#Mr Lee why do you stand like that?
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afrophunk · 8 months ago
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Was watching Game of Death the other day. Bruce Lee’s character is so funny and sassy(at least in the unreleased scenes), I just had to put my guy in this iconic pose to show my gratitude
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He’s so right to do this for me specifically actually
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teeskzagain · 1 month ago
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˚‧‿₊୨୧₊You're Such A Brat₊ ˚‧୧₊︵‧ ˚ ₊
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» pairing: arrogant!sunghoon x bratty!reader
» summary: since high school, park sunghoon has been the absolute bane of your existence. you’ve always viewed him as a stuck-up snob, and he has always seen you as a whiny brat. you aren’t sure why your mother still thinks of you two as friends, you can hardly stand being in the same room as each other. while at home from college one night, your mother surprises you with news of a work event she and mrs. park will be attending. the catcher? mrs. park’s nightmare of a son is going to be forced to spend the evening at your house…..
» warnings: college au, lots of arguments (both are toxic af), lowkey manipulative on both ends?? t e n s i o n, one scene depicting choking, unprotected sex (WRAP IT UP), extremely rough sex, enemies….to…?, lil unserious in the beginning, reader and sunghoon genuinely detest one another (but isn’t that the best😫) mean!dom sunghoon, bratty!sub y/n, oral sex (f. & m. receiving), degrading kink, teasing, heavy/aggressive make-outs, breasts play, masturbation (f. - reader masturbates to fake scenario), humiliation kink, dirty talk, reader used to be affiliated with p.sh, orgasm denial + fingering, ass + pussy slapping, slight mentions of lee heeseung & sim jake...
» w.c: 11.5k (no wonder why it took forever!)
» a/n: would like to apologize for the delay!! but, it's finally here. please let me know if i should do more enha works.
» taglist: @indigoez @jakeswifez @aanniikkaa @slut4hee @heeknow @rairaiblog-blog @no1likeneo @d-dilemma @soobingf-blog @shuaxzcake @mingyuslice @heelovesmeknot @mitmit01 @hpnsfwaddict @jooniesbears-blog @pasteltheghost16 @goodforgyu @sunghoonsbigcoketip
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"Why do you have to leave?" With a droopy face, you annoyingly complain- yet again -to your mom about her rude decision of abandoning you.
She rolls eyes- yet again -at your antics and continues to put up the last bits of groceries, "It's a simple work event, Y/N. I'm not sure why you're being so stubborn right now. Plus, you used to love when Sunghoon and his mother came over."
You shudder at the mere mention of his name, "That was before he became such a stuck up fucking prick-"
That line earns yourself a disapproving, 'Y/N!' and in turn you retract your statement with a couple of half-assed, 'sorry, sorry'.
Though, in your head, you knew you held back from saying worse things.
Your mother sighs deeply as she finishes shoving the last few items into the fridge before spinning around to face you, "I'm not asking a lot from you, just entertain the boy or something while we're out. Is that really too difficult?"
She lets her question hang in the air for a second, then proceeds to move from the kitchen to the living room. However, if she thought she could escape you, she would be dead wrong. Because you're not far from her in step.
"Okay, new question." You propose which earns another groan from Mom. You stop in place when she leans over to dust the couch off with her hands, " Since you and Mrs. Park are carpooling to the event, I understand why she's coming here. But does he really have to come too? Why can't he just stay at his own damn-.....d-dang, house?"
When she straightens herself out, she bears a look of plead in hopes that this is truly the last of your inquiries, "His mother is the one who suggested it. And if we're being truthful, you and Sunghoon used to be so......" she pauses, looking for the right word, "....so cute when the two of you were close."
A hand flies to your mouth as you internally gag at your mother's words. Cute? Maybe 10 years ago, when you both were still in elementary. But that was before he had the chance to grow into his unbearably horrid of a personality.
Granted, you partly blamed his high school friend group for his abominable transformation. While, yes, you did agree that Sunghoon just naturally held the asshole gene, you were also certain that hanging around and slinging dicks with stupid Sim Jake and stupid Lee Heeseung, surely wasn't going to help this fact either.
Disgusting pricks. All of them.
You lower your hand slowly, "Please don't remind me of that time."
"For the love of-" She excuses herself from your vicinity and struts back into the kitchen, "Honey, I don't understand how you could be acting like this. I thought once you two went off to university together, things would be different by this point."
Oh. It's different alright.
Instead of the harsher stares he used to simply give in high school, Sunghoon has upgraded his abrasiveness to terrible comments directed towards your character. Any chance possible, the two of you would butt heads even more than your previous encounters. On campus, in passing, at parties; if you saw him anywhere, you just knew something would be said.
On top of that, it also doesn't help that his buffoon bunch of friends followed him to the same college as you. And, you had to see them everywhere.
You figured once you came home, you could enjoy a week of internal peace. Free from the many stressors that come with university. Now, your mother seems to disregard any of your warnings and wants to let the main stressor inside of your house?
"Can I add as well," she speaks up in the absence of your voice- you had been too busy pouting- "I know the two of you share the same English class, and according to his mother, he's been excelling at his papers."
At the insinuation, your mouth drops agape, however, she disregards the reaction and continues on, "You can ask for some pointers from him."
"Absolutely not." There was no way that could've been an option. Firstly, you would never hear the end of it from Sunghoon: ‘Oh, you want help from me? I didn’t realize you were so awful at this,’ and then it probably would’ve been followed up with, ‘Well, I can’t say I’m too surprised. You’re not the…brightest person I’ve met.’
Annoying bastard.
He would never let you live that down, and frankly, you didn't want to give him anymore ammo to shoot you in the face with. Henceforth, that couldn’t be an option. Not if you wanted to keep your sanity.
Your mother regards you intently, and slowly begins to shake her head. She couldn't do it anymore, didn't know what more to say; a wall has clearly been put up and you are as strong as steel, not letting anything through. As she's left puzzled on how to refute your statement, a ping from her phone catches her eye briefly.
She casts her gaze downwards, keeps it there for a few seconds, and then she's looking back up at your contorted face.
"Well, sweetie,” a strained smile begins to spread, “You should probably fix that attitude of yours. They just got here." The doorbell ringing acts as a nail in the coffin, confirming your mother's words.
“You’ve got to be-”
She interrupts your complaining to tell you to get the door, so she can run upstairs and grab her purse. You're quick to bellow out a groan, but she's even quicker to shut that down, and instructs you to do it immediately while half-way up the staircase.
Once she disappears, you amble sluggishly towards the front, and as you're about ready to swing it open; a long, harsh breath is exhaled from the other side followed by a grumble.
"You better be nice to her or I swear Sunghoon...."
It's Mrs. Park, who's voice seemed to have a combination of both sincerity and aggression laced in it. Your eyebrows furrow, listening harder.
"Yeah, yeah. Be nice to the brat, I heard you the first 4 other times." He finishes with his own irritated huff.
Your expression goes wide at that. Is he fucking serious? Did he really just call you a brat? You. A brat? You're mind relishes in disbelief.
"Sunghoon!" His mother responds with, and more indistinct talking arose. However, while their voices grew quieter your annoyed levels skyrocketed. You begin to think that it's quite plausible….someone might die tonight.
"Y/N! Did you grab the door yet?" Your mom yells from her bedroom.
You do a double-take as you match her volume, "I'm doing it right now!"
Unbolting the locks, you pull back the piece of wood to reveal a very eager Mrs. Park, staring at you with smiley eyes. Sweeping your gaze right, there stood the ever straight-faced and stoic Park Sunghoon.
Even as you do a once over at his appearance- black hair fringed on his forehead, hands shoved into his long, sleek coat, and black sweats that barely poke out from underneath -you find it so, incredibly jarring that this came out of the always cheery Mrs. Park.
He didn't even try to smile, unlike you who beamed out a grin towards them, "Hello Mrs. Park! It's been so long since I last seen you.”
Dissimilar to her son, Mrs. Park is ready to envelope you into a warm hug. She extends her arms out and the two of you intertwine in a genuine and comforting embrace.
"Oh! Y/N! It truly has been a while," when she draws back, you watch her scan your face with an affectionate smile, "You just get more and more beautiful every time I see you." At the last second, she peeps over towards her son for encouragement, "Right, Hoonie? Doesn't she look lovely?"
His impassive eyes regard his mother, then ever so leisurely does he drag them onto your stature. The moment eye contact is made, you shift anxiously. Because why the hell is he looking at you like that?
You start to play with the hem of your oversized hoodie, which flowed nicely into your oversized sweatpants. Anyone with eyes could tell you’re not dressed for company. Hair messy from laying around, hardly any make-up on.
Clearly, you weren’t expecting anyone today. Nonetheless, someone who took so much pride in his appearance. You almost felt jealously from it. Like he’s somehow proving the point that he’s better in almost every way- clothing included. It’s infuriating.
With a single look up and down, Sunghoon cocks his head slightly before giving his answer, "No."
Intense bickering between mother and son start up, and you're left standing with a twitching eye of vexation as already you sense your patience running thin. Your fingers curl inwards to form a fist. It hasn’t even been 30 seconds and you feel like punching him.
"I am so sorry about him, Y/N. I don't- I don't know what his problem is..." She stops midway to address another mumble from the boy. The two have a minor quarrel this time, and then she’s back to focusing on you, ".....ah, may we come in?"
It takes your full strength to squeak out an, 'absolutely', despite your innate feelings. With a step back, you widen the door to appear more welcoming and the two of them step inside of your house.
Mrs. Park instantly calls out to your mother, with her shouting back at Mrs. Park, and when it's Sunghoon's turn to walk past, you couldn't help but notice the somewhat aggressive breeze he emits as he pushes through you.
A part of you could’ve sworn you also heard him mutter something in passing, but regardless, you decide to let that go instead of calling him out. Taking in a deep breath and exhaling, you hope to soothe the ever growing nerves that’s been caused so far.
Remember, self-control. Right, that is a thing and you are more than capable of exhibiting it. So, keep your cool. Try not to blow up. At the very least, if not for yourself, then for the sake of both your mother and Mrs. Park.
Yes, for them. You can do this for them. Just simply don’t engage and all will be well.
You repeat this to yourself a few more times as you close the door. All will be well if you let it be. Now feeling better, you flip around to see your mom make a descent back down into the living room, a purse now dangling from the crevice of her elbow.
She sashays up to Sunghoon’s mother, and the two women squeal in delight as they engulf one another. It’s admirable how much they care for each other, proving why they became such good coworkers then friends. You also find it adorable how similar their outfit choices are, with both of them sporting a dark blue dress.
Once they part, your mother turns her attention over towards the previously brooding boy. Though, you find it interesting how Sunghoon seems to have an easier expression now.
"Sunghoon, you're too tall! How am I supposed to reach you?" She gushes while brining him in for hug. A light chuckle dances out of him, and after a brief second they're pulling back from one another. Mrs. Park jumps in on the conversation about her son.
They begin to go on and on about all of his accomplishments; 'Oh! Sunghoon I heard you're doing excellent in your courses,' and, 'You are so involved with the community, it’s wonderful to see that someone’s trying.’ It’s sickening to see the immediate chokehold he has on the women, you observing the conversation emotionlessly.
After their near 20 minute rant (or what felt like it) finally your mother remembers your presence and decides to rope you in. She ushers you to come closer, and after a hasty back and forth, you scoot only mere inches into the circle, closer to him.
"You've been scoring well on your essays, Sunghoon, isn't that right?" Your mom starts and you want to scream right then and there.
He affirms her question with a swift nod, "Yes. I have."
"I don't think he's gotten below a 91 on his papers." Mrs. Park chimes in, and you secretly curse your mother for where this topic is about to go.
Your mom's eyes brighten as she looks over to Sunghoon, "That's amazing to hear. Actually, I think Y/N could use some tips on a few of her past works. She's been getting marked off on nearly every single one of them and could use the help!"
He hums in amusement, raking his eyes until they rest on your scowl. You feel his stare on you as you cross your arms and side step away from him, "Was that necessary to bring up?”
"Oh," your mother waves a dismissive hand, "Nonsense, sweetie. I'm sure a few pointers from this one will help raise that C- you have."
"Mom!"
Before you could object any further, a gasp leaves Mrs. Park's mouth and quickly she’s pulling your mother off to the side. She just remembered some news from work. While the two women chat, you’re left to stand idly, eyes darting off to the side while a wave of quietness engulfs the air. Sunghoon remains silent, as well.
You sure as hell hadn’t planned on talking to him and if that meant silence would be bestowed, then so be it. It’s for the better, anyways. You’re trying a new approach at things, and if you're forced to converse with him, you’re afraid it’ll lead to someone getting choked out. Not you, by the way. So…to avoid conflict, silence it is.
A short sigh from Sunghoon interrupts your thinking. You do a quick glance up at the..irritatingly tall boy, and see his gaze is turned all the way left, side-profile on display for you. He must’ve picked up on your hostility, which is why he has not said anything, you believe. Good. He should know better than to get you riled-
“You have a C- in that class? Are you serious?”
Perplexed, you raise your eyebrows from the sudden outburst, “Excuse me?”
Is he really trying to start this right now?
He keeps his head faced away from you, then at the last second he twists it back and you see a new expression dawns on him. That of complete arrogance, “English Literature is a stupid easy class. I’m surprised to hear you’re doing poorly.”
As you open your mouth to shut up him, he proceeds further with his berating, “Then again,” he lets out a dry laugh, “I guess I shouldn’t be so shocked that you need me. You’ve always fell short when it came to academics.”
Sunghoon watches your face morph into pure anger, and as sick as it may be for him to admit it, this is where he finds true enjoyment. In the reactions you always give in the moments you feel wronged.
You do a short shuffle as you feel yourself releasing the chains of self-control. You knew he would act this way. He always does.
“Okay, so I’m not doing well,” you state matter-of-factly, “So. Fucking. What? I’d rather have a shitty grade in this class than beg some snobby prick for aid.”
You tried to hold back.
At the sudden drop of name calling, a bitter grin erupts onto his lips, “Like you deserve my help.”
“For the record, I never asked for it,” you throw a hand up as new found confidence starts to build up in your core, “But trust me. If I really needed you, then I would make you fucking help me.”
His eyes widen from your accusation, “You really think I would tend to you? Knowing your unruly attitude?” Disbelief switches onto his face, his thick eyebrows creasing together uncomfortably, “God. You’re such a brat.”
And just like that, you hit a snapping point. Without wasting another second, you begin to hurl every insult in the book his way, your rage boiling past whatever containment you thought you had. He’s ready to argue back at you when a light shriek stops both of you mid sentence.
"Oh, we need to get a move on it. I didn’t even realize the time. It’s about to be 7.” Your mother comments and you almost retort it with a snide remark on how inquisitive she's been about Sunghoon's life.
Mrs. Park trots her way towards the door, saying her final goodbye to her son along the way. Your mother shares her own words of departure, though it's mixed with your protest on her leaving.
"Alright kiddos, we'll try not to be too long." She speaks with one foot out the door, "Y/N, please treat our guest kindly."
You give the boy, who's now walked up and standing to the side of you, a deathly glower, "Get him the fu-"
"Y/N. Kindly, please." She reiterates with a sweet bite, and to that you could only sigh defeatedly.
Mrs. Park is not far behind your mother as she twists to address Sunghoon one last time, "Honey, please be-"
"Be nice, I know." He finishes in a sort of annoyed tone. Though after that, being nice is the last thing she would need to worry about.
With more reassurance, the two women give each other a passing glance, and soon after another round of goodbyes, the door closes shut.
Leaving you trapped here with your absolute nightmare.
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With a deep groan, you stagnantly turn towards Sunghoon just as he’s twisting his body to reluctantly face you. Peering up through your eyelashes, you make absolutely sure he feels the unwelcomed signals radiating off of you as you go to speak.
"Stay the fuck away from me."
His eyes roll nearly out of their sockets as he starts to slip off his coat, "What happened to being kind to your guests?"
He mocks the words that were handed to you, and your eyes narrow while watching him hang the jacket on a nearby rack.
You notice his shirt of choice- now on display -is a tight black T-Shirt, curving and outlining all of the spots you hate the most about him. God, you think you just got even more annoyed.
Turning your nose upwards, you start to inch closer towards the staircase, "I couldn't care less about that, if I'm being completely honest." You do a full twirl so all Sunghoon can see is your back, "Here’s what you can do: either entertain yourself in the living room or get the fuck out. Choose whatever you want as long as it doesn’t involve me.”
He goes tight-lipped. You are just the epitome of an ungrateful little brat, holy fuck. Sunghoon shoots his vision away with a brief head shake. Despite his growing emotions, he knows it will be better to not engage. He really didn’t feel like fighting with you right now. Like how you both always manage to do.
Clearing his throat, Sunghoon begins to walk slowly towards the couch, his upper muscles flexing with every step, "Whatever. I'm not dealing with you tonight."
That makes you halt in your tracks. Dealing with you? What? Like you're some untrained puppy?
"No, I'm not dealing with you tonight,” you sneer back then scoff, retreating upstairs once again, “Just fucking stay down here and we won’t have any more problems.”
His back hits the couch cushion with a flop as he starts to call out to you, “Right. It’s not like the problem isn't taking itself upstairs at the moment!"
Oh, that touched a nerve. So much so that you find yourself shouting from the second story, having made it up there a few seconds prior, “You should’ve just stayed at your own fucking house!”
"Do you ever stop fucking talking?” He raises his voice back at you; maybe not quite to the extent of your screaming, but nonetheless you could hear him from upstairs.
Upon entering your room, you slam the door shut with all your might. You swear you even felt the floor shake from the force. Pissed doesn’t even begin to describe your emotions currently. You’re at a whole new level.
You're fuming. Chest huffing, fists clenched, ooh- you've never met someone who irked as badly as fucking Park Sunghoon had.
Why? Why? Why did he have to be in your home right now? Why did your mother think this was a good idea? And why did he have to look so nice with his stupid shirt and black joggers?
You begin to pace around your room.
He's messing with you, clouding your head with complex thoughts. If there's one thing you loathed most about the boy downstairs it's his ability to turn your brain to mush.
It's like all thoughts and rationality fly out of the window, and instead is replaced with....just nothing. Nothing but anger, resentment, and a tiny bit of something else however you're willing to suppress that for the time being.
You bring a thumb up to stroke your lip. Mind racing, your brain starts to piece together what you should do to alleviate this stress. You're going crazy, you recognized that, and you’re certain a distraction is needed for you to get your thoughts cleared.
As you think back to all that has you feeling so jumbled, a sudden surge runs throughout your core. No. You know what your body is attempting to do. And it’s not going to work. Even as another hits you and makes your thighs clench unwillingly, you hold on to your determination.
You can’t do it, you tell yourself. Especially when Sunghoon’s downstairs. It’s ridiculous. Unfathomable. There is no way you would…..
Moments later, you find yourself completely and utterly naked in your bed, deciding the best way to calm down is by having a….release. Your pulses started became too unbearable to ignore, leaving you with only one option. This option.
Is it the most convenient method of stress relieving? Well, probably not. But, truly, in times where you’re free to strip bare and dish out a quickie, you always find it leaves your mind feeling blissful.
And you desperately need that right now, because in all honesty, you aren’t sure what the hell you’re feeling right now due to Sunghoon.
As your brain is beginning to wonder, you absentmindedly brush the backs of your fingers against your lower stomach. Park Sunghoon. The name is like poison in your head, and you can’t find the damn cure for some reason.
Your hand drops a little lower. Thinking back on your most recent argument, you remember the eye contact you two held, before forcing yourself to break free from his gaze. You tilt your head, the memory becoming even more clear. That damn gaze.
…..if only he could use it from a different angle.
A sharp exhale flies out of your mouth as you realize you’ve made contact with your clit. You’re lighting swarming around the area while it continues to throb enticingly. A different angle? Like….one where he’s in between your legs, staring at you with those stupid fucking know-it-all eyes.
Your body responds well to that imagination, your hips slightly bucking into your hand to garner some friction. Would you two be on the bed? No, you think you like the idea of getting him on his damn knees and making him eat you out nice and slowly while on floor…a whole lot better.
He’d tried to take control, you already know his arrogant ass would. Yet, in reality, you will be the one calling the shots. If he starts to suck a little too much for your likings, one hair tug and he’ll slow down. Cause he’ll listen to you, you’ll make sure of it.
A small smile cracks out onto your face, focusing deeply on your sprouting pleasure. Yeah, you like the Park Sunghoon in your imagination a lot better than the one real life. Your fingers are now circling the bud, producing ripples of sensation that keeps your movements and thoughts going.
He’ll keep his attention fixed on you the whole time he’s devouring you, you assume. Because if there’s one thing about Sunghoon, he’ll love to see you come undone at the cause of him. Would love to see that sexy ass face you make right before you orgasm.
And the way your thighs will squeeze around his cheeks so perfectly, oh fuck him. He’d get so fucking horny from just tasting your sweet, sweet pussy.
Shutting your eyes, your vision explodes with images of your lewd thoughts, playing out your ideal fantasy. You can hear yourself start to whimper while your pelvis becomes more sporadic in the way it chases the coming feeling.
At the minute you tell him you’re close, he’d latch onto your clit, no plan on stopping. Scratch that, he probably couldn’t stop himself from finishing you out. You’ve been treating him so well up until this point. Letting him cum inside you, in your mouth; the least he could do is give you a head-splitting orgasm.
You rub your soaking cunt all over the palm of your hand, desperation coursing through your veins. Imagine annoying little Sunghoon, who’s only wish is for you to cum. To cum all over his face, down his own throat. He’s on his knees below you because he wants the full effect of seeing how much you’re letting yourself go from his tongue.
Then, with one long sucking motion, you’d fall apart. With your orgasm hitting you dead on your clit, you’d start to quiver on top of him while screaming out, ‘So fucking good, So fucking good. Fuck, you’re making me cum.’
Your hand speeds up to have you cumming alongside your scenario, your own real orgasm washing over you deliciously. It leaves your body stuttering and eyes rolling back into your head as you continue to work at your pussy during the duration. And all you could think about was how much you fucking hated stupid Park Sunghoon.
Once your high comes down, you firstly lay in your bed to recover. That had to have been one of your best and strongest impromptu session. Fuck, did you enjoy every part of it.
True to nature, as well, your mind is so foggy from the haze that you can’t even recall your earlier fury, which is now replaced with a more simple feeling: lust. You bask in the warmness that’s spreading and also give your cunt a chance to get desensitized, before swinging your legs off of the bed and walking over to your dresser.
It was starting to get hot with your thick layers on anyways, which is why you opt for thinner clothes. You pull out a pair of cotton shorts that stop upper thigh on you, and then a cropped T-shirt for simple comfort.
Needing to wash your hands quickly, you swiftly run into the connected bathroom to your room, lather your hands in soap and soon you’re rinsing yourself off. When finished with that, you smile contently as you walk back to your bedroom and flop down stomach first onto the mattress.
You really did feel better. Your anger has subsided by now, the orgasm keeps your mind still a bit dizzy, there were no complaints to be had. Now, you planned on spending the rest of your evening locked up in here so you can continue feeling as such. Boom, simple as that.
A loud buzz from your phone on the nightstand has you scrambling to reach it, that giddy feeling not once leaving. Though, once you flip it over to reveal a text from your mother, you feel your smile drop immediately.
8:09 PM
Mom:
Hey sweetie, just wanted to do a quick check-in on the two of you. I hope everything's going okay.
You begin to type out a borderline aggressive message back, something along the lines of how everything was not going okay, but another message swooshes in before you could even finish your own.
After doing some rethinking, you don’t need to ask Sunghoonie for help anymore. It wasn’t fair of me to put you in that position without asking you first. You’re old enough to make your own decisions now, and if you think you’ll be okay without asking him for help, then you can decide that. I’m sorry for making you feel as if you never had a choice.
You stop your rant midway, and look closer at the message. Oh. Oh. Oh….
“Mom…” With a frown, you watch as yet another message flies across your screen, and you find that you’re a bit more accepting of this one.
8:14 PM
Mom:
But, I do want to make sure that you are trying with Sunghoon. I understand as of right now, it may be difficult to do so, you two are apparently quite hostile. However, I’m asking if you can extend the white flag, at least for tonight. Make sure he’s not hungry, maybe you two can put on a movie downstairs. Just try and be cordial, that’s my only request. Can you do that?
Stomach churning, you begin to gnaw on your bottom lip right now, those complex emotions rising up again. Dammit. You seriously thought nothing more would come out of this situation tonight. You thought once you had your….release, you would be able to relax freely without any stressors.
But then you reread her latest text, and guilt surfaces in your heart. Maybe…you haven’t been putting in as much effort as you could have; you did just leave the boy downstairs to fend for himself. Is it possible for you to set your very, very strong feelings and just…suck it up for the sake of your mother?
You were accepting of this feat earlier.
A quick scroll up has you revisiting the first large paragraph she sent you, the one that acknowledges your feelings. Your mother is trying right now, and you register that it would be unfair of you to not try as well.
8:20 PM
Y/N:
okay mom, i can do that for you.
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You're downstairs before you know it. After many, many, many mental preparations, you now feel ready to be within the same space as the devi- Park Sunghoon.
Approaching your living room, the pale yellow lighting illuminates Sunghoon's backside, giving you a clear view of him. With one defined arm stretched out on top of the cushion, Sunghoon seems entranced with the movie playing on T.V, not appearing to have noticed your presence.
You shuffle your feet against the floor until you slow to a halt. In the span of your waiting, not once does he turn around. The movie must be drowning out your existence. Pivoting, you opt to round out the couch and stand in the middle for visibility. Sunghoon keeps his eyes trained forward. Surely, he feels your presence now, even if he may not be acknowledge it.
Sticking your hip, you gently clear your throat, "Ahem."
He throws a cruel glare over his shoulder before reverting back to his previous position, no comment to be left from him. You're standing still, okay then...
You dart your eyes away to view something else, then sweep them back over to his body, “Are you…hungry?”
A look of bewilderment dawns on his face as he shoots you a perplexed look, “Why are you asking me that? Wouldn’t you rather have me starve?”
“I-” you try to rebuttal his claim, but incriminatingly you start to avoid eye contact with him, “No. Not necessarily…”
Yeah-fucking-right. He highly doubts that's true. Instead of replying, Sunghoon turns back towards the television. Silence remains. You follow his eyesight to watch a couple of seconds of the movie. Well, so much for trying.
You continue to stand awkwardly, wrapping your arms around your torso and rocking yourself back and forth slightly. Just try. Just try. Just. Try.
"Park Sunghoon." You mumble out and he snaps his attention towards you. If not for your eyes lurching up to look at the ceiling, then maybe you would have noticed the surprise once over he does to your outfit.
“What?”
You look down again, and try to shake the embarrassment that’s clawing at you. Just try, “C-Can I watch this with you?” Holy fuck that felt harder to say.
Sunghoon squints his eyes as he tries really hard to figure out what the hell is your deal. Merely an hour ago, the two of you were having a screaming match, and now you’re fidgeting and asking to be in the same room as him….willingly?
He doesn’t buy that for a second.
He drags his pupils up and down your frame, his greedy eyes wanting to drink in more of it, but at the realization of what he was doing, he forces himself to look away. Willingly? Yeah, no. He figures your mother would be the cause for this. Only reason he says this: his own mom sent a text not too long ago telling him to try harder with you. And…it appears you are at least doing something.
With a rough sigh, Sunghoon decides to not say anything else, but rather signals you to sit down with a single quick head tilt. Your face grimaces at his cave-man like gesture, and although you went slowly about it, you do as he says and take a seat.
You snuggle deeper into the couch cushion, and allow your body to relax. You’re so used to being on guard whenever around Sunghoon, it feels almost natural to stiffen up. Letting yourself relinquish this tension built up in your muscles, you find it easier to keep your cool.
Dropping your arms to your side, you start to focus harder on the movie and less on the boy sitting next to you. Does it slightly freak you out that his fingertips are only centimeters away from your shoulder? Yes. But for the most part, you can sense this is….tolerable. As if for once, you don’t feel like biting Park Sunghoon’s head off.
Minutes turn into over an hour this movie has been on, and both you and Sunghoon have managed to not get into a single argument. You aren’t sure when the last instance of this was. Elementary, maybe? Regardless, you’re at ease.
Your arm is propping your head up as you watch the characters on screen. The movie, though you never asked for its name, was some romantic comedy. You picked up on this fact a few minutes into watching it. And, wow, were they intense on the romance.
You couldn’t even count the amount of make-outs that has happened since you’ve been watching. You almost want to say 8 so far- oh, make it 9 now.
The lead characters are on their 9th kissing scene, stumbling around and fondling one another in the bathroom at some house party. You watch closely, part of your brain now heightened. The male actor is kissing the female until her ass touches the sink, and then he’s hoisting her up so she can sit on the counter.
Your face contorts unpleasantly. The scene further plays out to where the girl is begging the man for sex, desperate to have him inside of her, and you feel your mouth go dry.
This is beginning to hit a little too close to home for your likings, with a dusted memory you swore to bury attempting to resurface. You push the thoughts aways. Not now.
Trying to ignore the random squeeze your legs do, you tell yourself to ignore the familiarities and simply focus on the movie. However, at the moment the man grips the the women’s throat and she moans intensely, you nearly freeze. Yeah, you can’t watch this anymore.
With an airy voice, you keep your eyes fixed on the T.V to seem passive, “Change it to something else.”
“What?” Sunghoon doesn’t glance over to you, also keeping his gaze forward, “Why?”
You scoff lightly. Why can’t he just listen to you? What’s with the interrogation? “You always ask so many questions. Just change it.”
To that he responds with nothing. You’re not giving him a proper response, so why should he listen to you? He remains engrossed in the movie.
When a few notable beats pass, you crane your neck over to his direction with a scrunched faced, “Yah. Did you hear me? I said put on something else.”
He briskly whips his head to meet your eyes, his dark eyes boring harshly, “I don’t care what you have to say. I’m not changing it.”
Fed up with him, you reach over to grab the remote when he obtains it first. You glare menacingly at Sunghoon, while he mocks your expression, then holds the remote high above, taunting you. His slender fingers harboring it only fuels your anger, which grows hotter by the second.
“Don’t piss me off.” You warn with undertones of a threat, as you climb over him to reach for the device. He extends it further away from your grasp.
“Or what?”
Bobbing the remote over your head, he just knew you were going to lose your cool at some point. That’s what all whiny brats do when they never get their way; they throw tantrums.
“Just fucking put on something else!” You scream, fighting him for the remote.
You don’t care if you can feel your shorts start to ride up into your butt, or if your boobs are being shoved up against Sunghoon’s body. You don’t care that you’re basically on top of him, trying to win this remote, because all rationality has exited your head.
You ask him to do one simple thing, and he fucking couldn’t. Then, he wants to tease you and make fun of you? You tried, you think back to your mother’s message, and in your mind the exchange begins to burn. You really fucking tried, but this…arrogant bastard just always makes it so damn hard.
He shakes the little strands of hair away from his face as he narrows his eyes brutally towards your squirmy body, “What the fuck is your deal? You’re telling me your whore ass can’t handle one god damn sex scene?”
This time you don’t say anything back to him, instead your intention remains on getting the fucking remote. He takes your lack of response as an opportunity to dig further at you.
“Really? You’re going to act like that?” He spews out more comments while continuously keeping the control from getting in your reach, “I find it hard to believe you’re freaking out-”
“Damn brat. You’ve been needing this fucking for a long time, haven’t you?”
At the line of dialogue, Sunghoon shifts his attention towards the scene being played out, one of which the girl is now bent over the sink with the man pounding roughly into her backside. And with the combination of the man’s words and the stimulating scene, his eyes widen as he finally realizes what the core problem is.
A wave of deja vu hits him. A few months ago, he had you in a damn near similar position to that on the TV, even saying similar phrasing. The two of you had been drunk off of your minds, resulting in the memory being blocked from his head.
“What the fuck?” He mumbles, letting his guard down, giving you the chance to swoop upwards and snatch the remote away. All scattered-brain, you press the power button and watch as the TV powered down.
“See.” You grit through your teeth, throwing the remote down in the meantime, “I told you. I told your dumbass to fucking change it. But, no. You didn’t want to listen to me.”
His own chest starts to burn with aggression at your words, and he looks over to you angrily, “Will you just shut the fuck up? My god, you’re so annoying.”
“What? Mad because I was right?” You fake a pouty voice, your eyes going all doey while regarding him before swiftly fixing your face, “I never want to think about that night, and here you go, basically parading it in my face. And based off of your reaction, I can tell you hate thinking about it too.”
Sunghoon sits up from off of the couch, and brings his forearms to rest against his knees. That night was full of mistakes. Jake inviting him to that dumb ass party, Heeseung feeding him back to back shots of some sort of alcohol. The kind of of alcohol that forces you to act on thoughts that otherwise would've been suppressed.
The memories all rush back to him. The moment he saw you at the party, laughing and dancing around in that tiny fucking dress. It was like right then and there, his views on you changed. Instead of dismissing your presence, he found himself drawn to it. Instead of ignoring the silhouette of your body, he allowed himself to watch every single part of you.
When throwing all caution to the wind and deciding to walk up to you, he remembers you being equally as wasted as himself. That hadn’t stopped you from throwing an immediate snarl at his approach, however. Although the interaction started with you two bickering, as always- the evening had ended so much differently.
He remembers it all. Moving from the main room to the bathroom, still jabbing insults at each other. How from one second to the next, your dress was now hiked up above your hips. The touching, the teasing, how hard the two of you came. The whole scene plays out in his head, and for some reason, Sunghoon can’t stop it.
You snide in another comment which breaks his thoughts, “Yeah, I guess I’d be mad too if I were you. You basically threw yourself at me and begged to fuck me. It’s pathetic how desperate you were.”
Now, you’re really heated. You rise to your feet in seconds and march over to stand above him, feeling reminiscent of your previous imagination. At the noticeable imbalance, the same satisfaction from earlier mixes with your current anger.
It spreads across your chest as you lour down at him, watching him bring a hand over his mouth, “For a change, you don’t have anything to say, is that why you’re silent? Did I finally get you to shut up?”
At the quietness that lingers in the air, you press further to elicit a greater reaction. Bursting out more and more taunts, you knew this is where you found enjoyment, watching him spiral and be confused by his own thoughts. You’re proud to make him feel just as perplexed as you were the whole night.
You’re ready to throw another insult his way when his tall body shoots up into the air, looming over you. His eyes are rage-filled, you can see that, and reactively you backpeddle just as he rushes closer to you.
“Y/N, I swear to fucking god. You’re going to make me lose my mind.”
For a brief second, your hard exterior falters. His warning is low- almost growl like. It intimidated you initially, but then swiftly you regain composure and stand your ground, “You make me lose my mind all the time. So what? You’re not special.”
You audibly hear his breathing, and it begins to sync up with your own heavy pants. Both of you are pissed, that much is clear. It’s just about who is going to crumble first. And surely, it won’t be you.
He’s got a crazy look to his eyes, “I’m telling you right now. Shut. Up.”
You knew better than to challenge him. You knew you should walk away and storm upstairs. Exit the situation before matters get even worse. Quite literally anything else should be done, than the actions you decide to take.
You close the distance between you both, smiling the whole time as he brings his head in to regard you. At the recognition of that sick, sick smile you’re showcasing, he too knew it would be over.
Your voice starts off quiet, whispering out a, “What will happen if I don’t?” before absolutely losing it in his face, “Just face it, Sunghoon. You're not the perfect person you portray yourself to be after all. I mean, fucking the person you hate most at a party? Even that's a new low for you."
You hover below his face, stretching your body tall until your noses are almost touching, "I'm tired of you pretending to be higher than everyone else. Always treating people like they’re twenty feet below you. You’re vile and I think it's time you realized.....maybe you're the fucking problem. Hmm? Did you not think of-?"
Sunghoon doesn't know what came over him. One second, you're throwing words after words at him, and next thing he knows, he's pushing you up against the wall, knocking the wind out of you.
His veiny hands are curled around your neck, and your mouth hangs from shock at the sudden movement while he holds you firmly in your place. The pressure he's applied is not enough to significantly hurt you, he made sure it didn't, but was definitely enough to finally get you to stop talking.
You gasp lightly and your head feels faint.
"Do you…remember how that night started?" His tone is dark with his focus solely on you. You try bringing your hands up to pry him off of you, but he doesn't budge, instead going to answer his own question, "Because if memory serves me right, you were the one who was desperate. Desperate for this.”
This referring to the minor squeeze his hand does around your throat. He continues, "You were the one who kept testing me. Wanted to see what would happen if you made me angry enough." The gap between you two closes when he draws himself inwards, making sure you heard this next part clearly, "Someone needed to shut that bratty ass mouth of yours up then," He drops his gaze to briskly look at your lips then jeers, "And right now."
While you're left to wear a poor, helpless expression, Sunghoon couldn't help but eye you curiously. It should be laughable the new state you're in. So completely different from your previous attitudes.
Using his hand to guide you, he roughly brings your head forward, so his mouth can brush the outer shell of your ear, "You really pissed me off, Y/N."
You get shoved back against the wall with a wince. "And... maybe that was your end goal with all of these arguments. You wanted to get me to this point." At the recognition of his own words, the wheels begin to turn in his brain. His eyebrows dart upward and a devilish smile tugs at his lips, "And to that, you're going to regret saying even one word tonight. I'll make sure of it."
Before you can react, Sunghoon crawls his hand up until it rests below your chin. As his thumb releases from your skin, and slowly works his way up to your lips, you think he'll be gentle in the way he's getting ready to touch you.
Oh, how wrong you were.
The moment his thumb comes in contact with your mouth, it's being shoved into your wet hole. You gag on the digit as he begins ordering you to suck, "Just needa fuck the bratiness out of you, then. Remind you of how much of a fucking slut you were for me that night."
He instructs you to go harder, and faster, and leisurely, you do so. Tingles start to form all around him, "Yeah. I'll do that. I'll just have to fuck you dumb myself, starting with your loud mouth."
You squeeze your eyes shut at the motion, coughing hard against his skin as his fingers move to tangle within your hair. Sunghoon always knew how catty you can be, this fact evident from what happened that night at the party.
However, what's also true, is that you do it for your own guilty pleasure. You purposely bring this upon yourself.
He yanks his thumb away and in return, you're inhaling harshly for air, "-what the fuck?"
Sunghoon dismisses your worries. Without warning, he has you falling to the ground with one swift push, his own desires now starting to throb inside his sweats, "Go on. Pull down my pants, brat."
He murmurs those words with a tilted face. In contrast, you look up at him as fear and lust begin to cloud your vision. Even with the menacing face he sports, you know you're not one to fully give-in. Especially when it comes to Park Sunghoon.
You aren't sure what it is about the defiance, but it makes you crazy, "Like hell-"
The grip in your hair tightens and your mouth drops from the pain. He regards your expression, "Really? Do you think you're in a position to object me right now?"
Lips parted, you shudder out a sigh while staring at Sunghoon's deep gaze. The stance he has you in makes your stomach erupt into butterflies.
"Pull my pants down." He repeats once again and after a pause, you eventually do so. With a tremble, you begin to bring both hands up and fondle the waistband, struggling to remove the barricade.
A tiny smile breaks out onto the boy's face. It's amusing how you pretend as if this wasn't the end prize. He watches you react disgustingly to his finally freed cock that springs forward, and it takes all of his power to not ram it into your ungrateful little mouth.
"What are you looking like that for? Aren't you a whore for my cock, Y/N?" He derides and thrusts himself towards your face. You try to create distance, but the hand in your hair keeps you in place, "Let’s go. Stop acting like that and take out your fucking tongue."
You hate yourself for listening to him.
With a small shiver, you unhurriedly extend your tongue from your mouth, and immediately he slaps his dick onto your muscle. He's had a great amount of pre-cum built up for some time now, starting from the minute you came down in that skimpy ass outfit. So, as soon as his dick hits your tongue, your taste buds are drowning in the liquid.
He's gasping lightly from the immediate sensation. He rubs his head all over your surface, then gradually does he start to slip himself in and out of your mouth. Your eyes go nearly white from trying to take his full length, but that’s something that only makes Sunghoon hornier.
You’re gargling around his skin as he proceeds to go faster, his base smacking against your chin every so often. Spit and his thick liquid mix to form a froth that starts to spill from the corners of your mouth, and Sunghoon groans lowly at how filthy you look.
“Oh…fuck.” It feels too good, the rocking of his hips speeding up. He’s enjoying the aggressive way he bucks himself harder and harder inside of your throat. And even as you’re thrashing beneath him, straining to get air, he finds that he didn’t want to stop. It just turns him so damn much to see you take his fat cock.
He throws his head back, “Keep it open for me. Fuck- just keep that nasty mouth open.”
You’re sick. Sick towards him for using you in such a degrading way, for letting him nearly cut off the circulation to your head. Right now, you’re nothing more than a fuck toy for him, and he doesn’t even seem to care. Not when he has you as the perfect fucking stimulant.
Yet, you’re also sick at yourself. It’s embarrassing that you notice your pussy clenching around nothing the longer he keeps this up. The fact that you’ve become so dilated in your core that gravity has slick juices leaking from your entrance. All because of this asshole that’s abusing your mouth, you're becoming aroused like never before. It’s humiliating, really.
His movements begin to stutter with a vibration to his eyelids. Oh, fuck. He can feel his cum wanting to shoot out. Sunghoon continues to push your head into him as he internally debates at what the outcome should be. There’s still so much he’s wanting to do to you, to prove.
When you can’t take the torture anymore, you’re soon hitting his leg to get him the hell away from you. Your reaction makes him realize how intrusive he’s starting to be, but he's so swirled with the immaculate pleasure that he almost didn’t let go. Before he knows it, he’ll be cumming down your throat at any moment.
Ripping himself from your suction, Sunghoon relinquishes you two from the torture. Ragged breathing emits from you as hungrily you take in the surrounding air. He, on the other, holds quieter breaths. A part of him is surprised that he was even willing to let himself finish so quickly. You were going to make him finish quickly.
With a few additional huffs, and after a moment of silence falls into the atmosphere, he’s ready to address you. Because he’s not done with you just yet.
“Yah,” There’s a gasp to his tone while you glare up begrudgingly, “You finally changed that attitude of yours?”
With your chest heaving up and down, you continue to stare angrily. Sunghoon cocks his head to the side while he awaits for your reply, though judging by the look you sport, he doesn’t think it’ll be the answer he wants.
“Eat a fucking dick.” With a hoarse throat, you spit the phrase at him.
And. Snap.
Before you know it, Sunghoon is grabbing you by the hair and yanking you over to the couch with a stumble. He tosses your body face first into the cushion and you land with a soft groan.
“Just can’t stop, can you?” He sees your ass recoiling from the previous motion and he swears it makes him go feral, "I'll just have to keep reminding you then."
In a flash, when you tried to push yourself up, he strikes a hand down to your cheeks. Your flesh jiggles with the audible slap and you're falling back down with a much louder moan.
“Did you like that?” Feigning stupidity, Sunghoon uses one arm to grab at your tiny shirt from the back, flipping you around till you laid chest-up sprawled out on the couch, "Do you want another?"
Eyes glossy with anger, you can’t help but whimper as he lands a harsh smack to your clothed cunt. He repeats the motion in a harder manner once again, and this time you’re fighting back. You wriggle to close yourself off from him, but he’s fighting to keep your legs open. He's clasping your clit.
Your arms move in for attack, though he’s able to immobilize your hands by taking them with one grasp and holding them above your head. You’re stuck now.
You squirm around, “I hate you.”
"Really?" unfazed by your words, Sunghoon simply gives your wet core a hearty squeeze, “Well, I’m feeling that might not be true.”
Staring smugly, he keeps his eyes locked on your frantic gaze as he sweeps your shorts to the side. Wetness coats the tips of fingers in an instant and he hasn’t even fully touched you. Fucking hell.
“Right. You hate so much.” Sarcasm oozes from his lips with every stroke his fingers give your pussy, and you’re left to do nothing but wiggle. He towers over your contorted body, loving how quickly he was able to put you down.
His fingers circle your lips teasingly before moving into your dripping entrance. He doesn’t waste another second in shoving his digits in and out of your hole, eyeing the way you struggle to keep a straight face.
“S-So fucking annoying.” You stutter out, trying your absolute hardest to not slip and give him any further satisfaction of knowing he got to you.
Sunghoon takes this as a challenge. Leaning in closer, he changes the angle his fingers hit inside your squelching walls. His fingers gradually increase in pace until you're seeing stars. He continues to ram his digits inside of your pussy as they grow wetter and wetter. He keeps this up. And soon, your face morphs from that of resilience to a more natural state, your eyes lowering.
Oh, god. Your body’s succumbing to him. It’s taking the pleasure produced by him and using it against you, dammnit it. What becomes worse is how your body begins to rock alongside his fingers, chasing the high that’s ever growing in your system.
You howl, “Fuck!”
His fingers feel like they’re hitting your g-spot and now you’re a mess. Thrashing and twisting below him while he finger fucks your way to an orgasm. Your toes curl in the feelings that’s wafting over you. You’re losing control.
“God, I hate you. I hate you so fucking much.” You grit out through clenched teeth, eyes now tightly shut as you concentrate on his wicked pounding, “Can’t stand you. I-”
“Yeah? Yeah?” His questions are disingenuous. He wants you to keep going. Keep digging yourself a grave.
“Piss me of so- ah! Fuck! Don’t stop, don’t stop.” The words topple from your lips without a thought. Your hips rut harshly into his fingers, so greedily, so close to basically squirting. By any second you’re going to….you’re going to-
Your body goes cold the minute Sunghoon snatches his fingers from you, abstaining you from the arousal you'd been subjected to. Screeching, you bellow out a desperate cry from how empty you feel.
He bores a look of apathy, indifferent to your flailing, "What? Did you think I would actually let you cum? After your shitty attitude all night?"
Reaching down, he adjusts your rigid body into a more elongated position, then he's straddling you, "I just needed to get you ready. Cause now I want to destroy you."
You want to slap him, your face growing hotter by the second. This night, you've spent it feeling nothing but rage and lividness because of the boy on top of you.
But then he's working to uncover your breasts, playing and squishing them with both palms, and momentarily your facade begins to fade.
He's hunched over in the way he's needlessly gunning for your neck, biting and marking every spot he could. You squeal from the pain, and that only pushes him further.
He circles around the same throat he held previously to leave splotches of red staining your skin. It's in this moment of daze, his rapture begins to enthrall him, causing his cock to throb and throb until it's hurting.
Sunghoon works his way up, passing by your chin until he's aggressively making out with you. All of the pent up tension and conflicts feels as if they're being spilled out within the rough kiss, and you wrap an arm around him and mewl needily into his breath.
You still hate him, even if his annoyingly perfect lips mold deliciously into yours. You still hate him, even as he expertly touches and grabs at your tits, providing more stimulation to your already horny self.
But even you can't deny the desperate longing your body seeks as his thick, hard skin prods at the entrance of your shorts right now. And he can't wait anymore.
"Mmm, ready for me?" He mumbles against your mouth, though he didn't necessarily care for a response. Because even if you were to protest, he knew it would just be another ploy at deflection.
He's back to kissing you. The aggression that's brought along with it could be mistaken for passion and it makes you weak. Right before he darts the fabric off to the side and ready to take you whole, you pull back slightly, wanting to say one more thing.
"I h-hate you so much," you whine and he could only laugh. You truly never know when to shut up.
"You've told me that a couple of times." Muttering back, he recaptures your mouth and without wasting another second his cock finally plunges into your deep pussy.
Your walls immediately grip him, and the two of you groan simultaneously into each other. He did a good job at prepping you; you're beautifully slick and warm, just the way he likes it.
His cock starts to thrust rhythmically, relieving the ache you both were so full of. You can't help the string of grunts that fall from your lips, all chopped from each hit he gives your pussy.
"S-Shit." Sunghoon detaches his mouth from yours to completely bask in the arousal that's coursing throughout him. It brings him back to that night.
The night where you bent your sexy ass over for him, and watched yourself in the mirror as he smashed into your backside. He was on Cloud 9 then, but now coherent and in the right head space, it's like the pleasure has doubled.
You, meanwhile, are having an internal battle with yourself. Holy shit. It feels so fucking good when he's pounding inside of you. You swear you're gonna cum at any point. But, there's still this sense of revulsion that bubbles in the pit of your stomach- because of the fact that you're allowing Park Sunghoon to fuck you so roughly.
"H-Hope you know- mmrgh! This is a-all your fault." You stammer out, eyes shutting forcefully on themselves, "You always c-cause problems. You're in the- you're in the-"
A hand comes down over your lips and shuts you up, your face relaxing into a state of bliss. You aren't sure why you always jumble out nonsense when in moments of euphoria. It's just as if....he's...
"I said I would fuck you dumb," Sunghoon sighs as his back lurches over to grind into your cunt at a different angle, "Guess I actually did."
Your response is muffled and buzzes into his skin. There are no intentions of uncovering himself, either. No way will he let this indescribable sensation be override by your loud ass, bratty ass mouth.
His hips continue to drive harshly into your liquified cunt, squelching and dripping the more he fucks himself into you. He only gets faster while you begin to grow limp. Your own pleasure starts to consume you until you don't have the willpower to move.
Sunghoon feels his cock start to twitch, "About to cum," he moans near your ear, "Can feel myself about to cum inside your dirty pussy. Are you close too?"
You shriek into his hand a multitude of yes's as you feel yourself so close to snapping. It's only a matter of time before you're losing control all at the hands of your actual worst nightmare.
He weighs his options, "Mmm....but should I? Do you deserve to orgasm with me?"
You'd despise not only him but yourself if you didn't. You're too far gone. The pleasure is catching up to you closer and closer, the more he buries himself damn near into your cervix. Waves after waves of ecstasy release into your core and you almost want to cry from how amazing it feels. So there's no fucking way you're going to miss this.
You never thought you would do this, but it's only a matter of time.
What sounds like your yes's transforming into pleads, Sunghoon scrunched his eyebrows, going to remove your hand. Are you....?
The moment your mouth is free you yell out a whimper, "Please. Please. 'm so close, Sunghoon. Sunghoon, please. I can't, I can't. I need this so bad."
Oh, fuck.
He'd never thought he'd see the day. He's never heard you beg before. The way his name sounds so good when you're pleading, how it squeals out from your lips. It makes his cock twitch once again and he's clenching his ass cheeks to stop him from popping a load right into you.
"You really want to?" He speaks quietly and more to himself, before deciding to give you what you want. Even brats can be rewarded.
He's pushing himself up and is now hovering over your face, his pelvis driving brutally into your core, "Okay. Okay, just let go. Cum for me."
You're so grateful you could kiss him. You let the slaps his skin produce fill you ears as you give yourself some slack for even letting this happen. You were about to cum because of Park Sunghoon, and there was nothing you wanted to do to stop it.
Sunghoon can't help but stare at your wavering face. Going from tight tension to relaxing and belting out a moan, your expressions keeps his eyes trained on you.
"Here, here. Faster, need you to cum right now." And almost like a present for you, Sunghoon brings a hand down to start massaging your clit, getting you to the very last point you needed to before exploding.
When his fingers circle rapidly against your nerves, combined with his pounding that has you babbling out nothing, your orgasm hits you so hard, starting from your pussy and running up into your head, making you dizzy. The moment causes you to starting quavering sporadically and mewing out, 'I'm cumming!'
That was what Sunghoon needed. Your orgasm causes your insides to start squeezing, pulsating around his cock so perfectly. At the third time he feels his cock beginning to twitch, he grants himself permission to let go. Next thing he knows, he's shooting out viscous ropes of cum into your velvety cunt, groaning about how perfect of a brat you are for him.
'Finally fucking listened'
'My perfect brat'
'God, you're amazing'
All is being said as you two finish out your orgasms. As he stutters above you, and you're quaking below him, you both seem to have finally found peace within being close to one another.
Which brings to an end this dirty, filthy night.
*
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✧ ✧
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- Bonus -
Your mother and Mrs. Park hadn't intended on being back at the house past midnight. But, how were they supposed to know the company gathering would be such a blast!
The event had the women interacting, mingling, dancing, singing with every single one of their coworkers until around 11:30 PM! And that was only because the event was over around then, they surely still had some more juice in their system.
By the time the two arrived back at your house, they'd been laughing hysterically to one another, unbeknownst to the absolute chaos that had ensued just hours earlier.
Your mother unlocks the door with her keys, and as they swing it open, they're met with a surprising scene in front of them.
Sunghoon, all wide awake, and sitting on the couch by his lonesome. The T.V is there to keep him entertained, but other than that, there were no signs that you were around. As Mrs. Park goes to greet her son, your mother stares at the boy with worried eyes.
