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yourlocaljonghoe · 4 months ago

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Your Gentle Hands (Please Don't Ever Let Go Of Me Again). || Kim Hongjoong. [ Part 2 ]

Part 1 here.

Summary: meeting the local outcast shouldn't have ended with you slowly falling for him. yet you did, all while knowing you could never have this man, because you were already someones else's wife. two lovers, a dress shop, and a violent man between it all. we all know how this ends, right? ... right?

Pairing: dressmaker!kim hongjoong x fem. reader

Genre: angst, fluff, suggestive

Wordcount: 22.7k

Warnings: misogyny, mentions of (domestic) violence, injuries, wounds, scars, lots of tears and trauma, allusions to sex but cuts right before the actual act

A/N: all i have to say is... thank fucking god i finally finished it. i struggled so much, and though i still love it im also so sick of this fic haha. there are so many people i want to thank for listening to my rambling, brainstorming and constantly reassuring me: @ghstzzn, @skteezcursed, @xomakara and also to @pali-writes-atiny-bit who beta read the whole thing <33 please don't forget to reblog and like! divider credits as always to @firefly-graphics!

Available here on AO3.

“When you fall in love, it is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake, and then it subsides. And when it subsides, you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots are to become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the desire to mate every second of the day. It is not lying awake at night imagining that he is kissing every part of your body. No … don’t blush. I am telling you some truths. For that is just being in love; which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over, when being in love has burned away. Doesn’t sound very exciting, does it? But it is!”

Captain Corelli’s Mandolin by Louis de Bernières

The room around you was quiet, save for the distant ticking of the old grandfather clock in the hallway. As a child, you'd hated this clock. Now, as an adult, you despised it.

Your hands rested in your lap, the delicate lace of the dress you loved so much pooling around you like the last remnants of a life that, albeit short, once felt full of promises. The world outside was moving on, the townsfolk bustling about with their daily tasks, their lives seemingly untouched by the darkness that has taken hold of your heart.

It was funny, hilarious even.

Because despite pretending not to, they all knew, bowed their heads in shame whenever you walked by.

Yet not a single soul had ever cared.

Not until a man was dead, and another one was jailed for his murder.

You leaned your forehead against the cool glass of the window, watching as the winter sun set over the distant hills, casting a golden glow on the town below. The streets were full of people rushing to finish their errands before nightfall, their faces etched with concern and urgency. None of them spared a glance in the direction of your family's old house, none of them knew the depth of your despair.

Or maybe they did. Maybe they just didn't care.

It wouldn't be the first time.

The sound of the door creaking open drew your attention, but you didn't turn to look. You knew who it was. Your mother had a way of entering a room that felt like an invasion, like an unwelcome breeze slipping through a crack in the window.

“You’re still wearing that costume,” she said, voice low and disapproving. “That man. Hongjoong. You shouldn't-”

“Shouldn't what, Mother? Mourn the only person who ever truly cared for me?”

You kept your forehead pressed against the glass, your breath fogging up a small circle. The lace of your dress felt heavy now, like a shroud. Once, you had worn it with pride. It had been a gift from Hongjoong, back when his friendship, care and love felt like a lifeline. Back when you were still able to see him, touch him, kiss him-

“Why do you still have it on?” she continued, stepping further into the room. Her footsteps were slow, deliberate. “It's time to let go of the past.”

You finally turned to face her, your eyes cold. The sight of her stirred a boiling rage within you, a fury that had been simmering for too long. She looked at you with the same passive face she always had, the face of a woman who turned away from the truths she didn't want to see.

“You let him do this to me,” you said, your voice trembling with restrained anger. “You saw the bruises. You heard the screams. And you did nothing.”

She flinched, just slightly, but quickly regained her composure, fidgeting with her hands. You two had that habit in common. “I did what I thought was best. It was a different time-”

“Different time?” you interrupted, standing up. The lace dress flowed around you, the wind making it flare up. “You watched your daughter suffer, and you did nothing. That's not the past. That's just who you are.”

Your mother’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, but you felt no pity for her. Not anymore. The betrayal was too deep, the wounds too fresh.

“E-everything's changed now,” she said softly. “He's gone. You’re free.”

“Free?!” you echoed, laughing bitterly. “Free to live in this prison of horrible memories? Free to be haunted by the faces of all the people who turned away? Free to watch the man I love be behind bars for a crime I committed?”

