape of a modest house with the porchlight on. "Hey." Nat's voice tugged Lottie's attention away from the house, and then she found herself shivering as she stared into the other woman's eyes. Nat's eyeliner was smudged from the rain, and her gaze was cold. She told Lottie simply, "You don't know shit about me."

Hello and greetings! I'm trying something new with this fic, and I will be approaching it as interactive (sort of) fiction. What that means is "tomorrow is gone" won't be a plotted out story. Instead, we're going to explore a universe (more on that in a sec), and you (the reader) can send me writing prompts associated with the world we're building together. For this fic, the universe is: Nat's a vampire hunter, and Lottie is a newly turned vampire... Nat doesn't have the heart to kill Lottie (who, if she's honest, vaguely reminds her of a puppy). So! Her bright idea is to keep Lottie hidden in her apartment and teach her how to be a good..? vampire..? (And also try to keep Lottie safe from fellow vampire hunters Tai & Van…) Meanwhile, Mari, a local witch who owes Nat big, manages to become Lottie's part-time babysitter… Yeah, nothing could go wrong! Feel free to send writing prompts to my ask. <33

[sillygoofyqueer]

Okay I've also got asks to answer but I've got work experience this week so my available schedule is fucked up and posting time is cut down a lot. So if you have sent me an ask recently (or decide to send me an ask during the week), it WILL be answered I promise, just mayhaps not right away. With that out of the way, MORE KPDH x MXTX AU!

I know I said I was going to focus on wangxian but I've been gripped with the need to give you a whistle stop tour of Shen Yuan (+ Shang Qinghua's) and Xie Lian's backstories! Starting with Shen Yuan; so, obviously, he's from the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, and he was raised there from a young age - some children are raised in the sect, others are found. However, he wasn't the one that caught the interest of the scouts of CQMS - that would be his twin brother, Shen Jiu. Yes yes, there's messy messy qijiu to be found in here somewhere, but we have NO TIME for it. Shen Jiu refused to go anywhere without his twin brother, who was dealing with a severe illness, and the scout was like "uuggghhh, there's no time to argue" because there was a deficit of gifted children hanging around on the streets. So, Shen Yuan and Shen Jiu went along to CQMS, and Shen Jiu began his training while Shen Yuan was put through rigorous treatments designed to make him better; these treatments required a level of cultivation, so he was also trained in cultivation (a more gentle version that wouldn't affect his delicate health).

Shen Jiu was only cultivating for his didi's sake, and he was only staying for his didi's sake, because didi was loving learning about the different kinds of demons, and he had made a friend too. However, Shen Yuan eventually found out that Shen Jiu didn't really care about cultivating, and felt bad for gege because he was doing all of this for him! So, he proposed an idea to Shen Jiu. Teach him what he knew, and then Shen Yuan could take his place sometimes! Like a twin swap, y'see? Shen Jiu was reluctant at first, but he saw how excited Shen Yuan was about his idea (outside of researching and basically becoming the resident expert on demons) and caved to his didi's whims. So, they started swapping sometimes - of course, they had to learn each other's mannerisms n such to be able to pull it off, and there were a few people they couldn't fool (ones that would never tell on them), but they managed to pull it off pretty well aside from that. Something something, they were eventually found out, but instead of being mad, their mentor (previous Qing Jing peak lord) was pleased because they had two cultivators/experts for the price of one!

Shang Qinghua was Shen Yuan's friend right from the start. He had been sent over by a less-than-influential family that was in the know about demon hunters, along with his gege - I can't think of a name right now, but just know it's OG Shang Qinghua (OG for short lmfao). While his gege clawed his way through cultivation until he was somewhat respected and powerful despite their lower status in the sect, Shang Qinghua was much more interested in the management side of things. Leave him alone, no harsh missions where he almost died for him, pretty please! While his mentor didn't really care if Shang Qinghua didn't care, his gege certainly fucking did, and personally taught him because he knew all of his didi's tricks to try and escape learning about such things. This wasn't faaaaiiirrrr! He took solace in hiding in Shen Yuan's medical room at first, then later his actual room when they decided that he was alright enough to be free from the infirmary. Shen Yuan wanted a friend, Shang Qinghua was willing to be a friend, and when Shen Yuan was caught out for switching with Shen Jiu, Shang Qinghua was immediately shoved into the group by Gege, who really wanted him to get out more.

Xie Lian's story took place a long, long time ago. While not the original demon hunter, he was trained by one of them, alongside his closest companions, Feng Xin and Mu Qing. He was specially picked out as though by fate itself, chosen by the gods to become the next blessed warrior fighting against the demons, and he took his companions along with him. Mei Nianqing didn't really talk about his original group, only telling tales of the Demon Hunter of Wuyong, who had tried to push himself to save humanity only to break under the pressure and become Bai Wuxiang, the ruler of demons. Honestly, he definitely should have; maybe if they had known what had happened to the original demon hunter group, Xie Lian wouldn't have been so easily drawn in by another mentor. Jun Wu appeared in his dreams, offering him tips and tricks for his cultivation, ones that he shared to his friends with excitement - all the man in his dreams said was that he shouldn't tell Mei Nianqing about such things. Xie Lian was naïve, easy to manipulate because he just saw the best in everyone, unaware of the horrors that resided within the world; Mei Nianqing had failed him in that aspect, had failed he and his friends.

Xie Lian and his friends flourished under the guiding hands of Mei Nianqing (and, secretly, Jun Wu), which was why Mei Nianqing was so willing to let them face off against Bai Wuxiang when he ripped through the Honmoon. There was so much fighting, so many human lives lost and, in Xie Lian's dreams, Jun Wu urged him to excel quicker, to focus on his cultivation so he could 'properly protect humanity', but he wouldn't turn his back on them when they needed him the most. Unlike the Demon Hunter of Wuyong, he took time to save every single human from demons, even a young boy that everyone hailed as cursed and bound to the demons by fate. He didn't care what they all believed, he did not see the boy's future, he only saw the frightened little kid who needed protection from demons that wished to feast upon his 'tainted' soul. They managed to beat back Bai Wuxiang and reform the Honmoon, but that was not when it ended for Xie Lian. Rumours started echoing through the crowds, rumours that he sympathised with demons, and did not kill them if he did not see them as a threat. It's not like they were wrong, but people didn't like to hear such things about their protectors.

SO much more happens in this time, but I just need to quickly explain that I think the demon hunters could probably ascend (in this AU) due to the worship from the ordinary humans and with cultivation levels. To summarise what happens because there's so much I want to say and it's OVERWHELMING - Xie Lian's group breaks down because of these beliefs and, while one cannot be descended once they Ascend, Xie Lian's followers stopped believing in him and left him to rot through the centuries. Xie Lian goes through shit, almost becomes a demon but pulls himself back from the brink basically out of spite of Bai Wuxiang, going off the grid to hide from his friends and any other ascended gods. There is only one god that he befriends, and that's because this god (Shi Qingxuan) doesn't know who he is (his well-known name at the time was Dianxia), so there's no issue of his existence getting back to anyone else. Jun Wu occasionally appears in his dreams to try and ask where he is, but Xie Lian doesn't want to get him in trouble, so he doesn't ever tell him. Centuries pass, and he finds himself in a new boyband after helping a few demon hunters deal with a few vicious demons.

[clumsypuppy]

ive made myself more wet and pathetic