"Oh, Sunghoon. Were you down here by yourself this whole time? Did Y/N not come down?" She walks up to him, though is quickly mollified when he's giving her a small smile.
"No, she did. We watched a film together, though half-way through it, she started to doze off. I had to carry her upstairs; she was so out of it." He nods softly at the end of his sentence and your mother reciprocates his delicate response.
It warms her heart to hear that you tried.
"Oh, Hoonie! I told you things would work itself out if you would just be nicer to the poor girl. You know how timid she can be." His mother pats at his shoulder, "Come on. Grab your shoes and I'll take us home."
"I'm happy you guys were able to have a nice night together." Your mother beams while walking alongside Sunghoon towards the front door, "Are you two okay now? Should I be expecting you back here more often?"
Sunghoon regards your mother, his own brain thinking at how to properly respond to that. It's not until he's slipped his shoes and coat on, and holding the door open for Mrs.Park to exit, before giving a proper answer.
"Yes, Miss, I believe we're just fine now.”
At the last second of his departure, his eyes catch sight of movement on the staircase. Having awoken from your slumber, you heard voices from downstairs and decided to investigate. Creeping around the top stairs, all you were met with was Sunghoon talking to your mother with one foot out the door.
You attempt to remain hidden behind the wall, waiting for him to leave. But, soon, you find his gaze moving slowly until it lands onto your face. He holds eye contact with you one last time, your stomach in knots from how compelling his essence is.
“I'll try to come back here more often," He steps his other foot outside as a faint grin overtakes his cheeks.
"I’ll make sure of it.”
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sleepyhoon · 23 days ago
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part 2 - read part 1 here
✰ pairing. — emo!hs x reader
✰ genre. — early 2000s au, best friend’s older brother, childhood friends to lovers, smut, light angst.
✰ word count. — 10k+
✰ warnings. — swearing, family issues, friendship betrayal, mention of drugs/alcohol, smut [ cunnilingus, rough sex, …idk how else to describe it ] reader and hs are both 18+, minors dni, cliffhanger.
✰ a/n. PART 3 IS IN THE WORKS PART 3 IS IN THD WORKS PART 3 IS IN THE WORKS
✰ perm taglist. @intromortal @aanniikkaa @meetletsinmontauk @lovelyyf @right-person-wrong-time
———
“Did you seriously think I wouldn’t find out?” Chaeryeong is glaring daggers at you upon opening the front door, arms crossed across her chest as she eyes you. Her lips are twisted into a disgusted snarl, you’ve never seen her this upset before.
You swallow the lump in your throat, “Find out about what?”
She cocks her head to the side, squinting her eyes at you, “Don’t act like you don’t know.”
Fuck, you’re screwed. If there were a list of all the reasons why you shouldn’t have had sex with Lee Heeseung, the simple fact of him being your best friend’s brother would be number one.
With closed eyes, you let out a relieved sigh. As much as you wanted to wait to tell Chaeryeong about hooking up with Heeseung, it’d be an enormous weight off your shoulders not having to hide it any longer. It’d only been a few days since it happened, but you hate keeping secrets from her.
“How’d you find out?” You question, chewing on your bottom lip.
“My parents told me, duh.”
Holy crap, Heeseung told his parents the two of you had sex? Why the fuck would he do that?
“They did?” You ask, completely bewildered.
“Well, yeah!” Chaeryeong finally uncrosses her arms, demeanor completely changing as her gaze softens, “Why didn’t you tell me your sister got engaged?”
Thank God you didn’t elaborate any further.
“Oh! Because they probably aren’t gonna last.” You respond, stepping into the Lee household once Chaeryeong allows you to enter. It’s been a few days since you’ve been here, mostly due to the fact that you were completely avoiding Heeseung.
The empty condom in his trash bin had been plaguing your mind nonstop, you could barely even sleep from how embarrassed you were. Why did he fake his orgasm? What if he didn't fake an orgasm and just shot a blank? Did you do something wrong? Was he not attracted to you? Why was the condom empty?
Seeing him in person would’ve only intensified the thoughts roaming in your head, so you avoided him at all costs up until now. You’d promised the Lee siblings that you’d finally see Twilight with them and their friends despite not being able to function correctly around either of them.
Chaeryeong snickers, following you into the living room. “Ooh, that’s not nice.”
“It’s true, though,” you explain, “she’s still so young, only a few years older than your brother. I mean, can you picture Heeseung getting married in a few years?”
The regret from that question fills you almost immediately.
“Sure,” Chaeryeong responds, pausing to greet the eager doberman charging at her. “As long as he finds the right person; he’d get married in a heartbeat.”
You want to ask what Chaeryeong’s definition of “the perfect person” would be for Heeseung or the type of girl she’d be willing to set him up with. It’d probably be the unnamed, mysterious redhead you recently dreamed about curb stomping (yikes!).
You don’t respond to this, taking a seat on the sofa when the sudden shout of your name has you flinching. It’s Chaeryeong’s parents, excitedly greeting you with open arms as you politely stand to properly hug them. “I feel like it’s been so long since we’ve seen you! How’s your family? We just heard the news about your sister!” Mrs. Lee ambushes you with questions, all while cradling your face.
“About how she’s making the biggest mistake of her life?” You half-joke.
Mrs. Lee playfully waves a hand in your direction as she steps into the kitchen, her husband only a few feet behind. “Oh, don’t say that. I’m sure the two of them will be very happy together.” She turns to her husband, grabbing his hand, “I just can’t believe Imogen is getting married. I still remember when she first started high school.”
Mr. Lee sighs in disbelief. “I know,” he mumbles, nodding at you. “You’re up next soon, huh?”
“Maybe she can marry Heeseung,” Mrs. Lee joked, opening her fridge, “set him straight.”
There’s an idea.
“Gross, Mom. Don’t wish that on her.” Chaeryeong groans in disgust as she plops down next to you.
Well, that answers your previous question.
“We should probably get going, right? To make it in time for the trailers?” You ask.
“Yeah, we should.” Chaeryeong responds, tilting her head up towards the staircase, “Heeseung! Hurry up and come downstairs! We’re ready to go!”
“Gimmie a minute!” He shouts back, and a chill runs down your spine. It’s been too long since you’ve heard his voice. The last time you saw him, he was lying naked in his bed; you’re not sure how you’ll survive being around him all night knowing what your last encounter was like.
As promised, Heeseung is sliding down the staircase a minute later and nails the landing. He’s wearing a black Twilight shirt featuring the leading couple, black cargo pants, and, of course, black sneakers. He looks like his usual self until you take a closer look and notice the reddish-black eyeshadow that decorated his eyes. It wasn’t much, just enough to make his eyes pop, and it complimented him perfectly. A second later, you see the black nail polish neatly coated on his nails. You have to blink a few times to ensure this is real life and you’re not trapped in a wet dream.
He strolls into the kitchen, ignoring the stares from his parents before digging through the fridge. His mom clears her throat, crossing her arms at him.
“What?” He asks, retrieving a two-liter Mountain Dew bottle.
“Seriously, Heeseung? The makeup? The nail polish?” She questions, clearly frustrated.
Heeseung cocks his head, unscrewing the soda bottle’s lid. “What’s wrong with it? Chaeryeong’s wearing the same thing.”
“Son, you know that’s different.” His father interjects.
Heeseung takes a swig of the soda before responding. “Why? Because she’s a girl?”
“It’s not like that, hon. It’s just…we didn’t make a big deal of it when you first started the piercings, and the tattoos, and the hair dye, but this…it’s a little much. Don’t you think?” His mother asks.
You want to step in and tell his parents that Heeseung is old enough to make his own decisions and express himself as he pleases, but it’s not your place. Instead, you cheer silently when Chaeryeong surprisingly interrupts the discussion. “Did you guys seriously force him to come back home just to criticize how he presents himself, or would you rather have a peaceful summer?”
“We aren’t trying to criticize him, Chaeryeong. We’re just looking out for our child.” Mr. Lee responds.
“It’s a special occasion, Dad. Is it bad that I wanted to look nice for—” Heeseung abruptly cuts himself short, quickly glancing in your direction before returning his attention to his parents. “...to go see Twilight with my friends?”
What was that about?
Silence passes, and the three stare at each other until Mrs. Lee sighs defeatedly and says, “No, there’s nothing wrong with that, sweetheart. I hope you guys enjoy the movie.”
“We will,” Heeseung responds, closing the soda bottle lid and placing it back in the fridge. He heads for the front door, beckoning you and Chaeryeong to follow behind. He’s eager to leave the house, quickly swinging the front door open and jogging towards his car.
You and Chaeryeong say goodbye to her parents with a promise to be home by eleven before following in Heeseung’s footsteps, who already has the car running. As you wait for Chaeryeong to finish locking the front door, Heeseung rolls down his window and shouts, “Hurry up! Let’s go!”
“Will you calm down?!” Chaeryeong throws back, rolling her eyes as she finally removes the house key from the lock.
You follow her towards Heeseung’s car, sliding into the backseat as you pretend not to notice Heeseung watching you through the rearview mirror. He wants you to look at him, but you refuse, busying yourself by buckling your seatbelt and convincing Chaeryeong to do the same. Once Heeseung is convinced you’re not going to do so much as glance at him, he puts the car in drive and pulls into the road.
Chaeryeong talks your ear off in the backseat about whatever comes to mind while you keep your eyes on the window. It’s hard to not notice Heeseung glancing back at you through the mirror at every red light or stop sign, but you don’t dare meet his gaze.
The movie theater’s parking lot is crowded when you arrive; it takes Heeseung a few minutes to eventually locate a spot. A smile is plastered on his face as he parks the car, eager to see some of his closest friends after being separated. He informs you and Chaeryeong to disregard anything foolish he friends may say, claiming they arrived early to smoke behind the movie theater, so they’re more than likely too high to function properly.
Heeseung shrugs when Chaeryeong asks why people do that, shoving his hands into his pockets as the three of you make your way towards the theater entrance. “Some people say it makes the movie experience better.”
You want to ask Heeseung if he’s ever been high, but you can barely even bring yourself to look in his direction; let alone ask him a question. So you’re silent as the three of you enter the movie theater, instantly spotting Heeseung’s bandmates in the far corner.
Well…Heeseung’s bandmates and one other guest.
The bubbly redhead greets you guys first, running up to Heeseung with open arms as if they haven’t seen each other in a million years. It makes you want to vomit.
You look away as they hug, directing your attention to the concession stand employee who had apparently already been watching you. His name tag reads ‘Jake’, and he resembles a slightly younger version of Heeseung, with the same dark hair and similar lip piercing. His eyes stay on you until a customer blocks your path, and you’re back to watching Heeseung reunite with his friends.
“Hey, you were the one at that party, right? With Chaeryeong?” The redhead asks, squinting her eyes at you.
“Yeah.” Is all you respond with, because why in God’s name is this girl talking to you right now?
“It’s nice to meet you, I’m Scar,” she introduces herself, extending a hand for you to shake.
Chaeryeong interjects, grabbing ahold of your wrist while glaring at Scar. “Your name is Scarlett.”
She drags you along to the ticketbooth, mumbling about she doesn’t like nor trusts Scar. When you ask for her reasonsings, she responds with, “I don’t need one. I just don’t like her.”
At least you’re on the same page about that.
Still, you can’t help but wonder why Chaeryeong has a distaste for Scar. You have your petty reasoning for disliking her, but Chaeryeong (more than likely) has better knowledge of Scar’s personality, so whatever reasons she has for disliking her could be legitimate.
You’re thinking of this as Heeseung is ordering the tickets for everyone, asking the employee to give him a minute when the friend you recognise as Jay starts tapping his shoulder. “We should go see Saw instead, it just came out.”
Heeseung looks genuinely confused at the suggestion. “What? No, we came here to see Twilight.”
“So?!” Jungwon chimes in, eyes as red as the devil, “Come on, dude, you’ve already seen Twilight, don’t you wanna see something new?”
“Fuck no, we’re literally in the middle of buying the tickets.” Heeseung reminds everyone.
“I kinda wanna see Saw, too.”
“Same.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“I do, too.”
Heeseung whips his head around at his sister, “What? Even you?”
Chaeryeong scoffs, “Well, yeah! Twilight just seems boring in comparison.”
“Come on guys,” the employee interrupts, “you’re holding up the line.”
Heeseungs turns towards you. “Do you still wanna see Twilight?”
Truthfully, you want to go home; but seeing how excited Heeseung was for the movie made you feel something, so you nod. He lets out a relieved sigh.
He moves out of the way to allow his friends to buy their tickets first, slipping his sister cash to pay for hers; to which she initially rejects. “I don’t need your money,” she claims.
“Just take it, Chaeryeong. I brought it for you.”
From what you can make out, it’s enough to cover her ticket and grab something from the concession stand. The pair of siblings may bicker a lot, but it’s nice to know Heeseung still looks out for his younger sister whenever he can.
Chaeryeong reluctantly accepts the money and purchases her ticket, you watch as Heeseung follows suit; ordering two tickets for Twilight and stopping you from opening your purse. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Oh, it’s fine. I have enough.” You reassure him.
Heeseung laughs to himself, “Why are the two of you like this?” He questions, fishing out crumpled dollar bills from his pocket and handing them to the cashier who sighs in annoyance, straightening and inspecting each bill before placing it in his register.
You don’t know why Heeseung insists on being so nice to you despite your persistence on not speaking to him. A part of you wonders if he thinks this is some kind of date now that the two of you will be separated from the group. It doesn’t matter, you don’t know why you’re thinking too much into it.
Once all the tickets have been purchased, the seven of you head towards the concession stand. Chaeryeong debates pushing herself to the front of the long line, claiming that the theater should make accommodations to those who’s movie is starting sooner. Or something like that, you can’t really focus with the way Jake is staring at you. You’re used to guys staring all the time, but they tend to shyly look away upon making eye contact.
Jake is quite the opposite, staring you down every chance he gets. Your skin feels hot, and you’re suddenly growing anxious under his gaze.
When the group ahead of you has finished ordering and is heading off into their theater, you’re sure to stick close to Heeseung as you approach the counter. Jake eyes him over once before returning his gaze to you. “What can I get for you guys?”
Heeseung takes the liberty of ordering a large popcorn for the two of you to share, and doesn’t even get mad when you request a slushie instead of a fountain drink. He doesn’t let you pay of course, swatting your hand away when you absentmindedly reach for your purse. “You seriously have to stop doing that.” He mumbles, handing Jake the cash.
Jake is quick to prepare the popcorn and Heeseung’s drink, but takes his time when making your slushie. He’s sure to fill it to the brim, and you’re worried it may accidentally overflow and leave a sticky mess. “You didn’t want candy or anything?” He questions, handing you your drink.
You shrug, “Maybe Twizzlers, but—”
Before you can finish, Jake is reaching under the counter then sliding you a pack of Twizzlers. “On me.”
“Oh, are you sure?” You ask, hesitant to accept the free candy.
Jake sends Heeseung a cocky smirk before he responds, “Yeah, enjoy the movie.”
You thank Jake and pretend to not notice the death glares the two boys are sending one another before walking with Heeseung to your theater. “That guy was weird.” He comments.
“Yeah.” You agree, but it’s definitely not true. Jake was friendly and clearly interested in you, unlike Heeseung who was sending you nonstop, draining mixed signals. If his definition of weird is someone who is straightforward, then perhaps you should start going after weirdos.
Once you’re settled in your seats in the back of the theater, — per Heeseung’s request — he clears his throat then says, “So, I tried messaging you on Facebook. Didn’t get anything back.”
“Oh, sorry. I haven’t been using Facebook that much.” You reply, hoping your lame excuse is believable enough.
He nods, eyes bouncing between you and the movie trailers playing in the background. “Yeah, I figured.” He says. When you don’t respond, he continues, “I would’ve asked Chaeryeong for your number, but I didn’t want her to get suspicious or anything.”
“That’s smart.” You admit, nodding in agreement.
“Are you okay?” Heeseung asks suddenly, his full attention to you.
You finally make eye contact, and the expression on his face makes your heart sink. He looks genuinely concerned and confused by your sudden coldness. You hate being so mean to him, but you’re too embarrassed to explain the real reason why you’ve been avoiding him. So you nod and say, “Just a little tired.”
It’s clear he doesn’t believe this, the same expression is still on his face as he refocuses on the movie trailers.
You hate how awkward it feels to be around him now, never in a million years would you have guessed the two of you would end up like this. A week ago you would’ve been overjoyed at the idea of being on a movie date with Heeseung; and now you’re considering leaving early and catching a taxi home.
The two of you remain silent as the rest of the trailers play on, and Heeseung immediately sits up in his seat when the lights finally dim and the curtains are being pulled back further. He’s incredibly quiet throughout the movie aside from a muffled chuckle every now and then; he even side-eyes anyone making too much noise.
You enjoy Twilight nonetheless, agreeing with Heeseung that you do in fact dress like Bella Swan from time to time. When he asks if you liked it as you’re exiting the theater, you tell him it was very nice, and that you hope there’ll be another movie.
Heeseung smiles at this, tossing his empty cup in a nearby trash bin. “I’m sure there will be. Maybe they’ll even cast you as Bella’s stunt double since you already have the clothes.”
“Shut up.” You tease, and it feels nice to be able to joke around with him as usual. Maybe you’ll finally have the courage to tell Heeseung why you’ve been so distant these past few days.
Saw doesn’t get out for another few minutes, so you’re stuck waiting in the lobby for Chaeryeong and everyone else. Heeseung gestures towards the nearly empty slushie cup clutched in your hands, “You get free refills on that, I think.”
You take his word, strolling over to the concession stand. Jake spots you immediately and gestures for you to skip around the line. You shake your head, but he still beckons for you to come over. You feel bad, but the line has gotten longer since you were first here, and you really don’t want to wait in a long line just for a refill.
“What flavor?” He asks once you’ve slid him your cup.
You tell him anything is fine and he gets to work, combining the cherry and blue raspberry flavors. “How was the movie?”
“It was good. The vampire stuff was cool.”
“Have you seen Saw yet? It just came out.”
“No, I haven’t.”
“It’s so good; if you wanna give me your number maybe we can see it together some time.”
What is it with guys offering to take you out to a movie they’ve already seen? You’re not complaining, it’s just odd.
Jake is clearly interested in you and has offered to take you out. You'd be silly to pass up on this guy just because your current relationship with your longtime crush is at a standstill. So you accept, scribbling your phone number down on a napkin with your name underneath. He makes a promise to call you once his shift is over, and that he looks forward to seeing you.
When you turn to meet up with Heeseung, he’s gone. You catch him storming out of the theater, hauling ass to his car.
You run to catch up to him, calling out his name and begging him to slow down.
When he finally does stop, there’s a look on his face that you’ve never seen before. He gets angry all the time, but this was something completely different, something unrecognizable.
He was hurt.
“So you were just using me, huh?”
What? What is he talking about?
“Using you for what?”
“To lose your virginity. You just wanted to get it over with, right?” His voice is slightly hushed now, but still loud enough for you to feel embarrassed about anyone passing through the parking lot.
“Heeseung, what are you talking about?”
“You used me to lose your virginity, so when you date other guys you can tell them you’ve had sex before. Is that what this is?”
This accusation hurts, considering that Heeseung was the only guy you’ve ever been interested in romantically and sexually. You don’t know where this theory is coming from, but you don’t like it.
Heeseung continues before you respond, “I tried reaching out and talking to you, and you just blew me off! And yet here you are giving your number to random guys! Am I not good enough for you?!”
“It’s not like that, Heeseung!” You don’t mean to raise your voice at him, but you can’t help it. Both of your emotions were at an all time high.
“Then what is it like?!”
Here goes nothing.
There’s already tears forming as you go to explain yourself. “I didn’t reach out to you because…because I was embarrassed.”
“You were embarrassed to have sex with me?”
This is bad; really, really bad. Much worse than you could have ever imagined.
It’s started raining by now, and if Heeseung noticed it, then he doesn’t seem to care; allowing the raindrops to stain his outfit and ruin his eye makeup.
It feels like a scene from a movie, him standing there in the pouring rain waiting for a response while you stumble over your words to formulate one.
“No!” You yell in reassurance, “No, no, no. Of course not. I was embarrassed because I know you didn’t finish. I just thought maybe I did something wrong or maybe I didn’t do enough.”
Heeseung quirks a brow at you, “What makes you think I didn’t finish?”
You really hate that he’s making you explain this. “I saw the condom afterwards; it was empty.”
“You went digging in my trash can to find the condom?” Now he looks more disgusted than confused; this is going so horribly.
“No! I saw it when I went to get my phone off the charger.”
Heeseung takes a minute to process everything, scratching his chin in deep thought. You can’t tell what he’s feeling, but he does look hurt. It makes you regret avoiding him in the first place.
“So, you were prepared to never talk to me again over an empty condom?” Despite his tough demeanor, he’s clearly shaking as he questions you.
You want to say no, that it wasn’t a case, but you can’t bring yourself to lie to him again. So you say nothing. Heeseung nods at your lack of response before turning around and walking towards his car. You remain still, frozen in place, watching as he sits on the hood of his car and smokes a cigarette.
If it weren’t for Chaeryeong finishing her movie within the next few minutes, you would’ve walked the entire way home.
———
This bitch is driving you crazy.
Your older sister, Imogen, is home for a few days to start her wedding preparations. The fake bridezilla persona she's putting on bothers you the most, bursting out in tears at the most inconvenient times or having a breakdown about selecting a theme. Deep down, she doesn't care about any of this bullshit; she's like you about parties or big events.
"This is literally the biggest day of my life, and you're being so fucking difficult." Imogen snarls at you, pouring herself a cup of coffee. You're sitting a few feet away on the kitchen counter, staring out the kitchen window. Despite Imogen's occasional yelling and snarky comments, all you can think of is Heeseung.
It's been an entire week since the movie theater incident. You haven't stopped by the Lee household not once, telling Chaeryeong you fell ill and don't want to get her sick. It's another lame excuse, but she buys it, opting to talk to you on the phone daily until you recover.
You have yet to speak to Heeseung; but it's not like you've tried. The idea of messaging him on Facebook and not receiving a response makes you anxious, and it's hard to believe you subjected him to the same torture not long ago. It doesn't help that Scarlett is suddenly all over his page, commenting on nearly every one of his posts, writing on his wall, or tagging him in pictures. Your recurring dream of curb-stomping her is back in full force.
You sigh at your sister, "Whatever you say, Imogen."
She waves dismissively at you, "Please, don't even talk to me right now."
You hop off the counter in annoyance and stomp off towards the staircase, mumbling, "Fucking drama queen."
"Language." Your mom warns you, flipping through one of the several bridal magazines your sister has stacked on the coffee table.
Imogen scoffs, setting her mug on the counter. "I'm the drama queen? Whenever I talk about my wedding, you throw a fit."
"Why are you pretending to care about this stupid wedding and that stupid boy you barely even know?!" You shout back from the staircase.
"If my wedding is so stupid, then don't come!"
"I don't even want to go to your stupid wedding with your stupid fiancé and your stupid red velvet cake that no one's going to fucking eat!"
This is probably the dumbest fight you've ever had.
Imogen doesn’t respond to this, advised by your mother no to and to just let you stomp up the stairs in a furious rage. You make a beeline straight to your desktop, waking up the computer with a shake of the mouse and entering your password.
Facebook is already open once you’ve signed in, Heeseung’s page staring right back at you. You’re ashamed to admit you’d been cyber stalking him, but you really didn’t have any other choice. Seeing him in person would’ve been too much, but you still want to make sure he’s doing okay.
There’s a new post up when you refresh the page, you chew on your bottom lip as you anxiously wait for it to finish loading.
It’s a picture of his dirty Chuck Taylor’s perched upon a wooden stool. You recognize the background immediately, he’s in the treehouse in his backyard. You and Chaeryeong would spend hours up there as kids, giving each other manicures and exchanging secrets; now you can barely look her in the eye without bursting out in tears. You hate how complicated things have become.
There’s a light tap against your door that has you swiveling around in your chair. It’s Imogen, leaning against your doorframe with her arms crossed. “Who’s that?”
“Chaeryeong’s brother.” You respond, scrolling to a photo that actually shows his face.
Imogen steps further into your bedroom, squinting her eyes at the computer screen. “Oh, yeah. Hasn’t changed much, has he?” When you remain silent, she asks, “Would it be wrong of me to assume he’s the real reason why you’re so upset?”
You sigh, letting your shoulders drop. “You’d be very correct, actually.”
She nods in understanding, taking a seat on the edge of your bed. “So, what’s going on? You like him?”
“We kind of like each other, I guess.” You mumble. To be honest, you’re not quite sure how Heeseung feels about you right now.
“And Chaeryeong doesn’t approve of it?”
You snort, “Chaeryeong doesn’t know. There was nothing to tell her at first, but things have changed.”
“Are you guys dating?”
“No. We actually haven’t talked in a week. I may have hurt his feelings.”
Imogen nods towards your desktop, “Where is he now?”
You shrug, “Home, I guess.”
She stands, stretching out her limbs. She glances around your room, locates a jacket dangling lifelessly from your doorknob, and tosses it to you. “Let’s go.”
Taking an impromptu trip to the Lee household had you sweating. What if Heeseung doesn’t even want to see you? What if Chaeryeong catches you talking and asks what’s going on?
Each concern you raise is instantly shot down by Imogen, claiming you’re creating excuses to avoid seeing him, how you’re only imagining the worst possible scenarios. You appreciate her overwhelming support but can’t help the nervousness creeping through your body as her car approaches the Lee household.
“Remember, be apologetic but not desperate,” Imogen informs you, putting her car in park in front of the house.
“I am desperate.” You remind her.
“Well, don’t let him see it. You got this.”
You thank your sister one last time for the advice before stepping out of her car. You’re careful to avoid being seen from windows as you make your way into the backyard; not entirely sure what you’d say if Chaeryeong were to catch you.
You scale the tree quickly, silently praying the old wooden steps are stable enough to hold your weight.
You sigh in relief once you’ve reached the top, only to groan at the sight of Scarlett sitting across from you. She looks up from her iPod with a bright smile, quickly pulling out her earbuds as you enter the treehouse. “Hey, stranger! Watcha doing here?”
Her enthusiasm really makes you sick. “Came to see Heeseung,” you pause to glance around the tiny, wooden deathtrap, “but he’s nowhere to be found.”
“He’ll be back soon; went to use the bathroom,” Scarlett informs you, running her hands through her hair. “So, you guys really like each other, huh?”
What? She knows about that?
“Heeseung told you?” You question, trying your best to appear unbothered. You’re unsure where she’s going with this, but you have no reason to trust her.
Scarlett nods, “We tell each other everything. So when he told me you guys weren’t talking, I may have devised a plan to help you come around. You do use Facebook, right?” She smirks
Holy shit, all the posts of them together were to make you feel jealous enough to have a conversation with him; and your sworn enemy was the mastermind behind it. It was all a ploy to get under your skin, and you fell right into the trap.
“You’re a stubborn little thing, though. Didn’t think it’d take you so long.” She comments, slipping her jacket on.
You shrug, “I didn’t think he’d want to talk to me.”
“Heeseung always wants to talk to you. I don’t mind it, though. You seem good for him.”
Aside from Chaeryeong, Scarlett is probably the last person you would’ve expected to be supportive of your relationship with Heeseung. So, to hear she’d been secretly rooting for you behind the scenes nearly gives you whiplash. You almost feel wrong about your dreams of shoving her face into the pavement.
You tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “So, nothing is going on between you guys?”
Scarlett grimaces as if you deeply offended her, “Of course not! Don’t get me wrong, he’s cute, but not my type. His sister is cute, though.”
Woah.
“Chaeryeong? Lee Chaeryeong? You’re into her?” You ask, completely stunned.
“Hell yes. Hey, do you think you could set us up? Heeseung would never.”
“You do know that Chaeryeong can’t stand you, right?”
Scarlett excitedly nods, “I know, it’s kind of a turn-on.”
You hold your hands out to stop her from elaborating any further. Scarlett has surprised you in more ways than one in less than five minutes. You’re sure any new information would’ve made your head explode.
“I’ll…try my best.” You promise; not quite sure how Chaeryeong would feel about the idea of Scarlett liking her.
“For what?” A voice interrupts, causing you and Scarlett to direct your attention to the treehouse’s entrance. And there he is, in all his gothic glory.
“Girl talk, none of your business,” Scarlett responds, making room for Heeseung to crawl in.
“Fine. You keep your secrets; I’ll keep mine.” Heeseung groans, sitting between the two of you.
“Will do. I’m outta here. Got a hot date with a box of hair dye. See you suckers later.” Scarlett waves goodbye as she exits the treehouse, reminding you of your promise before disappearing down the steps.
Heeseung clears his throat, sweeping his hair away from his eyes. "So—"
"I'm sorry," you cut him off, "I should've reached out and talked to you, but I was just too embarrassed and didn't know how to approach you about it. I really like you, and I wasn't using you to lose my virginity. I mean, you're the only person I've ever been interested in. So, again, I'm sorry."
He sighs, "I understand why you were embarrassed, but I promise it had nothing to do with you."
"Then what was it?"
Heeseung anxiously scratches the back of his head before he responds. "It's just that…sometimes…it takes me a little bit longer to, uh…to finish."
Oh.
"Is it because of your…size?" You can't help but wonder.
Heeseung snorts, "What, you think I'm big?"
"I'm out of here." You joke, faking as if you're about to leave.
"Wait, wait, wait." He stops you, "I was only kidding. I never really thought size played a factor in it, but every guy is different. But, still, that doesn't mean I didn't enjoy us having sex. I mean, you had already finished, and I didn't want to tire you out just for my sake."
Knowing he had a perfectly reasonable explanation makes you feel even worse about spending all that time avoiding him. You want to tell him you wouldn't mind him tiring you out, that the idea excites you, but you refrain.
A beat of silence passes, and you ask, "But, I'm sure if there's something that you're really into, then it wouldn't take as long for you to finish. Right?"
Heeseung nods, "I guess."
"Then, what is it? What are you into?"
He coughs, tips of his ears turning a light shade of pink. "Um…I guess I'm into…roughness?"
Ah.
"That's not a big deal. A lot of people are probably into that."
"I mean, it's fine either way, but I mostly prefer when girls are kinda rough with me. Fuck, this is embarrassing."
"It's not!" You reassure him, placing a gentle hand on his knee, "It's nothing to be embarrassed about. I appreciate you trusting me enough to tell me."
Heeseung stares at your hand on his knee before placing his own on top. You twist yours upwards and interlock your fingers, not missing the smile that forms on his face. His bangs have swept into his eyes again, and you use your free hand to move them out of the way. "It was my first time, too, by the way."
You snort, "You don't need to say that just to make me feel better."
"I'm serious," he continues, "I mean, I've gotten pretty handsy in the past, but nothing like what we did."
You shake your head, "I don't buy it. You seemed so experienced like you knew what you were doing."
Heeseung shrugs, "I mean, I'm not completely innocent. I may occasionally watch certain videos and read certain stories from time to time."
Porn and smut. Beautiful combination.
He shakes his head, "You still don't believe me; how come?"
You sigh, memories of the night before he left for college flashing in your mind. How you ran home in tears, how he only responded to Scar's comment on Chaeryeong's Facebook post. It almost hurts to think about. "The night before you left for school, there was an opened condom wrapper on your floor. I just figured…you know."
Heeseung nods at the memory. "I wasn't gonna go to the dorms the next day. I was planning on running away, that's why I gave you that bandana. After my parents helped bring my stuff to the dorms, I was gonna put everything in my car then take off."
You're having a hard time processing this information. Why would Heeseung plan on running away? What does this story have to do with the empty condom?
He continues, clutching your hand even tighter. "I only told a few people I was leaving, and there was this one girl who came over to say goodbye. She'd been really into me for a while and was heartbroken that I was leaving. We were about to hook up, hence the condom wrapper, but I couldn't do it."
"Why?" You question.
"Didn't feel right. I wasn't into her the same way she was into me. Just couldn't do it." He explains, eyes staring deep into yours. You believe him; you know he's being truthful.
"What made you decide to stay?" You ask.
"For Chaeryeong," he answers, "I couldn't just leave her like that. And for you, too."
Though you've felt it for many years, telling Heeseung you love him is too soon. But you want to, so very badly.
"I'm glad you decided to stay." Your voice is barely a whisper now as you try to stop yourself from tearing up.
He nods, "Me too."
You sit in comfortable silence for a minute, clutching each other's hands. You wish you could stay like this forever.
"I just realized you never told me if there's anything you're into." He points out.
You shrug, "Just you." And it's true: Heeseung is the only person you've ever been interested in. Everything he says and does is genuinely attractive to you.
He drops your hand gently, using it to tilt your head towards him, and he kisses you.
You're quick to cradle the back of his head as his hands snake around your waist, deepening the kiss. You move to straddle his lap, slowly pushing him onto his back. He grunts in surprise, breaking away from the kiss. "You—"
"Stop talking." You demand before your lips intertwine with his once again. With one hand on his chest, you reach to grab a fistful of his hair and tug lightly, earning a satisfied moan from him. You're not used to being rough with guys, but you're sure Heeseung enjoys it with the way his erection is pressing up against your thigh.
Reluctantly, you pull away from him and sit up, staring at him sprawled underneath you in complete awe. "Alright, I'll message you my number so we can text. See you later."
"No! No, no, no. Please don't go." He pleads, holding you in place when you go to stand, "Just stay a little longer, please."
You smile down at him, fighting the urge to stay in the treehouse. "I can't. Imogen is waiting out front. We'll see each other soon, okay?" You promise, planting a kiss on his forehead.
Heeseung nods, drumming against the floor as he watches you crawl out of the treehouse. "Don't be too surprised if I seem extra excited to see you next time." He calls after you.
"Trust me, I won't."
———
Heeseung is the first boy to ever sneak in through your bedroom window.
He carelessly tosses his backpack in first, cringing when it lands on your carpeted floor with a loud thud. Though you’ve assured him your parents are heavy sleepers, he’s still worried you’ll get in trouble if he makes too much noise and accidentally reveals himself. “Sorry,” he apologizes, hand gripping your forearm as you help pull him in.
“It’s fine,” you whisper back, “they’re not gonna wake up.”
“Still,” he grunts, using his upper body strength to pull him further into your room. “Don’t want you getting in trouble.”
It’s a day after the treehouse incident; as promised, you sent Heeseung your number and spent all day texting back and forth. Despite not being big on texting, you admire how Heeseung likes to keep you updated on what he’s doing and how he checks up on you to ensure you’re okay.
“We’ll be fine, but just in case, I did make room for you in my closet in case you have to hide.” You inform him.
Heeseung stifles a laugh, “Good to know.” He settles himself on the edge of your bed, moving over once he realizes he’d sat on a pile of clothing. “Oh, were you about to shower?”
“I was,” you answer, moving the clothing over to your nightstand, “but I’ll wait until after you leave.”
He has to stop himself from making a joke about joining you in the shower. He nods, leaning down to drag his backpack towards him, “Guess what I got today.”
“What?” You question, legs folded underneath your body as you sit beside him.
Heeseung slowly unzips his backpack, careful not to make too much noise before rummaging through it and clutching something in his hand. He momentarily turns his back towards you, clips something to his shirt, then turns back around.
There’s a name tag on his chest now with his name scribbled in black ink and a little star next to it. “A job?”
He nods, “At that music store, Spin City. Need to start saving up before classes start. Plus, I wanna take you out somewhere nice before summer’s over.”
You gulp, “Like, a date?”
“Yeah. I mean, unless… I don’t know. I just kinda figured…” He trails off, suddenly worried he may be scaring you off.
You grab ahold of his hand, “I know, and trust me, you’re perfect, and I want us to be together. But, the night we saw you at that party, I did ask Chaeryeong if she would be upset if I was into you. Surprisingly, she said she wouldn’t mind as long as I talked to her before making a move on you. And, well…”
“We made a move on each other without telling her,” Heeseung finishes for you.
You nod, “Exactly.”
He sighs, “So, I’m guessing that means you wanna wait before we make things official.”
“Yeah. No matter what, I still want to be with you. But it’d be best for all of us to get her on board with this first. Show her how much we truly care for each other, and make sure she’s okay with it. So she knows my relationship with you won’t affect our friendship, and vice versa.” You explain. Heeseung’s eyes never stray from yours, listening intently and nodding at everything you say.
“That’s fair,” he agrees, “It’s a good idea. Do you want me to talk to her? Or for us to talk to her together?”
You shake your head, “She’ll definitely freak out on you; it’s best if I do it alone first, then you talk to her afterward.”
Heeseung leans back against your bed, resting his head on your pillow. It’s funny how different your aesthetics are; he looks perfectly out of place, sprawled on your baby pink pillow surrounded by teddy bears. “When?”
“I dunno,” you respond, lowering yourself until your head rests comfortably on his bicep. “Doesn’t have to be right away. As long as it’s before we move into the dorms.”
“We shouldn’t wait too long, though. It’ll only make things worse.” Heeseung mumbles, pulling you closer to him.
“I know. I’ll have a talk with her soon, I promise.”
You interlock pinkies to solidify your promise and ease his nerves. You hadn’t realized how anxiety-inducing this was for Heeseung as well. The idea of Chaeryeong not approving of your relationship had him genuinely worried.
“But, you should know that no matter what—” he starts.
You cut him off, “I know.”
———
The hands that once purposely dumped slime in your hair are now tugging your panties down your legs.
“Can we try something?” Heeseung asks with a mumble against your lips, your soft blue underwear now clutched in the palm of his hand.
“Like what? I actually make you come for once?” You joke, earning a laugh from Heeseung.
“Don’t worry about me.” He presses another kiss against your lips, “You trust me?”
“Of course.” You respond, sitting up in Heeseung’s bed as he moves backward, never breaking eye contact with you. He pushes your skirt up slightly but pats your hand away when you go to remove it altogether.
“Leave it on.” He commands, bringing himself at face level with your cunt.
You’ve never felt this shy in your life, grateful your bunched-up skirt created the tiniest barrier between having Heeseung see you all flustered. Never had you been this intimate with a guy, especially not a guy you technically weren’t even dating.
His thumb is circling your clit before you have the time to protest, to tell him he doesn’t have to do this just for your sake, but the feeling of his fingers pressed against you has you at a loss for words.
“This okay?” He asks.
“Yeah.” You respond, tilting your head upwards to stare at the ceiling.
Before you know it, his middle and index fingers are pressed against your opening, eliciting a gasp from your lips. At your reaction, Heeseung slips his finger into your entrance, thumb still playing with your clit. He insists on being teasingly slow today, wanting to draw out every moment and observe your reaction.
He pumps his fingers in and out of you in a slow, consistent motion, an amused smirk on his lips when he hears your breathing become ragged. Abruptly, he slips his fingers out of you, moving your thighs to rest them atop his shoulders.
“Wait, you don’t have to—oh fuck.” You’re cut off by Heeseung pushing himself forward, placing a sudden kiss on your clit that has your hips jolting in the air. His hand grabs your waist and licks at your slit, keeping you in place as he gently returns your body to his mattress.
His growing erection is the last of his worries, all too focused on dragging his tongue across your cunt. He flattens his tongue, pulling the wetness upward until he’s circling your clit again. In search of something to grab onto, your hands grip the bed sheets until Heeseung reaches forward, moving your hand over to grip his hair.
His eyes are closed when you look down at him, and you swear you can hear him moan as he eats you out. You try your best to keep the noise down out of fear someone will hear, but you can’t help but yell out when he’s back to fingering you, all while circling your clit with his tongue.
Your grip on his hair tightens, pushing his face further into your pussy, and he lets out a satisfied groan. It’s embarrassing how quickly your orgasm approaches; everything with Heeseung is so intense. He knows this, eyes fluttering open to watch your expressions. Black eyeshadow is smeared across his eyelids as his eyes focus on your own, hands gripping your thighs as he tongue circles your clit.
His fingers are relentlessly pumping into your cunt now, contrasting against how teasingly slow his tongue is moving. He pulls his mouth away, lips glistening with your arousal, and asks, “You close?”
You don’t respond directly, but the grip you have on his hair gives him all the answers he needs before he’s diving back in. It doesn’t take much for you to come after that, a final kiss pressed on your clit, sending you over the edge and coating Heeseung’s fingers.
Heeseung doesn’t stop there, still continuing to lick and suck your clit until you’re begging him to stop from the overstimulation.
“Sorry.” He apologizes, planting a kiss on your inner thigh, “Was that good?”
“That was literally the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” You respond. Heeseung lets out a laugh as he crawls up next to you. “I should be upset with you, though.”
“What?” He questions, peppering your face with kisses, “Why’s that?”
“I came over to talk to your sister about us, and you distracted me.”
“How’d I do that?”
“Because! You came downstairs in your eyeshadow. Then you were all like, ‘Oh, hey. I cleaned my room; wanna check it out?’” You mimic a deep voice that sounds nothing like his.
“I apologize for putting on eyeshadow, bringing you to my room, and eating you out. Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?”
“I guess.”
You both laugh at this as you move to pull your skirt down. “Hey, how’d you realize you like it when girls are rough with you?”
Heeseung shakes his head as the memory returns to him, a shy smile on his face as he glances over at you. “A little while ago, I was picking on Chaeryeong for something. I don’t even remember why, but it got to the point where my parents were telling me to stop, and I wouldn’t. Then, you just started yelling at me out of nowhere, and I don’t know why, but it was the hottest thing ever. I was in awe. I really thought you were gonna slap me. Since then, it’s just been a turn-on of mine.”
“Wow. That’s actually kind of pathetic.” You tease.
He groans, “Please don’t say that. You’re gonna make me hard again.”
Laughter is shared between you once again before you lean your head down to rest on his chest, the sound of his steady heartbeat making you feel calm. A comfortable minute of silence passes before you have to address the unfortunate inevitable, “Chaeryeong should be here soon, right?”
“Yeah,” Heeseung mumbles, “within the next ten minutes.”
You sigh, “Next time I come over, I’ll have to tell her about us.”
———
The next time you stop by the Lee household, Heeseung has you bent over in the backseat of his car.
His finger digs into your waist as his cock is plunging into you at full force, emptying all the thoughts from your brain. You still haven’t fully adjusted to his size, but you don’t care; the pain of being split open makes you come faster. It feels better.
Heeseung insisted on taking things slow, telling you that you’d need to adjust to his size, but the moment you sunk your dripping cunt onto him, he was under your spell.
Your body lunges forward with every rough stroke Heeseung gives you, hands buried in your hair as he pulls you up against his chest. His hand moves from your hair down to your neck, tilting your head back while applying the slightest bit of pressure against your throat. Your eyes close out of instinct as tears form in the corner of your eyes before trickling down your cheeks. He kisses them away one by one before settling his lips on your neck. You make a mental note to check yourself for hickeys afterward.
You’re coming around him before you realize it, body spasming as you grip the driver’s seat headrest. Heeseung shows no signs of stopping or slowing down; in fact, he’s sped up even faster since fucking you through your orgasm. He lets go of your neck to push down on your back, left hand gripping your waist while the right intertwines your fingers with his.
A few strokes later, he’s finally coming and jokes about showing you the used condom as confirmation.
You shake your head, gesturing for him to pass you the shorts he’d tossed in the front seat. “I can’t believe I let you trick me again.”
“What?!” He exclaims in utter shock, reaching in the front seat to grab your discarded clothing, “How exactly did I trick you?”
“I came over to talk to Chaeryeong, but then you were all like, ‘Hey, come look at my car; I just got it washed.’” You playfully roll your eyes, searching around the backseat for your underwear.
“Can I keep these?” He asks suddenly, the most nonchalant expression on his face as your panties dangle from his middle finger.
You scoff, reaching to snatch them from him, confused when he retracts his hand. “I think I will keep them until you talk to Chaeryeong. Since it was you who wanted to talk to her first.”
“Then, I guess I’ll get them back tomorrow because I’m definitely talking to her today.”
Except you don’t.
You spent the entire summer sneaking around with Heeseung and procrastinating about having that talk with Chaeryeong. It was anxiety-inducing, to say the least, and you had no idea how she’d react. You tell yourself she won’t be upset as long as you assure her your friendship won’t be affected by you dating her brother.
You’re scheduled to move into the dorms within a few weeks, so it’s best to sort things out now before you all live under the same roof, unable to avoid one another. Heeseung doesn’t seem nervous at all. In fact, he’d given you a pep-talk the day before you showed up at their home.
“She can’t stay mad forever.” He pointed out, eyes sealed shut as you do his eyeliner.
“I know,” you mumbled, adjusting yourself on his lap, “but that girl can hold a grudge.”
“Right, but this is you we’re talking about. You mean a lot to her, to both of us, actually.”
His words play in your mind as you enter the Lee household, following Chaeryeong into the kitchen. “Baking something?” You ask, a sweet, decadent scent hitting your nose.
“Brownies for some stupid bake sale my parents are having. Help me clean up?” She asks, pouting her lips at you.
“Sure.” You agree, under the assumption that there wouldn’t be much to even clean up.
Boy, you were wrong. It’s like Chaeryeong used every dish in the house to make one sheet of brownies. There’s no backing out now; you already agreed to help, and it’d be best to stay on her good side for now.
She gets to work rinsing each dish before handing them to you to load the dishwasher, moving quickly to get everything done faster.
“What a beautiful friendship.” A familiar voice comments; you fight back a smile as Chaeryeong groans at her brother.
“You wouldn’t know; you don’t have any friends,” Chaeryeong responds, laughing at her words.
“Neither will you, soon,” Heeseung whispers back, groaning when you swat him in the chest. “Any brownie batter left?”
“None for you. Shouldn’t you be at work?” Chaeryeong asks, handing you another dish.
Chaeryeong takes a break from rinsing off the dishes to bicker with Heeseung for a minute. You tune out from the conversation, dipping your fingers into the leftover batter bowl and gathering the chocolate on your fingers.
“I’m leaving, I’m leaving,” Heeseung says. When Chaeryeong finally directs her attention elsewhere, Heeseung takes the opportunity to grab your wrist, bringing your fingers up to his lips before sucking the chocolate off them.
Your eyes practically bulge out of your head, nervously glancing behind you to ensure Chaeryeong hadn’t seen anything. You swat at Heeseung’s chest for the second time, and he laughs as if you’re being overly dramatic. It’s odd how surprisingly calm he is about everything. His demeanor would have worried you if you didn’t trust him so much.
Heeseung wipes the renaming bit of chocolate around his lips before mouthing ‘Good luck.’ You give him a nervous smile, watching as he slips past Chaeryeong and leaves out the front door. You get back to work, making small talk with Chaeryeong as you help her load the dishwasher.
It’s now or never.
“So,” you start, “we’re gonna be living together soon.”
Chaeryeong smiles, “Finally! God, I can’t wait to have some freedom. My stupid curfew is a major cock-block. Right when things are finally getting good on a date, I have to go back home. So fucking frustrating. There’s literally cobwebs in my vagina.”
You snort, loading the final dish into the washer. “Well, you won’t have that problem anymore.”
“I know. And maybe you’ll even find someone worthy even to date you.” Chaeryeong jokes, hopping on the kitchen counter.
“Uh, what if I already have found someone…worthy enough?” You question, pressing a few buttons to get the dishwasher going.
“As if.”
“Chaeryeong, I’m serious.”
She sighs, still not buying your confession. “Alright then, who is it?”
“...Your brother.”
A beat of silence passes, and then Chaeryeong doubles over in laughter, nearly slipping off the counter several times in a matter of seconds. It takes her a minute to catch her breath, clutching her collar for support as she regulates her breathing; even tears are forming in her eyes. “Holy fuck, can you imagine? You and my brother? Jesus Christ.”
“Look, there isn’t an easy way to say this, but we really do like each other. We’ve been…together this whole summer. Well, not officially; I didn’t want to put a label on anything without talking to you about it first.” You finally confess. The weight on your shoulders doesn’t immediately drop as you expected; it’s like the load has gotten heavier.
Chaeryeong has a blank expression as she stares at you, eyes darting around the kitchen as she processes the information. “You’re serious?”
You nod.
She shakes her head, eyes closed as she asks,“What kind of friend are you? You’re that desperate for a boyfriend you go after the only boy you know? My brother?”
Fuck.
“Chaeryeong, please, let me—”
She cuts you off, hopping off the counter and inching towards you. “So, what? All this time, you were using me to get close to Heeseung? Out of every fucking guy on the planet? Ones that have spent years throwing themself at you?”
“No! Of course not! Chaeryeong, I never even imagined myself in a relationship with him until this summer, I swear!” Your voice trembles as Chaeryeong approaches you.
“Oh, really? You expect me to believe that, huh? So it’s just a coincidence that you guys suddenly got together right before we’re all gonna be living in the same building?”
“I know it doesn’t sound great, but—”
“I think you should go.” Chaeryeong cuts you off calmly, her sudden change in demeanor shocking you. A moment ago, she looked angry enough to hit you, but now, she seems a few seconds away from breaking down in tears.
You nod understandably, telling Chaeryeong to take all the time she needs and to call you when she’s ready to talk.
She doesn’t say a word as you exit her house, and you wonder if you’ve just lost the best friend you’ve ever had.
———
“I’ve never seen her this angry, Heeseung. I thought she was gonna hit me or something.” You groan, ear pressed up against your phone as you rant to Heeseung.
It's been a few hours since you left Chaeryeong’s house; Heeseung had promised to call you during his break to hear how the conversation went. You’re still shaking as the memories flood back to you, how your best friend in the world accused you of using her. What a fucking joke.
“She’ll get over it, trust me. Y’know, before I called you, she spent five minutes yelling at me over the phone. Five fucking minutes, and I just took it. She’ll be fine.” He says, following up with a loud slurping noise that suggests Heeseung has chosen to have ramen for lunch.
It’s astonishing how calm he’s managed to stay this entire time.
You flip over on the couch, head resting on the armrest as you stare at the ceiling. “I just don’t wanna lose her. She’s a fireball, for sure, but she’s my fireball. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”
“I just told you you’re not gonna be without her, okay?”
“...Okay.”
There’s a knock at your front door, most likely from the pizza delivery Heeseung had sent to your house.
“I gotta go. The food is here. Are you still stopping by after your shift?”
“Of course. You gonna be alright?”
“Yeah,” you stand, making your way to the front door. “I’ll save you some pizza.”
He chuckles at that, “You better. I’ll see you later, okay? I love you.”
He what?
“You what?” You pause, hand on the doorknob.
“I love you, and I’ll see you later.” He hangs up.
You don’t have time to process his words; the knocking at your front door happens again.
Twisting the knob, you’re met with Chaeryeong staring back at you. “Chaeryeong? What’re you—”
“I don’t care if you date Heeseung.” She claims, storming through your front door, “If you guys want to be together, then I’m not standing in the way. But I will not be your friend if you date him, so it’s either him or me.”
You follow Chaeryeong into your living room, your pulse quickening upon hearing her ultimatum. “Chaeryeong, that’s not—”
“Before you choose…as a girl, and as your friend, I have to be completely honest with you.” She sighs, fingers nervously raking through her hair as she sits on your couch. “I called Heeseung after you left, and he talked to me about you guys.”
You nod, taking a seat next to her. “Okay, and…?”
She sighs again, taking your hand in her own. “Everything he’s ever told you was a lie.”
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yeostinys · 3 months ago
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Cry For Me (Trilogy)
Final part
Pairing: DomCEO!Hongjoong x SubSecretary!Reader
Genre: Smut 18+, Angst, light fluff
Notes: Dacryphilia (y/n is a major cry baby), mentions of cheating (don’t do it yall, this is just fiction), Unprotected sex (please wrap it up, don’t do this irl), creampie, oral sex, masturbation, explicit language, slight violence (not from Hongjoong). blindfold sex. slight impregnation kink.
Word Count: 13k
Authors note: This is pure horny imagination and in NO WAY, reflects on the characters in real life! If you do not like this type of content pls ignore or block me.
Pt. 1 | Pt. 2
————————————————————————
After that heated night with Hongjoong, a shift settled over the office. The anticipation of the upcoming Exhibition cast a palpable tension in the air, and both of you were swept up in a whirlwind of preparations. Your inbox was inundated with questions and requests, each email demanding your immediate attention. In addition to your regular duties, you found yourself tasked with organizing final report meetings for each department—a crucial step for Hongjoong to review and approve before the big day.
Yet, as busy as you were, you couldn’t shake the feeling of missing him. Hongjoong’s workload was heavier than ever; he was frequently out of the office, darting between the Exhibition building and press conferences. You had grown so accustomed to his presence, both at work and outside of it, that the silence of his absence felt almost deafening. You tried to keep your focus, shoving aside the longing that threatened to distract you as you worked diligently to meet your deadlines.