Silence fell between you, heavy and oppressive. The ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway seemed so, so much louder now.

“You need to let go,” she whispered, a plea hidden in her tone.

“And you need to face what you did,” you replied, your voice cold and unwavering. “Or, well, didn't do.”

With that, you turned back to the window, shutting her out once more. The sun had nearly disappeared behind the hills, casting long shadows across the town.

You wouldn't stay here much longer. You had a plan, and soon, it would be time to carry it out.

But before that, you had to see your entire family again. And tonight, while celebrating another successful harvest season was the perfect opportunity. Even though the bond you once shared was inevitably broken, they were your family, your people, whom you once loved and shared many memories with.

One last time, you wanted to look them right in the eye.

Because afterwards, you vowed to never speak to them again.

“Miyeon isn't coming today?” you asked as you and your eldest sister set the table. Unfortunately for you, you had to take off Hongjoong’s dress for real this time. To keep the peace, your mother insisted.

“She's with child, Y/N. She can't travel that far. Unlike some of us, she actually fulfills her wifely duties”, she remarked snarky, her voice cold and arrogant.

You didn't take her usual bait. “What a shame. May she and her unborn be healthy,” you whispered. You were being honest; you truly wanted that. Your middle sister was a good human, and you knew if she and her husband Gikwang wouldn't be away so much traveling the world, she would probably be the only family member you could truly lean on.

Unlike Jisoo, the eldest of you. Your relationship had always been strained, even as children. While you and Miyeon were close, Jisoo had always thought of herself as the best of the best, thus never bothering to actually spend time with you.

And when she married her wealthy husband, Juwon, her arrogance reached a whole new level. When your family's fortune went downhill and you had to marry below your status, her evil, cruel nature fully revealed itself to you.

While she was always cordial with your parents and sister, in private, you were her personal punching bag.

Your sister's voice snapped you back to the present. “Father's been asking about you,” Jisoo said, arranging the cutlery with a meticulousness that bordered on obsessiveness. “He's worried.”

“Worried?” you echoed, suppressing a bitter laugh. “Funny, he didn't seem worried at all when he handed me over to a monster.”

Jisoo’s lips pressed into a thin line. “He did what he thought was best for the family. You were meant to secure our future.”

“And look how well that turned out,” you said, the sarcasm dripping from your words. “One dead, another imprisoned, and me... here, all alone.”

For a brief moment, you could swear your sister's expression softened for a moment, a flicker of something almost like sympathy crossing her features. “Y/N...”

But you weren’t in the mood for her half-hearted attempts at empathy. “Save it, Jisoo. You’ve made your feelings clear enough over the years.”

Silence fell over the room as the two of you continued to set the table. God, in moments like these, you really needed Miyeon. Or ‘Always the peacemaker Miyeon’, as you called her. Because now, this large dining room, once a place full of warmth and laughter, felt like a mausoleum, merely filled with the ghosts and memories of happier, easier times. The ornate chandelier above - one of the rare expensive items your family kept after your father lost his job and status -, the polished wooden floors, the family portraits lining the walls - they all seemed to mock the illusion of a perfect family that had long since shattered.

The room fell into an uneasy silence afterwards. Jisoo's meticulously manicured fingers continued moving with precision, setting each fork and knife in its place, perfectly in order.

“Y/N,” Jisoo began again, her voice softer this time. “I know you’ve been through a lot. But we’re still family. We have to… find a way to move forward.”

You looked at her, really looked at her for the first time in years. Behind the cold exterior, you saw traces of the sister you once played with in the gardens, the sister that, despite never being interested in the same things as Miyeon and you, tried her best to somewhat bond with you, all for the sake of the family. Before life had driven a wedge between you. Now, all those memories felt like they belonged to another lifetime, a dream you could barely recall.

“Moving forward,” you repeated, almost to yourself. “It sounds so simple when you say it.”

“It’s not simple,” Jisoo admitted, setting down the last knife and turning to face you fully. “But it’s necessary.”

You opened your mouth to reply, but the sound of footsteps in the hallway made you pause. Your father entered the room, his once robust frame now slightly stooped with age and worry. His eyes, once so full of authority, now seemed to carry the weight of too many regrets.

He looked as miserable as you felt.

“Y/N,” he said, “It’s good to see you. You've been hiding in your room every time I come back from the fields, I thought… I thought you were ignoring me.”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak because yes, you totally were ignoring him. Your relationship with your father had always been complicated, and recent events had only made it worse.. He had been the one to arrange your marriage, to send you into the hands of the man who had caused you so much pain. Forgiveness was a luxury you couldn’t afford, not yet.

Not ever, maybe.

“Father,” you finally managed, your voice tight. “Jisoo and I were just finishing setting the table.”

He glanced at the table, then back at you, his eyes searching your face for something, anything - understanding, perhaps, or absolution. “Thank you, both of you. It means a lot to have the family together again, minus your lovely sister of course.”

Jisoo moved to stand beside him, her hand resting lightly on his arm. “Are you worried? She's in good health, father, the delivery will surely go well.”

You tried so hard not to get upset at the scene unfolding in front of you. Seeing him so worried about Miyeon stung, because when has he ever shown you this kind of emotion?

He nodded, but his expression remained troubled. “Where’s your mother?”

“In the sitting room,” you replied. “She’s... resting.”

The truth was, you had left her standing in the middle of that room after yet another argument, lost in her own guilt and sorrow. But you didn’t have the energy to explain that to your father.

“I’ll go get her,” he said, turning to leave. “Dinner will be ready soon. Jisoo, get your sons from the garden.”

As he walked away, you felt a pang of something close to pity. For all his faults, your father was still trying to hold the family together, still clinging to the hope that things could return to some semblance of normalcy. But you knew better.

Jisoo’s voice pulled you back to the present. “We should finish up. Mother won’t be happy if everything isn’t perfect.”

You nodded, moving mechanically as you placed the last of the plates on the table. The scent of roasted meat and freshly baked bread wafted in from the kitchen, mingling with the tension in the air. This dinner, this facade of normalcy, felt like a cruel joke. But for now, you played along, if only to keep the peace a little while longer.

Dinner was… a strained affair, to say the least. Your family gathered around the table, the flickering candlelight casting shadows on faces that had grown distant and unfamiliar. Your mother, seated at the head, looked as if she were holding herself together by sheer force of will. Beside her, your father’s attempts at small talk fell flat, met with monosyllabic responses and uncomfortable silences.

Jisoo, always the dutiful daughter, tried to keep the conversation going. “Father, have you heard from the merchants about the new trade routes? I read that they’re opening up opportunities in the south. It could be good for the farm, we could get more profit and such.”

Your father nodded, seizing on the topic like a lifeline. “Yes, I’ve been in contact with a few of them. They say the prospects are promising. It could be a chance to recover some of what we’ve lost.”

You listened with half an ear, your thoughts all over the place.

You wondered what Hongjoong was doing at this very moment. Was he getting enough food? Was the little prison cell cold? Was he… Was he thinking about you, just like you were thinking about him? All you could think about was the memory of his touch, his voice, once your only source of comfort, now a constant torment. He was the only person who had ever truly understood you, and now he was paying the price for your actions.

“Y/N?” your mother’s voice brought you right back to reality, “Did you hear me?”

You blinked, realizing she had been speaking to you. “I’m sorry, Mother. What did you say?”

She sighed, a sound full of frustration and sadness. “I asked if you had any plans now that... now that things have changed.”

You knew what she meant. Now that your husband was dead, now that the scandal had rocked your family to its core. “I haven’t decided yet,” you said carefully. “There’s a lot to think about.”

Your mother nodded, her eyes flickering to your father, then back to you. “Just remember, we’re here for you. No matter what.”

You wanted to believe her, but the years of neglect and indifference had built walls that were impossible to tear down. “Thank you,” you said, though the words felt hollow.

As the meal wore on, the conversation thankfully turned to more mundane matters - Jisoo’s children, Miyeon’s pregnancy, the upcoming harvest celebration in town. It was as if everyone was trying to pretend that nothing had changed, that you were still a family bound by more than just blood and obligation.

But you knew better. And as you looked around the table at the faces of your family, you couldn’t help but wonder if they felt that, slowly but surely, you were no longer a part of them.

Later on, as everyone else was lingering in the living room already, you turned around to your mother, now all alone with you in the kitchen. “Mother?” you asked.

“What is it?”

“The bread you made… can I have some more of it? It was… very good.”

For a split second, she looked you right in the eye.