“Hello, Miss Y/N,” a cheerful voice broke through your thoughts. You looked up to find Haeun standing there, her smile bright and two steaming coffee cups in her hands.
“Hello, Miss Lee,” you replied, returning her smile but feeling a hint of unease bubble beneath the surface.
“Is Mr. Kim in his office? I had a few questions for him and I also got him coffee,” she asked, glancing hopefully toward Hongjoong’s office door.
You pressed your lips into a thin line, forcing a smile that felt more like a mask. “No, he’s not in right now. He’s at the Exhibition building preparing for tomorrow,” you said, your tone calm despite the annoyance simmering within.
Haeun’s shoulders dropped slightly, and she cast her gaze downward, disappointment etched on her features. “Ahh, I see—”
“Whatever your message is, I can go ahead and relay it to him,” you offered, attempting to sound genuinely helpful while hoping she wouldn’t catch the edge of sarcasm that laced your words.
“No, it’s okay. I’ll just wait for him,” she replied, her voice soft as she bowed her head slightly before turning to walk away.
You bit your lip, feeling a flicker of irritation. As you closed your eyes for a moment, trying to collect your thoughts, a question nagged at you: why was Haeun so intent on seeking out Hongjoong? It wasn’t just professionalism that kept her lingering around his office. Most of your colleagues would have passed their messages through you without a second thought, but Haeun seemed to circumvent the usual channels, consistently finding excuses to approach him directly.
With a sigh, you returned to your screen, determined to push aside the thoughts that threatened to derail your concentration. Yet the unease lingered, a quiet whisper in the back of your mind as you dived back into your work, longing for the familiar rhythm of your days with Hongjoong by your side.
Hours stretched on, the clock ticking slowly as you counted down to your much-anticipated hour break. The office felt almost suffocating without Hongjoong's presence; he still hadn’t returned from his seemingly endless meetings. As the minutes dragged, an urge tugged at you—just to hear his voice again.
You pulled out your phone and navigated to his contact, your fingers hovering over the call button for a moment before you pressed it. The line rang for a while, until finally—
“Hey there, Pretty,” Hongjoong’s tender voice flooded your ear, warm and familiar. Your heart swelled at the sound, a rush of affection washing over you.
“Hey,” you replied softly, a smile spreading across your face as you settled back in your chair, feeling the tension begin to melt away.
“Everything okay?” he asked, his tone laced with concern.
“Mm, yeah,” you assured him, fiddling with the pen in your hand. “Just miss you. I’m on my hour break right now.”
“I miss you too, baby,” he sighed, the weariness in his voice unmistakable. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the Exhibition opening ceremony. I still have to meet up with another investor, so I probably won’t make it back to the office today.”
His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of his stress. “It’s okay, just go straight home afterwards and rest,” you said softly, wanting to ease his burden even just a little.
“Yeah, I will. And you, please don’t stay too late at the office,” he replied, his voice gentle yet firm, as if he could sense your tendency to push yourself too hard.
“Okay,” you promised, feeling a flicker of warmth at his concern.
“I have to go now, Pretty. I’ll talk to you later,” Hongjoong said, his voice lingering in your mind like a sweet melody.
“Talk to you later,” you echoed, and the line ended.
———
As you step into your apartment, the weight of the past week begins to lift. You kick off your heels, feeling the cool floor beneath your bare feet, and make your way to the sanctuary of your bed.
Returning to your apartment each night has become a solitary routine, yet it’s a routine you find comfort in. You’re not lonely; you’re content. Hongjoong’s passion for his work radiates through his messages, reminding you that even amidst the flurry, you are always on his mind.
The familiar ping of your phone draws your attention. A message from Hongjoong lights up the screen:
Joongie <3: Just finished my last meeting. I’ll let you know I’m home
A smile unfurls across your face as you read his words. You feel a warmth inside, a flicker of excitement at the thought of spending time together. You slip out of your clothes, your nightly routine a practiced dance, and soon you’re refreshed and relaxed.
Once your skin feels cool from the shower, you wander into the kitchen, ready to prepare a quick snack. The soft glow of the overhead lights envelops you in a tranquil ambiance as you settle onto the couch with a book, letting the words draw you into their world. Suddenly, a sharp breaks the silence.
You turn your head, curiosity piquing your interest. Who could possibly be visiting at this hour? A smile creeps back onto your lips as you hope it might be Hongjoong. Rising from the couch, you smooth down your shirt and tousle your hair, preparing for the moment you’ve been waiting for.
But when you open the door, your heart sinks.
“S—Siwoo? What are you doing here?” The question escapes your lips, laced with confusion and a sudden spike of adrenaline. It’s been over a month since you last saw him, and the disheveled state he’s in sends a jolt of apprehension through you.
“Can I come in?” His tone is casual, but you sense an underlying tension.
“No, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you reply softly, instinctively stepping back behind the door. You’ve barely finished your sentence when Siwoo’s hand slams against the wood, startling you.
“Are you messing around with your boss?” The accusation hangs in the air like a storm cloud, and your heart plummets at the words. His eyes are wild, red-rimmed, and filled with something that feels dangerously close to madness.
“What does it matter to you?” you retort, trying to maintain your composure.
“That’s quite dirty of you,” he laughs bitterly, the sound scraping against your nerves.
“Is that why you fucken left me?” Your voice trembles, yet you refuse to back down.
“You need to leave,” you insist, crossing your arms in a futile gesture of defiance.
Siwoo steps closer, and you freeze, his presence invading your space.
“Want to know how I found out?” He leans in, his voice low and threatening. “someone saw you two making out in the meeting room…”
You recoil at his words, feeling the weight of betrayal pressing down on your chest. “Are you fucken stalking me?” Your voice raises in disgust,
“You’re a whore, Y/N,” he spits out, slamming his fist against the door. You flinch at the sound, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes.
“You say that as if you didn’t cheat on me,” you shoot back, your glare fierce even as you fight to keep your emotions in check.
“Get over yourself, Y/N,” he snaps.
“I hope you’re happy with him.” His voice drips with sarcasm as he turns to leave.
“I am,” you declare defiantly, the words escaping before you can think.
But he spins around, anger igniting in his gaze. You quickly shut the door, locking it just as his fist meets the wood again, the sound reverberating through your chest.
“No one makes you happier than me, Y/N!” he bellows, and panic floods your senses.
Tears slip down your cheeks as you crouch down, the adrenaline leaving you shaken. Silence wraps around you like a blanket after his final strike against the door. You pull your knees to your chest, trying to steady your breathing.
In that moment, you reach for your phone, scrolling through your contacts until you find Hongjoong’s name. Hesitation grips you; it’s late, and you don’t want to disturb him, he’s already feeling so much stress lately. Instead, you let the silence envelop you, the shadows of your apartment pressing in, leaving you in a swirling storm of emotions.
———
The morning sun filtered through your curtains, but the clock on your bedside table betrayed the time—it was far later than you had intended to wake. Panic gripped you as you bolted upright, the remnants of sleep quickly fading into a rush of urgency. The Exhibition building loomed in your mind like an impending deadline, one you could not afford to miss.
You scrambled through your morning routine, splashing cold water on your face in a desperate bid to shake off the remnants of a restless night. Your encounter with Siwoo haunted you, the unsettling conversation replaying endlessly in your thoughts, keeping sleep at bay.
Finally dressed—you rushed to hail a taxi, your heart racing as you gave the driver your destination. Your phone buzzed with notifications, and you glanced at the screen to see several missed messages from Hongjoong, each one amplifying your anxiety. “Where are you?” “Are you okay?” The words blurred together as frustration boiled inside you. You cursed under your breath, willing the taxi to speed through the congested streets. Quickly, you typed a reply: “Stuck in traffic. I’ll be there soon.”
When the taxi finally screeched to a halt in front of the Exhibition building, you practically leaped out, grateful that the opening ceremony hadn’t started yet. You dashed inside, weaving through the crowd, your heart pounding with each hurried step. As you entered the lobby, the buzz of voices surrounded you—colleagues mingling, laughter echoing off the high ceilings.
There he was—Hongjoong—standing with a group of organizers. The sight of him anchored you momentarily, but the weight of your anxiety still loomed large. When your eyes met, relief washed over his features, and he approached you with an unmistakable sense of concern.
“Miss Y/N,” he said, his voice warm yet edged with worry. “I’m glad to see you.”
“Hello, Mr. Kim,” you replied, bowing slightly, the formality a brief shield against your inner turmoil. He excused himself from the conversation, pulling you aside as a flicker of worry crossed his face.
“Are you okay? You never run late. Did something happen?” His voice dropped to a quiet tone, the intimacy of his concern making your heart race.
You looked down, trying to gather your thoughts. “Yeah,” you sighed, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t get much sleep last night, and the traffic was terrible.” Each word felt like a confession, a release of the stress you’d been holding. “Is there anything I can do to help? I know we open soon.”
He shook his head, a gentle smile breaking through his concern. “No, it’s okay. Haeun and a few others are finishing the last display room.”
At the mention of Haeun, a sharp pang of unease shot through you, tightening your chest. You nodded, forcing a smile that felt strained. “Right. Of course.” The name lingered in your mind like a shadow, darkening the moment.
“I have to go,” he said, his hand lingering on your arm for a brief moment, grounding you. “I’ll see you at the front for the opening.” With that, he turned away, his smile still radiating warmth, leaving you caught between the chaos of the day and the storm brewing inside you.
You cleared your throat, the sound echoing slightly in the hallway as you steeled yourself for the bustling atmosphere of the conference room ahead. Taking a deep breath, you straightened your blouse and smoothed down your skirt, determined to shake off the disquiet that had plagued you since last night.
As you entered the conference room, a wave of energy washed over you. Colleagues filled the space, their voices mingling in a lively buzz as they prepared for the opening ceremony. You found your designated seat, a small island of calm amid the excitement, and pulled out the itinerary, hoping to distract yourself from the racing thoughts that refused to settle.
The ceremony began, and all eyes turned to Hongjoong as he stepped up to the podium. With a charismatic presence that filled the room, he launched into his speech, effortlessly commanding attention. You couldn’t help but smile softly as he spoke, his confidence radiating and infectious. The presentation unfolded smoothly, and he introduced the highly anticipated theme for the exhibition, capturing the audience’s enthusiasm.
As the crowd erupted into applause, you felt a swell of pride for the event's success. The doors of the exhibition swung open, welcoming an influx of important figures, investors, and eager members of the public. Your role quickly shifted as you focused on ensuring that each department followed protocol and adhered to the schedule.
Glancing across the room, you spotted Hongjoong surrounded by higher-ups and colleagues, all congratulating him with hearty handshakes and praise. Your gaze fell on Haeun, her smile radiant as she bowed gracefully to those around her. But then, the moment took an unexpected turn. Instead of exchanging congratulatory handshakes, Haeun leaned in, her movements light and unassuming, and hugged Hongjoong.
The sight struck you like a punch to the gut. Hongjoong’s expression shifted from surprise to a vague awkwardness as he tapped her shoulder, clearly caught off guard by her gesture. A rush of irritation flooded through you, twisting into jealousy that simmered just below the surface. Why did she feel so comfortable with him?
“Miss Y/N, we need assistance with this,” a fellow colleague called, pulling you from your thoughts. You forced a smile, though it felt brittle, and nodded, following them away from the unfolding scene.
As you walked away, you glanced back at Hongjoong, who was searching the crowd for you. His gaze landed on you just as you turned to leave, and you could see the faint sigh of disappointment escape him. The moment hung in the air, filled with unspoken tension, before he was pulled back into conversations with important figures, the excitement of the event overshadowing the moment between you.
The rest of the day unfolded in a whirlwind of activity. The exhibition was a resounding success, with a full house exceeding even the most optimistic expectations for the opening day. Everywhere you looked, faces were illuminated with excitement, laughter echoing through the halls. Yet amidst the hustle and bustle, you hardly saw Hongjoong. He was swept up in conversations with important figures, while you navigated your own responsibilities, making sure everything ran smoothly.
Inside, you could sense Hongjoong’s exhaustion; the constant social interactions wore him down, and you could almost feel his desire to retreat from the crowd and share a moment of solitude with you. But the overwhelming buzz of the event kept you apart, and despite your best efforts to push away thoughts of Siwoo and Haeun, they lingered in the back of your mind like dark clouds, threatening to overshadow the day’s success.
As the final guests trickled out of the building, you offered heartfelt bows of gratitude to those who attended, your voice a blend of professionalism and warmth. The security guard swiftly locked the front doors, signaling the day’s end. Team members began closing up the exhibition, readying it for another day of activity. A sigh of relief escaped you as you turned to head back to the conference room to gather your things.
You moved slowly, fatigue settling into your bones. Just as you were about to leave, you looked up and saw Hongjoong standing before you, a soft smile breaking through the weariness of the day.
“Hey,” he said, his voice warm.
“Hi,” you replied, your smile tinged with exhaustion.
“Let me gather my stuff; let’s go home together,” he whispered, taking your hand gently in his. You nodded, feeling a small rush of comfort as you watched him turn to collect his belongings.
The walk to his car was filled with an unspoken tension that felt more tiresome than awkward. Hongjoong tapped his fingers rhythmically against the steering wheel, the soft music playing in the background providing a gentle soundtrack to your quiet. The world outside blurred by, the streets illuminated by the fading light of day.
“I didn’t get to say congratulations earlier…” you finally broke the silence, your voice barely above a whisper. Hongjoong turned to meet your gaze, curiosity sparking in his eyes.
“Congratulations, Hongjoong. Everything turned out beautiful,” you said, allowing a small smile to surface.
His expression shifted to one of awe, and he smiled back softly. “Thank you, baby.” His voice was tender as he reached across the console to grasp your hand, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over your skin. The warmth of his touch wrapped around you, anchoring you in the moment.
The car ride continued in a peaceful silence, his hand never leaving yours, a silent promise hanging in the air between you.
When you arrived at your apartment, Hongjoong parked on the curb and turned to you, his eyes reflecting a mix of warmth and affection. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.
“Do you…” You looked up at him with your doe eyes, “I mean… can you stay for a while?” The words slipped out, tinged with vulnerability, feeling an ache in your heart, your voice quivering slightly.
Hongjoong’s expression softened at your request. “Yeah, of course,” he replied, his voice a whisper as he cupped your cheek and leaned in for another kiss—this one lingering, a sweet connection that sent warmth flooding through you.
He maneuvered the car into a proper parking spot, and together you walked hand in hand up to your apartment complex, the silence between you comfortable.
As you stepped into your apartment, Hongjoong followed you to your bedroom.
Approaching your closet, you pulled out a few of Hongjoong's spare clothes—soft T-shirts and sweatpants that carried his scent. You handed them to him, a small gesture that felt significant. Both of you changed in comfortable silence, the weight of the day beginning to lift as you slipped into something more relaxed.
Once changed, you settled onto the bed, the mattress cradling your tired body. Instinctively, you curled into Hongjoong’s arms, seeking solace in his presence. His warmth wrapped around you, and you rested your head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath you. You sighed deeply, relief flooding through you, though your exhaustion was overshadowed by a restless mind.
“Hongjoong…” you began softly, fiddling nervously with the fabric of his T-shirt. He hummed in response, an encouraging sound that urged you to continue. “Do you… like Haeun?” The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken insecurities.
Hongjoong chuckled lightly, caught off guard by your unexpected inquiry. He shifted to look at you, propping himself up on one elbow, allowing your head to settle on the pillow instead of his chest.
“What kind of question is that, Y/N?” he asked, his voice low and teasing, but there was concern in his eyes as he brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
You averted your gaze, the weight of your thoughts pressing down on you. “I saw her hug you…” you mumbled, staring at your fingers as they twisted together anxiously. “And… you’ve been asking for her assistance a lot.” The words felt like a confession, raw and vulnerable.
“Y/N, look at me,” Hongjoong urged gently, his hand caressing your cheek. Reluctantly, you lifted your gaze to meet his. The seriousness in his expression made your heart flutter with both fear and hope.
“I do not like Haeun,” he declared firmly, his eyes locking onto yours. “I don’t go seeking her out; she inserts herself into things. That hug? It was unexpected, and I didn’t know she was going to do that.” He took a deep breath, his tone softening. “I’ll have her manager talk to her about professionalism. You know that the only assistance I want is from you.”
At his words, your heart swelled, but tears threatened to spill over. “Hey… what’s going on? Talk to me, baby,” he cooed, concern etched across his features as he reached up to wipe away your tears.
“I just…” you choked on your words, feeling the emotions surge. “I’m sorry for being a crybaby about this. I know today was important, and I feel like I’m ruining it by bringing this up,” you confessed, your voice trembling.
“Y/N, you don’t have anything to be sorry about,” he reassured you, his tone steady. “Thank you for telling me how you feel. I promise I’ll make sure her manager puts her in check. And don’t you worry—because you are the only one I care about.” He leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead, the gesture soothing your racing heart.
“I’m all yours, baby,” he whispered softly as he pulled you back into his chest, cradling you against him. In that moment, wrapped in his warmth and sincerity, you felt a sense of peace settle over you, the earlier worries fading into the background.
———
As the days unfolded seamlessly, the exhibition remained a vibrant spectacle for the public. The buzz of visitors filled the air, their excited chatter blending with the soft hum of conversations among staff. Back in the office, life resumed its familiar cadence, the usual rhythm of daily tasks bringing a sense of normalcy. Colleagues flowed in and out, each taking turns to ensure the exhibition’s smooth operation, their laughter and discussions punctuating the usual office sounds.
Hongjoong, too, had become a near-permanent fixture at the exhibition, his presence almost a comfort. He appeared only in the mornings, a fleeting glimpse before he vanished into the vibrant chaos of the displays and the throngs of visitors.
After your conversation with him that night, a weight had lifted from your shoulders. Although the incident with Siwoo lingered at the back of your mind, you felt a sense of guilt that you hadn’t shared the details with Hongjoong. Siwoo had yet to pose any real threat, and you didn’t want to burden Hongjoong with worries that might lead to unnecessary complications.
Pulling away from your thoughts, you decided to take a break momentarily. You glance at your phone and see a message from Hongjoong.
Joongie <3: An investor wants to meet over dinner tonight at 6pm to discuss potential future plans after this exhibition. I need you there.
Joongie <3: And I’ll finally get to see that pretty face of yours.
You smile at the messages
Y/N: I’ll be there. I’ll meet you at the exhibition.
You shut off your phone and rise from your seat. You made your way to the coffee break room, looking forward to a moment of respite. As you made your way to the open door, you caught a snippet of conversation that made you pause. The unmistakable voice of Lee Haeun floated through the air.
“My fucken manager just lectured me about professionalism,” Lee Haeun said, her voice dripping with mock indignation. “All because I hugged the CEO at the exhibition opening ceremony.”
You froze, instinctively pressing your back against the wall just outside the coffee break room. Haeun was on her cellphone, speaking quietly, but the stillness of the office allowed you to catch every word.
“No, honestly! I was just congratulating him,” she continued, a conspiratorial giggle escaping her lips. “How can I get promoted unless I show some affection? If you know what I mean.”
Your eyes widened in disbelief. Haeun’s tone was playful yet calculating, and you felt a knot tightening in your stomach as you leaned in closer, unable to tear yourself away from her words.
“I don’t care if I always do that,” she scoffed. “I already slept with the prof to get the best grades, and look where it got me. I don’t even have my degree yet! I just need the CEO now”
A wave of anxiety washed over you, but your feet felt rooted to the ground. You wanted to walk away, to distance yourself from this unsettling conversation, yet something compelled you to stay and listen.
“Anyways, the CEO is playing hard to get. Although I think it’s because he’s probably fucking his secretary,” she added, laughter lacing her voice. Your heart sank.
“No, seriously, I saw them making out. And you’ll never guess who she is…”
“Professor Siwoo’s now ex-girlfriend,” Haeun whispered, her voice tinged with glee. “Right?! What a coincidence that I keep fucking her men to excel in my career.”
A chill ran down your spine. Haeun was the one who Siwoo cheated on you with. Haeun was the one who had told Siwoo about your relationship with Hongjoong. Now, it seemed she had set her sights on Hongjoong, all in pursuit of her ambitions. The realization hit you like a physical blow.
“Well, no, I haven’t fucked the CEO yet, but I think I’m close,” she chuckled, and the sound felt like ice water pooling in your veins. Your face drained of color as you processed what you had just overheard. She was scheming, manipulating those around her to climb the corporate ladder.
You felt sick, the implications of her words swirling in your mind. Without thinking, you turned and hurried back to your desk, your heart racing. You tried to maintain your composure, but the chaos inside you made it difficult. As you fidgeted with the papers on your desk, you fought to push the dark thoughts aside, the weight of Haeun’s intentions pressing heavily on your chest.
You need to tell Hongjoong. You have to, but the thought of how to approach him twists in your stomach like a knot. Haeun, with her seemingly flawless skills on the marketing team, has gained his appreciation, but beneath her polished exterior lies a darker reality. Her intentions are anything but innocent; she’s been causing trouble that ripples through the entire company. A wave of anger washes over you, surging in your chest like a tide. You can't let her get away with this.
Hours drag on as you throw yourself into your work, fingers flying over the keyboard as you finish files and set future schedules. Yet your mind is preoccupied, a cacophony of thoughts swirling around how to confront Hongjoong. You glance at the clock, you have to meet Hongjoong soon at the exhibition before heading out to the dinner. In doing so, you began gathering your things, and with each movement you can’t help but recall Haeun’s saccharine demeanor, the anger within you bubbles up anew.
Then, as if summoned by your thoughts, Haeun appears. She strides toward your desk, her confidence radiating like a spotlight, but instead of acknowledging you, she breezes past and heads directly for Hongjoong’s office. A flicker of irritation shoots through you.
She knocks on the door, her voice dripping with that infuriatingly sweet tone. “Mr. Kim?” When there’s no response, she knocks again, the sound echoing in the quiet office.
You can’t help but scoff under your breath. “Mr. Kim isn’t in his office today, Miss Lee,” you call out, leaning slightly forward in your chair. She turns to you, her smile a veneer of sweetness that doesn’t reach her eyes.
“Oh, haha, sorry! I just wanted to check for myself,” she replies, scrunching her nose in faux innocence.
“Whatever you need to tell him, I can relay the message,” you say, attempting to maintain an air of politeness despite your simmering irritation.
“Why do you always say that?” Haeun scoffs, laughing as if you’ve told her the world’s most absurd joke. You raise an eyebrow, amused at her audacity.
“If you’ve forgotten, Miss Lee, I am his secretary. It’s my job to handle these things,” you reply, keeping your tone calm.
“Right,” she says, sarcasm lacing her words. That’s it. You can’t hold back any longer. You push your chair back and stand up, meeting her gaze with a glare.
“Miss Lee, I suggest you work on your professionalism in this office. Don’t forget that I am your superior,” you state firmly, the weight of your position fueling your confidence. She rolls her eyes and turns to walk away, but your frustration spills over.
“On top of that—” you call after her. Haeun turns back, her expression unimpressed.
“I heard everything you said in the coffee room,” you declare, the words tumbling out before you can second-guess them. Her eyes widen, a flicker of annoyance crossing her face.
“You’re talking about professionalism when you’re over here eavesdropping?!” she fires back, cutting you off.
“It’s not eavesdropping if you’re speaking loudly enough for the whole floor to hear,” you retort, kind of exaggerating but you don’t care as your irritation is sharpening.
“Miss Lee, if you don’t want to get fired, I suggest you get your act together and reconsider how you present yourself in this office. Trying to sleep with Mr. Kim isn’t going to work,” you say, crossing your arms defiantly.
Her laughter is chilling. “Why? That’s what you’re doing aren’t you? I bet that’s the reason why Siwoo kept coming to me for sex instead of you” She smirks and shoots you a dirty look that only fuels your resolve.
“Unlike you, I don’t sleep around with higher-ups to get what I want. I have self-respect. I worked hard to get where I am today, and it’s obvious you didn’t. Siwoo is a piece of trash that you just happened to fall into. I atleast got out.” You step forward, every word a declaration of your integrity. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a dinner meeting to attend with Mr. Kim,” you say, brushing past her with a confidence that comes from standing your ground. The click of your heels on the floor echoes your anger, a sound of determination as you walk away from the confrontation, knowing you’ve said what needed to be said.
———
You hailed a taxi, the yellow vehicle pulling to a stop at the curb, its engine rumbling softly as you climbed inside. The city outside blurred by, a rush of color and sound that contrasted sharply with the turmoil churning within you. Anger simmered just beneath the surface, a boiling pot you struggled to contain as the driver navigated the bustling streets toward the exhibition building.
As the taxi came to a halt, you stepped out, the cool air hitting your face like a splash of cold water. You took a moment to gather your thoughts, breathing deeply, but the tension remained, coiling tightly in your chest.
Your eyes caught sight of Hongjoong standing outside the building, his charismatic presence commanding attention. He was engaged in conversation, shaking hands with several people who wore suits that screamed success. They laughed, shared pleasantries, and after a few moments, they dispersed, leaving him alone. As if sensing your gaze, he turned, a smirk spreading across his face, and for a brief second, it felt as though the world had slowed down. Yet, despite his warm demeanor, you couldn’t muster a smile in return. The weight of your emotions hung heavy, clouding your thoughts. With a deep breath, you approached him, determined to put on a brave face.
“Hey, baby~” he greeted, his hands instinctively wrapping around your waist, his eyes sweeping over you with that familiar mix of affection and mischief.
“Hey,” you replied quickly, avoiding his gaze.
His expression shifted, concern flickering in his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
You hesitated, the words stuck in your throat. “Nothing… I’ll tell you later.” You sighed, your hand finding the back of his neck, a gesture meant to comfort both him and yourself.
“You sure?” he asked, his eyebrow arching in skepticism. You nodded, forcing a semblance of reassurance.
“Let’s go.” you say softly.
Together, you made your way to his car, the sleek vehicle reflecting the evening lights. As you settled into the passenger seat, silence enveloped you both. You couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the pit of your stomach. You resolved to keep your thoughts to yourself for now, planning to wait until the meeting concluded.
The drive felt like an eternity. You glanced out the window, watching the city lights blur together as they passed. Finally, you arrived at the restaurant, its exterior exuding elegance. You both stepped inside, the atmosphere rich with the scent of gourmet dishes and the soft hum of polite conversation.
You took a seat beside Hongjoong, pulling out your notes, your mind shifting into professional mode. The investors began to arrive, and as they entered, you stood to shake hands, your professional mask firmly in place. The meeting commenced, and the conversation flowed around you—discussions filled with jargon, high-end meals, and clinking champagne flutes.
For the next hour, you sat mostly silent, your focus razor-sharp yet scattered. While others spoke and laughed, you found yourself distracted, your thoughts drifting back to the emotions you had tried so hard to suppress. All you could think about was the moment this meeting would end, and you could finally share what was weighing on your heart with Hongjoong.
As the last few guests trickled out of the restaurant, their laughter fading into the night, Hongjoong effortlessly settled the tab, his movements smooth and confident. You took a long, satisfying gulp of the champagne, the bubbles tickling your throat, and let out a deep sigh that spoke of both relief and frustration.
Hongjoong caught the sound, his gaze sharpening as he tucked his black card back into his wallet, his expression shifting to one of concern. “You ready?” he asked, his voice low and intent, eyes searching yours for an answer. You nodded, but it felt like a half-hearted response, so you took another swig of your drink to mask the turmoil inside you.
“Waiter, can I get a bottle of this champagne to go, please?” Hongjoong called, waving down a server with a charming smile. “Just put it on the same card I used.” The server nodded and made his way to the bar, leaving you puzzled.
“Why are you getting another bottle?” You frowned, confusion knitting your brows together.
Hongjoong leaned closer, his presence warm and reassuring. “Something is clearly stressing you. We can head back to my place, relax, and talk it over with some champagne.” His hand found your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze that sent a wave of comfort through you, even as the heaviness in your chest lingered.
Moments later, the server returned, the expensive bottle glinting under the soft restaurant lights. He bowed slightly as he handed it over, and Hongjoong’s smile widened, a flicker of delight breaking through your own tension. He took the bottle and intertwined his fingers with yours, anchoring you in the moment.
“Let’s go home,” he said softly, his voice a soothing balm against the chaos in your mind. You rose from your seat, the weight of the evening still heavy but beginning to shift as you followed him, hand in hand.
———
Hongjoong guided you to his spacious living room, the atmosphere cozy and inviting. Warm lamps cast a soft glow that enveloped you both as he set the champagne bottle down on the polished coffee table. The room smelled faintly of citrus and leather, remnants of his day lingering in the air. With a brief nod, he disappeared into the kitchen, returning moments later with two glasses and a bottle opener, his movements fluid and confident.
You sank into the plush, oversized couch, your legs propped comfortably to the side. Pulling the soft throw blanket that rested nearby over your shoulders, you settled in, seeking warmth and comfort. You watched as Hongjoong effortlessly twisted the bottle cap, the satisfying pop echoing in the quiet room. He poured the golden liquid into the glasses, his focused demeanor drawing your eyes to the way his shirt hugged his frame, emphasizing his handsome features.
He handed you a glass, his fingers brushing against yours, sending a spark of warmth through you. With a knowing smile, he clinked your glasses together, the sound crisp and celebratory, before both of you took a sip. The bubbles danced on your tongue, but the sweetness of the moment was overshadowed by the weight on your heart. Hongjoong leaned back into the couch, his posture relaxed yet attentive.
“So, what’s going on in that pretty mind of yours?” he asked, his tone gentle yet probing. He had removed his blazer before entering, leaving him in a fitted button-up shirt and a tie that accentuated his confident demeanor. You blinked a few times, absorbing the sight of him, momentarily lost in his charm.
Finally, with a deep sigh, you set your glass down on the table, the clink resonating in the stillness.
“Hongjoong…” You shifted closer, your heart racing as you caught his gaze, the intensity in his eyes reflecting your own turmoil. He placed his glass on the table as well, sensing the seriousness of what you were about to share.
“A few weeks ago… Siwoo came unannounced to my place…” you began, your voice trembling slightly.
“What?” Hongjoong’s response was sharp, filled with concern. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
Feeling a surge of anxiety, you took his hands in yours and closed your eyes for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts. “Hongjoong, please let me explain,” you urged softly, feeling his unwavering gaze upon you.
He remained silent, his expression a mixture of worry and frustration as you continued. “He showed up at my door, but I didn’t let him in. He came to tell me that… he knows about us.”
Hongjoong’s brows furrowed deeply as you pressed on. “He was angry, ranting about why I left him, but I didn’t engage in his tantrum; I just said what I needed to and closed the door.” You stared down at your lap, feeling the shame of the past wash over you.
“Did he try to hurt you?” Hongjoong asked, his voice dropping to a near whisper, the softness contrasting with the simmering anger in his eyes.
“No… he banged on the door a few times, but it didn’t last long,” you admitted, fearing his reaction. But the anger only intensified in his gaze as he shifted in his seat. He’s upset at himself that he wasn’t there to protect you. To comfort you after the unwanted encounter.
“Joong, please,” you said, gripping his arm. “How did he even find out?” Hongjoong asks
The concern on his face deepened as he waited, a storm of emotions brewing inside him. “Haeun… She told him. I overheard her talking on the phone today saying she saw us making out.” you hesitated, the lump in your throat tightening. “And not only that…She’s been trying to get close to you, potentially to sleep with you, in hopes of getting a promotion.” A tear slipped down your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away. Hongjoong’s eyes widened in shock, his face twisting in disgust.
“I’ll fire her,” he said without hesitation, the conviction in his voice surprising you. You hadn’t expected him to respond so decisively.
He cupped your face, wiping away the tears that continued to fall. “And… she also admitted to me that she was the one Siwoo cheated on me with.” Your heart sank further as you met his gaze, the realization heavy between you.
“Siwoo is her professor at the university,” you continued, your voice calm yet hollow. “She recognized me the moment she started working here.” Tears streamed down your face, even as you fought to maintain your composure.
Hongjoong’s expression darkened, his fury palpable. He pulled you closer, your foreheads touching, creating an intimate bubble despite the turmoil surrounding you. “I will deal with them,” he whispered, his voice a fierce promise, igniting a spark of hope amidst the storm. He pulled you into his embrace, the warmth of his body enveloping you like a protective cocoon. His fingers gently stroked your hair, each soothing motion designed to calm the storm inside you. “I’m sorry you felt the need to keep this bottled up,” he whispered, his voice low and tender. “But, Y/N, seriously, next time, you need to tell me these things right away.” There was a soft frustration in his tone, directed not at you, but at the stress that Siwoo and Haeun had inflicted upon you.
You let out a soft whimper, sniffing away the remnants of your tears. “Okay,” you murmured, feeling the weight of his words settle in your heart.
“I hate seeing other people make you cry,” he continued, his voice taking on a darker tone, filled with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, feeling guilt creep in, despite knowing deep down it wasn’t your fault.
“No,” he said firmly, cupping your face in his hands, his touch gentle yet grounding. “You have nothing to be sorry about, Y/N.” He leaned in, brushing his lips against yours in a soft, lingering kiss that made your heart flutter and your worries feel momentarily distant.
“Do you understand?” he asked, his gaze searching yours, looking for reassurance in your glossy eyes. You nodded slowly, the connection between you solidifying with that simple gesture.
He deepened the kiss, pouring his warmth and understanding into the moment, before pulling you into another embrace. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you in this sanctuary of comfort.
“Stay the night,” he suggested softly, his breath warm against your ear. “Let’s shower and relax. You need it.”
You nodded again, feeling a sense of relief wash over you, allowing him to lead you upstairs.
———
You strip your clothes and step into the large warm shower room. Hongjoong follows behind you. The steaming water envelops you two, sighing as you allow yourself to relax. You both silently wash each other’s bodies and hair carefully. The only sound that can be heard is the water streaming and tapping on the tile floors. The quietness is comforting and much needed. You feel Hongjoong’s arm wrap behind you. His strong arm over your chest as he pulls you to his embrace. You both slowly rock underneath the water hitting your backs. His face nuzzles into your neck. Leaving soft kisses. You tilt your head allowing him more access to your soft wet skin.
“Y/N” Hongjoong softly mumbles against your neck.
“Yes?” You reply quietly taking in the sensation of his touch.
“I love you.” Hongjoong plants another kiss your neck once more before turning you around to face him. Your heart swells at his confession. You look at him in awe,
“I have always loved you.” Hongjoong whispers cupping your face.
“I love you Hongjoong” You whimper, pulling him into a deep kiss. Hongjoong doesn’t hesitate to reciprocate. Your lips move together in sync, tongues brushing against each other, your noses bumping together.
You feel Hongjoong grow harder as you two continue the heated kiss. You pant as his hands move together your waist, pulling you closer to his waist.
His lips are back to your neck, leaving a trail as he moves further down to your breasts. You moan at his warm tongue lapping over your nipples. He kisses the top of your breast briefly before softly biting it. He sucks your soft skin intentionally leaving a red mark.
“H—hongjoong” You moan throwing your head back. He pulls away and admires his marking on your skin. He smirks and leans down to kiss you. You moves your body slowly, your back softly lands against the cold tile walls. He slowly drops to his knees.
“Only you make me feel like this Y/N” Hongjoong softly says and hooks one of your thighs over his shoulder. He caresses your ass and brings your hips forward. He leaves a wet trail of kisses in your inner thighs. You whimper at the sensitive feeling. Hongjoong sticks out his tongue and strips it along your clit, earning a breathy moan from you. He tastes your wet juices and groans against your skin.
“Fuck” you moan as Hongjoong begins lapping his warm tongue over and over your entrance. His nose brushes against your clit stimulating you more.
Hongjoong devours your pussy harder as he enjoys your constant moans. His other arm hooks under your other leg bringing it to his shoulder. He lifts you effortlessly off the ground, against the wet tile wall. He holds onto your hips gripping onto your skin as he continues eating you out. Your hands instinctively grasp onto his hair for support. You’re a moaning mess as you move against his mouth.
Hongjoong groans and pulls your legs off. He’s back onto his feet and lifts you once again. You wrap your arms around his neck as he inserts his dick inside your pussy. You both moan loudly. He fucks you agaisnt the wall in a slow pace.
“God baby, you feel so fucken good” Hongjoong moans, resting his head in the crook of your neck.
“Want to feel you all the fucken time” He continues, kissing your neck in desperation.
“Me too Joong” you moan, “I want to be with you all the time” You whine holding him closer.
“Fuckk” He curses and picks up his pace. The grip on your waist tightens, making sure you won’t fall.
You cup Hongjoong’s face and bring his lips to yours. You brush your tongue over his lips and he moans, opening his mouth. You share a heated, wet messy kiss as he continues pumping into you. The once quiet shower, is now filled with the sounds of your wet bodies slapping against each other and heartfelt moans and breathy loving praises.
Hongjoong’s strokes become slow but deep, hitting your g spot at a perfect high. Your can’t help but tear up at the overwhelming pleasure, your tears fall flawlessly.
“So fucken pretty when you cry for me baby” Hongjoong moans and kisses your tears over and over. His wet lips peppering your teary face as he continues fucking you deeper. You moan loudly at his loving gesture making you whimper more as you feel your orgasm nearing.
“I’m going to cum Joong~” you whimper against his lips. “Me too baby” Hongjoong moans picking up his pace. You hold onto him tighter, wrapping your legs securely around his waist.
“C—cum inside me please Joongie?” you whine.
“Fuuck baby.” Hongjoong throws his head back, “Want me to fill your pussy?” He groans.
“Y—yess. I want it all p-please” You’re a whimpering mess as his pace becomes sloppy.
“Fuck okay baby. Joongie will cum inside your right pussy” He grunts, resting his forehead against yours as he looks into your glossy teary eyes,
“P-promise?” you whimper with a pout. Hongjoong feels his cock twitch as he looks at your cute fucked out expression.
“Fuuuck fuck, yes baby I promise” Hongjoong releases a load moan and continues his pace.
“I’m cumming” Hongjoong groans, and you hold onto him tightly, Your orgasm takes over you as you come together with him. You shake on his dick as you feel his hot warm cum shoot inside of you. You are both a panting mess. He stays inside of you for a while as you both take time to come down from your high.
Hongjoong slowly helps you back onto your feet as he slips out of you. His load drips out of your wet pussy in an instant and Hongjoong chuckles
“Fuck, that’s so hot” He groans and brings his fingers to collect his cum and shove it back inside you. You moan at the feeling and grab onto his shoulders.
“Joong~” you whine and he smirks.
“Such a fucken good girl baby” He kisses your lips. “Let’s wash up again” You both quietly giggle in each other’s embrace as you both take time cleaning one another.
Exiting the warm cascade of the shower, the steam curling around you like a gentle embrace, Hongjoong steps forward, his gaze softening as he wraps a towel around you. The fabric is plush against your skin, and you can’t help but giggle at his attentive care. He lifts you effortlessly, cradling you against his chest, and you instinctively hold onto him, feeling secure in his arms.
With a playful grin, he tosses you onto the bed, the soft sheets inviting against your damp skin. He leans down, pressing a tender kiss to your waist, his lips lingering for just a moment longer than necessary, igniting a warmth that spreads through you.
“I’ll get you some clothes,” he says, winking as he strides toward his expansive walk-in closet, the door swinging open to reveal an array of garments. You watch him rummage through the selection, his movements confident and relaxed.
When he returns, he’s in a pair of baggy gray sweats that hang low on his hips. In his hand, he holds an oversized shirt. He helps you slip into it, the shirt engulfing you in its cozy embrace. You can’t help but smile at how effortlessly he tends to you.
Once settled, he lays down beside you, the mattress sinking slightly under his weight. You instinctively curl up against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you into a state of comfort. A contented sigh escapes your lips as you nestle closer, feeling the safety of his presence enveloping you.
“I love you, Hongjoong,” you whisper softly, the words flowing from your heart with sincerity.
“I love you too, Y/N,” he replies, his voice a gentle caress. He leans down to place a soft kiss on your forehead, his arms tightening around you, pulling you even closer.
As the world outside fades away, a comforting silence settles around you, and together, you drift into a deep slumber, hearts intertwined in a peaceful embrace.
———
Email:
Miss Lee,
Please report to my office as soon as possible.
Haeun glanced at Hongjoong’s email, a smirk curling at the corners of her lips. Finally, the moment she had been waiting for had arrived: an opportunity for some alone time with him. With a purposeful stride, she made her way to Hongjoong’s office, only to notice that you were absent from your desk. She let out a derisive scoff, a wicked smile spreading across her face.
Interesting, she mused, Hongjoong wants to meet with me when Y/N isn’t around? It’s clear he’s been waiting for this. The thrill of her thoughts sent a rush of satisfaction through her as she approached the office door, knocking sharply.
“Come in,” Hongjoong’s calm voice echoed from within. Haeun twisted the doorknob and pushed the door open, revealing Hongjoong seated on his desk, arms crossed, a piercing gaze fixed on her.
“Hello, Mr. Kim. You wanted to see me?” Haeun purred, striding towards him with a confidence that bordered on arrogance.
“Please, sit. I have something important to discuss with you,” Hongjoong replied, his tone suddenly taking on a more serious edge. Haeun’s bravado faltered slightly at his stern demeanor, but she quickly recovered, settling into the chair with a deliberate poise.
“Sir, is everything alright?” she asked, her voice laced with faux sweetness.
“Miss Lee, do you have anything to tell me?” His glare was unyielding, and Haeun felt a flicker of unease.
“No, sir…” she replied, feigning innocence.
“Think again, Miss Lee.” He rose from his seat, moving around to sit on the edge of his desk. Haeun’s mind raced. Is he trying to initiate something? She rose from her chair, taking deliberate steps towards him, leaning in close.
“Mr. Kim, I’m sorry if I’ve been a bad girl” Haeun pouts. “Maybe you can teach me a lesson?” Her voice dropped to a whisper as she placed her hands on his shoulders, leaning closer.
Hongjoong recoiled, shoving her hands away with a look of disgust.
“Miss Lee, you’ve just proven that you’re unfit for this job or any job, for that matter.” He crossed his arms, his expression hardening.
“What?” Haeun’s confusion morphed into frustration, but a scoff escaped Hongjoong's lips as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small remote. With a click, the office TV screen flickered to life, revealing a recording.
Haeun’s heart dropped as she saw herself in the coffee break room, casually taking a phone call. Her own voice echoed through the office, each word hammering into her with a heavy weight.
“I already slept with the prof to get the best grades, and look where it got me. I don’t even have my degree yet! I just need the CEO now.”
The screen continued to replay her words, her bravado on full display. “Right?! What a coincidence that I keep fucking her men to excel in my career.”
“Well, no, I haven’t fucked the CEO yet, but I think I’m close,”
The color drained from Haeun's face as the realization hit her. Hongjoong paused the tape, letting the silence hang in the air like a noose.
“Miss Lee—” he began.
“I can explain!” she interjected, desperation creeping into her voice.
“There’s no need for an explanation,” he said unbothered. “I’ve spoken with your university and they talked to Professor Park Siwoo. You two weren’t as discreet as you thought.” Haeun’s eyes brimmed with tears, fear and anger intertwining within her.
“If you fire me, I’ll tell the press about your relationship with Y/N!” she threatened, her voice shaking. Hongjoong smirked in amusement,
“Your first mistake was disrespecting the woman I love. Now you think you can threaten me?” Hongjoong’s scoff echoed in the large office. “Go ahead, tell the press. We make a great couple, and we’re both well-loved by everyone. Nothing will happen.” His demeanor was unfazed, almost bored. And that infuriated Haeun.
“Lee Haeun, you’re fired. Pack your things and leave your employee badge on the way out,” he said firmly.
“Mr. K-Kim, please—” Haeun pleaded again, panic rising in her chest.
“LEAVE NOW!” Hongjoong shouted, pointing decisively at the door.
Hurt and humiliation surged through her. Haeun’s chest puffed with indignation as tears streamed down her face. With a defiant rip, she tore the employee badge from her neck and stormed out of his office, the echo of the door slamming behind her.
Hongjoong let out a deep sigh, a mix of relief and irritation swirling within him as he settled back into his desk chair. He had promised you that he would take care of Haeun and Siwoo, and he had followed through on that promise. This morning, he had insisted you take the day off—more like he had firmly nudged you out of the office for your own safety. He knew the moment he reported Siwoo’s inappropriate behavior to the university, the man would come hunting for you, either at your apartment or at work. So, as a precaution, he had whisked you away to his home, a sanctuary away from the chaos.
Now, you were indulging in the warmth of his jacuzzi, the steam rising around you like a gentle embrace as you binge-watched your favorite shows. The serene atmosphere was a welcome escape until the tranquility was interrupted by the ringing of your phone. Glancing at the screen, your heart fluttered when you saw Hongjoong’s name.
“Hi Joong,” you greeted softly, a smile blooming on your face.
“Hey baby, how you feeling?” His warm voice wrapped around you, sending a comforting shiver down your spine.
“I’m okay,” you replied, the softness in your tone matching the coziness of your surroundings.
“That’s good…” Hongjoong paused, and you could sense the weight of the world behind his words. “I talked to the university. They fired Siwoo.”
“Oh…” You were taken aback by the speed of his actions. It was reassuring and impressive, leaving you momentarily speechless.
“So, I think it’s best if you stay at my house for a few days. Siwoo is probably going to try to hunt you down,” he said, his voice gentle yet firm.
“Yeah, you’re right. Thank you, Joong…” you said, feeling a swell of gratitude. “And… what about Haeun?” You hesitated, the name lingering on your lips.
“Fired,” he stated simply. The relief that washed over you was palpable, a soothing balm to the tension that had built up in your chest.
“Thank you so much, Hongjoong,” you sighed, the weight lifting from your shoulders.
“I’d do anything to protect you, baby,” he replied, a promise nestled in his words. “I’ll see you later tonight, okay?”
“Okay,” you answered, warmth flooding your heart as the call ended.
You leaned back into the bubbling water, feeling as if a hundred burdens had been lifted from your shoulders. Each breath you took felt lighter, filled with gratitude for Hongjoong’s unwavering support. He had stood up for you, proving time and again how deeply he cared. This only deepened your affection for him, igniting a desire to be the best version of yourself. You wanted to show him just how much he meant to you, how much you appreciated everything he did. In this moment, you were reminded that love wasn’t just about grand gestures; it was about the quiet, steadfast presence that made everything feel safe.
———
A month had slipped by since Hongjoong confronted Siwoo and Haeun, and in that time, your life had transformed in ways you had only dared to dream. Happiness enveloped you like a warm blanket; the office, once a place of tension and unease, had returned to its familiar rhythm. Yet, there was a significant change that stirred beneath the surface—Hongjoong had made the bold decision to announce your relationship to the entire company.
At first, the thought of being so publicly exposed filled you with trepidation. The fear of judgment and gossip loomed large in your mind. But Hongjoong, with his unwavering confidence, had reassured you. “Everything is going to be okay,” he’d said, his eyes steady and sincere. And as always, he was right.
When the news broke, the initial shock soon gave way to a wave of excitement among your colleagues. The reactions were overwhelmingly positive. People whispered excitedly in the break room, their faces lighting up with joy. Some had even confided that they had hoped for this moment, having observed the undeniable chemistry between you and Hongjoong. “We always knew you two were meant to be!” one coworker exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear.
Others chimed in, reminiscing about moments they’d witnessed that hinted at your connection—the way Hongjoong would always find a reason to check in on youz It became clear that your relationship was not only accepted but celebrated. Your colleagues appreciated the way you both balanced your professional responsibilities with the tenderness of your partnership. It made the atmosphere in the office lighter, more enjoyable, and ultimately strengthened the bonds among the team.
As you settled back into the daily grind, you couldn’t help but notice the difference in the dynamics at work. Your coworkers seemed more relaxed, their laughter echoing through the halls as they reveled in the joy of your romance. You felt a renewed sense of belonging, and it was all thanks to Hongjoong’s courage to stand by your side.
In meetings, there was a new energy, a camaraderie that had blossomed from your relationship. Everyone seemed more engaged, and the collaborative spirit was palpable. You and Hongjoong often exchanged knowing glances across the conference table, little sparks of affection that did not go unnoticed. It was as if your love had breathed new life into the workplace, creating an environment where everyone felt a little more connected.
Every day, as you walked into the office, you felt grateful for the second chance at happiness you had found with Hongjoong. His steadfast support and the way he embraced your relationship with such pride made you appreciate him even more. Together, you were not just colleagues but partners in every sense of the word, navigating the complexities of both work and love hand in hand. It was a beautiful balance, one that made you look forward to each new day with excitement and hope.
———
“Hey, let’s go out tonight after your shift,” Hongjoong suggested, leaning casually over your monitor. His warm smile lit up the dim office, and you felt your heart flutter in response.
“Where to?” you asked, curiosity dancing in your voice.
“Just for a drink at a pub,” he replied, that charming grin never wavering.
“Okay,” you said, a smile spreading across your face as you felt the anticipation of the evening ahead.
As the clock struck the end of your shift, you found yourself stepping into the bustling pub, its lively atmosphere a sharp contrast to the quiet confines of the office. You and Hongjoong made your way to the bar, where you settled onto the cushioned stools. After placing your orders—something refreshing for you and a darker brew for him—Hongjoong insisted on getting some appetizers to share.
“So what’s the occasion?” you asked, taking a sip of your drink, the coolness invigorating.
“Does there need to be an occasion to take my girlfriend out?” he replied, arching an eyebrow playfully.
“Well, no…” you admitted, a soft blush creeping to your cheeks as you met his gaze. His laughter was like music to your ears, filling the space between you with warmth.
“I know we’ve both been busy lately. I just wanted us to finally take some time for ourselves,” Hongjoong said, leaning closer. He gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. “Plus, I’ve been craving this pub’s appetizers.”
You both shared a laugh, the ease of the moment enveloping you. The night unfolded with heartfelt conversations and playful banter, the outside world fading away as you lost yourselves in each other. Hongjoong's hand rested comfortably on your thigh, a subtle but electrifying reminder of his presence as he looked at you with admiration.
“I’ll be back. I need to use the bathroom,” he said, rising from his seat. Before he turned away, he leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. “When I get back, let’s go home so I can take care of you.”
Your heart raced at his words, a rush of heat flooding your cheeks as you nodded, caught off guard yet undeniably thrilled by the promise behind his statement. As he walked away, you took a moment to collect yourself, the ambiance of the pub buzzing around you while you savored the anticipation of what was to come.
“Y/N?” The familiar voice sliced through the ambient noise of the pub, and your heart dropped like a stone. You turned slowly, dread pooling in your stomach.
“S-Siwoo…” you managed to say, trying to keep your voice steady despite the anxiety that threatened to overwhelm you.
He leaned against the bar table, a mocking grin plastered across his face. “I knew it was you.” Without a hint of hesitation, he snatched the drink from your hand and downed it in one swift motion. “You know, ever since you left me, I haven’t been the same,” he said, feigning a hurt tone.
“Siwoo, you need to leave,” you said firmly, your heart racing.
“Oh, did you finally grow some confidence?” he chuckled, his gaze piercing as he studied you. “You used to be so easy to push around until you started hanging out with that snobby CEO of yours.” He rolled his eyes, grabbing a fry from your plate and crunching it between his teeth. “Where’s that person who got me fired, anyway?”
You turned away, trying to ignore him. Engaging with Siwoo would only escalate the situation. “Aww, don’t tell me he stood you up?” Siwoo leaned closer, his voice dripping with insincerity. “Let me take you home and remind you of what you’re missing.” His smirk made your skin crawl.
Just then, you felt a strong arm drape over your shoulders, pulling you into a protective embrace.
“She’s already coming home with me,” Hongjoong said coolly, his voice unwavering. The intensity of the moment made your heart race even faster. “And I doubt she’s missing anything from you.” A confident smirk graced his lips.
“Ahh~ there you are, the CEO she’s been with,” Siwoo sneered, standing up to face Hongjoong. “And the reason I got fired…”
“Hongjoong, let’s go…” you said softly, sensing the tension rising. You could feel Hongjoong’s cool demeanor, but you knew how volatile Siwoo could be. He nodded, helping you out of your chair with a deliberate calm.
“Awh, come on! You’re leaving already?!” Siwoo shouted, his voice rising above the chatter of the pub as you and Hongjoong passed him. Hongjoong’s arm remained protectively around you, guiding you away.
“You’re a whore, Y/N!” Siwoo called after you, causing several heads to turn. The weight of his words hung in the air, and Hongjoong’s eyes blazed with rage. He turned to you, cupping your face with a mix of concern and intensity before quickly redirecting his focus back to Siwoo.
In a swift motion, Hongjoong stepped toward Siwoo, grabbing him by the collar. Gasps echoed throughout the pub, and your stomach twisted with fear at the prospect of a fight breaking out.