“...Sure, my daughter.”

She knew something was up.

But maybe, maybe, not intervening with your plans was her way of finally apologizing to you.

The small police station was cold and dimly lit, the flickering candlelight casting eerie shadows on the stone walls. As you stepped inside, Officer Kim, one of only four officers in your town, looked up from his desk, his expression a mix of surprise and curiosity as he spotted you.

“Mrs. Y/N,” he greeted, standing up. “What brings you here at this hour?”

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. “I need to see him,” you said, your voice cold and determined. “I need to face the man who killed my husband before he is executed.”

Officer Kim’s eyes widened slightly, but after composing himself, he nodded. “Of course. Just... be careful. He’s not in the best of moods.”

You forced a tight smile. “Thank you, Officer Kim. I brought this as a token of my appreciation.” You handed him the neatly wrapped loaf of bread. “It’s from my mother. She insisted.”

He accepted the gift with a nod. “Thank you, ma’am. That’s very kind of you.”

As he led you down the short hallway to the cells, your heart pounded in your chest. The air grew colder the more you entered the building. At one point, it was so cold you felt multiple shivers run down your spine. God, Hongjoong must have frozen to death here.

You shook your head, taking another deep breath. You had to act, and act well, for your plan to work.

“There he is,” Officer Kim said, nodding toward the second cell. Hongjoong sat on the narrow cot, his head bowed, his hands clasped together. At the sound of your approach, he looked up, his eyes meeting yours instantly.

You saw the turmoil of emotions behind his eyes. Guilt, sorrow, and so much relief to finally see you again.

“Y/N,” he began, but you cut him off with a glare.

“Don’t you dare say my name,” you hissed, stepping closer to the bars. “You have no right to speak to me.”

Hongjoong’s eyes widened, but he quickly masked his emotions. “What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice steady despite the turmoil in his eyes.

“I needed to see you,” you spat, your voice dripping with venom. “I needed to look into the eyes of the man who murdered my husband.”

Officer Kim shifted uncomfortably beside you, clearly uneasy with the tension. “I’ll give you a few minutes,” he said, retreating back to his desk. “But don’t take too long.”

You waited until his footsteps faded before turning back to Hongjoong, your expression softening. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I had to make it convincing.”

Hongjoong reached through the bars, his fingers brushing against yours. “What are you doing here?” he asked again, his voice trembling. He looked unwell; skinnier than ever before, his eyes sunken in and some torn, old clothes on his shivering frame.

“I have a plan to get you out,” you said, glancing over your shoulder to ensure Officer Kim wasn’t coming back just yet. “The bread I gave him... it’s poisoned. Not enough to kill, just enough to make him sick. When he’s down, I’ll get the keys and we’ll leave. Together.”

Hongjoong’s eyes filled with a mix of admiration and worry. “You’re risking everything for me.”

“I’d risk anything for you,” you confirmed, your voice breaking. “You’re the only person who’s ever truly cared for me. I can’t lose you.”

Before he could respond, you heard a muffled groan from the direction of the desk. It seemed as if officer Kim was already feeling the effects of the poison, his footsteps stumbling as he tried to return.

“Now,” you whispered urgently. “We have to go now.”

You hurried back to the entrance of the cells, finding Officer Kim slumped over his desk, groaning in pain. He looked up at you, confusion and betrayal clearly visible in his eyes.

“Mrs. Y/N... what...”

“I’m so, so sorry,” you said softly, reaching for the keys on his belt. “I had to.”

You returned to Hongjoong’s cell, unlocking the door with trembling hands. The door swung open with a creak, and he stepped out, his hand immediately finding yours.

“Let’s go,” you said, pulling him toward the back exit. “We don’t have much time.”

“Wait,” he said, and halted his steps. Before you could fully turn around and ask what's wrong, he was all over you.

His arms wrapped around you in a fierce embrace, pulling you close as if he were afraid you might disappear. You could feel his heartbeat, fast and erratic, echoing your own.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he murmured into your hair, his voice choked with emotion. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

You held onto him just as tightly, savoring the warmth and solidity of his body against yours. “We don’t have much time,” you whispered, even though you wanted nothing more than to stay in his arms forever. “We have to go.”

Hongjoong nodded, pulling back slightly but keeping a firm grip on your hand. Together, you made your way out, your hearts pounding with a mix of fear and exhilaration. The night was cold and still, the moon casting a pale light over the deserted streets..

“We’ll head to the forest,” you said, squeezing Hongjoong’s hand. “I hid a few resources for us by the tree where we first met. Along with… along with some evidence. Against my former husband.”

“You want… you want to prove my innocence?”

You looked at him, and nodded. “You are innocent after all. And… and I am too.”

Hongjoong’s grip tightened on your hand as the two of you made your way through the dark, narrow streets. “I have someone who can help us,” he whispered urgently. “Someone… powerful.”

You glanced at him. “Who?”

“I can't tell you yet. But trust me, she can definitely help us.”

She?

You nodded, but your mind raced. “...Alright, let’s get to the tree first. We need those resources.”

The two of you moved down the all too familiar path. The town was quiet, the only sound the occasional bark of a distant dog or the rustle of leaves in the wind. Beside you, Hongjoong wasn't as quick as he'd usually be; the weeks of solitary confinement, barely enough food and cold temperatures were clearly evident, yet he did not once fall behind. You reached the tree where you and Hongjoong had first met, a towering oak tree.

The place where it all started.

“There,” you whispered, pointing to a hollow at the base of the tree. Hongjoong knelt down, reaching into the hollow and pulling out a small bag. He opened it, revealing the few precious items you had hidden: food, water, a change of clothes, and most importantly, the evidence that could clear Hongjoong’s name.

“These letters,” you said, pulling out a bundle of crumpled papers. “They’re from my husband. Threatening me, detailing his abuse and plans to ruin our family if I didn’t comply. They’ll prove what kind of man he really was.”

Hongjoong nodded, his eyes hardening. “We’ll make sure everyone knows the truth. But first, we need to get out of here.”

“Don't you want to rest?” you asked, clearly worried about his current state.

He just took your hand and placed a chaste kiss on it. “Later. I have to make sure you're safe first.”

“And you, too,” you added.

“And me too,” he repeated.

So, the two of you set off again, moving through the shadows, your hearts pounding in unison. As you reached the main street, you were determined to make it as far as possible, as quickly as possible. But as you rounded a corner, you came to a sudden halt.

A carriage awaited you, its dark silhouette looming in the moonlight. And standing beside it, his expression grim, was your father.

“Father,” you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and anger. “What are you doing here?”

He stepped forward, his eyes locked on yours. “I… had a feeling you’d try to run,” he said quietly. “And I couldn’t let you do it alone.”

You stared at him, confusion swirling in your mind. “What do you mean?”

He sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I’ve made many mistakes, Y/N. So, so many mistakes. But letting you suffer in silence was the worst of all. I’m not here to stop you. I’m here to help you. Even if it means I'll never see you again.”

Hongjoong stepped protectively in front of you, his eyes narrowed. “Why should we trust you? You never protected her before, why now?”

Your father met his gaze steadily. “Because I love my daughter.”

“You're a liar,” you whispered, hot, angry tears threatening to escape your eyes.

He fiercely shook his head. “I'm a bad person, Y/N. I do not want to earn my forgiveness with this. But I'm not a liar. Never that. Take this carriage and go, wherever you two want to.”

You looked at Hongjoong, then back at your father. “And what about you?”

He shook his head. “I’ll stay behind and livel with the consequences. It’s the least I can do.”

Tears filled your eyes as you stepped forward, embracing your father tightly. It was the first hug you shared in a long, long time, and also the last one. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice breaking.

He held you close for a moment, then gently pushed you toward the carriage. “Go. Be safe. And don’t look back.”

You and Hongjoong climbed into the carriage, the soft leather seats a stark contrast to the cold, hard ground you had just left. As the carriage began to move, you looked out the window, watching your father’s figure grow smaller and smaller until it fully disappeared into the night.

The carriage rattled along the narrow, winding road, the wheels clattering over the uneven stones. The night was cold, the air crisp with the promise of frost. You wrapped a blanket around yourself and Hongjoong, sharing the warmth as best you could. The lantern hanging from the carriage’s front swayed with each bump, casting erratic shadows that danced across the landscape.

The path ahead was long and treacherous, leading through dense forests and over rocky hills. Every so often, the carriage would hit a particularly deep rut, jolting you both almost freaking the horse out numerous times.