Hongjoong tightened his grip, his voice low and menacing. “You better stay in your fucken lane. I already got you fired from your job. Now imagine what worse I can do.”
Siwoo scoffed, trying to play it off. “Is that a threat?”
“Don’t underestimate me, Siwoo. I can end you.” Hongjoong’s smirk was chilling.
Siwoo rolled his eyes and shoved Hongjoong’s arms off him, but Hongjoong didn’t budge. “You think you’re all big and mighty because you’ve got money?” Siwoo taunted, pushing Hongjoong again.
In that moment, you stepped closer to Hongjoong, grabbing his arm. “Joong, let’s go home,” you pleaded, desperation in your voice. He looked at you, his jaw tightening, before finally relenting.
“Yeah, listen to your bitch,” Siwoo laughed, and Hongjoong’s anger flared again, but you quickly pulled him back, cupping his face in your hands.
“Hongjoong, look at me. It’s not worth it. He’s purposely trying to provoke you. Let’s just go home, please.” Your voice was calm yet insistent.
Hongjoong took a deep breath, his expression softening as he closed his eyes to steady himself. He held your hand tightly, nodding in agreement. Leaning down, he pressed a warm, deep kiss to your lips, igniting a spark of comfort amidst the chaos. As he pulled away, he gave you a reassuring smile before wrapping his arm securely around your shoulders, leading you toward the exit.
“Fuck you, Y/N!” Siwoo shouted after you, but Hongjoong shot a glare over his shoulder, the intensity palpable as you stepped outside.
“Security, make sure that man doesn’t come back here,” Hongjoong instructed a guard at the door, his tone authoritative.
“Of course, Mr. Kim. I’ll deal with him right away,” the security guard responded, bowing slightly before making his way back inside.
You looked up at Hongjoong, confusion etched on your face. “You know that security guard?”
“The owner of this pub is my best friend,” Hongjoong said with a wink, pulling you closer. “Everyone knows me very well.” The sense of safety his presence offered enveloped you as you stepped into the cool night air, leaving the chaos of the pub behind.
———
The ride back home felt suffocatingly quiet, the tension thick enough to cut through. Hongjoong’s jaw was clenched, his grip on the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles turned white. He stared straight ahead, focused on the road as if it were a lifeline, completely lost in his thoughts.
“Joong…” you ventured, breaking the silence, but he merely hummed in response, his eyes never leaving the asphalt ribbon winding before him.
“Are you mad at me?” you asked softly, your voice barely a whisper. You could feel tears pooling at the corners of your eyes, a bittersweet sting threatening to spill over.
He sighed heavily as he turned into his driveway, the gravel crunching beneath the tires. Finally, he parked the car and turned to face you, his expression softening just a fraction.
“Why would I be mad at you, baby?” he asked, his tone gentle, yet a hint of concern lingered beneath the surface. He reached up, his fingers tangling lightly in your hair, caressing you with a tenderness that melted away some of the heaviness between you.
“I just hate that he disrespected you like that,” he admitted, knowing the weight of the earlier confrontation with Siwoo still pressed on your heart. Hongjoong’s hand glided down to your cheek, and you leaned into his palm, seeking comfort in his warm touch.
“Who cares about him? He’s irrelevant and pathetic,” you murmured, a fire igniting in your chest. Hongjoong chuckled softly, the sound a balm to your frayed nerves.
“You’re so right, baby,” he replied, a playful smirk creeping onto his lips. He released a deep sigh, unbuckling his seatbelt, the tension in his shoulders beginning to ease. “Let me show you who you belong to.”
A teasing giggle escaped your lips as you unfastened your seatbelt. “I already know who I belong to,” you shot back, your heart racing at the promise in his words.
In an instant, you both leaped out of the car, adrenaline surging through you. Hongjoong strode toward you with purpose, his hand playfully tapping your hips. Without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around his neck, leaping into his embrace. He caught you easily, securing your waist as you instinctively wrapped your legs around him.
“Fuck, Y/N” he said, his impatience evident as he made his way toward the grand front doors of his house. You couldn’t help but giggle at his eagerness, peppering soft kisses along his neck, each one igniting the warmth in both your hearts.
Hongjoong couldn’t take the few extra steps to his bed. Instead, he dropped you onto the soft plush couch. You giggled in an instant and looked at him in awe. Hongjoong quickly shook off his coat and loosened his tie. You reached for the satin fabric and gripped on it tightly. You pulled it forward, causing Hongjoong to drop onto the couch with you. He propped himself up with his palms on the sides of your head. You pulled him closer, closing the gap between your lips.
You whimpered in the kiss as his tongue lapped against yours. Hongjoong chuckles at your boldness and instinctively begins rubbing his lower body against yours.
“I fucken love you Y/N” Hongjoong moans and moves towards your neck. You begin panting at his warm tongue brushing against your soft skin.
“God I love you Hongjoong” You moan, running your hands through his soft hair.
Hongjoong’s hands move to your thin white blouse and hastily unbuttons your shirt. In desperation, he rips off the shirt. The white buttons can be heard ripping off the fabric.
“Joong~ that was my favorite shirt!” you whine with a slight giggle at his eagerness.
“I’ll fucken buy you a hundred of those later” Hongjoong hisses and stuffs his face in your soft breasts. You moan in response and throw your head back.
Hongjoong pulls away from you and looks at you with the most lustful gaze ever. He begins unbuttoning your black slacks and pulling them off your waist. You’re left in your matching red lace bra and panties.
“You know, I fucken love that you’re always in a sexy pair of matching bra and underwear” Hongjoong praises as his hands run down your body. Taking in your whole existence. He leans down to pepper kisses along your waist and over your chest.
“Oh~ Joong-“ You moan at his intoxicating soft touch.
Hongjoong pulls away once again, and begins pulling off his tie.
“Do you trust me Y/N?” Hongjoong softly asks and he grips his tie in his hands. You nod in response. He begins bringing his tie towards your eyes.
“W—wait” you say hastily, Hongjoong instantly stops and looks at you in concern.
“I—I want to see you take off your clothes first…” you whisper, feeling embarrassed. Hongjoong chuckles and his smirk widens
“Such a dirty girl.” Hongjoong places his tie on the head of the couch.
“Help Joongie take off his clothes then” Hongjoong teases leaning back on his knees. You pout in embarrassment and begin propping yourself up. Your hands reach towards the buttons of his shirt and for some reason you struggle to unbutton it. “Come on baby~” Hongjoong chuckles at your clumsiness. Tears well up in embarrassment as you finally get the last buttons off. You push fabric off his toned arms and whimper at his sexy body. Your fingers grace over his tattoo and you instinctively kiss it. Hongjoong groans at your gesture and caresses your hair.
“Fuck, take off my pants baby” Hongjoong says as he stands up on his feet. You reach towards his belt and unbuckle it quickly. You couldn’t help the tears that fell from your eyes in frustration and desperation to feel him. Hongjoong moans at the sight of your teary eyes. He cups your cheek and wipes your tears slowly.
“So fucken pretty” he whispers as you pull off his pants and briefs. His hard cock throbs in craving for you. Hongjoong leans down and kisses your lips as his thumbs brush your wet cheeks.
“Fuck do I really want to cover your pretty eyes?” Hongjoong chuckles as he rests his forehead on yours. You whimper in protest, to be honest you love seeing his face as he fucks you senseless.
Hongjoong pulls away and shakes his head. Releasing a sigh he grabs his tie.
“Nah, I do.” Hongjoong smirks as you pout. He brings the tie towards your face and you close your eyes in instinct. He securely ties the fabric around your face and places a kiss on your forehead.
“I’ll take this off once your tears soak up that tie.” He whispers softly. “Understood?” Hongjoong leans towards your ear his soft breath sending shivers down your spine, “Yes, Hongjoong.” you whimper out.
“You gotta cry for me, alright baby?” Hongjoong groans as he pulls away to take in the lewd sight of you.
“Yes, Joong~” you moan as tears fall from your eyes and hit the fabric.
Hongjoong carefully pushes your body to lay on the soft cushioned couch. His hands grace over your waist and thighs. He hooks his fingers over your red lacy panties to pull them off, a wet string of your juices clings onto the fabric.
“Fuck, Y/N you’re so wet” Hongjoong moans at the sight of your perfect wet pussy.
“I don’t even need to prep you baby” Hongjoong chuckles as he inserts a finger in you. You release a loud moan, tears streaming down. Hongjoong touches himself as he begins pumping his fingers deeper into your wet cunt. The quiet living room is filled with the sounds of your wet pussy, breathy pants from Hongjoong, and quiet whines from your plump lips.
“What’s wrong baby?” Hongjoong teases, his pace getting faster.
“W—want you inside Joongie.” You cry as you reach out your hands in hope to touch his skin. Hongjoong bites his lips at the submissive state you’re in.
“Yeah? You want me inside of you?” Hongjoong moans.
“Y—yes, please” you whimper out sniffling your nose. You feel the first layer of the satin fabric getting soaked at you cry in desperation to feel Hongjoong.
“Awh~ such a crybaby” Hongjoong chuckles as he pulls his fingers out of you. He places his fingers in his mouth tasting you, and he begins pumping himself faster. He moans at his lewd action, knowing you can’t see how dirty he looks right now tasting your juices on his fingers in pleasure.
“Fuck-“ He grunts as he pops his fingers out his mouth.
Now impatient as well, Hongjoong quickly enters you. You yelp in pleasure, finally feeling him inside of you. Hongjoong moans at your warm pussy wrapping around him. He quickly reaches behind your back and skillfully unclasps your bra. He fondles your breasts and begins moving his hips deeper inside you. You’re a moaning, crying mess from the overstimulation of his hard big cock hitting your g-spot with ease.
Hongjoong bites his lip as he looks at your face. Your lips are plumped and parted as you moaned. Your cheeks flushed red in pleasure. The satin fabric that covered your eyes is soaked with your tears. He moans in desperation to see your glossy teary eyes. So in response, he leans down to kiss your lips softly before he pulls the satin tie off your face.
Your watery eyes are met with a dreamy faced Hongjoong. He clearly looks just as fucked out as you as. His strokes get deeper at the sight of your face. Your mascara began smearing lightly, as the mixture of your tears and the fabric cause the streaks down your face. Hongjoong moans loudly as he brings his hands to cup your face and wipe your tears and smeared makeup.
“Fuck, I’m going to cum already.” Hongjoong grunts as he closes his eyes, taking in the immense pleasure.
“Me too Joong~” you moan in response.
“Yeah, cum for me baby” Hongjoong’s pace becomes sloppy as more tears stream down your face.
“H—harder” you whimper, wrapping your arms and legs around his body, bringing him closer.
“Fuck Y/N~” Hongjoong thrusts harder and deeper. He feels your pussy clench over his cock, knowing you hit your orgasm. You cry out in pleasure as you ride out your high. Hongjoong quickens his pace and grunts, feeling himself cumming.
“So fucken good for me” Hongjoong moans loudly as he thrusts deeply in you and releases his load inside you.
You moan at the warm feeling, holding onto him as you both calm down from the intense orgasm. Hongjoong’s face is buried in the crook of your neck as he pants. Your hands found their way to his hair as he catches his breath.
“Fuck I should just make you have my baby” Hongjoong chuckles. You gasp in response and giggle.
“Not yet Joong~” you blush at his words.
“Hm? not yet? interesting” he teases, puckering his lips to kiss your neck. You laugh at his banter as he pulls away from you. He kisses your lips deeply and caresses your face.
“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered softly, his breath a gentle caress against your ear.
The words sent a rush of warmth through you, causing your heart to clench with an overwhelming mix of affection and longing. “I love you, Hongjoong,” you replied, your voice filled with sincerity, each syllable weighted with emotion.
The love you felt for him was unlike anything else—something deep and indescribable. It transcended mere words, existing in the shared glances, the tender touches, and the quiet moments of understanding. You knew that Hongjoong would do anything for you, going to great lengths to ensure your happiness and protect you from harm.
In return, you would do anything for him without hesitation. You’d sacrifice everything for his joy, support him through every challenge, and stand by his side through the ups and downs of life.
You knew that you’d love him, hold him, and cry for him. Forever.
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Authors note: AHHHHHHHHHHHHH ALL DONE! I hope you all enjoyed reading this filthy Trilogy. Lmk what was your fav part🤭 Me personally was when hongjoong was tasting your juices on his fingers while jacking off 🤷‍♀️ omg.
Anyways, thank you for all the support and patience! Please like, reblog, and comment your thoughts in my comment section or ask box. Lots of loveeee❤️❤️❤️❤️
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jimxnslight · 4 months ago
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Fool's Gold || Part III
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Summary: Sweet Y/N, with her fluffy pastel dresses, soft makeup, and ditzy mannerisms. She’s seen as a fool in a world where there is no place for such things, but little do they know, the only fools are them.
Pairing: mafia leader!Jungkook x mafia leader's daughter!reader
Genre: mafia au, arranged marriage au
Word Count: 15.5k
Warnings: most warnings associated with mafia fics (e.g. gun/physical violence, blood, dead bodies, etc), additional warnings might be added as the story progresses
A/N: it's finally here! Sorry for the wait, things have just been really busy lately... but I hope you enjoy!
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<< previous part || masterlist || next part >>
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Living with you has been an absolute nightmare.
Obviously Jungkook had known that dropping poison in his champagne and whiskey wouldn’t be the end of your little assassination attempt; he’d expected you to continue doing whatever was in your power to make good on your threat. He may have been a little cocky about it too, teasing you over the fact that he was standing before you unscathed, but the logical part of him still knew to keep his guard up constantly. 
What he hadn’t realised was how exhausting it would all be. 
You’d been here only four days and Jungkook had already had to evade poison in his toothpaste, a suspicious looking pin wedged into the insole of his shoe, and garlic juice in his cologne- the last one seeming far from a homicide attempt and closer to just pissing him off. 
Dealing with that alone was one thing, because it wasn’t something he couldn’t handle. But on top of it all, Jungkook hadn’t slept properly in days. He’d found himself dozing off for a few minutes here and there while holed up in his office at night occasionally, but he had mostly just stuck to spending his nights working, especially on the Park issue. He couldn’t risk actually sleeping in his office considering he knew that you had the ability to bypass the lock. And besides, as much as he would appreciate a few extra hours of sleep, Jungkook still had to be ready for if Jimin decided to attack again, even if he’d been quiet so far.
One of those preparations involved speaking with your father, which was why you and Jungkook were seated in one of the guest houses at 8:00 AM in the morning while your father was sat casually on the creme-coloured settee across from the mahogany coffee table before you both. The guest house was situated near the gates of Jungkook’s estate, still within its borders, but far enough that it had its own entrance and ensured guests wouldn’t end up too close to his house, just how he liked it. 
The initial meeting with your father had been awkward, though Jungkook may have been the only one to catch onto it. Your father hadn’t embraced you or kissed your cheek or told you how much he missed you, instead he had sent a formal nod in your direction before giving Jungkook a firm handshake. After that your father had barely spared you a glance, addressing Jungkook as if he were the only one in the room. You didn’t seem very offended by this either, your gaze instead drifting around the space looking almost bored as the two men conversed casually for a few minutes. 
It was an interesting detail, one Jungkook tucked into the back of his sleep-deprived mind. 
“The differences between the North and South have surprised me a ton,” Mr. Lee commented, taking a sip from the teacup in his hand. His accent was rough, no doubt a product of his upbringing in the South, “you guys do things a lot more softly here in the North.”
It was a jab, Jungkook wasn’t stupid enough not to know that, especially knowing how rough things were in the South. That comment was enough for him to know that your father was the type of man that liked to put others down to make himself seem superior. It only amused Jungkook though, because as per the culture, your father already had a bit of an upper hand since he was older, and yet he still felt the need to talk down to him.
Distantly, he wondered if your father’s personality had something to do with why you decided to hide your true personality even from him. 
“Yes, I suppose so,” Jungkook decided to reply dryly, not bothering to bite back. If he had learned anything, it was how to choose his battles, and an ego trip was not worth it in his books. 
Instead his gaze drifted towards your seemingly aloof form. It was a bit unnerving to see you look so quiet and proper, almost like he was being shown a third side of you. Your facade was still definitely up though, no one could miss the slight widening of your eyes and faint pout of your lips to feign an innocent look, but this version of your act was definitely more placid. 
Jungkook’s gaze travelled back to your father as he smiled, a sudden urge to get you to react overtaking him, “it’s definitely been an adjustment for your daughter.”
At your mention, your wandering eyes were reeled back to meet the gazes of the two men before you once again, but, unlike during the dinner with Taehyung and Chaewon, that was the extent of your reaction to the obvious dig. Jungkook’s eyes narrowed in your direction as you continued to sit silently beside him, an innocent expression still painting your already heavily painted features. 
Despite the topic, Mr. Lee’s gaze stayed fixed on Jungkook, “hope she hasn’t been too much trouble. She used to be quite the spitfire growing up, but thankfully I fixed her right up before she could bring that attitude into adulthood. Can’t imagine how I would’ve gotten her married if I hadn’t.”
The room became quiet as Jungkook shifted uncomfortably in his place, your father’s words, which sounded so casual on his tongue, unable to settle comfortably within him. Jungkook wasn’t so naive as to believe that “fixed her up” alluded to gentle parenting and stern lectures. And if his guesses as to how your father might have disciplined you growing up were correct, then you had his sympathies. Jungkook’s childhood wasn’t exactly filled with rainbows and butterflies, the son of a mafia leader’s childhood never is, but everything his father had done was for the betterment of the Jeons, not so Jungkook could be a good slave to a spouse. 
“No,” he finally decided to answer, “she hasn’t been any trouble at all.”
If your father’s comment had bothered you, you didn’t show it. But Jungkook was still eager to change the subject. 
Before he could, however, he was surprised when he felt you straighten up beside him and beat him to it. 
“How is Hannah doing, father?”
Despite all his research, Jungkook had no clue who Hannah was. He’d never even heard of the name before, which he found surprising considering how well he made sure to research the Lees before his marriage. Nevertheless it was clear to him that whoever this Hannah was, she was important. You’d asked the question with your usual soft voice, a casual hint in your tone, but Jungkook had known you long enough at this point to see past your act. He could see the way your gaze had turned calculating, taking in each and every expression that flitted across your father’s face as he took a sip from his teacup before he finally allowed himself to take you in. 
“She's doing fine,” he answered after a moment, voice void of any emotion, “very fine actually.”
Jungkook didn’t miss the subtle jump in your eyebrows at his words, so subtle that he doubted your father would notice it even though he was finally acknowledging your presence. 
“But you should start worrying more about this place, Y/N. This is your home now after all.”
Your gaze immediately dropped at his words as you gave him a timid nod, ditzy Y/N clearly back in full swing. Most would have witnessed this interaction and seen a loving daughter being rejected by her cold, heartless father. But looking past your act of innocence, Jungkook couldn’t help but feel that there was more to this interaction than that. The relationship you had with your father was weird. If Jungkook hadn’t known either of you, he wouldn’t have guessed that you were more than mere acquaintances with how distant you both seemed. No love, no animosity, just… impassive.
And yet, despite this clearly uncommunicative relationship, you’d spoken up only once in this entire conversation to ask about a person named Hannah - or rather you had wanted confirmation about something regarding Hannah, and judging from the way your expression had returned to that naively bored look, you had gotten the confirmation you were seeking. Neither of you had offered to identify who Hannah was to Jungkook either, so he doubted asking would prove to be very useful. 
If only Jungkook had the mind to figure everything out on his own at this moment. He’d already had to stifle three yawns since the beginning of the conversation, all of which he was able to hide only because your father had initially seemed very interested in scanning the contents of the guest house. Hopefully he’d get better at hiding his exhaustion as the day progressed, he had a long day ahead of him after all. 
Your father caught Jungkook’s attention once again when he leaned forward to place his empty teacup on the mahogany coffee table in front of him. The teacup clinked against the wood before he leaned back into the settee, giving Jungkook a questioning look. 
“So, now that we’ve got the chit chat out of the way, why’d you need to see me so desperately?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Jungkook ignored the arrogant structuring of his words once again, gaze instead drifting to you, who was keenly scanning the front page of a newspaper that had been haphazardly placed on the coffee table to give the room a more homey feel. 
He wasn’t entirely sure whether you knew anything about Jimin’s attack on the West Docks. Yes, you had broken into his office once, but Jungkook didn’t leave important stuff like that just lying around so technically you didn’t have any way of knowing about it. Jungkook preferred if you didn’t, because obviously the less you knew the better. You were trying to kill him after all, and as much as he liked to make a joke out of it, he wasn’t dumb enough not to at least partially take it seriously. 
So Jungkook shifted in his seat to face you, the action catching your previously wandering attention, before he placed a hand on your knee. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t hesitant, but thankfully you didn’t flinch at the contact. 
“Why don’t you go freshen up, princess? Your father and I have some business to discuss, and then after that you and I have somewhere to be.”
Jungkook watched your eyebrows twitch, though whether it was from the nickname or in question of where the two of you would be heading he didn’t know. But then your gaze flickered to your father’s direction for a moment before you quietly nodded. 
You stood from the settee, ignoring the way Jungkook’s hand, which had been resting on your knee, brushed against your skin as it fell. When you faced your father, hands clutched before you, he was already looking up at you with a familiarly indifferent expression. 
“It was nice seeing you again, father,” you said formally, keeping your voice light and soft as you offered him a small bow. You were returned a formal nod, another familiar action, before you turned away from the two men and pushed through the double doors of the guest house. 
A deep sigh escaped your lips the moment you heard the door shut behind you, feeling as though someone had lifted an anvil off your chest. Your father’s presence had always felt suffocating, you were just glad that the two of you being in the same room has also always been a rare occurrence in itself. 
You didn’t have time to dwell on that fact as the beauty of Jungkook’s estate now stood before you in all its glory. Lush green grass surrounding a stone walkway, colourful flowers popping out of strategically placed beds, and large, but maintained, Japanese Maple trees scattered here and there were all organised neatly to form a breathtaking courtyard. 
This was the one thing you could unconditionally appreciate about Jungkook’s estate. Most leaders’ estates screamed money with the various marble statues of themselves and their families littering their front yards and excessive landscaping drenching the flowers and grass in stone and metal. But Jungkook’s was filled with greenery, as if you were walking through an enormous garden. You loved it. 
While surveying the area your gaze dropped to the stone pathway before you, the one you and Jungkook had walked through to get to the guest house and also the one you were certain Jungkook was expecting you to take after being kicked out of said guest house. You stared at it for no more than three seconds, not even bothering to think it over, before you spun around in your spot and pressed your ear to the door you had just emerged from. 
There was something wrong. 
Although alliances were a very uncommon thing in the South, you were still smart enough to know that business deals between allies should be eased into slowly, not started four days after a marriage. This meeting was happening way too soon, which made you doubt it was business-related at all. 
Jungkook needed something from the Lees. The only question was what?
After leaning quietly against the door for a few minutes, you were only able to pick up a few words here and there between quick stifled yawns. It would’ve disappointed you if it wasn’t for the one name you managed to catch Jungkook say as clear day.
Park Jimin.
The leader of the Parks. The man whose close friend consisted of the ruthless Min Yoongi, leader of the Mins. Both mafias were located north of Taehyung and Jungkook’s territories. Personally, you’ve never heard of any ongoing disputes between the four, but if Jungkook was mentioning Park’s name in a meeting with your father, there had to be something going on. 
That would be perfect, because if you killed Jungkook while he was having a feud with Jimin, then Jungkook’s death would be more likely to be pinned on Jimin, allowing you to bear no consequences and be sent back to the Lees without a scratch. 
Except… it wasn’t perfect, because killing Jungkook had proven to be a lot harder than you had anticipated.
Killing your first husband had been child’s play. Even after you’d grabbed the gun from his waistband and shot him twice in the chest, his men had taken one look at the scene and ruled you out before you had even had the chance to construct a detailed tale of an assassin that had come through the window and shot him dead. They had been complete idiots, entirely unable to see the doe-eyed girl with frilly pink dresses and a soft airy voice as anything more than that. 
But this case was an entirely different challenge. You’d realised on the very night of your wedding that the people around Jungkook, as well as Jungkook himself of course, were not as stupid. You knew that if you tried to pull the same stunt again, you’d be pinned for the murder eventually. It’s why you hadn't even bothered to search for some kind of weapon in Jungkook’s mansion, nor had you tried to steal the gun you knew stayed sat on Jungkook’s waistband at every moment of the day. If you used a weapon to kill Jungkook, you’d be caught. 
That’s why you had stuck to poisons as your main choice of weapon. The collection of toxins you had managed to smuggle into the mansion, all thanks to Persilla of course, was made to make kills look like nature’s fate. Yet, despite dropping toxins into anything that could possibly make contact with Jungkook’s mouth or skin for the past four days, your efforts were proving to be futile. Jungkook’s knack for catching onto small details was just a difficult barrier to overcome. 
You knew H hadn’t sent you that note to pressure you into speeding up Jungkook’s murder, and you hadn’t taken it in that way at first, but now that four days had passed you were beginning to think about changing your methods. It would be more complicated, but you needed to get this done quickly. 
A gun would be the best way to finish him off in your opinion; it was the one weapon you were a master of and getting a hold of one shouldn’t be too difficult with all the guards milling around the estate. Then all you’d need to do was get Jungkook alone, shoot him dead, and then plant some evidence that pointed towards the Parks. You’d need to be careful, but it was doable a-
“Now look what I’ve found.”
You snapped away from the door and whirled around, startled entirely as a male voice suddenly spoke up from behind you. You were met with the view of a man, one you’ve never seen before, standing a couple metres away from your form, his hair as light brown as his eyes. He stood with his hands in the pockets of his dark jeans, while the buttons of his white polo shirt were open to reveal a sliver of his neck. 
“I seem to have caught a nosy little mouse.”
You wanted to ask him who he was and what he was doing here. Anyone within the gates of Jungkook’s estate had to be close to him, you’d learned that much during your stay here. Yet, Jungkook had failed to mention this man at all. 
But before you could voice your questions, the man stepped forward, brown dress shoes tapping against the stone beneath you both, and held out a hand, “I’m Daehyun, Jungkook’s cousin. We haven’t formally been introduced.”
Tentatively, because you still had an act to uphold, you reached out to shake his hand, making sure to keep your grip weak, “I’m Y/N.”
Then you remembered that eavesdropping on a conversation between Jungkook and your dad may not seem like the most innocent thing to Daehyun. So you quickly mustered up a believable excuse. 
“I swear I wasn’t trying to listen to their conversation! I just…”
You paused, pretending to shy away from him to give the illusion that you were embarrassed to admit the blatant lie that was about to escape your lips.
“I just wanted to know if Jungkook would talk about me,” you said, keeping your gaze on the ground as you started fidgeting with your fingers, “he’s not the most talkative man with me, so I just wanted to see if he would admit anything to my father.”
“Mhmm,” Daehyun replied, and you couldn’t help but feel that the tone of his voice gave the impression that he wasn’t paying attention. Finding that strange, you lifted your gaze from the ground hesitantly and observed him. The sight made you grimace inwardly. 
Daehyun’s lack of interest could be explained by the fact that he was too busy raking his eyes across your body, taking in your bare legs and neck, almost as if he were entranced. You noticed his fingers twitch as he took in the frills of your pink dress and the silk bow holding up half your hair. 
“God, you don’t look a day over 19,” he commented, as if you weren’t even there and he was simply talking to himself, “how old are you, darling?”
This was far from the first time a guy had looked at you as though you were a piece of meat. In fact, your act seemed to garner a lot more attention from the male species than it should. You liked to think that all the years of this had made you immune to moments like these, but deep down you knew it still made your skin crawl.
That being said, the implications of Daehyun’s words were beginning to register in your mind. This was Jungkook’s cousin, his family. It was customary for all male members of mafia families to have a gun with them at all times, which meant that there was a very high probability that, if Daehyun were to turn around, you would catch sight of a shiny black gun wedged into his waistband. He didn’t seem like the intelligent type to you either, which meant this would be a better opportunity to steal a gun compared to snagging one from a constantly alert guard. 
All you needed to do was get him a little closer to you. 
“Twenty-three,” you finally answered, keeping your voice soft and innocent-sounding. You took the opportunity to take a timid step forward, one that seemed to go unnoticed by Daehyun.
Instead he nodded, as if in approval of your answer, “Jungkook really hit the jackpot with you, didn’t he… I expect you’ll age beautifully. Lucky bastard.”
You pushed down the urge to throw up in your mouth. If you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t think you had it in you to lead him on in order to steal the gun. He was just way too slimy, saying things that were way too gross. 
But turns out, you didn’t really need to say anything as Daehyun took another step towards you, leaving only a hand’s length between yourself and him. You automatically felt yourself tense. If it were up to you, you’d have grabbed his shirt and kicked him where the sun doesn’t shine. But you were ditzy Y/N at the moment, and ditzy Y/N couldn’t fight back. 
Instead you tried to focus on the gun. He was close enough that you could snake your arm behind him without him noticing, but he still needed to get a little closer for you to grab it. 
“Relax, darling,” Daehyun soothed, and to both your distaste and relief he placed a hand on your shoulder, closing the distance you needed. Your hand crept forward slowly, stopping at his waistband, “you don’t need to be so tense-”
“Daehyun.”
Crap.
Your empty hand shot back to your side as your gaze snapped to the source of the voice, Daehyun’s following suit less quickly. Jungkook was shutting the door of the guest house behind him, dark eyes fixed on the hand on your shoulder. His voice had been low, the threat in them evident. Yet, Daehyun smiled, instead taking his time in removing his hand from your shoulder and taking a step back. 
“Jungkook,” he nodded, his hands returning to his pockets, “your wife and I were just having a small chat.”
You searched the space behind Jungkook, finding no sign of your father. The guest house had two exits, one that led into Jungkook’s estate and another that led outside of it. Your father must have gone through the latter. 
Jungkook gained your attention once again when he took a few steps forward, his sharp gaze fixed on Daehyun, “you can talk without touching.”
Daehyun raised his hands in mock surrender as Jungkook paused in front of you, scanning you from head to toe for a second, before he grabbed your wrist and began dragging you away from him, barely sparing him another glance as he started on the stone pathway you knew led to his mansion. There was this one patch of the pathway that you noticed hid the two of you from the attentive eyes of the guards. You took that opportunity to drop your act of innocence. 
“Cousin of yours?” You asked with an eyebrow raised. 
“Unfortunately.”
Your brows furrowed as you watched Jungkook spit out the word through gritted teeth, keeping his face forward. He was angry. He didn’t like Daehyun, you realised. Yet he seemed to have free access to his house? That didn’t make any sense.
You watched the patch eventually give way to a large circular driveway that laid before the front doors of Jungkook’s mansion. There was a sleek black car already parked on the grey concrete, obscured slightly by the fountain in the circle’s centre. It probably had something to do with what Jungkook was talking about earlier, about how there was somewhere the two of you would be going. 
With your innocent facade back up, because you noticed guards milling around this part of the estate, you turned to Jungkook with a curious look, “where are we going?”
He paused for a moment as his gaze dropped on you, and you immediately knew he was choosing his next words carefully, making sure to pick the ones that only allowed you to know as much as he wanted you to. 
“We’re going to meet some families,” he finally answered, but you’d already become distracted as you noticed a guard walk up to the window of the black car and begin speaking with the driver, the exposed gun at his hip suddenly looking very attractive to you especially after your failed attempt at snatching Daehyun’s. 
“And why is that?” You asked him absentmindedly, wondering if there was any way you could grab the weapon. You’d only need to brush past the guard for a moment to grab and shove it into the holster at your thigh. You knew the frills of your dress would do an amazing job at hiding its outline as well, even from eyes like Jungkook’s.
“There was an accident at the West Docks and a few workers died. We’re going to meet with the families and pay our respects.”
Your attention snapped back to Jungkook, the reminder to keep your expression light coming just a millisecond too late. It was a practically microscopic reaction, but it was enough for Jungkook to pick up on, making him tilt his head in question.
“I’m sorry, what?” You asked without much thought, because you honestly didn’t have anything smarter to say. Why was a mafia leader paying respects to people who weren't part of the family?
You weren't an idiot; it was no coincidence that Jungkook mentioned an incident taking place at the docks around the same time he had a meeting with your father in which he was mentioning Park Jimin’s name. You’d pieced together that said “incident” was more likely some kind of attack, and the one responsible for said attack was probably Park Jimin. If Jimin had attacked Jungkook’s docks, then that meant he was testing how strong the Jeons were at the moment, which further meant that he was interested in taking over the territory. Obviously Jungkook would have wanted to ensure that he had your father’s support if things were to escalate. 
People would have died in the attack at the West Docks, that’s how it always worked. Hell, people died at the borders all the time in the South since there was so much animosity between the territories there. 
But that’s just how things worked, or at least that’s what you’d heard mafia leaders parrot to each other growing up. “They knew what they were signing up for.” “They’re doing it for the sake of the mafia.” It was the kind of thinking that you loathed, and that exact thinking that you hoped to dismantle bit by bit until everyone, not just you, could see the flaws behind it. 
Yet… here Jungkook was, saying he wanted to value those lives lost by paying respects to their mourning families…
It was unbelievable. 
However, before either of you could speak, the door of the parked car opened to reveal a man wearing a standard suit. He stepped out onto the concrete, only to turn around in his place and open the door to the backseat. He continued to stay like that, patiently waiting for the two of you. 
Jungkook was the first to move, walking around the car to open the door himself and disappear behind the sleek black metal, while you eventually followed behind him, giving the man a soft thank you before sinking into the backseat beside your husband. In a matter of seconds, the doors were shut and you felt the car begin to move beneath you. 
There was an unfamiliar silence as you peered through the tinted windows, watching as the car passed through the front gates before submerging into a thick forest. The four days you’ve been at Jungkook’s mansion had been full of constant bickering, that was until someone else would enter the room. Then suddenly you were clasping your hands in front of you and bowing with a soft smile, all while Jungkook hid his cocky grins. 
“What? No snappy comebacks today?” Jungkook spoke, probably feeling the uncharacteristic silence as well. Despite noticing that there was a divider between the driver and you both, meaning there was no reason for you to keep your act up, you didn’t answer. 
You didn’t know why his earlier words weren’t sitting well with you. Just because Jungkook dropped a few condolences here and there didn’t make him a good person. He was the leader of a mafia after all, and you’d met enough of them to know the kind of people they were: cruel, merciless, and lacking in respect for the ones outside their families. Even the level of care they had for their families was questionable. 
But still… this was throwing you off.
You turned around in your seat as a sudden thought came to mind, causing Jungkook’s gaze to shift from the window to your form. 
“What do you mean by paying respect?” You asked. Perhaps the phrase meant something different in the North. Perhaps instead of meeting the families and expressing empathy for their loss, he was going to lecture them on the need for martyrs and how the families owed the Jeons for letting them live in their territories. Yes, that made a lot more sense to you. 
Jungkook, on the other hand, was looking at you as if you’d gone insane. 
“I won’t even begin to answer that question,” he scoffed. But then he seemed to consider something for a moment, probably the fact that you would also be the one paying respects and not knowing what that was might be a hindrance to his perfect image, and spoke with an annoyed sigh, “we will be meeting with the families, relaying a few comforting words. Let them know that we will be supporting them from now on so they can focus solely on overcoming their grief rather than on how they’ll make ends meet moving forward.”
You turned back to your window with a frustrated breath, his answer doing nothing to dissipate your confusion. You might have also faced away from him to hide a stifled yawn. Car rides tended to make you sleepy, and in combination with the fact that you haven’t slept properly throughout your stay at the Jeon Mansion, it was taking a lot of willpower to keep your mind alert at the moment. 
“Considering that this will be our first official public appearance, I should also repeat how crucial it will be for you to act like a good wife.”
You rolled your eyes as a huff escaped your lips, “Yeah, I get it.”
“If you getting it means you’ll act better than the way you acted in front of your father, then good,” he commented, which made you turn to him once again with a brow raised. 
“What is that supposed to mean? I was fine in front of my father.”
Jungkook shrugged, “you could have been better.”
“How?”
He thought for a moment, mulling it over before he responded with an amused look, “when you were leaving the room, you stood up and just let my hand fall away to the side. Some would take that as a sign that you’re mad at me.”
“I am not going to kiss the ground you walk on just so that a few jobless people will keep their mouths shut,” you shot back. If you were having any qualms about killing him earlier they were entirely gone now. You were going to enjoy each and every moment of gutting the man at your side, not even the slightest hint of guilt.
“Not to mention how quiet you were,” he continued, but this time you could feel the weight of his gaze deepen, “you do know that we’ll have to actually speak to the families, right?”
There was a silent curiosity in his eyes that he didn’t voice, but you knew it was there, though for what exactly it was for you didn’t know. Was he questioning why you were so quiet? If that were the case, you didn’t have an answer; you hadn’t even realised you’d been so quiet during the meeting. Or was he curious about Hannah? You doubted it. With all the research he had done on the Lees and your territory, you guessed he already knew who she was. 
“Relax, Jungkook,” you waved him off, “I’ve been acting as someone else for years. You’ll get your nice and loving wife.”
With that settled you turned back to the window, stifling another yawn with your hand. 
-
-
-
The first thing you notice when you wake up is the fact that you were actually waking up, meaning that at some point during the ride you had fallen asleep. The second thing you noticed as you were waking up was that whatever thing you were leaning on did not feel like the inner side of a car door. That second realisation had you sitting up in your seat instantly, eyes shooting open to understand the situation. 
Outside you could see that there were no longer thick-trunked trees surrounding the road in which you drove on, instead replaced by groups of houses and small apartment buildings. You watched as kids playing in the roughened streets stopped to stare at the sleek black car, their parents no different as they tried to see through the tinted windows with unfiltered curiosity. 
You turned away from the window to take in Jungkook, whose shoulder you realised you’d made your pillow while you’d fallen asleep, only to have your eyes widen. 
To your surprise, Jungkook had fallen asleep as well, with his head resting back against the headrest and lips just slightly parted. Small puffs of breath rhythmically escaped from between them when he exhaled, a telltale sign that he truly was asleep and not just resting his eyes or something. 
The image had you frozen for a moment. He looked so… peaceful. Not that he always looked stressed out. Despite having a killer for a wife, Jungkook seemed to be pretty relaxed most of the time, amused even. But this was a different kind of peace, one that came with a complete lack of thoughts, making him look almost innocent - not the hard leader that you knew him to be. 
Without his gaze on yours preventing it, you also noticed things that you’d never really noticed about him before. Like the length of his eyelashes, or the strong dip of his jawline. His lips had a red undertone and rounded into a slight pout, while his skin was flawless - not a very common characteristic amongst leaders, though not many were as young as Jungkook - aside from the end of a faded scar peeking from behind the collar of his black shirt. The side of his hair that was facing you was slightly ruffled, as if his head had been leaning against something before it had moved to lean against the seat behind him. 
God this man was fine. 
You forced your gaze forward, realising that you were staring. Were you really so deprived that you were finding the man that you were supposed to kill hot? Well, in your defence, you had eyes. Also in your defence, the leaders in the South were all old and slimy dudes that should have been put down years ago. Just looking at Jungkook was like a breath of fresh air after drowning.
But then you paused, realising the weight of the situation. Jungkook was asleep, the same Jungkook who you knew had a gun wedged into his waistband at this very moment. It was risky, he’d definitely notice it missing when he woke up considering his attention to detail, but if you were to grab the gun, and then immediately get out of the car, he’d have no choice but to let you hold onto it until the two of you were out of the public’s eye. It would be more than enough time to secretly kill him and then plant evidence incriminating Jimin. 
Judging from the houses outside, you deemed that you both were close enough to the destination that you could hop out of the car immediately after it stopped. So you turned around, making sure to keep your movements as slow as possible, before you snaked an arm around his torso. You could feel the soft inside of his black blazer as your hand slipped beneath it, fingers just barely ghosting over his equally black dress shirt. It was unlucky that his gun was on the side of his waist facing away from you, but thankfully after checking to make sure he was still asleep, which he was, your fingers wrapped around the metal handle. 
Or at least you thought he had been asleep, because as you pulled the gun from its confines, a hand suddenly engulfing yours made you flinch. 
Your gaze snapped up to him, surprised when you found him wide awake and staring back at you. In all honesty, it wasn’t the fact that you were caught that had you frozen like a deer in headlights, Jungkook was well aware of your intentions, but rather the position that you were in. You’d used your left hand to grab his gun, which left your entire front to be pressed against his chest, while your right hand was resting on his other side, practically caging him against the seat of the car. Barely a breath’s distance separated your face with his, making the intensity of his stare all the more intimidating. 
You tried to pull away from him, but his hand brushed higher to wrap around your wrist and keep you in place, dark brown eyes still boring into yours.
“Put it back.”
It shouldn’t have, but the deepness of his voice sent a tiny shiver down your spine, one that you did everything in your power to make sure Jungkook couldn’t notice. You’d rather be caught dead than having Jungkook think you were into him in any way whatsoever. 
A small part of you, the same one that had persuaded you to drop a good amount of garlic into his cologne just yesterday, also reasoned that you’d never be caught dead taking orders from him as well. Logically speaking, there was no way you could save this attempt at taking his gun, he’d caught you and that was that. And yet, despite that, you didn’t move, hand still clutching the gun which was now hovering over his waistband. 
You felt Jungkook’s fingers tighten slightly around the soft skin of your wrist, the lack of your movement not going unnoticed by him. 
“Put it back, Y/N.”
It only made you want to do the opposite, just to piss him off a bit more, but you knew you were only delaying the inevitable. So, with the tiny devil at your shoulder retreating back to wherever it had come from and with a frustrated breath escaping your lips, you slowly pushed the gun back into his waistband. The action was slow, still dragging it out for as long as possible, until you felt the trigger guard push against the edge of the cloth. Yet, even when you let the handle drop from your grasp, Jungkook’s hand didn’t drop from your wrist. Instead, the edges of his lips twitched upwards.
“So we’ve moved on from poisons now?” He asked instead, voice low as his satisfied gaze stayed fixed on yours, “is my whiskey finally free from your terror?”
Your reply was quick, though your voice was just as low and breathy as his, “I wouldn’t start trusting it just yet.”
You really meant that, considering the new bottles of whiskey Jungkook had ordered had already been spiked not even an hour after they’d been placed in his cabinet. You knew that he knew, making the action pointless, but you were weak in front of that little devil at your shoulder. 
The abrupt sound of the car’s door opening made you jerk back into your seat, ripping your empty hand from Jungkook’s, as you quickly fixed the ruffles in your dress. By the time the driver’s face appeared at the doorway, you were offering him an innocent smile, making sure to keep your eyes bright and lips stuck in a perpetually delighted turn. An amused breath escaped Jungkook as he turned to open his own door. You hadn’t even realised that the car had come to a stop. 
You accepted the driver’s hand as he extended it towards you, the short heel of your white shoes tapping against the grey concrete while you stepped out of the car, grateful suddenly for the fresh air. 
You didn’t know what exactly you were expecting when Jungkook had said that you were going to meet with families. Mostly you had pictured a stage, one that he would stand and speak on, and then a crowd of families standing before it paying close attention to his every word. But there was no such stage in sight, in fact, as you looked around the area you noticed that there was nothing out of the ordinary; just a simple neighbourhood with kids playing in the cracked street and parents standing in their worn front porches. Everyone was staring though, curious eyes staying fixed on Jungkook, and then on you. 
It was a bit daunting if you were being entirely honest with yourself. Yes, you were the daughter of a mafia leader, but you’d never actually been made to make public appearances like this, much less speak at them. Daughters of leaders were more like decoration pieces, hidden away until they were married off. 
Jungkook rounded the car until he was standing at your side, an arm wrapping snuggly around your waist. The action had been hesitant, as if he expected you to push him away or flinch at the touch, but you were beyond trying to fight whatever image of perfection Jungkook was trying to sell; there were bigger issues you needed to worry about now. And maybe a tiny part of you found comfort in it as you noticed all the eyes that were on you now. It was your first public appearance in the Jeon Territory after all, everyone would be curious about the Jeon Jungkook’s new wife. You needed to appear shy for the sake of your act, but you were still able to notice the mixed reactions, some confused, some sceptical, but most were just surprised. 
Jungkook also seemed to be scanning the crowd before he turned towards you, whispering the words in your ear, “let’s get going.”
You didn’t have time to notice the fuss that action had caused in a group of girls before you both began following a guard into a house on your right. He guided you through the doorway, the door already wide open, as you made your way towards what seemed like a living room. The space had a homey vibe, pictures of the family scattered across the walls and lit candles placed on the tables, but it was clear that whoever lived here was struggling: the paint was peeling off the walls, the wooden floor was littered with scuffs and dents, and the furniture looked a day away from crumbling. It pained your heart to see the kitchen barren. 
It was only when you and Jungkook managed to squeeze into the small living room that you finally noticed signs of life. There was an old woman sitting on the only sofa in the room, her expression dejected while her form was hunched forward in a way that you knew was a result of grief and not old age. At the sound of your footsteps her head raised, taking in the two of you with pained eyes. 
You had to mask your surprise when you watched Jungkook lower himself onto a knee before her, “hello Mrs. Hwang.”
The woman, Mrs. Hwang, ignored the greeting, instead shaking her head while keeping her gaze on the hands resting in her lap, “I don’t understand. They keep telling me he’s gone, but I just don’t understand… How could he be gone? How could my beautiful son be gone? What happened to him?”
“Mrs. Hwang,” Jungkook said slowly, his brows pulling together in sympathy, “your son and a few other workers were killed in a construction accident at the West Docks. I’m sorry.”
The tears that had been swimming in her eyes finally began to stream down her cheeks, the news coming from the leader of the Jeons finally confirming what she had seemingly been denying for a while, but you could only try to fan the flames of the anger that ignited in your chest. There was no construction accident, there had been an attack orchestrated by Jimin, and normal people who had nothing to do with the territorial feud had suffered the consequences. This poor woman, for example, had lost her son. She deserved to know the real reason he was gone, deserved to belt out her anger at the actual people responsible, not be fed a cover-up story you knew was only being promoted in order to prevent public unrest.
You watched as Jungkook tried to reassure her, his words artfully compassionate and reassuring, wondering just how much of those words he actually meant. He probably didn’t mean many of them, if any at all. Perhaps this was the method in which he maintained his power? Leaders in the South usually asserted their power by ensuring the public feared them, scaring them so much that even the thought of betrayal had them shaking in fear. But Jungkook was a smart man. Perhaps he realised that being loved by the public was a better method of manipulation, one that produced more loyalty. 
You’d been so deep in thought that when you felt the tap of Jungkook’s black dress shoe on your white ones you almost flinched. He was looking up at you with a pointed look, and it was then that you realised that the woman was staring at you as well, as if she were waiting for you to speak. Jungkook’s words, genuine or not, seemed to have stopped the tears that had been flowing down her cheeks while you’d been distracted because there was almost nothing left of them except the water staining her cheeks. 
Sensing your confusion, Jungkook gave Mrs. Hwang a strained smile, “you must excuse her, she’s still getting used to the North. It can be overwhelming at times.”
Mrs. Hwang nodded in understanding before she turned to face you once again. 
“That’s okay dear. I was just wondering how married life has been treating you. My husband passed away so long ago yet I still find myself missing the companionship even now.”
Oh… 
That was not the kind of question you hesitate at if you want people to get a good impression of your and Jungkook’s relationship, and the look on Jungkook’s face at the moment only confirmed those thoughts. 
“It’s been treating me well,” you answered finally, hesitating on what the right thing to say would be in this situation, “he’s been very good to me.”
It was the wrong thing to say, you realised that at the exact moment Jungkook grimaced and tears started to stream down Mrs. Hwang’s face once again. She nodded in your direction, “my husband treated me well too. How I miss him… And now my son is gone as well, who do I have left?”
Your voice died in your throat, mind unable to come up with anything that could possibly comfort the bawling woman who had lost so much. All you could do was stand dumbly and watch her crumble before you, wishing you could crawl into a hole and stay there forever hidden. 
Jungkook, on the other hand, immediately placed a hand on her knee and began to reassure her once again, comforting words falling from his lips like a gentle stream. He reminded her of how her son and husband were in a better place now, of the friends she still has in the neighbourhood, and then of her granddaughter who needed her to be strong. 
At the mention of her granddaughter, the door of the living room suddenly smacked open, revealing a little girl skipping into the room. She was wearing a sparkly pink shirt and washed out jeans which were fraying at the edges, while a worn doll hung from her fingers. Despite this, there was a bright smile on her face as she walked deeper into the room. 
The sight of Jungkook slowed her down in her tracks, replacing the once innocent smile with a deep blush painting her cheeks. Her gaze shifted away from him, clearly shy from her sudden crush. But then she caught sight of her grandmother and her gaze became worried. She made her way to her side quickly before gently placing the doll on her grandmother’s lap, also placing a comforting hand on her arm.
“Don’t cry grandma,” she said with a frown, using her other hand to push a few strands of her grandmother’s hair behind her ear. The girl turned in Jungkook’s direction, though the blush was back and her eyes wouldn’t meet his, “I keep telling her not to be sad, but she keeps crying.”
It was then when she caught sight of someone else in the room, making her turn to face in your direction. Her reaction was immediate, eyes lighting up in excitement as she took in your dress, then your shoes, and then your makeup. The girl quickly jumped from the side of the sofa and skipped over to you, eyes wide in childlike amazement. 
“Your dress!” She squealed, continuing to skip in a circle around you as she scanned you from top to bottom, “it’s so pretty! I’m going to ask Daddy to get me one just like it when he comes back!”
The last sentence felt like a hammer to your chest, and you could see Jungkook’s expression also sadden from behind her. How long would it take this little girl to realise that her father would not be coming back? That his life had been taken from him only because of the cruel way in which this world was structured?
Before you could think much of it, you slowly lowered yourself to the ground, knees touching the cold wood as you became eye to eye with the excited girl before you. It gave her the opportunity to marvel at your hair and the light sparkles on your eyelids, her small hand brushing against the frills of your dress softly as her excitement only heightened. 
“You look just like a princess!” She continued. But then a thought seemed to strike her, suddenly making her shy, “do you think I could grow up to be a princess like you one day?”
You smiled at her, using every bit of your self control not to cry for this little girl and her innocence, “I think you’ll grow up to be an even prettier princess one day.”
Her smile brightened again, her confidence restored in that quick way only a child’s confidence could. You wanted that confidence to stick though, knowing just how quickly the cruelty of this world could destroy it . 
“But do you want me to tell you a little secret?” You asked, to which she nodded hastily, also desperate in that way only children were. 
“You don’t need pink dresses and sparkles to be a princess.” You gently took hold of her hand, giving her tiny fingers a comforting squeeze. This new information seemed to shock her, her eyes widening as a surprised gasp escaped her lips, “what matters is your heart. Your grandmother lost someone very dear to her, and she’ll need someone to help her get through her sadness.”
The girl straightened up immediately, chin rising as if to meet the challenge head on, “don’t worry, Daddy always makes me in charge of helping grandma. I’ll always take care of her.”
“That’s very responsible of you,” you praised.
“I am! I’m very-” She struggled with the words for a moment until she finally seemed to manage the beast, “responsible!”
An amused breath escaped your lips at her childish confidence, despite the sorrow tugging at your heartstrings. 
“And when you realise what you’ve lost,” you continued, this time speaking to the girl she will become when the devastating news finally hits her, “your grandma will be there to get you through it as well. You won’t be alone, okay?”
She nodded innocently, the weight of your words flying over her head. But that was okay, she’d realise their meaning when the time came. You could only hope that they would provide at least some comfort when it really mattered. 
Without another thought, you reached behind your head to unravel the silky pink ribbon in your hair, making sure to smooth it out before you held it out to her. She squealed in delight, grabbing the ribbon and softly running a hand over the silk material. 
But then she suddenly looked up from it and threw her arms around your neck, the spontaneity of the action causing you to flinch. 
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She continued to squeal, “I think you’re the best princess in the world!”
With her chin laying on your shoulder, your gaze automatically met Jungkook’s as your hands hesitantly raised to rest on her back. He was still kneeling in front of Mrs. Hwang, but his hand had dropped from her knee to his own, realising that it was unneeded as a fond smile was overtaking her expression at the sight of her happy granddaughter. Jungkook’s expression was unreadable as he watched the girl jump excitedly in your embrace. 
The two of you only stayed a few minutes longer, only because the girl had insisted that you tie the ribbon in her hair, before Jungkook stood and cleared his throat, a clear sign that you both should get going. You hadn’t even realised how heavy the atmosphere had been in the house until you were walking through the doorway, finally able to take in a full breath of fresh air. A guard was already standing before the front door, turning around to lead you both to the next house when he noticed your presence. 
“Well… that was interesting,” Jungkook commented, his face turning in your direction to meet your gaze. 
You were quiet as you followed behind him, making sure to pull your act back up in the process. You hadn’t realised that it had sort of dropped when you began speaking to the girl, the heat of the moment enough to make you forget. 
You didn’t turn to meet his gaze, instead scanning the area and people that surrounded you both as you spoke, “I’m not very good at it.”
His head tilted in question. 
In hindsight, you should have told him earlier, but perhaps you were a tiny bit embarrassed of it. Now, though, the cat was out of the bag, so there was no point in trying to hide it from him now.
“The wife thing? The hugging and laughing and kissing? I can do that,” you finally admitted, “but comforting? I’m not the best at it.”
That was an understatement, but you were sure Jungkook probably knew that by now. His gaze felt heavy as he watched you for a moment, studying your expression. Then he turned away, keeping his eyes fixed before him as he spoke words you were not expecting in the slightest.
“You did alright.”
-
-
-
It was early in the evening when you and Jungkook finally visited the last house, the sun just barely visible above the horizon when you had crossed over the street to follow behind the guard for the last time today. You had visited at least 20 houses, all of which weighed your heart down more and more until you had felt like you were dragging it against the concrete beneath you. Some had lost their son, their brother, their husband, all of whom were important not only because they were loved, but also because they had been the sole provider of the family. You committed each grief-filled face to memory, promising that pain like that would be a thing of the past. 
It only made you more determined to accomplish your goal. 
Now you stood behind Jungkook as he spoke to a woman in her kitchen, listening attentively to her describe the kind man that was her late husband with a bittersweet fondness. His expression was sympathetic as she spoke, nodding every so often with a gentle smile, while the woman thanked him again and again for being here and helping them. 
If your observations proved anything, people certainly respected him around here. Whenever he would pass by in the street or when he spoke with the families, you watched many bow in his presence or express their gratitude for him. But no one ever invaded his space, and they definitely didn’t try to speak to him unless spoken to. It was all in all a respectful appreciation for the man they thought was a good leader. It was such an odd sight to you, being so used to people in the South trembling in fear in the presence of a leader, that it seemed almost foreign. 
Your gaze travelled around the room as you continued to stand with your hands clasped in front of yourself, casually surveying the small area while simultaneously making sure to absently follow the conversation in case you were spoken to. After your visit to the first house, you’d decided that it was best if you stayed as quiet as possible seeing as you were a trainwreck when it came to comforting people. Sure, you’d sort of saved yourself when you had spoken to the little girl, but you had clearly said the wrong things when you’d spoken to Mrs. Hwang. It was an embarrassing shortcoming on your part, but you also couldn’t really blame yourself. It’s not like you had any examples from when you were growing up to draw on. 
You were pulled from your thoughts, however, when you noticed a quick shadow flit in your peripheral vision, making you discreetly turn your head in that direction. For a moment, the doorway in which your gaze had settled on was empty aside from a guard who stood still in front of it, to the point that you thought you had imagined it. But then a fluffy black tail slithered from behind the wall, making you freeze in place. The tail brushed against the wooden floor before its owner turned around, the familiar face and collar moving into view. 
Persilla’s feline eyes stayed fixed on you as she sat herself down for a moment, tilting her head as she watched you meet her gaze in surprise. She was going completely unnoticed by everyone else in the room, though that part didn’t surprise you. That cat was a master of camouflage after all. She was only seen when she wanted to be. 
Which was why her presence had you wondering what she was doing here. 
The answer to that question came when she suddenly stood, walking dangerously close to the guard as she crossed him and made her way into the hallway slowly. She easily blended into the shadows as she paused and turned back for a moment, making sure that you were still watching her, before she finally slipped into one of the rooms which had a door that was slightly ajar. 
The message was clear to you: she wanted you to follow her. 
You glanced at Jungkook and the woman, who were still deep in conversation thankfully, before you silently shuffled to the doorway where the guard was standing idly. 
“Excuse me?” You spoke, voice soft as a feather. The man’s firm gaze shifted to you, “is there a bathroom anywhere that I could use?”
You could feel Jungkook sneak a glance in your direction, but the woman was still speaking with him, keeping him occupied. You’d made sure to keep your voice loud enough so that he could hear the bathroom excuse though, not wanting him to suspect anything. 
The guard nodded and began to guide you down the same hall Persilla had walked through. Then, to your relief, he stopped in front of the door she had disappeared behind, unknowingly making your life much easier. 
“Thank you,” you smiled at him before walking into the bathroom and closing the door behind you. You immediately began to survey the small space, taking in the toilet and small sink, but your brows furrowed when you failed to find your favourite black cat. 
You kneeled before the sink to open the cabinet underneath it, frowning when it also was empty. 
“Persilla?” You whispered, so silently you could barely hear yourself. 
That was when you took notice of the window beside the sink. It was high up and blurred, but what really made you pause was the fact that it was open. Perhaps Persilla had jumped out of it before you’d entered the room? If she was expecting you to follow her, though, she clearly underestimated your size…
You flinched backwards when she suddenly dropped from said window, paws soundlessly making contact with the tiles before she circled your form. When she was satisfied she sat in front of you, showing you her neck. Once again, wedged between her fur and collar, was a small folded piece of paper. 
“He better not make a messenger out of you,” you practically mouthed with a grumble before you reached out and slipped the note from her collar, unfolding it curiously. The handwriting was familiar as your eyes scanned through the words, though there was only one person the note could be from anyway. 
I heard he has a knack for detail, so I’m assuming that’s why it’s not done yet. No problem. But we really should meet soon, there’s something I need to tell you. (I would’ve let myself in now, but your husband is waiting right outside the door so I had to make good use of Persilla) 
~ H
P.S. I left you a little gift in the toilet tank. I think you might like it. 
Your brows furrowed at the last part, gaze immediately shifting to the toilet in the corner of the room. It was a standard two piece, one with a removable back cover that made it easier to access the tank. 
You pushed yourself off the tiled floor and made your way towards it before grabbing the heavy cover and hauling it upwards with a strained huff, eyes immediately scanning the inside. There were shiny metal pipes intersecting with each other and valves protruding in some places, but it was a black handle wedged between the mess that caught your eye. You grabbed it and pulled it out of the tank, easing the cover back into place with a smile. 
Finally…
Delight was all you could feel as you rotated the shiny new handgun in your hand, taking in its familiar shape. You pressed against the release button first, catching the magazine expertly in your other hand as it popped out of the handle and checked its contents. It was full of ammunition, allowing you to push it back into the gun in satisfaction. Then your attention shifted to the silencer that had been screwed into the gun’s barrel. It wouldn’t entirely silence a shot, but it was still better than nothing and it could definitely come in handy. He knew you well, didn’t he…
You unscrewed the silencer from the gun and then shoved both into the holster at your thigh, making sure to smooth over your dress quickly. One look in the mirror had you satisfied, even eyes like Jungkook’s wouldn’t be able to tell there was a gun concealed under here. He would have no clue what was coming. 
You crouched down to scratch Persilla’s chin, promising her some good salmon for being such a good girl, before she jumped out the window and scurried off. Unable to contain your own curiosity you walked over to the window and gave it a quick glance, but there was no one in sight. 
Just as you had been told, Jungkook was standing right outside the door when you opened it after flushing the toilet and washing your hands to give the illusion that you’d really used the bathroom. You weren’t surprised when you watched his eyes dart behind you to carefully scan the bathroom, but you knew there was nothing to see. Everything that mattered was now strapped to your thigh discreetly hidden underneath your dress. 
“Checking the bathroom after a lady uses it is a bit much, don’t you think?” You couldn’t help but comment, keeping your expression innocent as you noticed the guard standing patiently at the end of the hallway. 
Jungkook’s eyes narrowed in your direction, but there was an amused turn to his lips. You maintained your expression as you felt his arm wrap around yours and pull you closer, whispering the words into your ear as he began to guide you out of the house, “and trying to kill your husband isn’t?”
“A woman can’t have hobbies?”
He steered you along the street, passing by crowds of people who stood at a distance around the neighbourhood, as you both made your way back to the car. Because of that you had to keep a smile on your face as you spoke, despite the nature of your words. 
Jungkook raised an eyebrow to pair with his smile, aware of the crowd’s eyes on you both. There was no doubt that, through their eyes, you both looked like a nice couple speaking about nice things, far from the truth of course, “there are many husbands that wouldn’t be so understanding about your particular hobby. I think I deserve some credit.”
“Dead men don’t get credit.”
“Good thing I’m not dead yet, princess.”
You wished you could shoot him a nasty glare to wipe the cocky grin off his face, but you could only watch him innocently as he opened the door of the black car and waited for you to get in, an arm resting on the top of the car’s door nonchalantly. Taking the opportunity, you placed a hand on his shoulder, giving the impression that you were thanking him for the gesture, but instead said, “I wouldn’t count on that for long.”
Jungkook shut the door behind you in amusement after you sat in the car, ready to join you in the backseat until he felt his phone vibrate suddenly against his thigh. He stayed standing on your side of the car, resting a hand over its top as his other hand went to grab the phone out of his pocket and bring it to his ear. 
“What have you got for me?” He asked, casually surveying the area as he waited for a response. His brows furrowed when he heard the person on the other end of the line hesitate before he spoke. 
“Hello sir,” he finally said, to which Jungkook huffed, knowing whatever was about to be said wasn’t going to please him.
“Out with it, I don’t have all day.”
The man on the other end of the line sighed, “I was just contacted by the informant who has been working on what you ordered him to do…”
Jungkook frowned, remembering how he’d asked the informant to investigate your room and the man you’d been having hushed phone calls with before your marriage. He had wondered why it was taking the informant so long to get back to him, but Jungkook trusted the informant with his life, that’s why he had placed him in the Lee mansion in the first place. If things were being delayed, there was a reason. 
One that was about to be explained to him right now. 
“The informant just told me that he wasn’t able to identify the man.”
Jungkook’s grip on his phone tightened at the news, brows furrowing even further, “what?”
“He said he searched through Mrs. Y/N’s room from top to bottom, but was unable to find anything out of the ordinary, nor anything related to the mystery man. Then he traced her prior phone calls, but none led to anywhere significant. The only thing the informant was able to figure out was that the man goes by the letter H.”
Jungkook mulled over the information for a moment, tapping his finger against the hood of the car while deep in thought. H… that was practically nothing to go by. Why were you talking to a man that seemed so untraceable? What did he have to hide? What did you have to hide?
Jungkook’s jaw ticked. 
“What do you mean tracing the phone calls led to nowhere significant?”
“He explained that the locations were all scattered. Some were in the South, some were in the North, some were in the western and eastern regions, and a couple were even outside the country altogether,” he explained, then seemed to hesitate on his next words, “the informant mentioned that there were a couple locations that may seem slightly promising, but he admitted that he doubts they would prove to be very useful.”
“Tell him to send you the locations, and then send some men to check them out,” Jungkook said immediately.
His gaze dropped on you, who was already staring back at him from your seat. 
“That man is not a ghost. We’ll find him, whether he likes it or not.”
-
-
-
Unlike earlier, you nor Jungkook slept as the car raced through the highway, nothing but the darkness of night visible from outside of the window aside from the occasional streetlamp. You’d already been on the road for about an hour or two, the entirety of the trip drenched in silence. 
Jungkook clearly had something on his mind, you could tell from the way his eyes were clouded over in thought as they stayed glued to the window. You hadn’t been able to hear what he’d talked about on the phone, so you’d settled for deciphering his expressions. He’d seemed frustrated by something he’d been told, that was as much as you could make out. 
The weight of the gun on your thigh felt heavy, the need to grab it and use it itching against your fingers. Technically speaking, you had an opportunity right at this very moment. You could shoot Jungkook dead, bang on the divider to get the driver to stop the car, and then shoot him dead too before he put two and two together. It would be simple, and you’d also be able to run to the nearest sign of life and dramatically explain how a man associated with Park Jimin had hijacked the car and killed Jungkook and the driver, leaving you alive to relay the message. They’d buy that in a second. It would be perfect.
The only thing holding you back was the fact that you would have to kill the driver. Jungkook was a mafia leader, and mafia leaders were cruel and merciless. He deserved what was coming. But this driver… he was just a guy doing his job. He might even have a family waiting for him at home, and after the day you’d had, the thought of another family losing someone dear to them made you squirm in your seat.
Realistically, you knew your goal couldn’t be complete without the deaths of a few innocents. But even that thought wasn’t enough to get your fingers to grab the gun at your thigh. A frustrated breath escaped your lips at the lack of your action, one that of course, didn’t go unnoticed by Jungkook. 
“Someone seems frustrated,” he commented, the first time either of you have spoken after entering the car. You rolled your eyes, refusing to face him. But Jungkook continued to observe you intensely, giving you the impression that he wasn’t ready to let the conversation end so easily this time. 
“You know, you seem so adamant on killing me,” he said slowly, “if I’m going to have my wife perpetually working on my death, I think I at least deserve to know why she’s so passionate for the cause.”
It didn’t go over your head that he was suddenly so interested in your intentions after that ominous phone call, and you had no problem calling him out on it, “I heard you had an interesting phone call earlier. Maybe you should focus on that instead.”
“I am. I’m trying to find a pesky man that goes by the letter H, you wouldn’t happen to know him would you?”
You froze, surprise freezing your limbs as you wondered where Jungkook had gotten that name from. Had you messed up somewhere? You’d burned the first note you received and flushed the second down the toilet, so there was no way he could have gotten hold of them. Besides that, you’d never uttered his name out loud since marrying Jungkook. No, there was no way he could have found out from you. 
Jungkook smiled, as if reading your thoughts, “it seems you do.”
You shrugged, trying to collect yourself, “H knows everyone and no one.”
“But you know him better than others. Tell me, is he the reason you want me dead?”
You turned to meet his gaze, the taunt in your voice evident, “maybe you should find him and ask him yourself.”
“I will. He won’t be able to hide from me forever.”
You chuckled, answer instant, “doubtful.”
That made Jungkook tilt his head at you, an evident question. 
“He’s only found when he wants to be found. Otherwise, he’ll have you running in circles like a clueless pet.”
For some reason your words seemed to irritate Jungkook as you noticed his gaze narrow.
“You seem pretty fond of him.”
You didn’t answer, your gaze instead drifting back to the window. Up until now you’d been driving through a thick forest, the concrete road surrounded by enormous trees that seemed to extend into the sky. But the window on Jungkook’s side showcased the trees starting to dwindle, empty patches emerging in the thicket occasionally until they finally gave way to a grand view of the ocean. If you squinted your eyes enough you could make out a large docks system in the distance, full of enormous ships and warehouses. 
The view had caught your eye though, distracting you from the sorry excuse of a conversation you were having with Jungkook. It was the light that had initially caught your attention, more specifically the sheer intensity of it. The docks were lined with the same street lamps that were brightening the road you were currency driving on, yet it looked like someone dropped the sun into one of the warehouses. 
At first you thought perhaps you were overthinking it, but then Jungkook followed your line of sight, peering critically through the window for a moment before he suddenly sat up straight. It was then that you saw it as well; at the edge of one of the warehouses, a roaring fire was beginning to destroy everything in its vicinity. It was only visible now because it had moved on from behind the warehouse, engulfing the structure itself at an alarming rate. 
A sudden explosion shook the docks, so powerful that you could feel the vibrations of the shock despite your distance from the area. At that moment you felt the car screech to a stop, the momentum pushing both you and Jungkook painfully against your seatbelts for a split second, before Jungkook’s phone suddenly started to ring. 
He picked it up on the first bell, not bothering to hide the call from you this time. You could hear loud sounds erupt from the phone the second the line was accepted, a man’s voice barely audible above the chaos. 
“What’s going on?” Jungkook asked hastily, eyes glued to the wreck. He looked as if he wanted to jump out of the car and run to it, but the distance was far too large for him to get there at any reasonable time. 
The man on the other line grunted for a moment, yelling orders to another before he shouted, “sir! There’s been a few explosions at the West Docks! Three of our warehouses have been destroyed, we’re trying to staunch the flames in the fourth one at the moment!”
“Forget it,” Jungkook shook his head immediately, “order thirty guards to the area to make sure there aren’t any actual threats around and to help out with the flames. And take anyone who’s injured to the hospital right away.”
“Of course, sir!” The man on the other line shouted instantly, but then he hesitated before he spoke again, “but sir… who could have done this?”
Jungkook was silent, and you knew you both were thinking of the same man’s name. 
“Just do as I’ve said. I want the least amount of casualties possible.”
There was an incoherent sound on the other end of the line that resembled a “yes sir” before it went dead. Jungkook’s hand instantly went to brush through his hair, the gears in his head clearly working overtime as he seemed to be deep in thought. Before you could say anything though, his phone rang again and this time your eyes widened as you got a clear view of the caller ID. It was the man that you both were thinking of not even a full minute ago. 
Park Jimin. 
This time Jungkook did wait to pick up the call, instead staring at the screen for a few seconds longer than he should have. The silence in the car stretched, nothing but the sound of his ringtone reverberating throughout the small space, as you noticed his muscles tense under his black suit and the grip on his phone tighten to a point that you were sure it would snap the thing in half. This was probably the most tense you’d ever seen him look. 
Jungkook finally grabbed the handle of the door and threw it open, stepping out of the car without so much as a sound. You watched him close the door behind him, only pausing for a moment to say something to the driver before you watched him disappear into the thick forest on your side of the road, leaving you and the driver alone in a dark and empty road. 
Wow… he really did not want you to hear that conversation. 
-
-
-
Jungkook cut through the trees of the forest, the sound of his ringtone practically mocking him as he continued to walk way deeper than he knew was necessary. He couldn’t help it. Park Jimin’s mere name angered him, and cutting through the trees of the forest was helping him direct that anger onto something unimportant. Because he wouldn’t be able to let it out on Jimin. He had to be calm, collected, and even amused in front of that bastard, nothing that could give away just how well Jimin managed to get under Jungkook’s skin. 
But he eventually came to a stop, realising that he couldn’t go traipsing through the forest forever. The phone still vibrated against his hand as he relaxed his muscles, slipping into the Jeon Jungkook that was unbothered and coolheaded. The one that wouldn’t allow Jimin to have the upper hand because of his practically ancient anger.
Jungkook brought the phone to his ear and, finally, accepted the call.
The line was quiet for a second, as if Jimin expected Jungkook to say the first greeting, but he was just as quiet, forcing Jimin to be the conversation initiator. 
“Hello Jungkook, I was just calling to confirm if you received my gift or not.”
His voice was just as melodically taunting as Jungkook remembered it from years ago, the words instantly causing him to clench his jaw. But he relaxed it once again, knowing that he needed to stay clear headed.
“All that just for me? I must say you flatter me, Jimin.”
“How can I not flatter an old friend?” And Jungkook could practically hear the smile in his voice, knowing how much the mention of old friend would make his blood boil. It did, but Jungkook pushed down the feeling of strangling him through the phone.
“But to what do I owe the pleasure of this sudden gift?” He asked, knowing full well what the attack meant. But he was interested in how Jimin would explain it, whether he would put it plainly or jump around the topic like a coward. 
The line was silent for a second, as if Jimin were choosing which angle he wanted to go by, before he finally spoke again. 
“Why don’t we speak about it over dinner?“
Jungkook’s eyes widened in surprise, the words catching him off guard. How could Jimin be inviting him over to his territory so easily, after years of silent animosity? Sure, Taehyung and Yoongi have been at each other’s throats the past few years, Taehyung constantly having to fight off the Mins at his border, but the border between the Parks and Jeons have been silent, much like their leaders. 
Jungkook’s brows furrowed, “you’re inviting me to the Park Territory?”
“Yes, I believe it’s time we settle a couple things, don’t you think?”
Settle a couple things was much too ambiguous of a phrase for Jungkook to decipher. Did he want to sort out the terms for a war? Or was Jimin beyond morality now and instead going straight to setting a trap? Jungkook wasn’t really sure what Jimin was capable of after the warehouse of bodies he’d witnessed a week ago. 
His doubts kept him from speaking, allowing nothing but the serene sounds of the dark forest around him to fill the silence. Jimin seemed to sense his hesitance, letting the silence stretch for only a few moments before he chuckled into the line. 
“Come on, Jungkook. What will it be?”
-
-
-
This was an opportunity.
Currently, your husband was alone, surrounded solely by trees, in an environment dark enough that you could very much get away with shooting him dead and not being blamed for it. You wouldn’t even need to shoot the driver to cover up your tracks, lessening your guilty conscience to a decent amount. It was perfect. The only issue now, was how you were going to get into the forest without arousing suspicion. 
You tapped on the divider, waiting only a couple seconds before you pulled the panel down to reveal the professionally dressed driver. 
“Excuse me? I need to use the bathroom,” you announced, trying to sound as urgent as possible while simultaneously keeping your voice naive. 
The driver, on the other hand, looked as though you’d slammed him in the stomach with a sledgehammer. 
“Ma’am…” He spoke hesitantly, “you’ll have to wait.”
“But I need to go nowww,” you whined, trying to put every bit of spoiled brat into your voice as you could. Then you turned your face towards the forest Jungkook had disappeared into, widening your eyes to give the impression that an idea had suddenly popped into your head, before turning back to face him, “I know! I’ll just go in the forest very quickly.”
Without a response, you pushed the door open and stepped out, causing the driver to scramble out of the car as well, pure panic washing over his expression at your determination. 
“Please ma’am! I can’t let you go out there in the dead of night.”
“Why?” You asked, sporting a confused, and very much dumb, look, “it’s fine! I’ll just go towards my husband. He’ll protect me.”
The mention of Jungkook seemed to visibly calm the man, though there was still a lingering hesitance in his expression, “let me walk you to him.”
You waved him off, praying that he let you go without a fuss. You didn’t want things to get more complicated than they needed to be, or it wouldn’t end well for the man before you, “he’s right at the edge, don’t worry! I saw him and everything!”
You turned around and began walking towards the thicket of trees and, to your utmost relief, you didn’t hear the sounds of the driver following. 
It took you about a minute of walking through the forest to realise that Jungkook was, in fact, not at its very edge, which left you trekking deeper into the thicket of trees, squinting as your eyes adjusted to the surrounding darkness. You could hear the occasional sound of a bird, that strange humm that always seemed to be present in the wilderness, and the skittering of small animals against fallen branches, but there was no sound of your own expert footsteps to your satisfaction. Jungkook wouldn’t be able to hear what was coming. 
Once you’d created a considerable distance between yourself and the driver, to the point that you were certain he would no longer be able to catch sight of you, your innocent smile dropped, replaced immediately by a look of focus as you reached for the gun at your thigh. 
Your gaze wasted no time in surveying the darkened wilderness around you, flickering down only briefly to double check the magazine once again. Your surroundings were still empty of human life, no signs of Jungkook anywhere near you for the time being. Your brows couldn’t help but furrow, wondering why he’d decided to go hiking to take one phone call, even if it was from Jimin. 
You grabbed the silencer from your holster and began to screw it onto the barrel, strolling until you caught the faint sight of a dark silhouette in the distance. The sight had you crouching instantly, fingers still twisting the silencer into the barrel as you began inching closer to the figure, using the thick trunks of the trees to hide yourself from view. The closer you got, the more the silhouette began to shape into Jungkook, his black hair falling into his eyes as his gaze was directed downwards while one hand held his phone up to his ear. 
You finally hid yourself behind a tree that was directly to his right, letting go of the now fully attached silencer to instead rest your finger against the trigger guard. You were close enough that you could hear his end of the conversation now, one that seemed to have just begun.
“All that just for me? I must say you flatter me, Jimin,” he said, voice cool and collected, but you could see the fist his other hand had become. 
Something about Jimin got under Jungkook’s skin, that was clear enough to you by now. But you wondered, why? Jungkook seemed like a man that was unmoved by a challenge, enjoyed them even, according to your observations these past four days and also according to his reaction to your presence. And yet, small attacks and calls from Jimin were enough to move him? No… there was something deeper to this reaction, something personal between Jimin and Jungkook that you didn’t know about. Some sort of history perhaps?
“But to what do I owe the pleasure of this sudden gift?”
You shook your head, ridding yourself of the thoughts. It didn’t matter anymore. You were about to shoot Jungkook dead, making the answers to these questions useless for you. This little mission of yours was over. 
You watched a squirrel scurry down the trunk of a tree to your left, the small animal cloaked in the shadows of the darkness. Eager to get this over with, you placed your hand on the top of the gun, slowly pulling the slide backwards. At the exact moment you heard a click sound from your gun, the squirrel crashed into a pile of leaves, muffling the racking of your slide. Still, your gaze stayed fixed on Jungkook’s expression just in case as both your hands went to hold the handle. His brows were furrowed, but his eyes were still turned downwards, giving the impression that perhaps Jimin had said something he wasn’t expecting. 
Distantly you wondered what it could have been, but physically you brought your gun up from the side of the trunk, pushing the thought out of your mind. 
You felt all thoughts flow out of your head like they always did whenever you were aiming, this time your barrel pointing straight in the direction of Jungkook’s temple. When you saw a lack of any reaction from him, you knew it was over.
Your finger finally pressed against the trigger.
Goodbye, Jungkook.
“You’re inviting me to the Park Territory?”
You froze, your finger stalling as it pushed the trigger by about a third of its pathway, the words making your eyes widen in surprise. It had to be a misunderstanding, your luck couldn’t be so good - or would it be bad in this case? - that Park Jimin was inviting Jeon Jungkook over to his territory? 
You strained your ears, desperately trying to hear Jimin’s answer to the question. You even dangerously pushed your head forward a bit, risking being detected by Jungkook, but he was much too busy staring at the ground with slightly widened eyes to notice your form, clearly just as surprised as you.
You pulled back behind the trunk when you managed to make out a yes from Jimin’s end of the line, causing you to suck in a breath. 
This changed things. 
If Jungkook were to be killed in the Park Territory it wouldn’t just cause tensions between the northern territories, it would instantly cause all out war. Killing a leader while he was visiting another territory was a huge no no, no matter what region of the country you were from. It signified at least some form of ethics in a world that was so unethical, and surprisingly you’d never met a territory that didn’t honour that rule. To the point that when leaders broke that rule, it was instant chaos. All it would take was for Jungkook to die on Park soil for both the Jeons and Kims to retaliate with full force, no room for negotiations or apologies. 
And the best part was that, if Jungkook were to go, he would have to take you. Leaders always took their wives whenever they travelled or visited other territories to assert their power. If Jungkook ended up going to the Park Territory without you, he would give off the impression that he was scared he wouldn't be able to protect you should something go wrong, making him look weak. Mr. Perfect Image would never have that, especially in the face of the one person clearly trying to take over his territory. 
Now it all depended on his answer. 
Your handgun continued to stay pinned on Jungkook’s head, finger still pressing against the trigger as you watched him stare into the ground before him. You could practically see the gears turning in his brain, going over the advantages and disadvantages of his options while his lips were pressed into a firm line. Whether he survived or not tonight was all dependent on the answer he gave now.
You could feel your muscles tensing in anticipation, the natural sounds of the forest blurring into the background as you focused on the man before you. 
Jungkook’s head suddenly lifted, staring straight ahead of him as the chaos of his thoughts seemed to subside. You automatically adjusted your aim, preparing yourself before he finally spoke.
“Fine.”
Your finger instantly lifted off the trigger to let it bounce back into place, pairing with the sound of Jungkook ending the phone call. Your arm dropped to your side as the realisation washed over you. 
The decision had been made, you were going to visit the Parks. 
But one thing had become more clear to you at this very moment. You had just given up a good opportunity to end this man, one that may not show itself again, which meant you could not let it be in vain. No matter what happened there, no matter how you had to do it, Jungkook was dying in the Park Territory. There was no room for failure now, only the end of what needed to be done. 
You’d do anything to make sure of it. 
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A/N: Things are about to get very physical 😏 Also comments, reblogs, and likes are appreciated!
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Our Little Love part eight - OT7 Mafia/Yandere au
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Mr Kim has a chapter all to himself of 6.8K words, please enjoy and PLEASE let me know what you think. Trigger warnings: manipulation, coercion, corruption, interrogation, mentions of murder and other crimes, swearing, jealousy, possessive yandere behaviour, fingering, orgasm denial, mirror sex, light choking. I am awful with warnings, please forgive me.
Namjoon wasn’t all that impressed with seeing the Chief of police visiting his cell, the syndicate boss was dressed too well to belong there, it was almost an eyesore. A glance to the camera, the normal red blinking light absent tells him all he needs to know. There were no eyes or ears to this conversation. 
“I thought I paid you to keep your men in line,” Namjoon says in lieu of greeting. “Was a bullet to the knee not warning enough for your dear Captain?”
“He wasn’t an issue when I spoke to him, the man was on leave!” the chief replied. “Your girl was the problem he-”
“Be very careful how you finish that sentence,” he advised with a deep angry rumble from his chest. “I am well aware who is at fault here, and regardless of what our little love does, she is never to blame.”
Chief Lee Soo-man only nods once, biting back his complaints.
“I asked you to sort out Kim Suho, I told you to keep him in check,” Namjoon growls. “Keeping your pockets full isn’t an act of charity Lee, it’s a purchase. I own you.”
“Yes sir,” he mumbles in response. “I assure you this arrest is just a formality, the case won’t stand once it’s revealed Detective L/n-”
The glare the man in the blazerless three piece suit gave him was enough to stop him in his tracks. Right, he couldn’t involve you in this, that was going to make things harder than they needed to be.
“What do you recommend then sir?” he asks when he finds his voice and wavering courage. 
Namjoon sighs harshly, and the Chief swears he can almost see smoke. 
“I want to be alone with my little love,” it’s not a request, the chief didn’t let the soft lilt of his fool him. 
“I don’t know how that would be poss-”
“I want-” Namjoon cuts in, unable to bear another second of this blithering idiot, “her to be the one to interrogate me. And I can trust you understand the rest.”
“Y-yessssir,” he stutters, not completely hearing the words between the lines, and that was clear enough on his face. 
“I want her alone, Sooman,” Namjoon repeats himself, if this were one of his men he would never have needed to. “I don’t want a single soul witness to what I’m going to do to her.”
Suho tugs you along by the arm, stumbling in his urgent pace, pulling you out of ear shot.
“We have a problem.”
“What problem?”
“I’m technically on health leave, brass says I can’t interrogate him,” he stares a hole into you as if his eyes were telling you the rest but you couldn’t understand.
“Okay so who’s replacing you?”
He huffs out a breath of air from his nose, knowing you weren’t going to like the command from way over his head.
Your heart beats hard in anticipation, why was he looking at you like that?
“As far as Brass are aware you were deep undercover,” Suho informs you slowly, deliberately, looking like he was about to tear your world to trash. He sighs, unable to get the words out.
“Suho what?”
“They want you to interrogate him,” he breathes, you think you’ve misheard him, but you know you haven’t.
Your world spins, you’re already shaking your head.
“I can’t,” you whisper, he knows full well that you can’t. “I resigned, I’m not a detective anymore.”
He sighs again, hesitation in his eyes. 
“I never processed it,” he confesses.
“Y-you di-”
“I couldn’t, I knew you would see reason, I knew you would come back,” he doesn’t let you process the shock, explaining himself quickly. 
“Suho I can’t I can’t,” you beg, the conviction you had to punish them now suddenly taking a back seat as fear overtakes you, “right now they believe I was deep undercover but he’s not going to let that-“
“Listen to me,” he interrupts you before you can fully submerge into a panic attack, taking your hand in his. “I’m going to be in the next room, as soon as he says anything that compromises you, I’ll turn off the cameras, okay?”
“But-“
You’re interrupted again when the door opens, both of you whipping your heads to see him being transferred by four officers to the interrogation room. His eyes find you, staring stoic holes into you before his gaze finds Suho’s hands comforting yours. The snarl of displeasure is brief but you definitely see it, and you can’t breathe.
Suho draws your attention back to him, tugging your hand softly.
“Do you trust me Y/n?” he implores you, eyes searching yours in a way that made Namjoon want to strangle him with the chains on his handcuffs. You look up at your Captain with such light in your eyes, a way you should never look at another man, and then you have the audacity to nod. 
You’ve done this a hundred times, if not more. So why were you hesitating at the door? Your hand on the handle, all you had to do was turn it and face the music but you couldn’t even manage finding your breath. 
Interrogation was a science, it was like riding a bike, you knew what you had to do, you had to command the room. It almost sounded like a joke, the worst one you’d ever heard. Command a room when Kim Namjoon was in it? 
The thought makes you hyperventilate. No, it wasn’t going to be easy but you could control what you could. You borrowed clothes from an old colleague, a skirt and blouse, simple but professional. Suho’s old blazer too, as if layers would protect you. You had splashed water on your face in the bathroom, using makeup from evidence to make yourself look presentable, composed. Your impromptu freshening up had meant you left the syndicate leader waiting for a long time, and it absolutely 100% was not because you were trying to kill time, it was to make him stew in the room, a technique you had used multiple times prev- who were you trying to convince? 
You needed to get this over with. 
Your face is impassive when you finally open the door, his gaze is on you immediately and you can feel a certain type of guilt and shame try to seep its way into you, but you push it down far enough that you can pretend it’s not there.
“Mr Kim Namjoon,” you greet him stoically.
“Detective L/n,” he returns, playing along with a small smile, as if seeing an old acquaintance after a long time. The way he addressed you shouldn’t cut you, logically it made no sense not when you’re the one that got him in the box, but it did. 
You approach the table he’s chained to, looking at the wood instead of his eyes as if he didn’t matter, or at least that’s how you wanted it perceived. Avoiding eye contact with the most dangerous man the whole country had ever come to know, meant you missed the way his stare moved to your clothes, particularly your blazer, recognising it was a man’s, and he could confidently guess exactly who it belonged to. Any friendliness on his face disappeared, he wanted to play games and now he just wanted to torture you a little, punish you for you actions. Patience, he tells himself, that would come later.
The file in your hands slaps the table as you throw it down, taking a seat opposite your boyfriend, a man you now convinced yourself you wanted behind bars. 
What do they say about a woman scorned? Namjoon thinks to himself, admiring the fire he could see burning underneath your skin, and though he knew he would feel the burn, he would welcome it. It was no secret that he had a fantasy about you interrogating him, he introduced the role play to the bedroom soon after your return to them but it lacked the flames of heat he could feel today. 
“Allow me to formally introduce myself,” you reply. “My name is detective Y/n L/n, I’ve been undercover at your… establishment for the past year and a half.”
“Is that right?” he barely suppressed his amusement but it didn’t phase you. Your professional head was on, this was just another criminal you had to put away, that was it. 
You open the file, sliding out photos of him that you had sent in as intel in your early days undercover as well as surveillance photos that Suho had taken since you were MIA. 
“Do you know who this man is Mr Kim,” you say, sliding the first of the photos to him.
“Can’t say I do detective,” he shrugs nonchalantly, not even glancing away from you. 
“Do you want to try looking at his face first before you answer,” you insisted unimpressed. 
He smiles, still staring at you. 
“I don’t recognise him,” he repeats himself slowly. 
“So this isn’t you in the photo?” You ask.
“I don’t know,” his grin only grows.
“This man, Jackson Wang, is dead, and the last person who saw him alive seems to have been you Mr Kim, at least based on the time stamp on this photo and the time of death from the post mortem.”
“Is that right,” he says again, sounding like a broken record. His eyes swim with admiration for you, you can see it though you can’t understand it at all with the current scene. Why wasn’t he fuming, why wasn’t he demanding an answer or explanation?
“Okay let's cut the crap since I know you’re far too clever for that Mr Kim,” you scoff with a roll of your eyes. “I have gathered evidence of your crimes from the last 18 months, and I will stand in court as a witness against you.”
“Are you allowed to do that little love?” he asks, the name has a pang of panic hit you, but you tell yourself you can explain it away to brass.
“The charges you're facing so far are murder, battery, and grand larceny to name a few,” you state ignoring him, flicking through the photos, throwing each one in front of him. “There are many more to follow.”
“I didn’t know partners could testify against each other,” he mused, smirk still strong on his face.
“I’m not your partner,” you object. “I was undercover.”
“No,” he contends, shaking his head like this was just a game to him. “You can’t fake a love like ours, heaven.”
You almost snort as if his point was ridiculous.
“I don’t think I could ever love someone like you Mr Kim,” your stare was ice cold, that finally wipes the smile off his face. 
“You’re angry,” he states as if it was new information for you. “I get that little love, but this is a bit too much, don’t you think?”
“I think justice needs to be served, don't you?” you sneered. “People got hurt, some people died, someone needs to pay.”
“You and I both know they deserved it,” he declares as if there wasn’t a camera recording his confession. “You’re just angry because I stepped on a bug.”
Utter rage brewed like a storm in your chest, and you wanted the downpour to drown him. 
“You sound like you’re ready to sign the confession Mr Kim,” you don’t break your stare. “That’s great, saves us a lot of time, thank you.”
You close the file, pushing the chair back to stand. 
“I’m not done with you,” he growled.
“But I’m done with you.” 
“Y/n sit,” he commands calmly, composing himself. “Throwing a fit isn’t going to fix things.”
“Throwing a fit?” The audacity of this man, you stand there in shock. 
“Let’s talk it through,” he says to you as if you were being hysterical. 
“Fuck you,” you spit. 
“Talk to me Y/n,” he scolded you like you were a child. “Without this bullshit.”
“Fine! You wanna talk about it Namjoon,” you snapped, taking the seat again, throwing the file haphazardly on the desk. “Let’s talk about it.”
The glare you present him with doesn’t make him flinch, it doesn’t phase him. You hope Suho had enough sense to turn the cameras off by now, this would go nowhere. 
“You manipulated me, you lied to me, you made me play the fool.”
He didn’t react, not a single muscle on his face moved and it fanned whatever flame explode inside of you like a bomb. This was his true colours underneath the mask of love and adoration he created for you.
“You don’t have to pretend anymore Namjoon I can see right through you,” you state. “And you are never touching me again.”
That made him look at you, really look at you, something shifted in his gaze, a slight smirk as if he was mocking you.
You could cry kick and scream about the injustice he put you through in the name of this fucked up love and he wouldn’t flinch. He would sit there and watch and then the fucker would have the audacity to laugh afterwards. He must’ve laughed at how stupid you were in trusting him when he lied.
“At least if you go to prison, I’ll finally be free,” you whisper like it’s a life line.
He’s still unmoved, sitting there as if you were invisible and it irked the fuck out of you. He was the one who wanted to talk, why the fuck was he silent now? 
You wanted him to hurt you wanted him to feel an ounce of what you did in the light of his betrayal. He tore your heart out and you weren’t going to forgive him.
“I must’ve looked so pathetic,” you say in a self deprecating tone, looking at the ceiling as if someone could answer you. “Suho was right.”
That comment makes his blood boil hard enough to show on his face. There it was, the reaction you were waiting for and you took the bait without thinking about what you were trying to catch or what you were trapped with.
“I should’ve trusted him, he’s always had my back and my best interest at heart.”
His jaw clenches, a fist squeezing nothing but air although he probably wished it was the captain's neck.
“Kai and Suho are all I have left,” you goad him, unsure of what exactly it was that you wanted to prove. “And finally I’m back where I belong.”
“If you don’t want a bullet in each of their heads, you need to stop talking love,” he grunts through gritted teeth.
Something inside of you felt vindicated and you realise then what you wanted from him, proof he fucking cared, that you weren’t some pawn or prize in this game of crime. You wanted him to soothe the very cuts he caused, or rip your heart out hard enough that you could bleed him out of your system forever.
“Oh please Namjoon, just admit why you kept me around for so long,” you scoff. “I can only imagine how it felt to have the lead detective on your case in the palm of your hands, like a trophy, a big fuck you to the justice system.”
You laugh sounding a little maniacal.
“You had me, and I fell for all of it.”
“You’re forgetting I didn’t know your true origins at first little love,” his low voice is a warning, he looks at you like he needed to remind you who you belonged to.
“And you’re forgetting I know you,” you bite back. “Any hint of betrayal and you pull the trigger first and ask questions later.”
He stares at you, grimacing.
“And yet here I am, alive.”
“Because I love you,” he says it so casually it throws you off, like it was a fundamental part of his being, like breathing.
“Because you saw an opportunity,” you rationalise.
“Because I could never lose you,” he confesses. “You could rip out my heart, little love and I would still want you, why else would I be here?”
You frown, what did he mean? He was here because you paid an eye for an eye, you betrayed him.
“What’s done is done,” you say as if you were unconcerned. “I will testify against you.”
He leans closer across the table, words for your ears only.
“Do you think you’ll be able to handle seeing Jungkook in prison, love?” Namjoon whispers. “Knowing you put him there? It would kill you.”
The pain his words brought forth only proved them to be true. You did have a soft spot for the youngest, always had. You break eye contact first, looking down at the file and turning back and forth a page as if in contemplation but really to cool your nerves.
Were you really doing this? Sending Yoongi, Jin, Hoseok, Jimin, Tae and Kookie to jail because of an angry outburst? Now your emotions had time to settle after the bomb that exploded when you saw Suho; you weren’t so sure.
“I never thought you could betray us like this,” he says solemnly, continuing to manipulate your guilt, but he forgot about your fire. He could almost see the coals ignite in your eyes, a misstep on his part, one he realised when a snarl forms on your lips.
“You. Lied.” You state ferociously. “I asked you if you hurt him and you lied to me.”
“So you decided to have us all arrested,” he continues, “for a man you stated you didn’t care about like that.”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” you seethe, unable to sit with him any longer, pacing the room before you raised a finger to his face. “You played me like a fool Namjoon, and I refuse to play the part anymore.”
“I wanted him dead, little love,” he states in a low voice through gritted teeth. “Do you understand what a mercy-”
“I asked you not to hurt him!”
“Then you underestimated our wrath!” he retorted. “I couldn’t let him go in one piece, and you didn’t need to know.”
“No. You underestimated MY wrath Kim Namjoon!” You burst, slamming the desk with your hand, the sting burning, your face heating more and more with rage as it concealed your heartache. “I am not some docile doll for you to play with, and manipulate and LIE TO! You took my love for granted when it was a damn fucking privilege.”
Your chest heaves with each breath, he stayed composed while you looked like a wild animal finally let out of her cage.
“You think this obsession is love,” your voice broke at the last word, the floods of heartbreak dampening the fires. “And I did too, but it’s fucked up everything.”
His silence was eating you alive, his face giving nothing of his heart away while yours laid bare out between you.
“You know what I’m done,” you breathe, “have fun rotting in jail Namjoon.”
Tears drop out of the corner of your eyes as you walk away, his piercing gaze doing nothing to deter you. He might’ve had power over you once but that was before he betrayed you. You reach for the door handle, tugging, ready to leave him behind until his trial, but the door doesn’t budge. You still, mind blank for a second before panic overwhelms you. You try again with all your might, pulling as hard as you can over and over before releasing your grip with a harsh breath. You take a gulp, calming yourself, he planned this.
You’re not surprised when you hear the sound of the handcuffs undo or the chains hit the floor. Fucking bastard. An alarm started blaring in the building, loud and overwhelming, but it came too late. Red lights flash, the room glowing as if warning you about the oncoming danger.
“Are we done with your outburst little love,” he says coldly, like your grievances were nothing more than a tantrum.
You turn to face him slowly, more tears dropping without a sound, shaking your head at the way his words cut you down to nothing.
When he stands from the seat your heart gallops with fear and panic. Although it’s helpless you turn back to the door, trying with all your might to open it and escape him. The fire alarm blaring does nothing to ease you, you hang onto the door as you feel him approach, tears falling out of your eyes without control.
Fuck, you were stuck here with the man you sent to jail, you were left to his mercy. His presence looms over you, you can feel him a hair's width behind you, not touching you, not really, but he’s so close it’s overwhelming.
It’s when you feel his breath you freeze, your body shutting down with dread. He presses his cheek to your hair, inhaling you softly. The action makes you jolt away, turning to the side but he grabs your wrist tightly. You don’t look at him, you stare into the two way mirror, your cheeks pathetically wet. You were supposed to hold the power in this room, but you could feel it dwindle away to nothing but smoke.
You’re slammed against the door hard, a whimper escaping your lips as your eyes scrunched in pain. You miss the flash of guilt in his eyes, realising he pushed you too hard. An apology on his lips but the glare when your eyes open stops him. He’s seen anger in your eyes before, hate even, for he knew love didn’t come without it. But fear? Never of him, not even in the days when you were undercover and your life was one unveiled secret away from ending. 
“Get away from me,” you seethe, meaning every word, even when you saw the hurt in his eyes. 
Regret, Kim Namjoon never knew the feeling before, but he knew he never wanted you to look at him the way you were. He needed to keep his calm, one wrong push and you would tear him out of your own heart.
Your eyes fly all over the room, trying to piece together a way to gain some distance. Suho… maybe he was still behind the glass. You tug your wrist as hard as you can, taking steps away from him but his hold is relentless. The blare of the alarm stops ringing but the flashing red lights remain, staining the walls like blood pumping.
“Little lo-“ he starts to say with a sigh, he was being patient but there was only so much time left.
“Suho?” You call desperately trying to look through the glass. You know you’ve made a mistake before you even said his name but fear drives people to do stupid things without thinking.
The most notorious criminal in all of Seoul pulls you back against his chest hard. An arm wraps around your waist, the unforgiving grip on your wrist turning lethal. He rests his chin on your shoulder, staring at you through the mirror. The hairs on your skin stood on end at the frightening change in his eyes, danger rolled off of him and you had no choice but to take every wave.
“Do you think he’s there, love?” The corner of his lip lifts in a smirk that makes you think of a snake, the saccharine tone of his voice hypnotising. “Do you think he’s watching us?”
The palm on your hip moves down to your thigh, he squeezes the flesh. You could feel your heart jumping in your throat.
“Should we give him something to watch?” He murmurs seductively, turning his head to bring his lips so close to your neck. The bruising clutch on your wrist is gone only to find its way to your hair, yanking it back to give himself better access.
Your eyes in the mirror are begging but the inner turmoil from his touch is making you question what exactly you’re asking for. Reason tells you it’s for Suho to save you, to grant you escape, but the way you feel a familiar heat swim to your core has you doubting yourself.
“If he was in there,” he whispers, his lips now on your ear, “don’t you think he’d come in here and try to take you from me, love?”
He chuckles to himself, a joke only he can understand.
“Fuck I’d love to see him try.”
His groan has you aching, your body relapsing to what it knows, anticipating the pleasure and pain only they could provide. 
​​“I’m not mad at you for having us arrested, heaven,” he whispers in your ear, gaze softening for a second in the mirror lulling you into a sense of security you couldn’t tell if it was a trap. “In fact I’m a little in awe, a little proud.”
The smirk he gives you seems genuine.
“We deserved it I know,” reassurance fills his voice, he wants you to hear his sincerity. “What I’m mad about, little love…”
The softness is gone, eyes turn piercing, the proverbial snake about to strike.
“Is the fact you let another man touch what’s mine.”
The guttural rumble of his possessive claim sent waves of need down to your cunt, you could feel it pulsing. 
“I’m mine,” you return meekly, trying to find your resolve, but it sounded like a whine.
“Make no mistake Y/n, you’re always going to be mine.”
You didn’t have it in you to argue, not when he sent your eyes rolling back and a shiver down your spine. Fuck he hadn’t even touched you yet, maybe it was true, maybe a part of you would always belong to them, but that didn’t mean all if you did.
“Look at me,” he commands, his breath hitting your neck.
Your blown out eyes meet him in the mirror, that predatory but protective gaze piercing through you. He hums in approval the deep vibration fucking with your senses, making you hazy. 
You both hold eye contact even when you can see the fingers on your thigh stroke soothing circles up your skin. Your lips part with a harsh breath when they rub your mound through the fabric of your panties, the touch light and testing and not nearly enough. 
“You’re fucking soaking wet baby,” he calls you out with a grin.
You grab his wrist when his fingers cup your heat, his thumb soothing circles on your clit. You press against him, the warmth of his chest enveloping your back. You both fit so well together, you were forgetting why exactly you were so angry at him, but simmers of it still remained even through his touch. 
“You know,” he says, opening your leg with his knee to give him more access, “a lot of couples fuck through their problems, should we try?”
He hides his grin, burying his head in you but you can feel it against your skin, the arrogant asshole. 
“You can go and fuck yourself,” you sassed back, lying to yourself that you could be fine if he stopped now, that it wouldn’t leave you a needy mess. 
“But I’d rather fuck you,” he chuckles, breathing you in, savouring the moment while his fingers slide the fabric aside. 
You choke back a moan at the contact of his skin right where you wanted him, the way he spread your wetness until every inch of you was covered in it. 
“You can pretend to regret our relationship all you want, but this,” he emphasises his point by slapping your cunt hard, making you gasp, “still wants me.”
“It wants to get fucked,” you spitefully remark through gritted teeth, “doesn’t have to be you.”
That makes him pause, and you have to bite back the words of displeasure. 
“You’ll pay for that next time love,” he murmurs dangerously. 
“There won’t be a next time,” you try to ridicule him through a laugh but his fingers circle your entrance. 
“You’re lying,” he hums, “next time, I think we should tie you down, make you watch other women touch us in ways only you’re allowed to.”
You bury the fury that ruptures at the image, clenching your jaw to keep from swearing at him and proving the point he was trying to make.
“Maybe then you’d have a semblance of understanding of what you did- the torture you put us through.”
“I wouldn’t care,” you breathe, squirming against his fingers, he needed to shut up and move.
“Liar,” he chuckles knowingly, seeing right through you. Before you, there were many females in his organisation, until his little love demanded he get rid of them all. The memory stretches his grin wider. 
“Why the fuck was it me?” You whisper, your eyes starting to water at the vulnerability of your tone, remembering the same moment he was. “When I went undercover there were so many beautiful women-“
“They’re not you, little love, don’t for a second compare yourself to them,” he kisses your temple softly in reassurance. His face is in your hair, his hand on your throat as you preen to his touch. “You were sweet and addicting with a fire you were trying so desperately to contain.”
He thrusts two fingers in gently, watching your face contort in want in the mirror, smiling at the way your eyes rolled back. You whimper when he squeezes his grip on your neck.
“To think that passion we saw in your eyes was hatred at first,” he smiles as if amused, watching every little reaction you gave him, every proof of love.
“I did,” you confess, pressing your ass against his hard length and making him groan, “I hated you.”
“You were sent to destroy us, love, but instead you reached into our souls and thought there was something worth saving,” he chuckled, nuzzling into you softly as if he wasn’t knuckle deep inside of you, feeling every part he knew so well. “And save us you did, it was so dark before you our little light, how could we ever let you leave?”
“You’re fucking with my head,” you whimper, head falling back to his chest, it rumbles when he laughs.
“Hmmm? I’m definitely fucking your brains out today Y/n,” he promises with a chuckle, kissing your temple again, but emphasising his point when he scissors his fingers reading you for his cock. “If that’s what you mean.”
This was your fault, you knew what you were getting into when you fell for them. You especially knew Namjoon was the worst of them all. You let his soft side brush away his true nature, and while you never forgot his ruthless persona, you put it to the back of your mind. You foolishly thought you had tamed his cunning cold cruel- 
“Oh fuck,” whatever train of thought you had died, the palm of his hand rubbing your clit, stimulating your already aching cunt to the edge. Your parted lips open wider to release a silent scream, his fingers stroking so deep.
You were so close, you could taste it, unable to control the delirious sounds escaping you. So when he stops and slips his fingers away from you, you have to stop yourself screaming in protest. 
“Up against the mirror Y/n,” he commands gruffly, but you don’t move, you were so fucking close. Fuck him, fucking asshole, you were so fucking close. 
He picks you up with ease, pushing you against the wall so your breath fogs the surface. You hear the zip pull down, your forehead falls forward, your core pulsing in anticipation. He grabs your leg, opening you for him, the head of his cock sliding across your folds until you're whining.
“Stop squirming love,” he warns, but you don’t listen, of course you don’t, so he makes you listen. 
The sound you release when he slaps your clit with his hard dick over and over has him questioning his restraint, fuck he wants to just pound into you but you needed to be taught a fucking lesson. 
“Joonie sensitive,” you whine, but he’s relentless, making you cry out over and over. Fuck you could actually maybe cum like this. 
His self control wavers, his jaw clenched with such a force he thinks it’ll shatter. He couldn’t take it anymore, the swell of his head finds your entrance. Inch by inch, he relishes the feeling of your walls hugging him so fucking tight, the pulse of them pulling him in. He leans over you, trying to regain composure but you feel so good he doesn’t want to move, he wants to stay like this forever, inside of you where he belongs. 
You try to push back into him, but he grabs your waist with one hand to keep you still, grinding his hips against you and he knows it’s not enough. 
“Look at you arching your back little love,” he smirks, “Your body knows where you belong, it’s a shame you tried to take it away from me.”
Your hands ball into fists on the mirror, you can’t even look at yourself right now, you can’t stop writhing on the surface, trying so hard to get him to move. You squeeze him hard, making his head fall against you with a grunt. 
“Behave little love,” he warns, “or I’ll show your colleagues just how well you can take me.”
“Make me,” you dare him even though it comes out as a mumble. 
You were dizzy and disorientated and all you wanted was for him to fucking move. He pushes you against the wall hard, every inch of him covering you so you couldn’t budge. You whine, the cold of the hard surface making you seek his warm body, you slot against him like a damn puzzle piece. He was hell bent on torturing you today, as if you hadn’t suffered enough. 
“Joonie move,” you almost sound like a brat, trying to order him around. 
“I’ll move when I’m ready,” he growls animalistically, barely holding himself back, but he needed to savour this.
You do everything you can to break his control, writhing against him like a bitch in heat. He swallows hard when you clench again. He spanks your ass hard in return, the air gets thicker, you find it harder to breathe. You keep still, the sting of your ass satisfying your craving for a moment, but not for long. 
He picks up your skirt, watching himself inside you, watching the beautiful mess you were making. So wet, so perfect, how did you ever think for a second he would ever let this go? The sight is too much, he releases a restrained groan, done with holding himself back. 
His hand grips your cheeks, turning your mouth to his, forcing his tongue down your throat as he finally pulls out only to push back in impossibly deeper. You took every punishing thrust, his presence surrounding you everywhere, even in front of you where his reflection painted the surface. He smothered you with his existence, the heat of him scolding, but you liked it, you craved it. 
“Do you think your ‘friend’ understands who you fucking belong to now detective L/n?” He chuckles deeply watching your fucked out face in the mirror.
He uses his grip under your knee to turn you towards the camera in the corner of the room.
“Think they can all see little love?” He pants. “How well you fucking take it? How good you are for me?”
You shake your head in protest but it feels too good. Your head falls back on him without the mirror to lean against. His fingers find your clit, his sole purpose to make you lose yourself to him. 
“Fuck look at you shaking baby,” he groans, feeling you pulse around him, drawing closer to the edge. “Your poor pussy just needs to come huh?”
You can hear the smirk in his tone, fucking self satisfied prick. 
“Not as badly as you need it,” you taunt back, feeling your defiance flare despite how your body was begging you to behave.. 
“Fuck you might be right,” he groans, going harder, faster. “I’m always going to need it.”
His confession takes you over, the words pushing you so hard you come apart violently, thrashing against him as you unravel, but he holds you tight. He doesn’t let you fall. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t think, all you could feel was him and the burst of pleasure that carried on wave after wave, and you never wanted it to stop.
“This is mine,” he grunts as he comes undone inside of you, fucking his cum deeper until it got through to your soul. 
He was a part of you, and you could try to deny it now with his mistakes on the table, but he was so embedded in the fabric of you he couldn’t see where he began and where you ended. His entire existence was for you, it was only fair your cunt, body and soul belonged to him. Maybe the others too, as an afterthought, but you were his first.
He feels the mess slide out of you as he leaves your warmth, turning you softly so you could lean against him as you catch your breath. He holds you tight, arn arm around your middle like the steel of a bar. He has every intention of letting you recover but the way you look up at him with those glossy eyes confirms the fact he will never be satiated, he will always want more of you even if there was nothing left to give. 
“Our little love,” he breathes in your face, stealing a hard kiss, “our little downfall.”
His mouth held you prisoner again and again, humming pleasantly as you let him devour you in so many ways. His kiss was bruising, hungry, overindulging.
Your eyes search his as he parts reluctantly, your mind still hazy, the bliss of sex still circulating your body.
“Why did you lie to me?” You whisper breathlessly against his lips as you come down, and he can hear the vulnerability in your tone, it makes a guilt spread across his chest that feels almost alien. The way you could make him ache like no one else, he should cast you aside for introducing a weakness in him but he wouldn’t even dream of it.
“I didn’t want to lose you,” he confesses sincerely. “I didn’t want you to hate me.”
“I asked you not to hurt him,” your eyes tear up again, and he curses himself and the existence of Kim Suho.
“I know.”
“But you did it anyway,” you continue, “and then you had the gall to lie to my face.”
You wipe away the tears that fall harshly, your mind clearing. You push him away and fix yourself up, knowing from the glances in the mirror you were a mess.
“You always own up to your actions, right or wrong, you never hide them,” you laugh and you think you must sound psychotic. “The Kim Namjoon… I remember the days you would drop dead bodies in front of me without remorse, without ever feeling the need to explain yourself.”
“I was testing you then,” he grunts, remembering those days well. “I needed to know you had the stomach to be with us.”
“I hated you so much,” you confess, swallowing down a sob. “And for the first time since I fell in love with you Joonie, I can feel that hate grow again.”
His jaw clenches, his fist too. He could feel a threat on the tip of his lips, one where the Captain's head would end up on a plate in front of you for dinner but he holds himself back.
“You don’t mean that,” he says between gritted teeth.
“I had you fucking arrested Namjoon,” you argue back fiercely. “Don't tell me what I mean or don’t mean.”
“You also fucked me after the fact,” he states and the harsh words slap you hard. You did. You let him defile you here only moments ago.
“Old habits die hard.”
“Not with me love,” he dismisses the thought. “Not as long as I’m alive.”
“We’ll see,” you challenge, feeling that earlier conviction rise. 
“Understand something Y/n,” he says seriously, his face solemn and hard in a way you had witnessed rarely. This was Kim Namjoon with something to lose. “You can run, you can fight, you can hate me if you need to, but there isn’t a life worth living for us without you in it.”
He takes his seat back in the interrogation chair, putting his handcuffs back on with ease, all while keeping his eye contact with you. 
“You want me here, you want to punish me,” he continues, “fine, this where I’ll stay until you’re appeased, until you forgive me.”
“I won’t,” you deny, shaking your head. 
“You will.”
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leaderwonim · 7 months ago
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𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐘 — four: not an ounce of comfort
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. lee heeseung x fem!reader, park sunghoon x fem!reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲. Y/N always knew that her high school was dominated by wealth and privilege. Upon having a one night stand with popular athlete Lee Heeseung, she uncovers that Heeseung's friend group controls not only social dynamics but also school policies and local affairs, revealing a hidden world of power and manipulation behind their so called perfectly polished exteriors
masterlist | previous | next
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You ended up rushing over to the football field, a blue painted 85 on the side of your cheek.
85 was Heeseung’s number, Giselle had told you because she saw his jersey a couple times while passing the football field.
“Are you wearing a push-up bra?” Giselle asks as she examines your chest area with a quirked brow. “Trying to impress the Mr, aren’t you?”
You roll your eyes, shoving her back jokingly. “Gigi!”
Yujin shows up not a minute later, her honors chemistry textbook in her hand. “Are you wearing a push-up bra, Y/N?”
“Is it so obvious that everybody knows?!” You exclaim, huffing as you crossed your arms.
“Girl, it’s fine.” Giselle pats your back. “Heeseung will definitely like it.”
The coach blows his whistle and the game starts to become upbeat again, the stadium filled with students cheering.
You could see Hanni and Danielle do warm up stretches on the track, and you can’t help but feel a bit of envy towards the two.
They practically had a perfect life.
“Go go go!” You heard the crowd roar, watching as Heeseung runs through his opponents in a flash. “TOUCHDOWN!”
Giselle shrieks, grabbing both you and Yujin—who crinkled her eyes in disgust—in a tight hug.
“Well what are you waiting for?” Giselle screams over the cheering crowd. “Go with him for your project girl!”
You run down the stadium stairs, bumping into Seojun with a pck!
“You’re Heeseung’s partner,” he smirks. “Heeseung’s over there celebrating with the team. I’ll take you to them.”
Although Seojun intimidated you to the max, you knew you were going to do yourself worst if you said no to his offer.
“Heeseung.” Seojun taps on the boy’s shoulder, and when he turns around, you’re almost stunned by his beauty.
Who knew Lee Heeseung in his football jersey would be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.
“Seungie!” Before you could say your greetings, Hanni runs over in her cheer uniform and pompoms, jumping on Heeseung and wrapping her legs around his waist.
He wraps his arm around her frame within seconds, securing her. He gives you an awkward smile, one which you return back.
“I’m so proud of you!” She says after setting herself on the ground again. “You just needed harsh motivation Heeseung!”
He nods, then looks back to you. “You ready to go?”
“Yeah.”
Yeah. Yeah?! Heeseung just asked you a question and all you can say is yeah?
You could already feel his friend group burning holes into your head.
“My friends are coming too if you don’t mind. You know Hanni and Seojun. Danielle and Sunghoon are coming too.”
You grimace slightly, but try not to show it in front of Heeseung.
You were going to be surrounded with them.
When you arrive at his house, your jaw practically drops to the ground. It’s gigantic, almost seems endless with a giant front pool that looked like an Olympic swimming pool.
“Why the long face?” Hanni asks from behind you. “Never seen such a place so nice? Are you one of the scholarship kids?”
You gulp, not wanting to turn around to face her.
“Alright Han, drop it.”
Hanni rolls her eyes at Heeseung defending you. “What? It’s just a joke Heeseung, loosen up.”
All of them drop their bags near the maid, not bothering to look behind them as they settled into Heeseung’s kitchen.
“Do you need help?” You ask the maid. Curse you for being an empath, but you could sense her tiredness.
“It’s alright dear, it’s my job.” She gives you a small smile. “Thank you though. You really aren’t like the others.”
You smile sadly at that, hanging your backpack on one of Heeseung’s hangers instead of letting the maid do it like the rest of them.
“Heeseung! What did your chef make for us today?” Sunghoon leans back against the kitchen island. “Tell me you got oysters, I’ve been craving them.”
Heeseung opens up his fridge, sliding a bowl of raw oysters towards the boy. “Have at it.”
He turns around to you, his eyes holding a warm welcome. “Do you want anything Y/N? Sea moss? Truffle pizza? Wagyu with rice?”
You shake your head. “Water would be nice.”
Hanni can’t help but giggle at your words, leaning against Sunghoon.
You’re sure she’s making fun of you in her head. You’re just sure of it.
“Alright let’s talk about our project.” Heeseung takes a seat next to you. “I was thinking we talk about skin layers, including skin diseases that affect people everyday.”
You nod, listening attentively to his words. “I think that’s a great idea Heeseung.”
Within minutes, you could feel yourself needing to pee, thanks to Heeseung’s fancy water his parents had imported from Erehwon in Los Angeles.
“I’m gonna use the restroom if you don’t mind,” you say to him.
“That’s fine, it’s down the hall. Make a turn to the right when you reach it.”
You quickly walk over to the bathroom, giving a maid a small smile as you passed by her in the hall.
Meanwhile, Hanni pokes at the wagyu on her plate, clearly upset with something.
“What’s wrong pretty?” Sunghoon asks. “I thought you were really happy about the win.”
“I am,” she huffs. “It’s about Heeseung.”
“What did I do?” Heeseung asks, taken aback.
“What didn’t you do?” Seojun laughs loudly at his own joke. “What? It was funny!”
“I mean you’re defending that Y/N girl so hard! You didn’t even laugh at any of my jokes.” Hanni grumbles. “Like what the fuck is your problem? This whole new personality is seriously unlikable.”
The room grows silent, and Heeseung can’t help but let out a loud sigh.
“Look—I’m sorry Hanni, okay? I just don’t want to make her uncomfortable. This project is a huge part of my grade and I don’t want to work with someone that hates me.”
“Whatever.”
You swore the tension in the room could be cut with a knife when you entered, but you didn’t want to mention it.
“Now where were we?” Heeseung says, breaking the silence with a smile towards you.
Oh it was going to be a long night.
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AUTHOR’s NOTE: think we can all agree mitski is heeseung’s favorite artist 😭
TAGLIST (closed) @cupidhoons @lilyuwon @soobeboobe @immelissaaa @coqhee @shuichi-sama @ssukiyakii @deobitifull @sunpov @anittamaxwynnn @minjaexvz @katarinamae @capri-cuntz @jooniesbears-blog @sakanelli-afc @lvlyjisung @cherlv @mnxnii @llvrhee @b0bbl3s @lwavander @glxzillx @txtlyn @heartheejake @realrintaro @wonyoungvirus @hyuckies18 @iriroha @jakeyloveer @thinkinboutbin @yoonjise @rikizm @cinnamon-won @samouryed @moon4moony @jakesfurry @yunjinhuhjennifer @viagumi @rikisly @rikisnotforsale @heart4hees @jjklvr9 @loviwon @rik1zzluv @skzenhalove @jaehoonii @j5yy @tnazips @taeyoonga @ezekiel-bublz @jakeyverse @wave2beom @maepjetl @urfavouriteanon
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minniesmutt · 7 months ago
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☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮
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☾ ━━━ PAIRING: LEE KNOW X READER ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: NON IDOL! AU, FEM!READER, CEO!READER, SECRETARY!LEE KNOW, OFFICE SEX, FOOD MENTIONS, ALCOHOL (WINE), FIRST-TIME RELATIONSHIP SEX, PET NAMES (KITTEN, KITTY), DIRTY TALK, DOM! LEE KNOW, SUB! READER, STRONG BOY LINO DOES CARRY READER, DADDY KINK, ORAL (F. REC), GROPING, SPIT, FINGERING, BEGGING, TEASING, PROTECTED SEX, PRAISE, FINGER SUCKING, ALLUDES TO MORE ROUNDS, ALLUDES TO AFTERCARE ☾ ━━━ WC: 2.6K ☾ ━━━ repost from old blog ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog
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     Minho wasn’t unaware that the women in his office stared at him like a piece of meat. He passed by them every day when he walked in and heard their whispers. They truly sucked at whispering. And even for such a large company, office gossip got around very quickly. 
     He always ignored them, he didn’t care what they thought about him. He just walked to his desk with two coffees, sat, and got to work. Checking over his boss’s schedules for the day and any notes left on his desk after he left last night. Ears perked up when he heard everyone else greeting their CEO when she walked in. He looked up from his computer as Y/n greeted her employees.
     “Morning Ms. L/n,” He greeted as he stood with her cup of coffee
     “Good morning Mr. Lee,” Y/n smiled and thanked him for the coffee, “Anything important on my schedule today?” 
     Minho grabbed his tablet and coffee, following her into her office, “Just a board meeting after lunch ma’am,” Minho said as he closed her office door behind him.
     “Alright,” Y/n sighed, setting her coffee and bag down on her desk, “Thank you Minho.” Y/n smiled
     Minho nodded and headed back to his desk. Busing himself answering emails and phone calls. It was the weekend so the office wasn’t super busy. Everyone mainly taking it easy till clock out time. Minho was happy the time was flying by today. 
     Around lunch, he heard his phone ping. He turned the screen on a saw a message
Y/n: free tonight?
     Minho smiled as he leaned back in his chair 
Minho: depends. Why are you asking? Y/n: just seeing if you want to come over to mine after we're off for dinner Minho: I’m free Y/n: see you after work then.  Minho: technically, I see you in a few minutes to go over your meeting material  Y/n: 🙄
     It was odd. Talking to his boss, and hiding it from the office. Though it was very easy for them to hide it. They were in their own little world most of the time. But he had some concerns at first. He knew HR would be on his ass if they found out. 
     If it wasn’t for Jisung and Felix setting them up on a blind date, he’d just be her secretary. And if he hadn’t convinced her that it was fine and that they were outside of work. Now almost a few months later they were doing alright. 
     “Hey, Minho!” One of the ladies in the office called. He looked up at her as he set his phone down. Truly, he didn’t know her name. 
     “Yeah?” he asked 
     “If you’re not busy tonight, would you want to grab some drinks with me?” She was so hopeful 
     “I already have plans for tonight,” Minho told her
     “Oh, that’s okay. Maybe another time?”
     “No thanks,” Minho stood up and grabbed his tablet and phone before standing up. 
     He didn’t say another word and headed to Y/n’s office. Knocking on the door before walking in.
      Y/n looked up from her computer as he shut the door, offering a smile as he took a seat with a sigh. 
     “You alright?” Y/n asked him
     “Fine,” Minho answered 
     Y/n got up and leaned against her desk in front of him, “Not asking as your boss.”
     “We’re at work,” he reminded her
     “In my office,” Y/n added
     “Just office stuff,” he told her, grabbing her hand and running his thumb over her knuckles, “Got asked out is all.”
     “Someone finally made a move out there?”
     “So you know about the office gossip.”
     “I like knowing things,” Y/n shrugged, “Back to work. We can talk about it more later.”
     Minho rolled his eyes and went over the details for her meeting then walked down to the room with her. Sitting and taking notes. Just doing his job while the meeting ran on. Barely recognizing the meeting had ended until the sound of chairs brought his attention back.
      He locked his tablet and let out a small sigh. Quietly standing from his chair.
     “Email me the meeting notes, would you Minho?” Y/n asked as she picked up her things. 
     “Yes. I’ll send them over as soon as I can,” Minho assured her as they made their way out of the meeting room to their respective desks.
     Working for the next few hours on little things. No company deadlines to meet this month which made everything easier. 
      Minho was about to wrap up for the day when his phone vibrated on the desk
Y/n: Rain check tonight? Minho: something come up? Y/n: Issue with one of the branch managers 🙄 HR wants me to hope on a Zoom meeting to talk about it Minho: that bad the CEO needs to hop on the call? Y/n: We’re still a pretty small company Min. It’s happened before  Minho: How about I cook tonight? Just come over once your meeting is over. Y/n: you cooked last time 😞 Minho: and you loved it so I'll cook again. it’s no big deal.  Y/n: are you sure? Minho: I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t Y/n: Okay. thank you min Minho: no problem. I’ll see you after your meeting 
     Minho packed up his stuff and checked on Y/n before leaving for the day. Making his way to the store to pick up a few ingredients before heading home. 
     Taking care of the groceries before hopping in the shower to wash the day off. Putting on a plain t-shirt and some sweats then walking into the kitchen. Putting on a playlist while he cooked. Getting a bit of a head start before Y/n knocked on his door. 
     Minho cleaned off his hands before answering the door. Finding Y/n behind the door, in more house clothes than her business suit she had on at work. 
     “How’d your meeting go?” He asked as she stepped inside.
     “Pain in my ass,” Y/n sighed 
     “That bad?” Minho asked as he closed the door
     “Lot of denying of what he was doing over at the branch and saying he’ll sue,” Y/n sighed as she slipped her shoes off
      “I’m sorry,” Minho sympathized and wrapped her up in his arms. 
     “Just my job,” Y/n sighed, wrapping her arms around him
     “Want some wine while I finish cooking?” he asked
     “Yes please.” 
     Minho led her into the kitchen and poured them both a glass of wine before he went back to cooking. Steering the conversation away from work for the rest of the night ending up on the couch together watching a movie. His arm wrapped around her as she leaned into him. 
     “Thank you for cooking again tonight,” Y/n told him. 
     “Any time,” Minho told her
     Y/n looked up at him and smiled. Minho smiled back and laid his forehead on hers. “Wanna stay the night?” he asked 
     “Want me to stay the night?”
     “Not admitting that.”
     “I’d love to stay the night,” Y/n laughed
     Minho smiled and pulled her closer to him. Y/n smiled and cupped his face in her hands.
     “Can I kiss you?” Minho asked after a moment of silence between them 
     “Thought I told you you didn’t need to ask,” Y/n said
     Minho leaned in, capturing her lips between his. Their lips moved in sync as his hand dropped from her shoulder to her waist. Pulling her just slightly closer to him. 
     Y/n swung her leg over his lap and pulled herself on top of him and he grabbed her hips and pulled her closer to him. 
     Y/n pressed her lips back onto his as he kept a grip on her hips. Hands slipping down to her ass and grinding her against him. Y/n moaned into his mouth as her hands slipped into his hair, lightly tugging on the roots. 
     Minho ran his tongue over her bottom lip before pushing his tongue into her mouth. Y/n pushed her tongue against his, the two muscles dancing together between them before Y/n pulled away to catch her breath.
     Minho attached his lips to her neck, moving one hand from her ass to hold the back of her head. Tilting her head back a bit, allowing himself more room to work with. 
     “All mine,” Minho mumbled against her skin on instinct
     Y/n felt her body heat up as the words passed through her ears. There’d only been a few other times she and Minho had slept together but she’d never heard any possessiveness out of him— even though he warned her he was the possessive type. But the two little words did something to her. 
     “‘m yours,” Y/n moaned. 
     Y/n watched him pull back from her neck and looked up at her. “Yeah? My pretty kitten?” he smiled, watching her face flush ever so slightly 
     “Mhmm,” Y/n answered 
     “Be my girlfriend?” he asked, gently kissing the side of her neck 
     “Yes,” Y/n answered before he pulled her back down to his lips. His tongue found its place in her mouth again. 
     Y/n moaned into his mouth as his hands crept up her shirt. His warm hands gave her goosebumps. Y/n tipped his head back a bit, deepening the kiss. Minho smiled and dipped his fingers under the band of her bra before he pulled back from her lips to attach them to her neck again. 
     Y/n let out a soft moan as he gently sucked on the skin below her ear. Kissing the mask before moving down and adding another. 
     “Min,” Y/n whined as she pulled up the back of his shirt. 
     “Yeah, kitten?” he asked
     “Bed,” Y/n briefly said
     “Need daddy to pound you into his bed again?” 
     “Mhmm.”
     “Words, kitten.”
     “Yes. Please, Daddy.”
     “Good girl.”
     Minho grabbed her thighs and stood up with her. Y/n quickly wrapped herself around him as he smiled. Walking her to his room down the hall before pinning her down onto the bed. Grabbing the back of his shirt and pulling it over his head, tossing the material to the side. 
     Y/n smiled at him as he leaned back down and kissed her again. Moving one hand up her shirt again and cupping one of her breasts. Gently massaging the mound as his lips moved in sync with hers. 
     “Min,” Y/n whined against his lips 
     “Making you feel good, kitten?”
     “Mhmm.”
     Minho pulled away from her lips and sat up, “How about you strip for me? Let daddy see you, mhm?”
     Y/n eagerly stripped off her clothing, tossing it elsewhere in the room as her boyfriend watched her, palming his bulge through his gym shorts. Smiling as she laid back flat on the bed. 
     “So obedient,” Minho chuckled as used his free hand to gently rub over her clit as he got down on his stomach. Getting face to face with her cunt. 
     Y/n watched as his hands trailed up her body as he leaned in and tentatively licked her folds. Y/n let out a small moan as she grabbed his hands, guiding them up to her breasts. Feeling his lips wrap around her clit. 
     His hands gripped her breasts as he sucked on the bundle of nerves. Rubbing his thumbs over her nipples as he let his tongue roam over her clit and hole. Teasing her by dipping the tip in before pulling away and sitting up. 
     Y/n watched him sit up a bit before bringing a hand back down to her clit. Two fingers ran between her folds before he leaned down and let a glob of spit fall from his lips and onto her clit. Y/n jerked at the contact before he spread it over her. Dipping one finger into her. 
     Y/n arched her back slightly as he curled his finger up into her. Spreading her legs open more with his other hand. 
     “More, please.” Y/n begged 
     “Greedy kitty needs another finger in her?” Minho laughed yet complied. Pushing a second finger inside her. Feeling her clench around his fingers as he slowly worked her open. Leaning over her body before dipping his head down. Taking one of her nipples into his mouth. 
     Y/n wrapped her arms around his head and lightly tugged on his hair. “Fuck,” Y/n whined as his fingers barely grazed the soft spot inside her.
     Minho chuckled as he lightly bit her nipple before pulling away from her and releasing the bud. He lightly blew on the skin and watched it pebble. Minho smiled and gave the same treatment to the other nipple as his palm pressed against her clit, rubbing the bud ever so slightly. 
     Every single whine was music to Minho’s ears. Picking up his pace as her walls grasped his fingers before he felt her cum coat his fingers. “Good girl,” Minho praised her as she rode out her orgasm. 
     He kissed up her chest to her neck and pulled his fingers out of her. Hovering his fingers over her mouth. Y/n opened her mouth and wrapped her lips around his fingers. Cleaning them off before he pulled them out of her mouth with a smile. 
     He leaned over and grabbed a condom from his bedside table before sitting up on his knees. Minho pulled his shorts and boxers down. Y/n watched him spring up from the fabric, red tip leaking with precum. 
     Minho tore open the foil and grabbed the rubber. Tossing the packaging to the side and rolling the rubber down his length. Stroking himself as she held her legs open for him. Chuckling a bit as he lined the tip up at her whole 
     “Imagine if the whole office knew their boss was such a whore for her secretary,” he teased, pushing himself into her fully 
     Y/n moaned as her walls hugged his cock. He grabbed hold of the back of her knees and pushed her legs down more. 
     “Fuck,” Y/n groaned 
     Minho pulled back and started thrusting into her. Starting at a slower pace and gradually picking up. “Been thinking about this all day. Walking into the office in that damned skirt.”
     “Should’ve fucked me— oh fuck— on my desk.” Y/n moaned 
     “Yeah? Want me to bend you over your desk? Fill you up in the morning with my cum instead of bringing you coffee?”
     “Yes!” 
     Minho smiled as he moved one hand down and rolled his thumb over her sensitive clit again. Moans leaving her lips that he was sure his neighbors would complain about later but he didn’t care all too much at the moment. 
     His own moans left him as she squeezed him. Her cunt fluttered around him as he pulled a second orgasm from her. Her body was shaking under him as he picked up speed. Working himself towards his own orgasm. 
     His high hit him just as she came down from hers. Burying himself inside her as his cum filled up the rubber. His hand grabbed onto the sheets under her as he rode out his high. Occasionally thrusting into her before he was finished. 
     “Is it too soon to say I love you?” Minho asked
     “I don't think so,” Y/n said
     Minho leaned down and kissed her for the umpteenth time that night. Though, much slower this time. Y/n wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he hooked her legs around his waist. “I love you,” Minho mumbled against her lips
     “I love you too,” Y/n mumbled back
     Minho pulled back and looked down at her, “Let me get you cleaned up.”
     “Mhmm was hoping for round two,” Y/n said
     “We’ve got all night. Don't worry about that,” Minho smiled 
     “How about all weekend?” Y/n asked
     “Like that even better.”
     Y/n smiled before he pulled out of her. Getting up to grab a towel, and coming back to clean her up. 
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☾ ━━━━━━ M.LIST    TIP JAR
☾ ━━━ please support writers by reblogging and/or leaving feedback
© 2024 MINNIESMUTT. DO NOT COPY, REPUBLISH OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE
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https-lvesick · 5 months ago
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“YOU BELONG WITH ME…” | nct dream on your wedding day!
❪ ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 ❫ 𝒞 𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. how the boys react to you walking down the aisle. nct dream x fem!reader. and a big thanks to my pookie @winwintea for helping me with this!
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MARK LEE
mark would be shaking for his life. like, he couldn’t believe he was about to marry you, the girl of his dreams. the light of his day. the person he will always look forward to have in his life. when he realises you’re taking too long to show up, intrusive thoughts immediately flood his mind.
“what if she gave up on this wedding?”
“what if she regretted everything and right now she’s taking the first flight to… wherever?”
he feels his breath starts to get shallow and tears prick up his eyes. mark dries his sweaty palms on his pants and asks renjun: “is she really coming?”
“dude, stop, for god’s sake. i know it’s your wedding, but please. for the last time, she is indeed coming!” renjun was visibly annoyed. that might be the tenth time he’s asking the same thing. “mark, that woman loves you more than you even love yourself. she would never in a million years leave you.” the younger male sighs, seeing his friend’s pleased smile.
“thanks, dude…” mark sighs, more relaxed.
“you better name your kids after me, ‘cause i’m not doing all this shit for nothing.” renjun jokes, nudging the anxious groom. he checks his phone once again and smiles. “seems that your girl is coming. ready to be a married man?”
“more than ever.”
the gates are closing. the wedding march is playing. the guests are standing up. and mark feels like he will faint any moment. but as soon as he saw you, his mind went blank.
how could you get even more endearing? the white dress, the one he swore he’d be designing only for you had some minor changes, but that made you even more perfect. your makeup, your hairstyle, fuck… even the bouquet in your hand. everything was used to accentuate your beauty. the beauty that only his woman, the one and only mrs. lee could have. mark didn’t even notice he was crying until jeno handed him a cloth. he accepted and tried to dry his tears, but it was useful.
when you were handed to him, he pecked your hands and praised you.
mark was always sure that you were the one. he realised that when you left a family gathering in another town only to take care of him when he was sick. you made sure to keep him nice and comfortable and didn’t even care if you got sick too. that moment he realised he wanted you with him forever.
and now you’re ready to say the most expected “i do.”
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HUANG RENJUN
renjun is the calmest. he’s sure you love him and he does the very same, if not more. all he can do is close his eyes, take a breath and picture you. the perfect you walking down that aisle towards him in white. he can’t even tell how he’s going to react to you. the only thing he knows is that he’ll keep that memory forever: the day you’ll turn into mrs. huang.
“i can’t believe i’m here… sitting and watching the love of my life getting married to a… a… woman.” donghyeok whines, pouting.
“you shut up. if it wasn’t for my woman, you wouldn’t even be here.” renjun hisses, fixing his tie. a leash would be better than this thing.
“oh, so she made sure i was here to watch her steal my man? bro, i’m gonna have a talk with this bride.” he checks his phone and stands up. the other guys just roll their eyes, watching hyeok walk away.
“do you feel nervous?” jisung asks, handing him a glass of water.
“well, even though i know things will go as planned and i’ll be a married man in a few minutes… it’s my wedding, you know, so yeah, i’m nervous.” renjun drinks the water, patting the younger’s shoulder. “but… do you think she’s ready and that’s why haechan was checking his phone or something went wrong…”
“no. no, no, okay. there’s nothing wrong. i’m sure that in a few minutes, your bride will show up there and you’ll say the ‘i do’ and live happily with your babies. now, don’t. overthink.” jisung squeezes his shoulders and takes the glass from his friend’s hand.
renjun only murmurs a “right”.
the boys were going to their positions and the guests stood up. when the song started to play, renjun couldn’t think of anything besides why so many people before my wife?
and when you showed up in his sight, he was taken aback. his heart skipped a beat when you walked slowly towards him. he was speechless, poor man, didn’t even notice he was deadfaced. a rush of emotions hit him like a truck, but somehow, he couldn’t express any of them at the moment. you, on the other hand, were worried about why your soon-to-be-husband was not smiling or giggling or anything? he was just standing there.
“baby, are you fine?” the moment when he hears your voice, he blinks a few times before smiling and taking you from donghyeok.
“i am. it’s just… i don’t think i’ve ever seen such a gorgeous sight before. you’re absolutely stunning. not only today but always.”
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LEE JENO
jeno would be calm like it was an ordinary tuesday in his life. since the time he woke up, he thought about you and your future and he couldn’t be happier. you were about to be his ‘til death do you part, why would he be so nervous to see you?
“is he fine?” jisung asked jaemin. both of them watching their friend smile dumbly at nothing.
“i… guess… well he’s happy, isn’t he? he’s about to get married.” jisung scrunches his nose, walking to the goom.
“are you spending your best smile when your wife is not even here?” the younger teases him and jeno immediately deadpans.
“are you sure you don’t wanna see my downfall every time you think of me?” jeno asks, making the other stick his tongue at him. the groom laughs warmly, ruffing the youngest’s hair. “i can’t believe i’ll be a part of your family.”
“i can’t believe my sister is a traitor. giving up on our name like that to… take after yours…”
“you know what, i should’ve taken your name off of the guest list.” jeno teases.
“i dare you.”
minutes passed and the guests were all standing up. jeno was already standing, waiting for you. jisung was missing because he was the one walking down with you. and when the music starts to play, jeno’s heart starts to race. he thought he would be so fine, but how can he? it’s his wedding. with the woman of his life.
the moment his eyes connected with yours, he was speechless. that may be the most graceful sight he’s ever seen. he knew anything would look good on you, but this? your wedding dress makes you look like you just came from heaven to please his eyes.
he can’t say a word when you’re handed to him, all jeno can do is to let some tears fall and mutter “i love you more than anything.”
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LEE DONGHYEOK
donghyeok would be so nervous, like, he was shaking. many intrusive thoughts have been plaguing his mind recently, but you made sure to make him as confident as possible. somehow, he couldn't help but think about it. he took a deep breath and thought about you. your smile, your words of affirmation, you. the simple mention of your name, the mere thought he had about you was enough to make him calm himself.
“uhm… haechan…” mark approached him, holding his phone.
the groom shivered to hear his best friend’s tone. “what happened?”
“i think your wife is going crazy. may you please talk to her?” he handed his phone to the younger, who had his eyes open, hesitating to take the phone. “bro, i might be committing a fucking wedding crime here letting you both talk when you’re not done yet. do it.” mark shook his hand in front of donghyeok’s face.
“hi, baby.” his voice was kind of worried.
“love…” your voice softens listening to him. “why are we taking so long? i wanna see you…” the same way you could hear his smile, he could hear your pout.
“i know, my sun. i’m dying to see you too, but you need to get ready, huh? get all pretty for me…”
“but i am ready!” you whine, sighing. “i have my dress on, heels, and makeup done. i don’t need anything else! i don’t wanna sit and wait for more to have a hairstyle. you gonna mess it anyways…” you murmur the last part, making him chuckle.
“then you don’t need a hairstyle. you know i’ll find you pretty regardless. you could show up here naked and you’d be the prettiest.” donghyeok wiggles his brows.
“oh, and you’d let other people see your wife naked?” you question, jokingly, and he answers deadpan.
“never. you’re mine.” you chuckle on the other side and he can hear someone calling you. “see, you’re making people wait, do it how you want it. i’ll be here waiting for you.”
donghyeok handed the phone to its owner and he was visibly more relaxed. “ready to go?” mark asked, fixing his tie.
“sure.” and they headed to the wedding place.
when the music started to play, donghyeok was anxious. he could picture your beauty like always, but you never fail to impress him like always. he stood there, waiting for you with eyes closed, deep breathing.
when his eyes opened and he could see you, he could tell two things: first, you were as anxious as him and second, you were a goddess. he was more than right in being completely obsessed with you. how could he not? when you made him the happiest man alive, when you lit up his day when it seemed like everything was going wrong, when you fucking gave him life.
his eyes were wide open, just like his mouth. and being himself, what would be a donghyeok thing he could do there? kneel. right in front of you, like you were some kind of divine creature. and you were.
“can you please stand up? how dare you embarrass me at our wedding?” you scold him, pulling him to stand up. oh, and when you scold him? he loves it!
“just… please promise you’ll never ever leave me. i cook, i clean, i kiss your feet, but never let me live without you. i promise to never make a mistake and to make you happy for our eternity and if you want i can even birth our chil-”
“lee donghyeok, shut up.”
“yes, ma’am.” he takes your hand and you peck his lips.
“i love you more than anything. i could never leave you.” you whisper on his lips, making him smile big.
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NA JAEMIN
jaemin is so calm, that the boys almost think he has lost it. from minute to minute, he was smiling to himself and petting the cats, chatting with the guests and enjoying his time “alone” because the moment you show up and start walking towards him, his focus will be solely on you, like all the time.
“okay, so when mommy shows up, you just sit here, right? i know you all love her more than me, and i do too, but you don’t want mommy to trip on you, huh?” jaemin explains to the three white furballs sitting on the little benches he bought them.
“i can’t believe you brought these three troublemakers.” renjun approaches him, petting lucy.
“they’re our kids, how could i not? and chenle brought daegal…” he points to the dog messing with the flowers.
“right… she’s the worst.” renjun accepts. “how do you think she will be today?”
“gorgeous… as always.” jaemin replies in a blink of an eye, smiling to himself. “you know… i’ve always dreamt of this moment since i met her, but now… i just want this fucking time to speed up, ‘cause, damn, i just wanna be with my wife.” he jokes, giggling with his friend.
“you’ll have your whole life, jaem.” he pats his friend’s shoulder. “oh, and your mother asked me to tell you: you better enjoy this party with the guests for, at least, thirty minutes, ‘cause if she notices you and your wife are missing, she’s coming at you. so no babymaking at the party, please, mr. na.”
“but thirty minutes is so long…” he whines and pouts. “how am i supposed to control myself knowing she’s all mine for eternity? knowing i’ll wake up to her by my side every day. knowing she’s already carrying my baby, huh?” jaemin wiggles his eyebrows, causing the other male to gasp.
“she’s what?” renjun says out loud and the groom just shuts him, dismissing curious glances.
“surprise renjunnie, you’re gonna be an uncle.” he smiles widely. “but… care you to keep it a secret until my wife announces it? she’s been planning the perfect moment for weeks.” the other nods, still being shut by his friend. “right.” he checks renjun’s watch. “she may be coming. time to get married, lil’ bro!” he squeezes renjun’s shoulders, pets his cats and stands up, preparing himself.
less than five minutes later, there you were. in white, makeup and hair done nicely, holding your bouquet, and just… endearing. how could he have found the most perfect woman in his life? and he’s about to be yours until death do you part.
it was only you. you and him. forget about the music, guests, family, friends, and the place you were. it was just you and him in your own world. the heaven. his eyes were watching you with such love and his wide grin could never be wiped off. for him, you were his goddess, his muse, and every single thing you do is a reason to make him fall in love even more.
the moment you got close to him, jaemin took your hands and planted a chaste kiss on both, before pecking your forehead.
“i have no words to describe what i’m feeling right now, but you are the woman i’ve always dreamt of, and i’m more than glad you let me be yours.”
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ZHONG CHENLE
chenle would be proud of himself. of where he is right now, about to create his own family. you are his everything and he couldn’t be more happy about marrying the love of his life. he’d be thinking of you the entire time. he even texted you – what he “shouldn’t”, but did anyways, ‘cause he couldn’t be away from you for two days. he could be all calm outside, but his mind was thinking nonstop. he’d often pet daegal to calm himself.
“you fine?” jisung approaches him, fixing his cufflinks.
“more than i thought i would.” he smiles, still keeping daegal, who was wearing a light blue dress, in his arms.
“do you need something?” the younger asks.
“her. that’s the only thing i need right now. i swear, jisung, if she doesn’t show up in, like, five minutes, i’m gonna combust.” chenle sighs, glancing at the door. he couldn’t wait anymore. he just needs you with him. he just needs his wife.
“ningning spared us an update. she’s ready, crying tears of joy and… gorgeous.” jisung smiles along with his friend.
“i know that. i don’t even need to look at her to know it. she has always been gorgeous, ji. you don’t… shit, you don’t get it. i can’t even describe how much i love to watch her, even when she’s just waking up, she’s the most beautiful sight i’ve ever got to see.” chenle says with dreamy eyes and a silly smile decorating his lips.
“i knew you were head over heels for her, but this… is another level.” jisung rolls his eyes, tapping his best friend’s shoulder. “she’s coming. be ready.”
and he was. he was more than ready to have you as mrs. zhong, by his side for your whole life.
the moment the gates open and you show up, his eyes widen. and there, the realisation hits him hard. he is about to get married to the woman he loves the most. he is about to start his own family. chenle can’t help but let some tears fall from his eyes. you are his happiness and he’s more than sure of that.
“i…” he lets his words die on the tip of his tongue. “i want you to know that you make me the happiest man in the world every day. from the time you wake up, to the time you sleep, you’re always by my side and i’m grateful for having you as now my wife.” chenle pecks your forehead, making you cry even more of joy.
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PARK JISUNG
jisung would be in undeniable despair. boy would be so nervous he had fainted like two times before going to your wedding place. he couldn’t believe that out of the others, he was the first to get married, but what to do? he was sure it was you who he wanted in his life forever. you were the love of his life, why wait any more? he just didn’t imagine all of this would be so desperate. but, in fact, he hadn’t much time to get nervous when he had his friends teasing him for life.
“jisung why don’t you sit here, drink this water and try to relax?” renjun asks in a calming voice, handing him a glass of water, which was gladly accepted by the younger.
“i can’t believe our little jisung is getting married before me.” haechan whines, making the groom roll his eyes.
“maybe if you had, at least, a girlfriend you could think of getting married before me.” jisung says in a low tone, standing up.
“wow! hey! why the wildness?” donghyeok scoffs, crossing his arms.
“when she will be here, jaemin?” he asks his friend, who is too busy flirting with one of the guests. “i swear to god… i have useless friends.” jisung murmurs, but renjun clears his throat, clearly disapproving of his opinion, for him at least. “i’m gonna call her.”
“no, no. you can’t do it!” jeno interrupts the younger, who was already taking his phone. “don’t you know it gives you bad luck?”
“you know what else gives bad luck? me not being able to see my wife!” jisung smiles, averting his guest’s curious glances.
“yeah, your wife, man! didn’t even get married and is already claiming her.” chenle cheers, patting the groom’s back, teasing the poor boy.
“i’ll make sure to not invite any of you for our vow renewal.” jisung grits his teeth. “neither our children's birthday, haechan.” he adds, sensing something about to come from the older male.
“and i’m the delusional one… bro is already thinking of children…” haechan says dismissively.
“again, i’m the one getting married. i can think about it.”
“i’m ignoring you right now. you’re getting wilder each day about our love life.”
“if you had one…” mark shows up, catching his best friend’s tantrums. haechan scoffs, looking at the other. “man, you’re ready? she’s about to come.” when these words come out of mark’s mouth, jisung’s eyes just lighten up.
as soon as you show up, jisung can’t help but shed his first tears, that’ll soon turn into a whole sobbing seeing you walking calmly at him. and you can’t help but laugh a little at him. you knew he would cry, but you thought he’d wait a little longer.
“babe, it’s okay…” you say in a soothing voice, drying his tears while caressing his cheeks.
“you think i’m a crybaby now.” he says, sobbing. “but you’re just too beautiful and we’re getting married, i’m so happy.”
“oh, don’t worry love, i knew you were a crybaby from the start.” he deadpans, for a while, his tears stop falling. “and i love you even more for that. you’re sensitive, cute, and the love of my life. i couldn’t have chosen the best husband.” you boop his nome, before pecking it.
“fuck… i love you so much, i’d go to the moon for you.”
347 notes · View notes
estellan0vella · 3 months ago
Text
More Than Enough Time: L. Mh Lee Minho x fem!reader (College AU)
WC: 11.6K
CW: Anxiety, Menace Jisung, Secret Simp Minho
General Masterlist SKZ Masterlist Part II
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The room is alive with the sound of clinking glasses, murmured conversations, and the occasional burst of laughter that slices through the warm air of the grand banquet hall. The dim, golden glow of chandeliers drips overhead, casting a soft light across the elegantly dressed guests.
You sit at the round table, nervously smoothing your hands over the silk of your champagne-coloured gown. Every so often, your fingers toy with the sapphire-encrusted hairpin holding your hair in place, a gift from your grandmother. It's more than a piece of jewellery; it's a talisman tonight, something to cling to.
Beside you, Jisung, your best friend, fidgets in his seat, drumming his fingers on the table. He's dressed in a sleek black suit that contrasts nicely with his hair, but despite the confident exterior, you know he's just as anxious as you are. But for once, it feels like your nerves are trying to outdo his.
"Fuck, why did I agree to this?" Jisung mutters under his breath, glancing at you with wide eyes. "I swear to God, Y/N, if I have to stand up there and give a speech, I might just throw up all over the stage."
You force a chuckle, though it feels weak in your throat. "Join the club. I feel like my stomach's doing backflips. What if I trip in these shoes? What if I can't say anything at all and I just stand there like a fucking idiot?"
Jisung snorts, giving you a sympathetic look. "We're both fucked."
Across from you, Bang Chan, the Alpha Phi fraternity president, leans back in his chair, sipping on a glass of whiskey. His black hair is slicked back, giving him a polished, suave look that almost distracts from the fact that he's one of the rowdiest guys you know. He gives you both a grin that's way too confident for your liking.
"Relax," Chan says. "You guys are gonna crush it. You wrote that article like badasses, now just get up there and take the damn award."
Jisung glares at him. "Easy for you to say, Mr. Football Star. You literally thrive on people staring at you."
"Exactly," Chan grins wider. "Which is why you should listen to me."
You shift in your seat, glancing around the table. You're surrounded by Alpha Phi members tonight, all of whom seem a lot more comfortable in their skin than you feel in yours.
Hyunjin sits next to Chan, looking ridiculously perfect as always. His long black hair falls just past his shoulders, and he's tapping his fingers rhythmically on the table while staring off into the distance. He's receiving an award tonight too, for something in the arts, and though he looks calm, you can see his jaw clenching every few seconds.
"Stop staring at the program," Hyunjin mutters to you without even glancing your way. "It's not gonna change."
You blink, realizing that you've been staring at the folded piece of paper in front of you, the one listing all the awards for the night. Yours and Jisung's, The Innovative Journalism Award, is still about fifteen minutes away, and the waiting is fucking killing you.
"Fuck," you whisper under your breath, more to yourself than anyone else.
Felix, sitting on the other side of Jisung, notices your stress. He gives you a soft, warm smile, his freckles standing out against his fair skin. "You'll do fine, Y/N. We all believe in you."
"Yeah," Jeongin chimes in from the end of the table. His hair falls slightly into his eyes as he leans forward, resting his chin in his hand. He's getting an award too, something for fashion design. "We all know you're the smartest one here, so just relax, okay?"
You nod, but the knot in your stomach refuses to untangle. It's not just about the award. Sure, winning an award for the article you and Jisung wrote, a deep dive into the theory that Jack the Ripper might have been a woman, is huge.
It's the culmination of months of research, late nights, and too many cups of coffee. But the idea of standing in front of a room full of people, having all eyes on you, waiting for you to say something intelligent... it's suffocating.
Minho, who's been quiet up until now, finally speaks. He's seated directly across from you, his deep cherry red hair gleaming under the soft light of the chandeliers. "You'll be fine," he says simply, his voice calm and steady. "Just breathe."
You meet his gaze for a second longer than you intend to, feeling the weight of his words. Minho is always like this. Quietly confident, never too loud or overbearing. He's the type who can make you feel like everything's going to be okay, even when you're pretty fucking sure it's not.
"You make it sound so easy," you mutter, breaking the eye contact and taking a quick sip of your drink, trying to focus on something else. Anything else.
Hyunjin shifts beside you, his gaze flickering to the stage. "It's easy for Minho because he's never nervous. Must be nice to be so fucking chill all the time."
Minho shrugs, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly in a half-smile. "Just a talent, I guess."
Jisung rolls his eyes. "Well, share some of that talent with us because I feel like I'm about to shit myself."
There's a round of laughter at the table, but you can't join in. The knot in your stomach tightens as the minutes tick by. Your hands, now resting on the table, feel clammy. The silk of your gown is suddenly too heavy, clinging to your skin in a way that makes you feel trapped. You know no one else can hear your heart pounding, but it feels deafening in your own ears.
You glance at the stage again, watching as the current award is being presented to some group for their contributions to environmental science. You're not even paying attention to the speech, just counting down the minutes, waiting for your turn. You can feel it creeping up on you. The anxiety. The tightness in your chest, the shallow breaths, the overwhelming need to get the fuck out of this room.
Suddenly, it's too much. The noise, the lights, the heat. You need air. Now.
"I—uh—I need to use the restroom," you stammer, pushing your chair back.
Jisung glances at you, concern flashing in his eyes, but he nods. "You good?"
You nod quickly, too quickly. "Yeah. Just nerves."
Before anyone can stop you, you're on your feet, weaving through the tables and out of the banquet hall. The moment you step into the hallway, the cool air hits your skin, and it's a relief, but only for a second. Your heels click against the marble floor as you make your way down the corridor, your breath coming in shallow gasps now.
You find a small side room and slip inside, closing the door behind you. The silence is almost jarring after the noise of the banquet hall, but you're grateful for it. You lean against the door, pressing one hand to your stomach and the other to your forehead. The room feels like it's spinning, and you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to focus, trying to breathe.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you whisper to yourself, feeling the panic rising in your chest.
You yank the sapphire hairpin out of your hair, letting your carefully pinned-up style fall apart, the soft strands brushing against your bare shoulders. The pin feels cold in your hand, a grounding sensation, but it's not enough to stop the wave of anxiety crashing over you.
Your stomach twists painfully, and you press harder against it, as if that will somehow make it stop. But it's not working. Nothing's working.
You lean over slightly, bracing yourself on your knees, trying to remember what the hell you're supposed to do in moments like this. Breathe. You're supposed to breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Simple. Easy. Except it's not.
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Back in the hall, the crowd shifts with anticipation as the MC steps up to the podium, smiling widely at the gathered guests.
"And now, the recipients of this year's Innovative Journalism Award. For their brilliant work on the investigative article delving into the theory that Jack the Ripper may have been a woman, please welcome Han Jisung and Y/N L/N!"
There's a pause. Jisung's heart nearly jumps out of his chest as he hears your name. He looks over to the seat you left empty minutes ago, feeling the weight of everyone's eyes turning to him.
"Fuck," Jisung mutters under his breath, pushing his chair back and standing up.
The nerves that were already gnawing at him double in intensity. His best friend isn't there to share the load, and now, he's completely on the spot. He glances over at Minho, who's been silently watching him.
Minho, though still seated, leans over slightly. "Where the hell is Y/N?"
Jisung runs a hand through his hair, his heart racing. "She, uh... she went to the restroom or something. She's been freaking out all night. I think she might be having one of her moments, man."
Minho's expression darkens slightly with concern, and he pushes his chair back. "I'll go find her."
"Wait, wait," Jisung hisses, grabbing Minho's wrist as he's about to stand. "What the fuck do I say to them up there?"
Minho glances toward the stage where the MC is starting to look a little confused, waiting for someone to approach. "Make up some bullshit. Tell them she had to take a phone call or something, just so they don't start asking too many fucking questions."
Jisung frowns, his anxiety doubling. "Dude, I can't do this shit on my own."
Minho's eyes soften for a second, something almost rare to see from him. "I know. But you've got this. Just give her the credit she deserves, take the award, and make sure someone films it so she can see it later. Chan will do that. I'll make sure she's okay."
Jisung clenches his fists for a moment, feeling the pressure crushing him. The thought of going up there alone, without you, makes him feel like he's about to pass out. But when he looks into Minho's eyes, he knows he's right. You're the priority right now.
"Alright," Jisung says finally, his voice tight with nerves. "Just... just make sure Y/N's okay, alright? You know how she gets with this kind of shit."
"I'll handle it," Minho nods, his voice low but firm. He claps Jisung on the shoulder. "Now go get the fucking award."
Jisung exhales sharply, watching as Minho slips away from the table, moving swiftly through the hall. He takes a deep breath, feeling the weight of what he has to do next.
"Chan," Jisung mutters to his friend, who is still seated at the table, looking between him and the stage.
"Yeah?"
"Film this for Y/N, alright? Minho's going to find her."
Chan raises an eyebrow but nods, pulling out his phone without a word. Jisung swallows down the rising panic and heads toward the stage, his steps feeling heavy as the crowd watches him.
Minho doesn't waste time as he leaves the banquet hall, moving swiftly down the corridor. His steps echo softly in the quiet hallway, the muffled sounds of the award ceremony still filtering through the door behind him.
He's seen you spiral like this before, and his heart tightens in his chest. You're tough as hell most of the time, but when the anxiety hits, it hits hard. Minho knows that look in your eyes all too well. The panic, the overwhelming urge to escape. He's watched you, time and again, try to fight it, to shove it down, but sometimes, it's just too much.
You're not the type to cry during these moments; that's not how your panic works. Instead, you go silent, withdraw, pull yourself in so tight that it's like you're trying to disappear. Minho's learned to recognize the signs, the little tells. Like how you start fidgeting with your hair or that sapphire hairpin you always wear when you're stressed. The one that belonged to your grandmother. It's your good luck charm, though tonight it seems like it's doing little to stave off the rising storm inside you.
As Minho searches for you, he opens door after door, moving quickly but not frantically. His mind stays focused, methodical. He doesn't need to be panicked; that won't help you. He knows you well enough to know where you'd go in moments like this. Somewhere quiet, somewhere empty.
Finally, he reaches a small room at the end of the hallway, and when he pushes the door open, he sees you.
You're pacing back and forth, your gown swishing gently as you move. One hand is pressed to your forehead, the other to your stomach, like you're trying to physically hold yourself together. Your breathing is shallow, quick, and your eyes are wide with that familiar look of dread.
Minho's heart breaks a little as he watches you. You look so vulnerable, so unlike the confident woman you usually are. Yet, at the same time, there's something undeniably beautiful about you, even now. Even in the middle of your anxiety, you manage to carry a grace that makes his chest tighten for entirely different reasons. But now's not the time for that.
He steps into the doorway and knocks gently on the frame. "Hey, sweetheart," he says softly, using the nickname he's reserved just for you.
You look up, startled at first, but then you see it's Minho. A small, shaky breath leaves your lips. "Hey, Minho," you murmur, your voice quieter than usual.
Minho takes a few steps into the room, closing the door behind him, sealing off the rest of the world. "You doing alright?" he asks, though he already knows the answer.
"Yeah... I'm fine," you lie, but the strain in your voice gives you away. "I just... I don't want to go up there."
He nods, stepping closer to you, not crowding your space but just enough to make sure you know he's there. "I know," he says quietly.
He reaches out, gently placing his hand on the back of your neck, his fingers lightly brushing the soft skin there. His thumb traces over your pulse point, and he can feel how fast your heart is racing.
"It's okay. Jisung's up there right now, telling them you had to step out for an important phone call. No one's gonna make a big deal about it."
You blink at him, processing his words. "He did?"
"Yeah," Minho confirms, his voice soothing. "Chan's filming it too, so you'll still get to see the moment you're credited for the work. Don't worry about it. You don't need to put yourself through that shit."
You let out a small breath, your shoulders sagging with relief. The pressure in your chest eases slightly, though the tightness in your stomach remains. Minho's thumb continues its gentle rhythm on your neck, grounding you, pulling you back to the present.
Suddenly, Minho pulls you into a hug. His arms wrap around you, firm but gentle, and he presses his cheek against yours. The warmth of his body, the solidness of his embrace, catches you off guard for a second, but then you relax into him. He smells like something warm and comforting, and you breathe it in, your arms coming up to grip his shoulders as you rest your head against his.
He holds you tightly, his cheek still pressed against yours, and rocks you slightly, back and forth. It's the same thing he does for Jisung when he's panicking, the pressure of the hug helping to suppress the nervous system, calming everything down.
Minho doesn't say anything for a while, just keeps holding you, his cheek brushing yours, his thumb still moving gently on the back of your neck. His breathing is calm, steady, and before long, you find your own breathing starting to match his.
The scent of your mango and passionfruit body spray lingers in the air, and Minho can't help but smile a little to himself. He's always adored that scent on you. It's light and sweet, just like you, and being this close to you, holding you like this, it makes his heart pound in his chest. But he pushes those feelings aside. Right now, it's about you, not him.
"You're crashing with Jisung at the frat tonight, right?" Minho asks after a moment, his voice low and calm.
You nod against him. "Yeah, that was the plan."
Minho pulls back just enough to look at you, his hands still resting on your shoulders. "Let's get you back then. Fuck these fancy assholes. You earned your award, you don't need to torture yourself by staying here. Take those torture devices off your feet, too. They're not doing you any favours."
You glance down at your stilettos, your brows furrowing. "I should've worn wedges. I hate these fucking shoes."
Minho chuckles softly, shaking his head. He crouches down in front of you, his fingers already working on the small buckles of your stilettos. "Next time, wear the wedges. I know you prefer them."
You watch as he carefully unbuckles your shoes, slipping them off your feet one at a time. His movements are gentle, and something about the simple act of him helping you out of your heels brings another wave of calm. He stands back up, holding your shoes in one hand, giving you a small smirk. "Better?"
"Yeah," you murmur, wiggling your toes against the cool floor. "Better."
Minho slips his suit jacket off and hands it to you. "Here, put this on. It'll help with the cold when we head back."
You take the jacket, pulling it over your shoulders. It's too big, but the weight of it is comforting, and the scent of his cologne clings to the fabric, making you feel a little more secure.
Before you can say anything else, Minho pulls out his phone and quickly dials a number. He holds the phone up to his ear, waiting for the other line to pick up.
"Yo, Felix," he says when the call connects. "I'm taking Y/N back to the frat. She's okay, but she needs to get out of here. You guys good?"
There's a muffled response on the other end of the line, and Minho nods. "Cool. Tell Jisung I found her, and we'll meet you all back at the house later." Another pause and Minho chuckles softly. "Yeah, I know you were planning on ditching after Hyunjin and Jeongin get their awards. We'll see you guys then."
He hangs up the phone and tucks it back into his pocket, turning his attention back to you. "Alright, let's get the hell out of here."
Without waiting for you to argue, Minho crouches down, turning his back toward you. "Get on."
You blink in surprise. "What?"
"Get on," he repeats, glancing over his shoulder at you. "I'm giving you a piggyback. Your feet are gonna hurt like hell if you walk back barefoot."
You hesitate for a second, feeling a little self-conscious, but the look in Minho's eyes is so earnest, so full of quiet understanding, that you don't argue. You slip your arms around his neck, and he hooks his hands under your thighs, lifting you up with ease. The weight of the world seems to fall away as you rest your chin on his shoulder, your arms wrapped loosely around him.
As he starts walking, you close your eyes for a moment, letting the cool night air hit your face as you exit the building. The campus is quiet at this time of night, only the sound of Minho's footsteps echoing softly on the pavement.
"Feel better?" he asks after a few moments, his voice soft.
"Yeah," you whisper, resting your head against his shoulder. "Thank you, Minho. I just... I couldn't handle it in there."
"I know," he replies gently. "And that's fine. There's no point in torturing yourself for an award you already earned. You don't need to prove anything to anyone."
You nod against him, feeling a little lighter with every step. The anxiety that had been clawing at your chest earlier is slowly dissipating, and you can focus on the steady rhythm of Minho's breathing, the warmth of his back against your chest. He carries you across campus with ease, his hands never faltering as he supports you.
"You know," Minho says after a while, his voice cutting through the quiet, "next time you feel like this, don't wait until it gets so bad, alright? Just grab me, or Jisung, or any of us. We've got you."
You smile slightly, your fingers curling a little tighter around his shoulders. "I'll try."
"You better," he says, a teasing note in his voice, though there's still that underlying sincerity that makes your heart warm. "Because if I have to chase you down in the middle of every fancy event, I'm gonna start charging you for these piggyback rides."
You laugh softly, the sound feeling good in your chest. "Deal. I'll make sure to pay you in pizza."
"Now we're talking."
The rest of the walk is quiet, comfortable. You can feel the weight of the night lifting off your shoulders as you approach the Alpha Phi house. By the time you reach the front door, you feel almost like yourself again, thanks to Minho and his steady presence.
When he finally sets you down in front of the house, he gives you a small smile. "See? Not so bad, right?"
You nod, smiling back at him, feeling more grateful than you can express. "Not so bad at all."
Minho grins at you as he unlocks the door to the Alpha Phi house, holding it open for you to step inside. The familiar warmth of the frat house surrounds you, a stark contrast to the cold, fancy banquet hall you'd just escaped from. The moment you cross the threshold, some of the leftover tension in your body melts away.
"Come on," Minho says, his voice low and relaxed, the same voice that had been grounding you since he found you spiralling. "Let's get you something to drink."
You follow him down the hall toward the kitchen, the soft glow of the house's lights making the space feel cosy, almost like home. The tension from the evening still clings to you a little, but Minho's presence beside you is like a steady anchor, keeping you from drifting back into panic.
When you enter the kitchen, Minho heads straight for the fridge, glancing over his shoulder at you. "What's your poison tonight? You look like you could use something strong."
You laugh softly, settling onto one of the barstools at the island, adjusting your floor-length gown so it drapes neatly around you. "Surprise me."
Minho pulls out a bottle of pineapple juice and a bottle of vodka from the fridge, giving you a wink before he grabs a couple of glasses from the cupboard. He makes quick work of mixing your drink, pouring a generous amount of vodka into the glass before topping it off with juice.
He slides your drink across the counter, the clink of the glass against the marble catching your attention. "Vodka pineapple for the lady," he says, raising his own glass. "And a double JD for me because, fuck, we've earned it."
You chuckle, taking the glass and sipping it. The sweetness of the pineapple juice mixed with the vodka goes down smoothly, and you feel some of the remaining tension in your chest loosen. Minho takes a sip of his own drink, watching you with a soft smile.
"You know," he says after a moment, leaning against the counter, "if it helps at all, you were definitely the most beautiful girl in attendance tonight."
You feel heat rise to your cheeks at his words, and you can't help but smile. "You're full of shit, Minho."
"I'm serious," he insists, his eyes twinkling with amusement but also sincerity. "The moment you walked into the hall in that dress, I'm pretty sure every guy there forgot why the fuck they were even attending. It was all eyes on you."
You shake your head, sipping your drink again to hide the fact that his words make you feel more flustered than you care to admit. "Well, I'm not so sure about that, but thanks."
Minho smirks, taking another sip of his drink before his gaze softens again. "It was also pretty fucking sweet how Jisung's pocket square and tie matched your dress."
You grin, finally letting out a genuine laugh at that. "Yeah, he insisted. Said best friends and co-journalists have to match, so everyone knows we're the shit."
Minho chuckles, shaking his head in that fond, almost exasperated way he always does when he talks about Jisung. "Of course he did."
You're about to take another sip of your drink when you suddenly remember something, and your smile falters. "Shit... I forgot my hairpin in the room."
Minho doesn't hesitate. "Don't worry about it. I'll text Chan, and he'll grab it for you before they leave."
You nod, a little relieved. "Thanks. I'd hate to lose it. It was my grandmother's."
Minho pulls out his phone, already typing a message to Chan. As he sends it, he leans against the counter again, taking another long sip of his drink. "So," he says, his voice casual, "to be completely honest, I was supposed to read your article, but I never got around to it. You know, being a veterinary science major kind of takes up all my fucking time."
He's lying, and you have no idea. Minho read that article the moment it was published, studied every word like it was the most important thing he'd ever laid eyes on.
He remembers the excitement in your voice when you first started talking about the project with Jisung, and he couldn't help but get curious. So, yeah, he read it, but he doesn't want to give that away. He wants you to light up and tell him about it yourself, to see the passion in your eyes as you explain your work.
Your face brightens at his interest, and you lean forward slightly, resting your elbow on the counter as you take another sip of your drink.
"Oh my God, you're missing out," you say, your voice already more animated. "Jisung and I have this theory that Jack the Ripper was actually a woman. A midwife, to be specific."
Minho raises an eyebrow, feigning curiosity. "A midwife? That's a hell of a theory. Go on."
You nod, excited now, the exhaustion from the evening momentarily forgotten. "Right? Think about it. A midwife would have had access to all the knowledge needed to perform those surgical cuts on the victims. And during that time, no one would've questioned a woman walking around in blood-covered clothes. She could've been out at all hours, and people would've just assumed she was delivering a baby or something."
Minho swirls the drink in his glass, watching you intently as you explain. "That actually makes a lot of fucking sense. Victorian sexism would've worked in her favour."
"Exactly!" you exclaim, your eyes lighting up. "Back then, no one would've suspected a woman. They were too focused on looking for some deranged man, and the police reports were all written from a male perspective. They overlooked so many possibilities simply because they didn't think a woman could be capable of something so gruesome."
Minho takes another sip of his drink, his gaze fixed on you. "That's pretty fucking brilliant. What about the eyewitness reports, though? There was at least one person who claimed to see a man near one of the crime scenes, right?"
You nod, already ready to dive into that part of the discussion. "Yeah, but Jisung and I argued that just because someone was in the area doesn't mean they were guilty. There are always people wandering around in cities, especially in a place like Whitechapel during that time. Plus, eyewitness testimony is notoriously unreliable, especially in the dark, in a chaotic place like that."
Minho's lips curl into a small smile as he watches you. You're practically glowing now, completely immersed in the subject matter. This is exactly why he brought it up.
Seeing you like this, seeing you so passionate, it's what he loves most about you. Though he'd never admit that out loud. He sets his glass down and leans in a little closer.
"So, basically," he says, keeping his tone light and teasing, "you're saying Jack the Ripper might've just been an extremely intelligent, sadistic woman who knew how to avoid suspicion by playing into society's sexist expectations."
"Exactly!" you say again, nodding enthusiastically. "It's just a theory, of course, but it fits so many of the facts. And honestly, it makes a lot more sense than half the other theories out there."
Minho chuckles, shaking his head. "I'm impressed. That's some seriously clever shit. I'm pissed I didn't read the article now."
You smirk, taking another sip of your drink. "Well, you can still read it. It's not going anywhere."
"I will," Minho says, though he already knows it word for word. "You and Jisung killed it."
Your smile softens at the compliment, and you feel that warmth in your chest again. The same one that always seems to appear when Minho says things like this. He has a way of making you feel proud of your work, of reminding you that you're capable, even when you don't always believe it yourself.
You glance down at your glass, twirling it in your hands. "Thanks, Minho. It means a lot, really. It was... it was a tough project, but we're both really proud of how it turned out."
"As you should be," he says, his voice soft but firm. "You've always been fucking brilliant. That's why it pisses me off when you get in your head about shit."
You laugh softly, though there's a note of vulnerability in your voice. "Yeah, well, getting in my head is kind of my speciality."
Minho's expression softens, and for a moment, the teasing drops. He steps around the island, standing in front of you as he leans on the counter, his hands resting on the marble surface.
"Listen," he says, his voice lower now, more serious. "I know tonight was rough, but don't let it get to you. You've already proven yourself, not just with the award, but with everything you've done. And you've got people who have your back, alright?"
You blink, a little surprised by the sudden shift in his tone. Minho's always been good at saying the right thing, but this feels different. You meet his gaze, and there's something there, something you can't quite place. It's intense but not overwhelming, grounding in a way that makes your chest feel warm.
"I... yeah," you murmur, your voice softer. "Thanks, Minho. Really."
He doesn't say anything for a moment, just holds your gaze, and then he breaks the moment with a small grin. "Now, how about we ditch this heavy shit and enjoy the rest of the night? We've got the whole house to ourselves for a bit."
You laugh, nodding. "Yeah, sounds like a plan."
Minho taps the counter. "I'll top up your drink."
The door to the Alpha Phi house swings open, and the sound of footsteps fills the hallway as the rest of the guys file in after the awards ceremony. You hear Jisung before you see him, his voice cutting through the noise with its usual mixture of excitement and concern.
"Y/N!"
The moment he spots you sitting calmly at the counter, his eyes soften with relief, but his feet don't slow down. He rushes over, crossing the room in a few long strides, and immediately starts fussing over you like a mother hen.
"Shit, are you okay? You should've texted me or something. I would've ditched and come with you."
You can't help but smile at the sight of him. Jisung's still wearing the matching pocket square and tie that he insisted on wearing to match your champagne-coloured gown, though his suit jacket is a little rumpled now from the event. His hair sticks up in odd directions, no doubt from running his fingers through it a thousand times since you left the hall. He looks stressed, but the sight is comforting in its familiarity. You let him fuss, knowing that this is just what he does. What you do for each other.
"I'm fine, Ji," you assure him, though your voice is soft. "Promise."
Jisung's eyes narrow slightly, his hands gently squeezing your shoulders as he bends down to wrap his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on top of your head. "No, you're not," he mumbles, his voice quieter now, almost like he's talking to himself. "It felt wrong up there without you. I fucking hated it."
You reach up and pat his arms, which are still wrapped around you, a small smile playing on your lips. "I'm sorry."
Jisung shakes his head, pressing his cheek to your hair. "No, I should've ditched with you. You know I hate leaving you alone when you're feeling like that. I shouldn't have left you with Minho, that stinky prick."
"Oi!" Minho's voice cuts in from across the kitchen, where he's leaning casually against the counter, drink in hand. He looks amused rather than offended, a teasing grin on his face. "Who do you think you're talking about, you cheeky fucker?"
You giggle at the exchange, and Jisung, ever the dramatic one, tightens his hold on you as if Minho's words have personally wounded him. "I'm talking about you, you smelly asshole," he says, sticking his tongue out at Minho while burying his face further into your hair, clearly unbothered by his friend's retort.
Minho rolls his eyes but says nothing else, instead taking another sip of his drink and shaking his head in mock disbelief. He watches the two of you with a small smile on his lips, though there's something else lingering in his eyes. Something softer, more careful. He doesn't push the banter further, choosing to stay quiet for now.
The door opens again, and Chan enters the kitchen, looking as polished as ever despite the long night. He's still got his suit jacket on, though it's clear he's ready to relax as he pulls out his phone, glancing around at the group.
"Oi, Y/N," he says, catching your attention. "You left something behind."
Chan reaches into his blazer pocket and pulls out your grandmother's sapphire-encrusted hairpin. Relief floods through you as you realize you'd completely forgotten about it being in a bubble of comfort with Minho. You reach out to take it, but before you can, Minho steps forward and gently takes it from Chan's hand.
"Here," Minho says softly, his voice lacking the usual teasing tone as he approaches you. "Let me."
Jisung watches the exchange with narrowed eyes, his arms still wrapped around you. He doesn't say anything, but you can feel the tension in the way his body stiffens slightly as Minho steps in closer.
Minho's touch is gentle as he slides the hairpin back into your hair, taking care to make sure it's secure. His fingers brush against your scalp, sending a soft shiver down your spine, but you ignore the feeling. When he's done, he gives you a small smile, his eyes lingering on yours for just a moment longer than usual.
"Perfect," Minho says softly, stepping back.
Before you can thank him, Jisung immediately shoos him away, his hands fluttering in the air as if to physically push Minho aside. "Alright, alright, back off, Romeo. I've got it from here."
Minho rolls his eyes again, but there's an amused smirk on his face as he steps back toward the counter, grabbing his drink. "You're so fucking possessive, Ji."
Jisung doesn't bother responding to that, instead wrapping his arms more securely around your shoulders as he glares at Minho's back. You don't miss the way Jisung's grip tightens slightly, though he's still careful not to make you uncomfortable. He's always been overprotective when it comes to you, but lately, it's been more intense. Especially when it comes to Minho.
"Chan, have we got anything to drink?" Hyunjin's voice cuts through the tension as he and Jeongin finally make their way into the kitchen, both of them looking ready to relax after the long night.
Chan nods, already pulling out glasses from the cupboard. "Yeah, yeah. What do you want? We've got plenty left from the last party."
As the group starts grabbing drinks and chatting amongst themselves, Minho silently pours you another drink, setting it in front of you with a small smile. You notice that he doesn't say anything, just gives you a look that says he's checking in without being too obvious about it.
Jisung, meanwhile, is still fussing over you, his arms around your shoulders like a security blanket. He doesn't let go, not even when you shift slightly in your seat to take a sip of your drink. He stays close, watching you with worried eyes as if he's waiting for you to show any sign of distress.
"Ji, I'm okay," you assure him again, though your voice is soft. "Really."
He huffs, not fully convinced. "Yeah, well, I'll be the judge of that."
Chan finishes pouring drinks for everyone and turns to the group with a grin, raising his glass. "Alright, before we get too fucked up, let's do a toast. To Jeongin and Hyunjin for their awards, and of course, to Y/N and Jisung for killing it with that award-winning article."
The group raises their glasses in agreement, and Minho tilts his glass toward you, a grin tugging at his lips. "Cheers to Y/N," he says softly, his eyes meeting yours.
You smile back at him, feeling the warmth of his gaze settle over you like a comforting blanket. It's moments like this, when he's not teasing or throwing sarcastic comments, that you feel a strange connection to him, something that you can't quite put your finger on. But before you can dwell on it, Jisung pulls you closer, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head.
"To us," Jisung mutters, his voice soft in your ear. "But mostly to you."
You chuckle, clinking your glass against his. "To us."
The rest of the night passes in a blur of laughter, drinks, and the comfortable warmth of being around friends.
Eventually, Jisung drags you up the stairs, leading you through the dimly lit hallway toward his room. After the long, chaotic night of the awards ceremony, and the endless rounds of small talk and congratulations, this is the sanctuary you need. Being around Jisung, your best friend, feels like hitting reset on a night that left your emotions tangled.
"Come on, let's chill," he says as he pushes open his door. His room is just as messy as always. Clothes scattered on the floor, textbooks stacked haphazardly on his desk, and the faint glow of those stars you stuck to his ceiling two months ago.
You flop onto his bed beside him, both of you lying side by side, staring up at the ceiling. The stars glow faintly in the dark, their soft light casting a surreal calm over the room.
"Remember when you made me put these fucking stars up?" Jisung says, his voice half-teasing, half-nostalgic. "I thought they were gonna look stupid, but..."
"They're kind of nice, right?" you finish for him, smirking. "See? You should listen to me more often."
Jisung snorts. "Yeah, well, don't get used to it. This is like, a one-time thing."
The comfortable silence that follows is filled with the distant hum of voices from downstairs, but up here, it's just the two of you. It's moments like this, with Jisung, that you appreciate the ease of your friendship. There's no need to fill every second with conversation. Just being here, next to each other, is enough.
You close your eyes for a second, letting the tension from the night melt away. But then, Jisung, ever the one to break a peaceful moment with something unexpected, speaks up again.
"You know," he starts, and you immediately know there's something coming. His tone is a little too casual. "I was thinking... maybe I should set you up with Felix or Chan."
Your eyes snap open, turning your head toward him, caught completely off guard. "What?"
He's lying there next to you, staring up at the ceiling like he didn't just drop a bombshell on you.
"I'm serious," he continues, his voice still annoyingly nonchalant. "They both think you're amazing and beautiful. Felix especially, he's been crushing on you for ages."
You blink at him, unsure whether to laugh or be genuinely surprised. "Uh... I don't know, Ji. I mean, maybe, but I'd have to think about it."
Jisung shrugs, still staring at the ceiling like this is no big deal. "No pressure. I just think you and Felix could be really good together. He's sweet, thoughtful. Plus, he thinks you're like, Aphrodite-level beautiful."
You snort. "Aphrodite? Really?"
"I'm dead fucking serious," Jisung says, turning his head to look at you. "I've heard him talk about you. The dude practically melts when you're around."
You can't help but smile a little at the thought. Felix has always been a close friend, but you never really thought about him in that way. He's easy to talk to, kind, and funny in that understated way of his.
"I don't know," you say, rolling onto your back again, staring at the stars. "Felix is really sweet, but has he ever actually said anything? Like, to me?"
Jisung shakes his head, waving the question away like it's a minor detail. "No, but come on, he's shy. Attraction is the start, right? You two have good chemistry, and he's definitely into you."
You bite your lip, unsure of how to respond. You've always been close with Felix, and while the idea of a date with him doesn't sound bad, it feels unexpected. Like something you hadn't even considered before tonight.
"And Chan?" you ask, more to fill the silence than because you're seriously considering it.
Jisung shrugs again. "Chan's great too, but he's more focused on school and music right now. I think Felix is the better choice if you're looking for something real, you know?"
You can't help but laugh at how serious Jisung sounds. "Since when are you the expert on my love life?"
"Hey," he protests, sitting up on the bed and crossing his arms. "I'm your best friend. I know you better than anyone, and I know what's good for you."
You roll your eyes. "Right. Of course, you do."
"I'm just saying," Jisung continues, grinning now, "one date with Felix won't hurt. See where things go. If it works out, great. If not, no big deal."
You sigh, leaning back on your elbows. He's persistent, you'll give him that. But there's something about the way he's pushing this that makes you wonder if there's more to it than just wanting to set you up with Felix.
"Okay," you say finally, letting out a deep breath. "Fine. One date won't hurt."
Jisung beams at you, clearly pleased with himself. "Fuck yeah. I'll talk to him tomorrow and make sure everything's set for tomorrow night."
You raise an eyebrow, sitting up fully now. "Wait, tomorrow night? You're already planning this?"
"Yup," Jisung says, completely unbothered by your incredulity. "I'll talk to Felix in the morning. He's probably just waiting for an excuse to ask you out anyway."
"You're ridiculous, you know that?"
Jisung just grins, leaning back on his hands. "You love me."
You roll your eyes but smile despite yourself. "Yeah, yeah."
The room falls into another comfortable silence, the distant sounds of the guys downstairs still faintly audible. You stare up at the stars again, wondering what tomorrow will bring. Felix is sweet, and he's always been a good friend. Maybe this date could be something more.
But before you can think too much about it, Jisung speaks up again.
"Felix is seriously into you, you know," he says, his voice softer now. "He hasn't said it outright, but I can tell. You're the kind of person he'd fall hard for."
You glance over at Jisung, wondering where this sudden emotional shift is coming from. "You're really sure about this, huh?"
Jisung nods, his expression more serious now. "Yeah. I just want you to be with someone who sees how fucking amazing you are. And Felix is one of the few guys I know who would treat you the way you deserve."
There's something about the way he says it that makes your chest tighten. Jisung has always been protective of you, sometimes to the point of being overbearing, but it comes from a place of genuine care. You know he just wants the best for you.
"Okay," you say quietly, more to reassure him than anything else. "If you're that sure, I'll give it a shot."
Jisung breaks into a grin again, clearly relieved. "Good. Trust me, you won't regret it."
What neither of you knows is that Minho is standing just outside the door, his jaw clenched, fists curled at his sides. He's heard every word of the conversation, and it's taking everything in him to not burst into the room right now.
Minho knows exactly what Jisung is doing. He's pushing Felix toward you because he doesn't trust Minho. And it pisses him off more than he can even articulate. Jisung thinks Minho is going to break your heart, that he's just some player who doesn't care. But Jisung has no idea how hard Minho's fallen for you, how much he's been holding back because he's been waiting for the right moment to tell you.
And now, hearing Jisung practically set you up with Felix? It's infuriating.
Minho grits his teeth, leaning against the wall as he listens to your conversation. He could go in there, stop this whole thing, and tell you how he really feels. But he knows Jisung won't make that easy. Jisung will fight him every step of the way because he doesn't think Minho is good enough for you.
But Jisung is wrong. Minho knows he is.
He'll prove it. One way or another.
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The restaurant is buzzing with the soft hum of conversations and the clinking of cutlery. You and Felix walk through the dimly lit space, a hostess guiding you to a table near the window. The atmosphere is intimate, maybe a little too intimate. The soft glow of the candles on the table reflects off the wine glasses, making the whole thing feel like the date Jisung had envisioned.
Except, it's not.
You tug at the edge of your black mid-thigh blazer dress, adjusting it slightly as you sit down, your thigh-high stiletto boots brushing against the leg of the chair. The sapphire-encrusted hairpin in your hair catches the light, just like the sapphire necklace resting against your collarbone.
Your grandmother's heirlooms feel like a protective layer tonight, a way to steady your nerves even though Felix has never been the type to make you feel anxious.
Felix slides into the seat across from you, and for a second, you take in his outfit: black slacks and a half-buttoned white shirt, his hands adorned with chunky silver rings. He looks good. And that, combined with the fact that you're both dressed like you're on the cover of a fashion magazine, only adds to the absurdity of the situation.
"Okay," Felix starts, his eyebrows raising as he takes a long look around the room. "This is fucking weird, right?"
You breathe out a laugh, feeling the tension melt slightly. "So fucking weird. What the fuck was Jisung thinking?"
Felix leans back, shaking his head. "I honestly don't know. He cornered me, said something about how I think you're beautiful, and then put two and two together and somehow got ten."
"He's been pushing this since last night. Something about how we'd be 'perfect' together. I guess he thought your opinion on my looks was enough for a love story."
Felix laughs, and the sound is warm and genuine. "Well, to be fair, I do think you're beautiful. I have eyes, don't I? But that doesn't mean I've been harbouring some secret crush on you."
"Thank God," you sigh, leaning back in your chair with relief. "So we can just treat this like a regular friends' dinner?"
Felix raises his glass of wine, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "To a friends' dinner."
You clink glasses, the soft ting sounding like an agreement between the two of you. Already, the night feels lighter. The weirdness of it all slowly dissipates as you both sip your wine and settle into familiar conversation.
"So," you say, gesturing around the restaurant, "if this is supposed to be a 'friends' dinner,' let's make the most of it. What's new with you? Still managing to ace all your classes while simultaneously being everyone's favourite stress baker?"
Felix grins, his eyes sparkling as he leans forward. "Of course. My cookies are keeping half the campus sane, honestly. The other half's still in denial."
You laugh, knowing all too well how Felix's baked goods have gained a sort of cult following around school. He's practically famous for them.
"Speaking of which," he continues, "I made those macadamia nut ones you like the other day. Jisung stole half of them before I could bring them over."
"Typical," you say, shaking your head. "I'll have to fight him for the rest. You know how much I love those."
The conversation flows naturally as you both dive into your usual back-and-forth. The wine loosens you up a bit, and soon enough, you're laughing loudly with Felix, completely relaxed. It feels like any other hangout, the weird pretence of a date"falling away.
The waiter comes by to check on you, refilling your wine glasses as you both finish the first bottle. Felix eyes the bottle in the waiter's hands, then glances at you, a mischievous smile spreading across his face.
"You know," he says, his voice lowering as if he's letting you in on some grand secret. "We could get a free bottle of wine right now."
You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. "Go on."
Felix grins like he's thought of the most brilliant plan. He slides one of the many rings off his fingers, stands up, and before you can even process what's happening, he gets down on one knee in front of you.
The people at nearby tables glance over, curious, but Felix ignores them, focusing entirely on you.
"Y/N," he says in an exaggeratedly serious voice, holding up the ring like it's some priceless artefact. "Will you make me the happiest guy in this restaurant and marry me?"
The wine has quelled any anxiety you might've felt earlier, so instead of feeling awkward, you decide to play along.
"Yes!" you exclaim dramatically, sticking out your hand for him to slide the ring onto your finger. "Of course, I'll marry you!"
The tables around you erupt into applause, people clapping and cheering as if they just witnessed the most romantic proposal of the century. Felix stands up, a smirk on his face, and the waiter, looking entirely caught up in the moment, hurries over to offer congratulations.
"Congrats!" the waiter says, looking genuinely excited. "Let me get you two a complimentary bottle of our finest wine to celebrate."
You barely hold back your laughter as the waiter rushes off. Felix slides back into his chair, grinning from ear to ear.
"I can't believe that worked," you say, shaking your head in disbelief.
Felix raises his glass again, this time with a proud look in his eyes. "To my fake fiancée and free wine."
You clink glasses again, still giggling as you drink to your ridiculous plan. Just when you think it couldn't get better, a couple from a nearby table leans over and says, "We've got your bill tonight. Congrats again!"
You and Felix exchange wide-eyed looks, barely managing to hold back more laughter. "Holy shit," Felix mutters under his breath. "We just hit the jackpot."
As you drink your newly acquired bottle of wine, the night only becomes more fun. The awkwardness that had hung over the evening at the start is long gone, replaced by pure enjoyment. You and Felix settle back into conversation as the restaurant continues to buzz around you.
"So," Felix says after a sip of wine, his gaze drifting toward the sapphire and diamond necklace around your neck. "Tell me about the heirlooms. That necklace and the pin. They've gotta be worth something, right?"
You nod, tracing the edge of your necklace absentmindedly. "Yeah, they are. My grandmother left them to me. She had a lot of money."
Felix leans forward, intrigued. "I had no idea. So, like, how much are we talking?"
You smile, not bothered by his curiosity. Felix has always been straightforward, and you appreciate that about him. "Well, she was a CEO. She raised me after my parents died, so I inherited pretty much everything. I've got shares in her company and in the other businesses she invested in."
Felix's eyes widen slightly. "So you're rich."
You shrug, sipping your wine. "I guess I am."
"Damn," Felix says, leaning back in his chair with a grin. "Jisung never mentioned that part."
You laugh softly. "Yeah, I don't go around announcing it. I'm not really the 'rich heiress' type, you know?"
Felix nods, understanding. "Makes sense. Still, that's kind of badass. You've got all this wealth and power, and you're still just you."
You smile, feeling the sincerity behind his words. "Thanks, Lix."
The conversation drifts after that, touching on light topics as you both finish the second bottle of wine. The restaurant is still bustling, but it feels like you and Felix are in your own little world, enjoying the absurdity of the evening.
After a while, Felix leans back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head. "You know why Jisung set us up, right?"
You raise an eyebrow, your mind still pleasantly buzzed from the wine. "Because he's an idiot who can't read people at all?"
Felix snorts, shaking his head. "Besides that."
You tilt your head, genuinely curious. "No, enlighten me."
Felix grins, but there's something knowing in his eyes. "Well, I'll let you figure that out for yourself. I won't ruin the fun."
You roll your eyes, playfully smacking his arm. "You're such a dick."
Felix just laughs, finishing the last of his wine before setting the glass down with a satisfied sigh. "Hey, I'm just saying, Jisung had his reasons. You'll figure it out eventually."
You shake your head, still smiling as you lean back in your chair. The night has been a whirlwind of laughter, fake proposals, and more wine than you expected. Whatever Jisung's reasons were, you're just glad the evening turned into something fun instead of the awkward mess it could have been.
Felix pulls the car up to your apartment complex, the quiet hum of the engine filling the comfortable silence between the two of you. . It had turned into a night you didn't expect, but somehow, it felt exactly right.
Felix glances at you as you unbuckle your seatbelt. "Well, that was fun."
You chuckle, shaking your head as you gather your bag and open the door. "So much fun. I don't know how we pulled that off."
Felix's grin is playful, his silver rings catching the dim light. "What can I say? We make a pretty good fake couple."
You laugh again, stepping out of the car and leaning back in through the open window. "Goodnight, Felix. Thanks for the... whatever that was."
Felix smirks. "It was an unforgettable friends' dinner. You know, one for the history books."
"Goodnight, Lix," you repeat, still grinning as you wave.
"Goodnight, Y/N," he replies, watching you head toward the building.
As you walk to your apartment, you feel lighter than you have in days. Felix always has that effect on you. He makes everything seem easier, less complicated. The night could've been weird and awkward, but it turned out to be exactly what you needed: fun, simple, and completely free of stress. Jisung's matchmaking might've been misguided, but at least it had resulted in a memorable night with one of your closest friends.
You unlock your door and step inside, immediately kicking off your boots with a sigh of relief. Your apartment is quiet, a stark contrast to the lively restaurant you just left. It feels good to be home, and you head straight to the kitchen, still feeling the buzz of the wine as you pour yourself another glass. The cool liquid slides down your throat, grounding you after such a surreal evening.
As you set the glass down on the counter, you reach up to take off your sapphire necklace, your fingers brushing against the cool metal. You remove the matching hairpin, carefully setting it down next to the necklace before turning your attention to the silver rings on your fingers. You begin slipping them off one by one, the rhythmic movement soothing after such an eventful night.
But then, there's a knock at your door.
You pause, glancing toward the front door with a furrowed brow. It's late, and you're not expecting anyone. Curiosity piqued, you set down the last of your rings and walk toward the door, glass of wine still in hand.
When you open it, you're greeted by a sight you weren't expecting: Minho, standing in the hallway, his expression unreadable, but there's something intense in his eyes.
"Minho?" you say, your voice a little surprised. "What are you doing here?"
He looks at you, his eyes scanning your face, then down to your lips. "Did you kiss him?"
You blink, confused. "What?"
Minho takes a step closer, his voice more insistent. "Did you kiss Felix?"
The question catches you off guard. You feel your heart skip a beat, and suddenly, you're not sure what to say. "No," you answer honestly, "I didn't kiss Felix."
Minho exhales sharply, like he's been holding his breath. "Okay... okay, good."
You raise an eyebrow, still confused by his sudden appearance and his line of questioning. "Minho, what the hell is this about? Why are you asking me about Felix?"
Minho meets your eyes, his gaze unwavering. "Because I still have a chance."
"A chance?" you repeat, feeling even more lost in this conversation. "What are you talking about?"
Minho runs a hand through his hair, clearly agitated, but not at you—more like at the situation. His voice softens when he speaks again, though there's still that intensity behind it. "I lied."
You tilt your head, frowning slightly. "What do you mean, you lied?"
Minho lets out a frustrated breath, looking almost embarrassed for a moment. "About your article. I said I didn't read it, remember? When we were in the kitchen last night, after the awards thing? I told you I didn't get around to reading it."
You nod slowly, still not sure where this is going. "Yeah...?"
"I lied," Minho says, meeting your gaze again. "I read it the second it was published. I've read it more than once, actually. Like an embarrassing amount of times. I said I hadn't read it because I saw how stressed you were about everything, and we were alone, and I knew if I asked you about it, you'd light up. And I wanted to be the one responsible for that."
You stare at him, the weight of his confession sinking in slowly. Minho, always so cocky and teasing, is suddenly standing in front of you, admitting that he'd lied just to see you happy. The realization hits you harder than you expected.
For a moment, you're at a loss for words. "Minho..."
He takes a step forward, closing the space between you, and his voice is quieter now. "Can I come in?"
You nod, stepping aside to let him in. Minho walks into your apartment, the atmosphere between you shifting. He turns to face you, his expression serious, more vulnerable than you've ever seen him.
"I like you," he says, his voice steady. "Like, I really like you. And Jisung knows that. He hates it because he thinks I'm going to break your heart, but I'm not. I swear, I wouldn't do that."
You feel your pulse quicken at his words, your mind racing to catch up. "Minho, I..."
He holds up a hand, cutting you off gently. "You look so fucking beautiful right now, and it's really distracting me. So I'm going to kiss you, if that's okay."
Your breath catches in your throat, but the answer comes easily. "Yeah, that's okay."
Minho doesn't waste any more time. He steps forward, closing the distance between you, his hands gently cupping your face. His lips meet yours in a kiss that's soft at first, tentative, as if he's waiting for some kind of permission. But then you kiss him back, your arms wrapping around his neck, and the kiss deepens.
Minho's hands slide down to your waist, pulling you closer until there's no space left between your bodies. The kiss is slow but intense, each movement deliberate, like he's savouring the moment. You can feel the heat radiating off him, his grip tightening slightly as his hands roam over your back.
You break the kiss for just a second, gasping for air, but Minho doesn't let you go far. His forehead rests against yours, his breath warm against your lips as he speaks.
Minho's forehead rests gently against yours, and the air between you is thick with tension. Your heart is racing, every nerve on edge, and just when you think the silence will swallow the moment, you feel a giggle bubbling up from your chest.
It's ridiculous, the whole situation. The intensity of the kiss, the way Minho's hands feel so warm and grounding on your waist. You pull back just slightly, enough to catch your breath and give him a mischievous look.
"Oh, by the way," you say, trying to keep a straight face, "Felix and I got engaged."
Minho blinks, clearly caught off guard. "Huh?" He stares at you, confusion clear in his eyes, as if trying to piece together whether you're serious or not.
You can't help the laugh that escapes. "Yep," you nod, keeping up the act. "I'm set to marry Felix. So, congratulations, we're now having an affair."
Minho's brow furrows for a second, and then realization dawns on his face. A grin spreads across his lips. "Oh, so that's how it is, huh? I'm the dirty little secret now?"
You smirk, feeling a little more daring. "Exactly. I'm cheating on my fiancé with you. How scandalous."
He hums, his thumb tracing slow circles on your hip. "I don't mind being the side guy. Adds some spice, don't you think?" He leans in again, his breath ghosting over your lips. "Just keep this between us, yeah? Don't want Felix to find out."
The playfulness between you two eases the tension, and you laugh softly, completely forgetting about everything else for a moment. You're about to respond when, out of nowhere, the door to your apartment swings open with a loud bang, making you both freeze.
"No! This is exactly what I was trying to prevent!"
You and Minho quickly step apart, your heart racing for a different reason now. Jisung looks at the two of you with wide, panicked eyes, like he's just walked into his worst nightmare. His hands fly up in the air as he groans dramatically, pacing a few steps.
"This is exactly why I set you up with Felix!" Jisung exclaims, pointing an accusing finger at Minho. "I knew this would happen! And now he's got his STD-riddled claws into you!"
Minho's jaw drops in disbelief. "Okay, hold the fuck up," he says, hands raised in defence. "I have no STDs, and I'd really like to clear that up before we go any further with this conversation."
You take a slow, deep breath, pressing your lips together to hold back a laugh. Jisung, however, is far from amused. He looks like he's about to have a full-on breakdown as he turns to you, his face full of concern.
"Listen to me," he says, his voice urgent. "He's going to break your heart! Minho doesn't do relationships—he just flirts and messes around. He's like a... a... heartbreaker! A professional one!"
Minho rolls his eyes, stepping closer to Jisung, clearly fed up. "Oh, for fuck's sake, Jisung, I've liked her this entire time, and you know that!" His voice is sharp, filled with frustration. "You're the one who set her up with Felix, knowing damn well how I feel!"
Jisung glares right back, crossing his arms over his chest like a protective barrier. "I did it because I know you, Minho. You're all charming and smooth when you want something, but then you bail as soon as it gets serious. I'm not letting that happen to Y/N."
You shake your head, walking over to grab your glass of wine from the counter. The tension between Minho and Jisung has been building, and now it's finally spilling over. You sip your wine, deciding that the best course of action is to stay out of it and let them bicker it out.
Minho takes a deep breath, his frustration visible. "You think I'm going to hurt her? Jisung, you've got no idea how hard it's been trying to be patient with this shit. You set her up with Felix like some overprotective dad, and now you walk in here acting like you're the fucking saviour of the day."
Jisung's face turns redder, and he steps forward, eyes blazing. "You're my best friend, and so is Y/N! I've seen what you do to girls, and I'm not letting you do that to her."
Minho doesn't back down, stepping forward as well, the space between them shrinking fast. "You think I'm like that with her? Do you even know how long I've been waiting to make a move, only for you to play matchmaker with Felix?"
Jisung's mouth opens and closes like a fish, clearly lost for words.
You, on the other hand, take another slow sip of your wine. The back-and-forth between them is almost entertaining. They're like two kids fighting over a toy, except this time, you're the toy, which is both ridiculous and hilarious.
"Look," Minho says, his voice a little calmer now but still firm, "I'm not playing around with her. I've been serious about this, and the fact that you think I'm just going to fuck her over pisses me off."
Jisung throws his hands in the air again, clearly exasperated. "Of course I think that! You're Minho! You don't do relationships!"
Minho rubs a hand over his face, clearly trying to stay calm. "God, you're an idiot sometimes. This isn't just some hookup, okay?"
Jisung doesn't seem convinced. "You expect me to believe that? After everything?"
At this point, you've had enough. You walk over to Jisung, wine glass still in hand, and without a word, you pour the rest of the wine into his mouth. He tries to protest, but you give him no choice. He swallows the wine, sputtering slightly as he looks at you in surprise.
"Go sit in the living room," you say, pushing him toward the door with more force than you probably should. "We'll deal with you later."
Jisung stumbles into the living room, still flustered and clearly not done with the argument. But before he can say anything else, you shut the door and lock it, effectively trapping him inside.
Minho watches the whole thing unfold with an amused smile. "You know it's going to take him about an hour to realize he can unlock that from the inside, right?"
You shrug, turning back to face him with a grin. "That gives us about an hour of peace."
Minho's smirk widens as he steps forward, his hands sliding around your waist again. He pulls you close, and the heat between you reignites instantly. "There's a lot I can do in an hour," he murmurs against your lips, his breath hot and teasing.
Your heart skips a beat as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer. "Oh yeah?" you whisper, your voice daring.
He kisses you again, this time with more urgency, and you melt into it, your body pressing against his. His hands slide down to your thighs, and in one swift motion, he lifts you off the ground. You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, holding onto him as he carries you through the apartment.
"Bedroom?" he asks between kisses, his voice low and filled with need.
"Second door," you manage to say, your voice breathless.
Minho kicks open the door to your bedroom, not bothering to turn on the lights as he carries you inside. The door swings shut behind you with a satisfying thud, and with that, the world outside ceases to exist.
All that matters now is the heat between you, the feel of his hands on your skin, and the promise of what's to come in the next hour.
Minho kicks the bedroom door shut behind him, and in that moment, you know that an hour is more than enough time.
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warping-realities · 22 days ago
Text
Alpha Scent 
Hank wasn’t exactly thrilled. When his uncle said there was a job opening for the young guy fresh off the farm in the big city, Hank figured it’d be in the accounting or admin side of his company. What he never expected was that his uncle would have him start working as just another grunt laborer. Like he was one of the many immigrants he hired every day for that kind of job, and not his sister’s eldest son. His dad had warned him that his brother-in-law was one of those liberals who’d rather hire foreigners than a true-blood American. Even though Hank was from a small city in Mississippi and wasn’t exactly allergic to hard work, he thought this would be his shot to start a career in the business world, maybe even inherit his uncle’s company someday.
The only reason he hadn’t packed up and headed back to the small town near Columbus was because he was still holding out hope. His uncle had been cold ever since he showed up, looking at Hank like he was some unwanted guest. Hank only found out why later: his mom’s brother was a big-time fag. That should’ve been enough for Hank to turn tail and head back home. He was freaked out just thinking about what his father would say if he knew Hank was living under the same roof as a sodomite. But he hadn’t driven all the way out to this liberal, left-wing pit that was California to quit that easily. He had threatened to spill the beans about his uncle to his mom, the pious and super-religious Hank grandma. Even though his uncle was living in sin in Los Angeles, he had the old lady fooled, pretending to be a righteous man. At first, his uncle was shocked, then cursed Hank out, but in the end, he gave in, knowing he had no way out.
“Alright, Hank, I’m gonna give you a job you don’t deserve, but first, I need you to do one last thing for one of my most important clients in Beverly Hills: Lee Yutao.”
“Never heard of him.”
“Yeah, someone like you wouldn’t know Mr. Lee. He’s a famous perfumer, used to work for top designer brands, now runs his own niche perfume company. The man is a total recluse, barely leaves his house. He spends all his free time taking care of the gardens at his various mansions around the world.”
“Sounds pretty gay.”
“Yeah, but this is one gay guy you don’t wanna mess with, especially if you wanna keep your job.”
So there Hank was, standing in front of Lee Yutao’s massive mansion on top of Beverly Hills, wondering how someone could end up with something that big just by mixing scents. Didn’t seem fair, especially since it was some damn Chinese guy, taking what he felt should be American land. He thought that to himself, ignoring the fact that his great-grandfather had come to America just over 80 years ago, fleeing a collapsing Germany during World War II.
As he walked up to the gate, a metallic voice spoke to him through a hidden intercom.
“You’re late,” said the voice, speaking perfect English, but with a slight accent Hank couldn’t place.
“I’m here, aren’t I? You gonna let me in or what?”
“Head to the garden near the pool. Your job today is to organize the stones by the rose garden. And under no circumstances are you to touch any of the flowers.”
“Yeah, as if I need more work than I already got…” Hank muttered.
“Did you say something?”
“Just point me in the right direction,” Hank replied, as the huge gate opened and he stepped onto the property, full of himself but completely unaware he was walking right into the jaws of something way dangerous than he imagined.
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Following the metallic voice’s instructions, Hank made his way into the massive garden and got to work. He knew there were cameras hidden in the bushes, so he gave it his all, even though he was pissed. His performance here was crucial to his future plans.
By the afternoon, he was ahead of schedule, still fuming about being stuck there but careful not to touch the precious flowers. Not because he cared about what the client wanted, but because he suspected there was a limit to how much his uncle would tolerate before he snapped and spilled the beans about his lifestyle. That’s when something really weird happened. While taking a quick break, a breeze hit him, carrying a strange smell—nothing like the roses around him. It was a heavy, almost animalistic scent, something Hank had never smelled before.
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“What the hell is that?” He said out loud, dropping the shovel but getting no response. The smell wasn’t just messing with his nose—it was throwing off all his other senses. He followed the scent to a particular bush. There, among the roses, was a flower that looked no different from the rest, except it was the source of that odd odor.
“What kind of sick joke is this?” Hank asked again, but if the metallic voice heard him, it chose to ignore him. Hank figured it didn’t matter—he had a job to finish, and he was getting out of there. But for some weird reason, his body was pushing him forward. Why was he doing something he was told not to do? Why did he grab the flower and bring his face close to it? The scent hit him like a truck, intoxicating and overwhelming. He quickly pulled back, feeling dizzy, but it didn’t help. The smell was on him—inside his nose, on his skin, all over him.
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“I need to get this off me… I need to get it off…” he mumbled. That’s when the voice spoke again.
“I warned you not to touch them, but I understand. The temptation is real. If you want to get rid of my scent, follow the rose path to the pool.”
Dazed and confused, Hank didn’t even think about disobeying the voice. He staggered through the garden, now feeling like every flower was giving off that same smell, the smell that made him want to give in to pure, uncontrollable lust. It took everything he had not to stop right there and give in to his urges. After what felt like an eternity, he finally reached the pool, and without even thinking, he dove in. He thought the water would wash the smell—and the desire—away. But when he came up for air and stood, the smell was back.
“This can’t be…” Hank muttered, trying to splash water on his face, but it didn’t work. The metallic voice spoke again.
“Perfect! Full immersion guarantees the effect. Now, come to the main house. It’s time for us to have a more… in-depth conversation.”Hank, barely holding on, followed the voice’s instructions and made his way to the house.
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Every step felt like a struggle as the desire still coursed through him. The house was huge and luxurious, decorated with such a refined taste that Hank, lost in confusion couldn’t even appreciate it. Each slow step down the hall felt like a personal torture.
“You’re almost there, boy,” the voice said. “Turn right at the end of the hall and enter the master suite.”
Hank stumbled toward a massive oil painting at the end of the hall, depicting an imposing Asian man, dressed like an ancient warrior with his chest exposed. This must’ve been the guy behind all of this, Hank thought—the owner of the mansion, Lee Yutao. Inside his clouded mind, Hank tried to feel anger toward the guy. But as another wave of that strange scent hit him, all the anger was swallowed up by an overwhelming urge. He wanted to be with that man. He needed to feel him, to touch him, to have him inside him…
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Realizing what he was thinking, Hank’s last shred of self-awareness melted away, replaced by absolute terror. What the hell would he do when he met this man, who was presumably behind the big wooden door now opening in front of him?
To Hank's relief and disappointment, the gigantic room was empty. He stood in the doorway, waiting for further orders like a total doofus.
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“Come on in, take a seat on the bed, and just chill. More instructions are coming up soon.”
The bed was actually this massive setup that could’ve filled an entire room in a regular-sized house. Hank plopped down right in the middle of it, his still-wet skin soaking the silky black sheets. In front of him was a TV monitor so huge it looked like a movie screen. As his lust-fogged brain struggled to figure out what was going on, the giant screen lit up in a kaleidoscope of vibrant colors. The constant swirl of colors made whatever little conscious thought Hank had left turn into mush. As drool dripped from the corner of his mouth and his eyes rolled back, a face emerged amidst the colorful chaos.
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“Hey there, Hank. I can’t say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but the pleasure will come for both of us. But not before some… enhancements. Your uncle and I have history together, and what you tried to do to him is just unacceptable. That’s why I’m pretty comfortable with what’s about to happen. If everything goes smoothly and I have enough faith in my work to believe it’ll, we’ll have one less awful creature in the world and one more real human being.” The Asian guy with striking features could’ve been talking to the walls, Hank’s reaction was so minimal. Even though a part of him was screaming in despair in the back of his intoxicated mind, it wasn’t enough to pull him out of the stupor he was in.
“Since I was really young, I’ve been totally into all kinds of scents, mixing them up to create something unique and fresh. I traveled the world testing different fragrances and essences; my work got recognized, and fame followed. But I got so caught up in my relentless quest for the perfect scent that I pushed my personal life to the back burner, becoming more introverted and isolated. When I finally decided I’d had enough of being alone and wanted to find the right person, a long string of disappointments followed. The people I got involved with were mostly after my fame or my cash, and the few who were genuinely into me loved the public figure and not the real me. This made me shut myself off from society; it seemed like I’d never find anyone who could pull me out of my shell.
That’s when I had this idea: if I can create the perfect scent, then I can also create the perfect partner. I just needed a base to work from, and thanks to your nasty behavior towards your uncle, I got what I needed. Goodbye, Hank!”
“…impossible…” Hank managed to mumble before being hit by a wave of Yutao’s perfume and collapsing onto the comfy sheets of the giant bed, while the man’s voice recited words that his brain couldn’t consciously grasp but that worked to completely change who Hank Zimmer was.
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“…it all started during the tests for the recording of my next perfume commercial…”
Hank felt something solid beneath him, way different from the soft mattress he had just sunk into. He felt way more alert than just moments ago. Opening his eyes, he found himself in another place; there were lights aimed at him, tons of them, along with a bunch of people milling around behind them. The taste of tobacco dominated his taste buds, and he felt both more compact and heavier. He looked down and saw a muscular, tanned body that was definitely not his. What the hell is going on? he thought, but any attempt to verbalize something was blocked. Even though he was more awake, he had no control over his own body.
“Cut! Great job, Han! Awesome! I think you’re the perfect choice to be the face of Alpha Scent. But first, we need Mr. Lee’s approval. The final say is his.”
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“Of course, I’m just really grateful for the opportunity.” Hank found himself responding in a smooth, melodic voice, even a bit delicate, while getting rid of the disgusting cigarette used in the recording. “When will I find out the result?”
“Oh, Mr. Lee himself will get in touch if you’re approved. He insists.”Hank was immersed in doubts, he didn't know what was happening, but just hearing Lee Yutao's name made him tremble.
The image dissolved, and Hank once again felt the softness of a mattress beneath him. He was lying on a bed that seemed way too small for his muscular, compact body. His fingers were typing away quickly on a smartphone.
“…I can definitely show you more… but there’s gonna be a price!” He typed with his hand without even thinking about it, then moved the phone and sent a provocative pic of his powerful exposed legs.
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“Whoa, whoa, Mr. Zhang Hanqian, I thought the fact that I picked you to be the face of my masterpiece would be payment enough.” That was the response from who could only be Lee Yutao.
“I never mix business with pleasure, Mr. Lee; the price I’m asking for is different. Few have had the chance to see you in person, and to get all this here, the payment is a date.”The man sharing Hank's body tiped before sitting in the modest apartment room and sending a recorded video in front of the mirror to the man he was trying to seduce.
That was Hank's chance to see who he was sharing his consciousness with, and what he saw made him scream at the top of his lungs, even though no one could hear. Sitting in a comfy chair in front of the mirror, completely naked, was a young Asian man, whom he guessed was probably Chinese, with his knowledge about other races which was inversely proportional to the anger he felt towards immigrants. A rage that peaked in that moment, mixed with a giant despair. He was stuck in the body of a flamboyant man whore who was trying to seduce another man at that moment.
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“Okay, boy, you had my curiosity, now you have my attention. I’m in the Amazon researching the aroma of priprioca for a new fragrance, I’ll be back in California at the end of the month. Be ready; you’ll need more than a sculpted body to turn my attention into real interest.”
Once again, Hank felt everything dissolve around him, only to find himself in a totally different place. This time, he was lying on a cushioned surface, wearing nothing but swim trunks, with the summer sun shining on his body while a cool breeze partially relieved the heat of the day. He was in some kind of resort, strangely empty except for his own figure. Unlike before, now he could feel the anxiety of that other guy, Han, as if the barrier between them was getting thinner. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something he had been waiting for was about to happen in the next few moments. That’s when Hank saw scared the guy from the gigantic painting in the mansion approaching, while Han, in turn, was enjoying the sight of the figure in front of him. He wanted to meet Yutao for his art, talent, and fortune, but now he was genuinely interested in the man before him, a dude with an impressive physique, walking with the confidence of someone who had the world at his feet.
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“You got a tattoo,” Lee Yutao remarked, eyeing Han's bicep with a deep voice, but unlike what Han expected, there was a hint of insecurity in it.
“I’ve got more in hidden spots if you wanna see,” Han replied, reveling in the sight of one of the most powerful guys in the industry blushing, his confidence slipping away. That was unexpected; Lee Yutao had seemed way more assertive in their messages. But apparently, the teasing had the desired effect.
“How about we head up to my suite and you show me everything you can do… boy.” Yutao replied with more confidence, making Han smile with satisfaction while Hank was horrified at the prospect of what could happen.
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He was still worried when everything dissolved and solidified around him again.
He was out of breath, heart racing, as if he’d just been hit hard, and yet a feeling of tired pleasure washed over him to the point where he couldn’t help but smile.
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They were both Hank and Han experiencing this, and it freaked Hank out, causing his smile to fade, which didn’t go unnoticed by the person next to him.
“Han, babe, are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good.” Han replied, glancing at where Yutao was lying. “Your big cock just took my breath away.” He added, making them both laugh.
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“Man, you say stuff that throws me off. Even after all these months, no matter how confident I think am, you totally disarm me.”
“I think you need someone to keep you on your toes.”
“Maybe…” Yutao replied as the room dissolved into smoke and Hank found himself in a different place again. He was in a luxurious bathroom, maybe in that same first resort; he had no way of knowing how much time had passed. The only thing he could make out was Han, once again holding the phone, recording a video for someone. Probably Yutao. Hank felt curious about where that conversation was headed.
“Miss me, babe? When am I gonna see you? It doesn’t make sense for you to keep sending me these gifts if you’re not here with me!” Han said with a teasing look.
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Just then, a reply to the video came in. “I’ll send my private jet to pick you up right now! Talk to you in Phi Phi.” Han lit up with joy, and Hank, even reluctantly, shared the feeling as everything around him once again reshaped. What hit him first was the smell of the ocean, brought by the beach breeze while he feel the sand under his feet.
“I can’t believe you were too shy to go shirtless at the beach. What’s the point of having a hot body like that if you’re not gonna show it off?”
“I work on my body for me, Han, not to flaunt it for everyone else!”
“That doesn’t make any sense; nobody looks like that if they don’t wanna be admired!”
“Oh, I want to be admired, just not by everyone, only by the right guy!”
“Hmm, and what does it take to be the right guy, Mr. Lee?”
“I still don’t totally know, but I’d bet that you’re on the right track!”
“Can I know what I’m doing right then?”
“I can’t say for sure; I just feel like I can be myself with you…”
“Oh, it’s because I’m so disarming, huh?”
“Could be…”
“Great, then let’s disarm you a bit more!” Han said, grabbing Yutao's phone and opening Instagram.
“What are you doing, Han?”
“Babe, you can keep playing the tough guy, you can wear me out in bed, but you can’t post a single pic on Instagram? You know what you really need? Someone with initiative by your side!”
“And that would be you?”
“Isn’t that what you wanted? For me to be disarming? Well, I’m gonna be!” Han replied, sliding his sunglasses down his nose and striking a pose for a selfie.
“You look ridiculous!” Yutao said, laughing.
“Babe, when you’re as hot as we are, who cares? But it’s your call.” Han shot back, handing the phone back to the other guy. After a thoughtful pause, Yutao got into position and took his first Instagram pic, revealing his face behind the brand for the first time, next to the young model posing.
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Hank didn’t try to intervene at any point, maybe because he finally accepted that he was just a passenger in this body. But deep down, the barrier between him and Han was slowly crumbling, and he felt what the other felt, something very different from what he was used to. Han was into Yutao, sure, in a physical way, which strangely didn’t bother Hank as much anymore. But the interest was more than just physical; initially, it was about the mysterious figure of the man, the power he exuded, and his wealth—things Hank could understand in his greedy mind. However, at some point, the interest shifted to the person himself, the shy man trying to play the dominant alpha who quickly fell for Han’s tricks, who could leave him speechless with just a few words, even if he later surrendered to pleasure.
Not knowing how to deal with those contradictions, he felt reality reshape around him.
He was sitting on a comfy couch, his own hand covering his eyes. Once again, with his chest and legs bare.
“Go ahead and look, Han, babe!” It was Yutao’s voice. And both Han and Hank felt a wave of happiness hit them at the sight of the ring the other man offered.
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“Han, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted. You made me realize I don’t have to act like someone I’m not to get what I want. You push me out of my comfort zone, you challenge me with every word, you disarm me, and I love you for that and everything else. Will you marry me?”
“Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!” Han and Hank said in unison, the barrier between them finally dissolving as in a luxurious mansion bedroom, lying on a gigantic bed, Hank’s restless body underwent the transformation his mind had already accepted.
It all started with a shrinking of a few inches, bringing him down from a respectable 6'1" to a more modest 5'7", while his sun-burned white skin picked up a naturally golden hue, accentuated by hours spent tanning by the pool completely nude. His facial features became more delicate, with characteristics that would forever define him as someone of Asian descent, while his blond hair turned a raven black. Time seemed to pause for a moment as the young man let out a sleepy sigh; then the real transformation began. His chest was replaced by a pair of well-defined muscles tits ready to be sucked by his lover. Below that, a well-toned abdomen formed, with eight bricks of pure meat. As his upper body developed a V-shape, his lower body also went through significant changes; enormous muscles formed in his calves and especially in his thighs, making it impossible for him to walk without the characteristic sway that only someone with tree-trunk-thick legs learns to master. Unlike the rest of his body, his feet became more delicate and smaller, with nails as well-groomed as a rich vain woman. But the feet weren’t the only thing shrinking; the massive member that was Hank’s pride shrank down to a modest size while his butts expanded, ready for ready to be pounded by Yutao's powerful thighs while his massive cock vigorously hit Han's prostate.
As Yutao’s plan unfolded, the man himself approached the bed he shared with his husband and partner for life.
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“Where have you been, babe? I need you now!” Han said, making his voice heard for the first time in those walls, while Yutao felt the presence that had brought forth the perfect man for him, experiencing an afternoon of love that would just be the first of many to come. As Han surrendered to pleasure, so did Hank, the distinction between the two already nonexistent.
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Hours later, in the next morning, the couple took advantage of their workout session in the professional gym they had at home to snap a selfie for social media.
After spending the whole session feeling a specific aroma mixed with his partner’s scent, Yutao couldn’t help but ask.
“Are you wearing Alpha Scent while working out?”
“I’m the face of the fragrance, babe; it’s my duty to wear it on any occasion.”
“I know, but you’re well aware that the version I have at home is the real deal. If someone who isn’t one of us smells it, I don’t know what the consequences could be.”
“Afraid someone else might show up and steal me away? That’s impossible, babe; I’m completely yours. But I really do wonder what would happen in that case…”
“Don’t get any wild ideas, Han…”
“I thought you were with me precisely just because of wild cideas.”
“I’m with you because I love you. But now you reminded me of something. We need some help with the house!”
“Hey, you know I don’t mind taking care of you and our home. I love being a devoted trophy boy.”
“Babe, you’re so much more than that, and even though you gave up your modeling career for me, you’ve made us one of the biggest digital influencer couples out there. So, as much as I love tending to the garden while you cook and take care of the house, we can’t do this without some help.”
“So what do you suggest?”
“Let’s hire some people and find someone capable of managing our homes when you’re busy.”
“And who’s going to do that as well as I do?” Han asked playfully.
“Nobody, babe, nobody. But a friend of mine is gonna send his brother-in-law over in the next few days. The guy’s a complete waste of human meat, but he’s the perfect test subject for what the new version of Alpha can do. Now let’s snap that selfie already; I’m dying to enjoy our time together in the best way, fucking your ass!”
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360 notes · View notes
seongclb · 1 year ago
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— enhypen reaction to you hugging a plush to sleep !
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bf!enha x reader, established relationship au, fluff & no warnings :)
another reaction because they’re easy to write and i don’t wanna be completely ia also soz these get shorter and more repetitive
♫ un-thinkable by alicia keys
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( scenario desc ) —
when you’re invited to a sleepover with your boyfriend and his friend group, excitement washes over you since you’re aware of the numerous fun activities they get up to. as expected, the night is full of laughter and games until your boyfriend offers to cuddle with you to sleep but notices you prefer the embrace of a stuffed animal which he is not going to let happen.
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𖠗 이희승 | lee heeseung.
“y/n, you ready for bed?”
he’ll be so excited: you’re in his clothes and in his bed like this is gonna be the best nights sleep of his life
until, you open your bag and pull out an animal
at first, he doesn’t question it since he thinks you need it for comfort
but he didn’t think you needed to hold it .. like he’s there for a reason
he’s probably spooning you and realises there’s some teddy in your arms
“y/n, why is there a teddy in your arms?”
“oh, this? this is mr cuddles. he’s my sleep buddy - i’ve had him since i was eight!”
literally scoffs, “well, it’s time to get rid of him.”
tells you he’s here now and there’s no reason to be holding some stuffed toy and tries his best not the chuck the toy off the bed.
is so happy when you put it to the side and try hugging him instead
when he wakes up and sees you sleeping so well that there’s drool on the corner of your lips, he feels so accomplished
𖠗 박종성 | park jongseong.
bc this would be your first time sleeping in the same bed as you, his goal is to ensure you’re comfortable first
makes sure you pick everything to your preference
including the blanket, the pillow and which of his pyjamas you like the most
almost buries you in the blanket since he’s worried you’ll get cold and sick
it’s summer ???
later in the night, he notices you’re holding one of your plush toys
can’t sleep because he’s so bothered about you hugging this teddy
doesn’t want to wake you up so he waits until morning
“y/n, why do you sleep with a plush?”
you tell him how you’re just used to it and now you can’t sleep without it
“hmmm this won’t do at all”
now has a rule that whenever you sleep next to him, you have to hold him
also replaces your plush with one that he bought and sprays it with his perfume that you ofc have chosen from his collection
if he’s not there to hold you to sleep, then at least you can smell and think of him
𖠗 심재윤 | sim jaeyun.
wouldn’t have it at all
cuddles are like his fave thing ever
esp with you
so how DARE you decide to cuddle something else
is in the middle of laughing about it but also showing he’s so hurt
“y/n, i’m way better than that stupid plush”
“JAKE, DONT CALL HIM STUPID”
rolls his eyes and sulks
doesn’t understand why u won’t at least try
eventually he gets his way bc who can stand to see jake not smiling 24/7
has you literally locked in his arms so you can’t move
hides the plush from you
also would get you a plush and say that you can hug yours and his child to sleep
jake’s way or no way
will hug layla to sleep instead if you decide to bring your teddies again
𖠗 박성훈 | park sunghoon.
is secretly fuming
but can’t contain it in
when he sees it, he’ll immediately think the worst
“what’s that?”
you explain you need it to help you sleep
thinks about it for a while and doesn’t say anything
“hoon, you okay??” he has a pout on his lips and his brows are furrowed
“yep.”
asks about your plush, while insulting it, “where’d you get that stupid toy anyway” “how long have you had that pathetic teddy”
soon you get a bit sad and insecure about needing a teddy to help you sleep which he notices
“y/nnnn, im sorry im just annoyed that you wanna sleep with this teddy instead of me”
so you decide to cuddle to sleep
definitely kicks it off the bed with a proud smile on his face
𖠗 김선우 | kim sunoo.
offended
is literally in a mood after you say it’s your sleeping buddy
like that’s his role as your boyfriend now..
acts like you betrayed him
“don’t talk to me. you’re a snake” “SUNOO”
faces the other way to sleep
refuses to talk to you
until he feels your arms wrap around him
and then he turns around with a big smile on his face
“i knew you couldn’t resist”
makes it his mission to make sure you rely on only him to be able to sleep
says it’s basically cheating if you’re relying on another sleeping buddy
“like why am i not ur one and only sleeping buddy”
u have to make it up to him with hugs + a spa night
𖠗 양정원 | yang jungwon
wont tell you that it bothers him
but jungwon eyes
they just make it too obvious like why are they glinting and everything they’re literally just ;( like this
who wouldn’t be able to tell when he’s not showing his dimples on full display
anyway ur js like “what’s wrong”
and hes like “hmph nothing”
BUT HES SULKINGGG and although he looks so cute u js can’t have ur baby acting like this
so u wrap ur arms around him but he light pushes you off
and ur like .. woah this is new
but u realise it’s bc of this teddy
after speaking to him, jungwon declares that this teddy is his competition
now he makes this inanimate object compete with him for everything
video games, races, who can cook you better breakfast etc
there will never be an end
𖠗 西村力 | nishimura riki
he’s simply gonna hide the plush or teddy from you
and he’ll utilise his height bc hello who the hell is gonna find anything
the guy can probably hide things in the clouds and you wouldn’t know
anyway if you ever do find it
he’ll punch it
or throw it across the room
and stomp off in a puff
bc ur his baby and ur prioritising this silly teddy
this teddy is banned from sleepovers with riki
he says it takes out the fun from ur silly sleepovers
eventually you don’t need it anymore so you don’t bring it
that’s the happiest he’s ever been
2K notes · View notes
shuenkio · 8 months ago
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Revenge lesson - ⩇⩇:⩇⩇
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Paring: Heeseung X male!reader
Cw: Smut, rough sex, curse, nsfw.
Synopsis: Co-workers rival, he's mad at you and decides to teach you a lesson.
You're responsible for what you read (⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)
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{Heeseung} The Co-Worker rivals, who like to compete with each other in order to win the employee of the month title, compete so strongly that the boss was forced to include both of them on the list together.
Late at night at the company, you work overtime as per usual, even completing the paperwork for the next day. Same goes for Heeseung, who also likes to work overtime to earn his keep with the CEO. Unexpectedly, after finishing his work, he walks to your desk, his daily routine after work being to pester and annoy you. The conversation was harsh, and full of insults, today he's gone too far.
"Now i know why you don't have a girlfriend yet because you're a fucking manipulate, two face person who like take advantage of the other, with all those things of you, nobody would want to fuck with you, Mr LEE!" You fire back, standing up from your seat and shooting him a furious gaze, death glaring at him and waiting for his response.
Heeseung's face turns red as his veins are pumping, visible on his forehead. He scoffed forcefully and slammed his bag down to the ground, dropping it in an aggressive manner.
"Nobody fuck with me? Really? Ya!-if nobody will then it'd be you, now I'm gonna teach you a lesson, getting on my nerves, deserve a consequence baby" He let his tongue slide through, poking inside his mouth,With a swift motion, he unlatched his belt and lifts it off his waist. The belt slides smoothly off his body without any effort on his part, falling down to his side where it hangs limply by his leg.
"W-what are you doing!" You nervously ask, You feel your eyes go white, and your entire body starts to shiver with fear. The hell he was about to do?!!
"To fuck you of course, just like you said nobody wanna fuck with me so I'm gonna make you take this place instead" He replies seductively and looks at you like a hungry beast. His scary aura makes you more frightened and excited at the same time. You're shivering and fearful. find yourself too stunned to move, your life was about to flash before your eyes here.
He casually unzipped his pants, His red underwear peeked through the opening, hinting at his member soon to be revealed.
With a playful smirk on his face, he slowly pulled down his boxers just enough to expose a portion of his veiny hard cock, a small droplet of precum glistened at its tip. causing you to gasps.
"Tonight will decide whether we continue as enemies or as lovers, M/N" 🫦
As Heeseung noticed your hesitation, he quickly seized control of the situation. Grabbing onto your tie, he pulled you towards him with surprising strength. Before you knew it, you were standing face-to-face with him.Without warning, he spun you around so that your back was now pressed against his chest. In swift motions, he stripped away your pants and pushed you forward until you found yourself bent over the table in front of you.
The older grabbed a condom from his bag, he slid it onto his 10 inches with practiced ease. Holding your hands in one of his, he steadied your head with the other. Without any warning, he thrust his hip inside you - filling and stretching you in a single, forceful motion. The strength of his, left you speechless, but there was also an undeniable thrill in this passionate. It felt like your insides were being stretched open wider than ever before. His long 10 inches seemed to push deeper with each thrust, filling and stretching you in ways that left you breathless.
The sight of his bulging member against your stomach served as a visual reminder of the depths he was reaching within you.
"You love it don't you, my little M/N? I know it's your first time baby, which is why your ass squeezing me so tight" He leaned down close to your ear, his rhythmic thrusts continuing unabated, he whispered huskily His hot breath sent shivers down your spine, adding another layer of excitement to the already intense experience. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed throughout the room,in each powerful stroke.
As you struggled to contain your moans, the pleasure building within you, it seemed to ignite his passion even more. His pace quickened, each thrust driving him deeper inside you with an urgency that spoke of desires left unsatisfied for far too long.
"W-why it's feel so good, i w-want to stop him but i also don't want to---" you speak in your mind, lip bitting, lose yourself in the world of ecstasy.
"FUCK YESSS, ohhh nghhh that's it, you feel so DAMN good m/n" His breath came in ragged gasps, mirroring the tempo of his unstoppable assault.
Despite your best efforts to stay silent, soft groans escaped your lips, revealing how deeply this fervent encounter was affecting you. The sound of skin meeting skin echoed more loudly in the quiet, shadowy office. Thankfully, all windows were tightly sealed and cameras remained unmoving, shielding you from potential disturbances or repercussions.
Heeseung raised one of your leg onto his shoulder, still back facing him, altering his position for increased depth. His rapid thrusts persisted without pause, he has no plan to stop by anytime soon.
Your moans harmonized with his, both of you reveled in the ecstasy of the moment. Even though he was technically your rival, there was no denying that he was giving you the hottest fuck ever, and it's your first time, you're that strong to handle his aggressiveness.
His hips picked up speed, driving into you with greater force than before. The imprint of his veiny cock became more obvious against your stomach with each thrust.
His breathing turned ragged, coming out in short gasps. Meanwhile, you allowed yourself to be swept away by the sensations flooding your body, rolling your eyes to the back of your head and losing yourself in the moment.
"Hell ughh-ahh, I'm gonna fill~ your fucking inside with my fucking cum right!!"
As he felt the urge to release growing stronger, he started to fuck into you with increased speed. When the moment arrived, he filled you completely with his seed.
At the same time, you too were overcome by a wave of pleasure, until finally both of you came together in perfect synchronization, before he collapsed onto your back, still intimately connected to you.
His cock remained buried deep within you as you both struggled to catch their breath.
"*Catching his breath* This is your first lesson M/n, if you dare to insults me again, I'm sure there's many more to come"
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🗣️ please mind my English! ><
🗣️ Reblog and like is much appreciated ♥
🗣️ crd to all pics&dividers
🗣️ My first time writing a smut 🫣 if there's some awkward moment, sorry in advance ~
Ps: I'm planning to write more content like this since my last work is blowing, comment down below who you want next 🤭.
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hotjaneaustenmenpoll · 10 months ago
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Third Place Poll
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Propaganda...
Colonel Brandon (1995):
Alan Rickman has the sexiest voice. Just listen to him reading poetry to Marianne at the end to witness how hot he is.
Alan Rickman simply embodies the truth of Col. Brandon in a way that no one else every could. It's the perfect merging of actor and role. He brings the perfect combination of honor, decency, sensitivity and passion. He is the ultimate mensch.
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Brandon propaganda in which even the film's director agrees that Brandon is sexy.
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More Brandon propaganda! This photo could only be published in black and white because it would have been too powerful in color (the original color version is currently being used to provide electricity for a medium sized town in Devon. It's THAT powerful).
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The brim of the hat falling over his eye. The casual lean. The hunting rifle slung across his leg. The puppy bestie. The fact you know he could row that boat while you watch and wish you were the boat.
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From Emma Thompson's diaries which she kept while they were shooting Sense & Sensibility. Emma Thompson said vote Colonel Brandon.
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The man has just heard her sing for a minute and he’s positively awestruck!
also adding his adorable adorable smile just bc i can.
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Mr Knightley (2009):
Johnny Lee Miller as Knightley is JUST SO. I mean the way he says "if I loved you less I might be able to talk about it more" IS JUUUST. The dance scene. The tentative shy smiles. The fact you can see in his eyes the entire time " I am completely in love with this woman. She'll never love me back BUT I DO NOT CARE I'LL LOVE HER FROM A DISTANCE ANYWAY" IS JUUUUUUST
We need to appreciate Mr Knightley more for both his snark and for those soft eyes just so full of love for Emma
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GIF by dearemma
I was just going to send in the actual dance but the little panic he has when Emma says she knows his secret is just soo charming. There was some thread on twitter a few years ago about how a romcom man's most important quality is knowing how to look at a woman and JLM is just the master of it in this Emma
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I really feel like the pictures say it all. He stands there, head tilted to one side. He is listening to you. His posture is relaxed. His gaze open, frank, candid. He's not trying at all. He just is.And that's why he is Knightley.
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GIF by night-unfurls-its-splendour
Some propaganda, not just for Jonny Lee Miller, but the general interpretation of 09 Knightley. I have some excerpts here from my review of the 09 adaptation:
What I really think is great about the 2009 interpretation of Mr. Knightley is what an easy and comforting presence he is, without being apologetic when he scolds Emma. I think this is communicated especially well by how often we are actually shown Mr. Knightley taking his almost-daily walks to Hartfield, how smoothly he comes and goes, and how happy Emma is every time she sees him coming up the path (usually, just at the perfect moment when she needs something to put her back to rights.)
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Here is Emma, feeling lonely after Miss Taylor's wedding. And in the background, walking up to Hartfield--there's Knightley. He's always been there for her, and he always will be.
And also this Mr. Knightley is as understated as ever, but I wanna highlight this outfit and why I love it: This is Knightley’s first appearance in the series and it’s the perfect establishing shot that shows the viewer everything they need to know about Emma and Knightley’s relationship and how it has always been. He sort of materializes, out of focus in the background, but Emma immediately knows he’s there. And to accentuate how much Knightley is part of her home and scenery, his clothes (similar shades of pale tan, white and minty green to the wall behind him) almost camouflage him and make him seem at one with the moulding of her home.
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Additionally, Jonny Lee Miller captures Knightley’s playful qualities, and his exasperation is so endearing
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GIF by christophernolan
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GIF by sashajames
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GIF by christophernolan
I can’t be the only one tickled by this Knightley’s frustration with Emma! JLM FTW!
Jonny Lee Miller is mesmerizing in any role he inhabits. It’s 2009 Knightly all the way.
no but can you actually go vote for mr knightley he was FOUNDATIONAL for 16 year old me my favourite portrayal of my favourite austen man cannot fall at this hurdle!!!
He is my ultimate Austen Dream Man, I'm with him until the end. Honestly this adaptation is my very favorite of them all (P&P 1995 is a VERY close second) because it made me fall in love with Emma as a story? Honestly no other adaptation or indeed even my reading of the book made me love it quite as much. My crush on JLM goes back to 1995 and I do think he is one of the better actors of his generation - his range alone is just impeccable. The fact that he can go from Sick Boy to Mr. Knightley to Sherlock to Jordan Chase is really something. Of all the actors I know, his range is the most impressive. But i love how bright and sunny this adaptation is. The colors, it is as vibrant as Emma should be! The Kate Beckinsale Emma is dark and terrifying to me, not at all suitable an adaptation. I like the Paltrow Emma a lot, but it's got the same issue the 2005 P&P has for me -- it's just too short. This is tonally just right, and the casting is lovely, and JLM is just at his dashing best. His face is so expressive, he is so capable of communicating so much without saying a word. His open jealousy of Frank Churchill is delightful to watch. His face when Emma tells him his secret is out at the ball! JLM is maybe the most underrated actor of his generation and I LOVE that he has been multiple Austen heroes. I maintain that in a future adaptation of Pride & Prejudice, an older JLM would make an EXCELLENT Mr. Bennet. He would convey the right amount of grumpy but fond beautifully.
Look. Do people realize JLM hates wearing period clothing AND hates dancing? And yet in Emma he's sashaying around in pink jackets looking amazing and is THAT convincing? That's called BRILLIANT ACTING!!
A tiny bit of Mr Knightley 2009 propaganda but I love that they put in that bit from the book where he looks like he's going to kiss Emma's hand when he's saying goodbye but then he hesitates and doesn't and I just...it's such a tiny detail but conveys so much!
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GIF by myforeverworldofmovie
It’s the only Emma adaptation that really hits the romance notes well. Knightley’s crowning moment of awesome really feels like it (when he rescues Harriet from humiliation) and his subsequent dancing with Emma does make you feel a shift in their relations. Love this adaptation. - This Knightley and Emma in particular are equals. They quarrel, not because he’s telling her off, but because they can have an argument because they know each other, trust each other and care about each others opinions, and there is never a sense of domination of one over the other. This adds so much fire to the romance, and it’s so unusual for a romance of that era (or even one written today!!). - Emma is rich, clever and beautiful and as powerful as a woman of her age and situation could be at the time and she married Knightley for no other reason but because he’s her best friend and his company for the rest of her life will enrich her. - He even leaves his house to move in with her!
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GIF by elinordash
422 notes · View notes
slut4hee · 5 months ago
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MY HEART, MY MIND, AND MY BODYミ★
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{Paring: Sneaky link Heeseung x Blk Fem! Reader
{Synopsis: you know you should ignore his texts, you know you shouldn’t answer when he calls but your heart, your mind, and your body tells you otherwise.
{Genre: smut, fwb relationship, Heeseung is toxic asf, reader is in love with him but he wants to keep their relationship strictly just fucking, good dick game Heeseung.🤭
{Warnings: oral (f receiving) , squirting, Heeseung is kinda a jerk to reader, reader cries, Heeseung manipulates reader by giving her some bomb ass head.
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You know you should have been blocked him, ignored his text and moved on with your life because you know you deserve better but it’s not easy when you’re dealing with someone like Lee Heeseung.
You throw your phone on your bed when you read the texts he sent you, the same exact messages he sends you every weekend that you’re starting to grow tired of.
Mr Big Red Flag🙄🚩: You up?
Mr Big Red Flag🙄🚩: Mind if I slide over? I’m so hard right now
Mr Big Red Flag🙄🚩: you ignoring me or sum I can see that you were active 3 mins ago 🤨
You: What is it Hee? I’m not in the mood right now😐
Mr Big Red Flag🙄🚩: Damn baby what’s all the attitude for? I ain’t did nothing wrong to you so chill out🤷‍♂️
You: CHILL OUT? Stg get tf off my phone with that shit, you know exactly why I’m acting out this way😒
“Is he fucking for real right now” you scoff loudly as you turn your phone on dnd for the night and lock it. You get up to go take you a nice warm shower to clear your head and rinse off the shitty day you had. After showering and doing your night routine you decided to grab a snack and binge watch twilight for the 100th time. As you’re laying on your couch watching your movie you hear a knock on your door and it startles you.
“Who the fuck is knocking at my door this late” you question yourself as you hop off the couch to see who has the audacity to disturb your peace, you look out the peephole and you’re met with none other than Heeseung himself standing outside your door. You scoff in annoyance wondering why he decided to show up to your apartment without telling you.
“Y/n c’mon baby, open up the door I know you’re in there your car is parked outside” he waves at your ring camera,
“Heeseung why are you here?”Just do me a favor and go back to your place because I’m not letting you in mines” you roll your eyes walking away from the front door.
You grow frustrated when Heeseung continues to knock at your door, you hurry up and run to open the door when he starts to yell and cause commotion and out of fear of waking your neighbors and getting a noice complaint you let him in.
“Do you seriously have to make so much noise, I have neighbors Heeseung” you glare at him wanting nothing more to punch him in his face more like sit on it, you just noticed how freaking good he looks sporting just a black hoodie and gray sweats with his hood over his head with his bangs slightly visible. Butterflies erupt in your stomach and you’re starting to forget just why you’re so angry with him but that’s just how much of an effect he has on you.
“I mean if you would have just opened the damn door when I first knocked, I wouldn’t have had to yell for you to let me in” he says sarcastically looking at you with a knowing look as he steps more into your apartment making his way towards your couch where your movie is paused and your snacks left behind. Your eyes follow him as he plops down on your couch and manspreads, you can feel yourself getting wet at the sight of him and you mentally curse at yourself “you’re supposed to be mad at him Y/n” you tell yourself.
“Why are you standing all the way over there for aren’t you gonna come sit down?” He asks you as he pops some of the popcorn from your bowl in his mouth and gestures you to come to him. Subconsciously you obey him as you make your way to the couch sitting on the other side of it creating some distance between you two.
“Why didn’t you text me back baby?” He gets up and sits next to you and facing his body towards you. You roll your eyes at him as you push him back away from you trying to keep the distance between you and him but he’s not having it.
“You gonna tell me what’s got you acting all pissy?” He asks kinda coldly and clearly annoyed by your actions but who is he to feel frustrated, he’s the reason why you’re acting this way in the first place.
“Oh nothing Heeseung, maybe I’m just tired of you only hitting me up when you want to get in my panties, you never really check up on me it’s always when you’re looking to get your dick wet” you spit angrily at him folding your arms over your chest.
“I mean that’s the only reason why I should be contacting you Y/n baby come on we been through this already, no strings attached and no catching feelings strictly sex” He moves closer to you putting his hand on your thigh caressing it gently, you almost melt into his touch getting lost in the feeling of his hands on your body when you snap back into reality and swat his hand away.
“Heeseung look, I don’t know if I can keep doing this I think we should just end things and go our separate ways” You try to say sternly but instead it comes off shaky and weak. You try to fight back the tears that’s threatening to fall but it hurts so bad, it hurts so bad you fell in love with him, it hurts so bad knowing you compromised yourself for a man that doesn’t see you no more than a booty call and you feel so disgusted with yourself.
“Baby you don’t mean that, tell me you don’t mean that” He says softy while pulling you closer to him and grabbing your hand leaving soft kisses on your knuckles. You let the tears fall even more when he does this because you know deep down he’s only trying to make you feel better because he doesn’t want you to leave him.
“Mama look, I’m so sorry I hurt your feelings and I’m really trying to be better for you but you can’t just leave me like this darling, not after all we’ve been through” he tries to reassure you as he pulls you into his lap, he looks in your eyes as he draws little circles on your back trying to calm you down.
“Do you love me Heeseung and do you care for me like you say you do or is it all fun and games for you” You look at him with a stern yet saddened look and he can’t help but feel just a little ping of guilt in his chest, he doesn’t answer your question but instead pulls you in for a passionate kiss. You know you shouldn’t be kissing him right now instead you should be kicking him out of your apartment and blocking his contact ending it for good but nope you’re falling into his trap once again.
“You know how i feel about you baby girl now just let daddy take care of you okay? Let me kiss it all better” He says pulling away from the kiss and next minute you’re being lifted in his arms as he takes you to your bedroom. He lays you down on the bed softly as he lays his body on top of yours. He goes to attack your lips once again and you feel like you could just cream from the feeling of his soft pillowy lips on yours, he sucks on your bottom lip and starts to prod his tongue for permission to enter and you let him.
“Hee please” you pull away from the kiss begging him for more, you didn’t realize it had been a week since you last fucked, since you had been ignoring him and you mentally pat yourself on the back for even being able to go that long without having him inside you but now it feels as if you are gonna die if you don’t have his cock inside you right this instant.
“Please what princess, talk to daddy tell me what you want” he groans when he feels the heat radiating off your body and his cock is straining against his jeans, he’s so damn hard he’s afraid as soon as he puts it in your tight little hole he’ll explode right then and there.
“P-Please touch me daddy I want you so bad I need to feel you hee” you whine when you feel him play with the hem of your sleep shorts, he pulls the elastic band back and let it snap back making you yelp in pain and pleasure at this point you feel your pussy soaking and begging for attention.
“Oh is that what you want darling? For daddy to touch your little pretty pussy” he hums as he leans down to start leaving kisses and gentle bites on your inner thighs, you clench around nothing and subconsciously buck up your hips when he gets closer to where you need him the most and you whine out of frustration.
“H-Heeseung please touch me, I beg please make me feel good I want you to play with my pussy FUCK” tears start to prickle in your eyes when you feel his hot breath on your clothed core, you squirm and whimper when he starts to rub your clit through your soaked panties.
“Fuck baby, you’re so wet for me all for me right nobody else?” he questions as he starts run his fingers through your wet clothed folds causing you to let out a high pitched moan.
“Yes seungie, all for you I don’t want nobody else but you this pussy is all yours always been yours” Heeseung smirks at your words and decides it’s time to stop teasing and give you what you’re begging for so he taps on your legs signaling for you to lift up from the mattress so he can slide your panties off. Once he’s got your panties off he licks a stripe of your pussy and start to suck on your clit.
“Oh Fuck Yes baby just like that, Shit your tongue feels so good baby boy” Heeseung groans at your words and the vibration of the groan sends a jolt of pleasure through your body and you start to comb your fingers through his locks gripping onto them.
“God baby this pussy taste so fucking sweet, can’t get enough of you that’s why I keep coming back to this wet little delicious pussy” Heeseung starts to suck and slurp your pussy like a starved man, you can feel the knot in your stomach threatening to come undone when you feel him tongue fucking your tight hole and swirling his tongue all inside.
“Oh my god daddy I’m gonna cum please let me cum i beg you please let me I been such a good girl” you cry out as you feel your body trembling and your legs shaking uncontrollably after Heeseung delivers a harsh suck to your clit and you come undone on his tongue squirting your juices all over his mouth and on your bedsheets.
“Fuck that was so damn hot baby, naughty little pussy squirting so much for me such a good fucking girl” he comes up to kiss you, you whimper against his lips when you taste the faint taste of your cum on his lips.
“So, do you still wanna leave me?”
A/n: This was inspired by Summer Walker’s song Body, it’s one of my favorite songs by her and for some reason I somehow came up with this idea😩 but hope you guys enjoy this one and please feel free to reblog😁💋
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ma1dita · 11 months ago
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crazy little thing
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a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader
words: 3.4k
summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where he spends all his drachmas to make you smile. Sometimes, the Apollo kids are better matchmakers than Aphrodite herself. Everyone’s tired of you two dancing around each other. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader
a/n: lil valentines day special though im working on more est. relationship fluff after this!! happy season 2 renewal babies
(posted 2/9/24 unbetaed)
“Come on, you gotta admit—it’s kinda funny!” 
Luke is met with blank stares at the camp store after he places a few drachmas onto the folding table in front of the Apollo kids. They’re not sure if he’s trying to convince them, or himself.
Because yeah, that’s the excuse he goes for, wanting to spend his savings on having them sing to a certain head counselor instead of admitting his blatantly obvious feelings, so if you ask Lee Fletcher and his half-siblings, it’s kind of pathetic.
“What do we look like, a traveling mariachi band, Castellan?” he deadpans, watching the usually confident boy scratch the back of his neck with his face red like someone who’s been sitting out in the sun for too long. 
“I’m not saying to follow her around all day or whatever, just pick a random time to sing a song and catch her off-guard,” he insists, before meeting the judgmental look of one of Lee’s younger siblings.
Lee chuckles, ruffling his sister’s hair before looking at Luke quite seriously, “She’s a good friend. You’re gonna have to pay us more than that. Special song for a special lady after all.”
The son of Hermes knows he’s gonna regret this sooner or later, but proceeds to throw the rest of his meager earnings onto the table. He has other ways of being resourceful anyway, the box of chocolates he nicked from behind the store counter feeling heavy in his jacket pocket.
“Right… she’s just a friend.”
Luke’s hands fidget at his sides as he stands there, feeling a little stupid.
Lee’s little sister scoops up the coins from the table, her raised eyebrows and light aura mirroring that of her older brother. 
“What song were you thinking?” she asks, “Gotta make sure I know it if I’m singing it to your…friend.”
The 18-year-old boy tugs at his dark curls, getting more embarrassed and wanting to retreat with every minute that passes, but he’s never been one to back down from anything–swordfights, monsters, capture the flag, but this—trying to impress you...is a whole different story somehow.
Why are feelings so damn complicated? 
It feels like being at the butt of a joke, or more accurately—at the sharp edge of a sword, and Luke never lets his fights end in a draw.
“You guys got it covered. Just…surprise me too, I guess,” he sighs, walking off without finishing his sentence. He wishes he could pray a little harder to his dad for luck, even if he’s unsure of what exactly he’s wishing for (or if his dad will even listen).
“Castellan’s hopeless. You think he knows it yet?” the girl asks her brother, to which Lee laughs.
“I don’t think she does either, even though everyone else can see right through them. The new bets are on who’s gonna break first. Chiron’s been keeping track, but don’t tell Mr. D.”
If Luke wants a show, they’ll make sure he’ll get his money’s worth—and hopefully, it’ll push you two along faster. Lee bet on you two getting together before the summer after all, and he’ll be damned if he loses to Clarisse.
Valentine’s Day might be the day of love, but for you, someone who’s single (not by choice), and heavily busy with making sure people aren’t so…enamored in public (you’ve lost count of the reports you’ve written out due to indecent behavior this morning alone)---this just feels like another Wednesday, except with more hormonal teenagers with uncontrollable urges than usual. 
Oh, the joys of being the daughter of the camp director, also known as everyone’s favorite narc.
Honestly, love can suck it. With this much love in the air, you can feel it suffocating you like a plastic bag over your head. 
That’s an uncontrollable urge. Too much?
Maybe Silena was right, you do need to open yourself up more to romantic opportunities. But if you have to watch another person swap spit and get pawed at like they’re the last dinner roll at the table…. You might commit arson and set this place ablaze.
You just didn’t understand why people had to go all out today of all days. Shouldn’t love be shown year-round? Though you were a person of theatrics and enjoy a good show, it is amazing how much grandiose displays of affection make you cringe. It felt very performative, instead of genuine, and you would know, you’re the best actress at camp. You’ve acted out stories before, knowing all of the greatest romances and tragedies by heart. And you pride yourself on being a decent teacher to the campers, but for some of them, love still translates to a bad rendition of a ballad they heard on the radio.
Nothing gets past you at this point.
But that sucks too sometimes, you know?
Multiple failed flings and a heartbreak or two weigh down on you on days like this one, as you’re stuck being a bystander to outlandish displays put on by the Aphrodite kids being put to work. Love is their domain anyway, and yours…makes you feel a little less undesirable. Each demigod has their own strengths and weaknesses, but perhaps in the name of love, some of them don’t know how to take a hint. Several forgettable prose readings, a Sparknotes version of Eros and Psyche, and too many red roses to count have you reeling from exhaustion and a bit of disgust—-and it’s only lunchtime. 
So yeah, maybe you’re a little jealous; they could call you Nemesis at this point.
The only flowers you got today were from the little kids from along the path to the strawberry orchard, and though it’s sweet—the human side of you misses affection. 
Devotion. 
To be a daughter of Dionysus meant to deal in extremes, obsession or nothing, and there are very few people who can handle that. Always being too much to handle, or uninterested as a defense mechanism. Perhaps that’s what scares admirers away. 
That, or the fact that Luke Castellan is always attached to your hip. To be honest, you’ve always preferred it that way—the both of you working as a pair always gets things done faster around camp and he brightens your mood, whether you admit it or not. 
But you two are just friends. 
Really good friends who look for each other in crowded rooms, hands constantly brushing against the other for comfort, and able to pick up where the other one leaves off. Usually he’s the first person you see in the morning, and the last person you say goodnight to. You know how he likes his coffee and he cuts your apples for you as you two sit together in your unassigned seats in the dining pavilion. You watch each other’s workshops and if one of you is missing, everyone knows to ask the other to get an answer.
Right? That’s totally normal coworker/friend behavior.
If you were ever given immortality, perhaps they’d make you the goddess of denial.
You’re sweeping up confetti from the dining hall floor after an uncoordinated excuse of a flash mob was performed for one of the Demeter kids… and not to sound like a heinous bitch, but maybe next time they should use something biodegradable… or less messy. Sighing deeply, you feel someone’s eyes on you, and when you look up, Luke’s standing there with two full plates of food.
“Take a break, Trouble. No one’s paying you overtime,” he jokes, and you roll your eyes as you put the broom aside.
“No one’s paying me at all…” you groan, before taking the plate out of his hands and knocking your head against his shoulder in thanks. He snickers as his hand brushes the small of your back, tickling your spine as he leads you to sit at a table.
“Just another holiday. You know how it is.”
“It’d be nice to have a night off though. Sometimes I regret taking up the position,” you mumble through spoonfuls of soup. He throws his large hand over your shoulder, kneading some tension from your trapezius. Head jerking along with the movements, you giggle as soup dribbles off your spoon, which makes his lips quirk into a small smile. Being around you felt so thoughtless and easy that if you told him to jump off a bridge he’d do it without question, which should be more concerning—the hold you have on him is irrevocable. Feelings are way too difficult for his teenage brain to comprehend at this stage. It’s easier to wash dishes with lava or fight off a dragon (bad example, he knows, but there’s something about you that already makes him feel like he’s losing before anything’s even happened).
Luke is someone who fights until the end, a soldier who’s always trained and so ready for anything that sometimes it makes you wonder what war he’s preparing for. Infatuation, or the scarier, four-letter word was not something he was ever briefed on.
“No, you don’t. You’re a control freak,” he says with a grin. 
Luke watches you play with the pendant on your necklace, the dragon scale he fashioned into your favorite accessory glinting in your hand. Running your fingers back and forth over the smooth surface, your other hand puts the spoon down and you place your head on his shoulder. He thinks if he had to describe the four-letter word on the tip of his tongue, he’d tell whoever’s asking about the way you kissed his healing cheek after you both left the Garden of Hesperides. More than a year later, Luke is still unable to find the right words even if the weakness has made a home in his heart with your name written all over it.
“I swear if I have to hear another person croak out a lovesong I might just drown myself in the Long Island Sound,” you scoff as his fingers trace circles onto your waist.
There’s a low strum of a guitar that reaches your ears and your forehead meets the cool surface of the table as you shut your eyes and grumble. It’s Lee and his half-siblings, beginning to walk through the hall seconds away from singing until they see Luke shaking his head and dragging his finger across his throat to please, gods, stop. The Apollo kids swivel and 180, walking out of the hall as the music stops dissonantly, rolling their eyes and dragging their feet.
“That was quick,” you say inquisitively as your head pops up from the table to see Luke looking off in the distance.
“Heh… I think they were just practicing or something…”
He then had to run off and pay them more drachmas for the inconvenience. 
Fucking hustlers.
The sun sets quickly on Camp Half-Blood since it’s mid-February, and Luke finds you trying to calm your nerves as you look at the mess of glitter and paper mache that covers the arts and crafts hall from floor to ceiling.
“I can’t believe this!” you say in disbelief as you look at Luke, and he takes the can of Redbull out of your shaking hand.  
“There’s just no fucking way everyone decided to use glitter. It’s everywhere! I’m—CONNOR, PUT THE SCISSORS DOWN!”
Luke sighs as he holds his hand out for his younger brother to give up the craft scissors, which he relinquishes with a mischievous grin. 
“Guys, go find trouble somewhere else,” Luke mutters, pushing his head away, and where Connor goes, Travis quickly follows, tossing a canister of glitter back at him and not knowing it was still open.
“Oops.” 
Immediately, the both of you are showered in iridescent particles, floating over your heads and stuck in your hair as the older Stoll brother looks at the two of you wide-eyed.
“You've already got Trouble anyway,” he says teasingly, and this asshole winks at Luke before bolting out the door.
The room is silent now, and you pinch the bridge of your nose, before speaking, “I don’t care if he’s your brother, Luke. I might just fucking kill him.” You'd say more but your eyes are shut as you try not to breathe in glitter, and then the sound of the doorknob rattling catches your attention. Luke is standing there, finally faced with a door he can’t open, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance–but the effect isn’t as menacing as it should be when he’s covered in red and pink sparkles.
“Not if I get to him first, the little bastard.”
“Just open the door,” you say panicked, running over and forcing his hands off the doorknob.
“I can’t if you won’t let me do it!” He grits, elbowing you and trying to unlock the door with both his inherited gift and brute strength.
“What kind of demigod even are you? Lockpicking is supposed to be your thing!”
“Well OBVIOUSLY, but it’s not working, now is it, Trouble?”
Luke finishes off the rest of your energy drink before throwing the can over his shoulder and he swears he can hear you cuss at him under your breath as you berate him about the mess, so he chooses to focus on busting the door down instead of looking at the glitter stuck in your eyelashes and thinking about how the idea of being stuck in a room with you makes him feel weak at the knees.
Through the window, his eyes meet the group of Apollo kids staring at the predicament you two are in (and the barricade of chairs the Stolls put in front of the door). He sighs, and Lee’s little sister flips him off as they start to walk away again, instruments in tow.
“You gonna charge him again?”
A tiny Will Solace looks at his elders for guidance as they walk along the path. As one of the youngest in the bunch, he especially idolizes anything his half-siblings do, going along with whatever they see fit.
“No, but we’re close enough to the archery range that I might just shoot them through their hearts myself. Eros and Aphrodite themselves are pretty much begging us to,” Lee grumbles.
“Why are we doing this again?” Will babbles, and his half-sister grabs his hand to help him walk faster.
“A crazy little thing called love. You’ll understand it better someday, kid.”
Thankfully, it all starts winding down after dinner. Luke finds you leaning against a tree flipping through your clipboard during the camp sing-along, so he tugs at your elbow to get your attention.
“Wanna get out of here?”
You look at him, slotting your pen behind your ear as you notice faint glitter particles still dotted along his cheeks. As your lips pull into a small smile, you say, "I still have a few things to do after this, don't you?"
"Cleared your schedule for the night," he mumbles, and whether it's the glow of the bonfire or he's actually blushing, a teasing expression crosses your face as you step closer and cross your arms at him.
"You cleared my schedule for the night. How on earth did you do that?"
Instead of a proper reply, he grabs your hand, tugging you out to the docks near the lake.
"Don't worry about it."
He's not going to tell you that he owes Chris and Annie a few favors before the end of the month to make up for the night shift they ended up taking. Instead, you both sit cross-legged at the edge of the dock, a gentle breeze brushing at your clothes and for the first time today, you're able to just exist.
"I hate Valentine's Day," you suddenly say, looking up at the night sky, and he's watching you closely as the gentle shine of the moon casts a cool glow on your face. Luke cringes at your statement, thinking he's already thrown away his shot.
"Why's that?"
"Tell me something Luke, am I unlikable? Like, is there anything wrong with me?"
He looks at you like you've told him you’re secretly a cyclops.
“The fuck? How many times do I have to tell you that everyone thinks you’re great?"
You don't even give him a chance to finish his sentence before you blurt, "I don’t want to be great, I want to be loved!" Reeling back a little, you lean back on your hands to create some distance.
 “Sorry... that was a lot, and I’m just...wanting to be noticed. It's nice to have people's attention sometimes, you know?”
You’ve got all of mine, he thinks, realizing he never stood a chance at fighting it—this four-letter feeling you give him is the first and only battle he’ll back down from, and you're the only person he’ll wholeheartedly surrender to.
In short, he’s fucked.
"I always notice you." He pulls out a dented box of chocolates from his jacket pocket, opening it up for the both of you to share, and the look of amusement on your face makes him glad that at least one thing somewhat went to plan today, even if the chocolate truffles are a bit smushed. You’re popping one into your mouth and his dark eyes follow the trail of your fingers to your mouth, feeling his heart beat a bit faster.
But then you both hear the soft strum of a guitar from near the trees, and the two of you turn to hear some of the Apollo kids singing beautifully along the coastline.
I'll be seeing you, in all the old, familiar places... That this heart of mine embraces...
You gasp, grabbing Luke’s arm to push yourself up so that the both of you can turn and face a small group of your closest Apollo friends singing to the both of you. Luke’s eyes soften further when he feels you grab his hand and squeeze, leaning against his shoulder as you listen.
“Did you do this?” you mumble, still entranced by the performance.
“Only if it makes you laugh.”
And you do, in the way that he loves—a bit crazy and too loud, and it’s perfect.
I’ll always think of you that way… I’ll find you in the morning sun….
Whether it’s fireflies or Will bouncing light off the water to look like small, glowing candles, Luke can’t tell—he’s too busy watching your lips pull into a smile so confectionery his sweet tooth starts to ache. The little kid was never good at archery like his other half-siblings, but as your eyes shimmer under the ambient lights, you think his added romantic gesture shot you straight through the heart.
“You know, sometimes I really do hate you, Luke Castellan,” you whisper, and it couldn’t be more far from the truth.
“No, you don’t.”
His eyes flicker to you again, but you’re already looking back at him.
“I don’t.”
And when the night is new, I’ll be looking at the moon… but I’ll be seeing you…
It’s quiet now, and you’re unsure of where the Apollonian ensemble disappeared to but instead of worrying about if they’ll make it back before curfew, you stand there in front of Luke with your guard down.
Getting a little closer than he expected, your noses brush before you pull the slightly crushed wildflowers from your jean pocket, the only physical reminder you’ve kept from today, and tuck them into his jacket pocket, sitting right above his heart. 
“Thank you.”
Luke doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until he feels your lips gently kiss the marred skin on his right cheek, the blemish having an uncanny resemblance to a stroke of lightning; it serves as a reminder of his weakness. The lines blur as his eyes close to savor it and he doesn’t know if weakness is your kisses or his scar—but he is vulnerable to it all the same, realizing there’s a crack in the otherwise perfect persona that he’s worked so hard on.
When his eyes open again, his Achilles’ heel has taken human form.
“This has got to be cheating,” Clarisse grumbles as she watches from the distance, hidden behind the trees.
“It’s not cheating if I’m winning. Silena’s gonna get a kick out of this,” Lee chuckles, ushering everyone back towards the cabins. It’s a bit harder to do this in the dark as they try to be quiet and not interrupt whatever will happen next between their favorite counselors.
“Well lucky for you, your gifts are cute and romantic, what am I supposed to do? They fight enough!”
“That’s what got them into this mess in the first place. Come on, curfew’s in 10. We’ll find out which of us wins the bet soon enough,” Chris mutters, pushing them along back onto the main path.
“Easy for you to say, Rodriguez, you live with Luke!”
“Would I ever lie to you, La Rue?” he says with a mischievous grin, and the Apollo kids giggle at the irony.
“My body ages,
my anger burns into a seam.
I am so annoyed by love
and still it comes.”
-Kate Baer
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