Luckily for you, Hongjoong was some kind of animal whisperer and managed to calm the horse pretty quickly each time.

As the hours passed, the moon climbed higher in the sky, its pale light filtering through the bare branches of the trees. The forest around you was alive with nocturnal sounds - the hoot of an owl, the rustle of leaves, the distant cry of a fox. You kept a wary eye on the shadows, aware that danger could lurk in the darkness.

Dawn was beginning to break when the carriage crested a hill, revealing a panoramic view of the valley below. The first light of day painted the landscape in soft hues of pink and gold, the rolling hills stretching out like a patchwork quilt. It was a moment of fleeting beauty, a reminder of the world beyond your troubles.

“It's so pretty here,” you whispered. Hongjoong hummed in return, his gaze slowly becoming more and more unfocused.

He was tired, and in desperate need for some rest.

“Let me drive for a while,” you said softly, touching Hongjoong's arm. “You need to rest.”

Hongjoong shook his head, though his exhaustion was evident. “I’ll rest later. We need to put as much distance between us and the town as possible.”

“Please,” you insisted, your voice gentle but firm. “You’re no good to me if you collapse from exhaustion. Let me take over until we find an inn.”

He hesitated, then finally nodded, knowing you were right. The carriage came to a halt, and you swapped places. As you took the reins, Hongjoong settled into the seat, wrapping the blanket tightly around himself. His eyes closed almost immediately, the tension in his body easing as he finally allowed himself to rest a little.

You guided the carriage along the winding road, the rhythm of the horse’s hooves a steady, comforting beat. The landscape around you began to change as the sun climbed higher, the dense forest giving way to open fields and distant mountains.

Hours passed, and you kept a vigilant eye on the road ahead. Occasionally, you would glance back at Hongjoong, who slept fitfully, his brow furrowed even in rest. The evidence you had gathered against your husband lay safely tucked away, a lifeline that could clear Hongjoong’s name and secure your future together.

As the sun began its descent, casting long shadows across the fields, you spotted a small village nestled at the base of the mountains. It was far enough from your town that you felt safe enough to stop for a while. The village appeared peaceful and quiet, only a few people out on the street at this hour.

You gently shook Hongjoong awake as the carriage rolled to a stop at the edge of the village. He stirred, blinking groggily. “Where are we?”

“A village,” you replied, helping him down from the carriage. “We can rest here for the night.”

He nodded, too tired to argue. The two of you made your way to the inn, a modest building with a welcoming glow emanating from its windows.

The inn's common room was a bustling hub of activity, filled with the sounds of laughter and the clinking of mugs. The innkeeper, a plump woman with kind eyes and a warm smile, greeted you as you approached the counter.

“Good evening, dear,” she said, her voice soft and welcoming. “What can I do for you?”

“We need a room for the night,” you replied, glancing back at Hongjoong, who was leaning heavily against the wall, fighting to stay awake.

The older woman nodded, her eyes flickering to Hongjoong before returning to you. "Of course, dear. We have one room available, but it only has one bed. I hope… that’s alright?”

Her eyes flickered towards your hand. There was no ring on it and so, if you took that single bed room, it would be quiet… frivolous.

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks. You yearned to be close to him, to feel his warmth and comfort, but after everything that happened, the thoughts of sleeping close to someone terrified you. And, most important in this current situation; you weren’t married yet.

Hongjoong, sensing your hesitation, stepped forward. “That will be fine,” he said softly, tired eyes settling upon your figure. “Thank you.”

It seemed you were the only one caring about appearances.

The innkeeper's smile widened, and she quickly handed you a key. “Room 3, just up the stairs. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask.”

You nodded, taking the key with trembling hands. “Thank you,” you managed.

You carefully led Hongjoong up the narrow staircase. The wooden steps creaked under your weight, the sound echoing in the quiet hallway. It seemed that with your arrival, the sound of previous laughter had fully died down. Or maybe the ringing in your ears was too loud for you to notice any other noises. When you reached the door to your room, you hesitated for a moment before unlocking it and pushing it open.

The room was small but cozy, with a single bed pushed against one wall and a small window that offered a view of the village below. The bed was covered with a thick, quilted blanket, and a simple wooden chair sat in the corner.

Hongjoong sank onto the bed with a sigh, his eyes already half-closed. You stood awkwardly by the door, unsure of what to do next.

“Y/N,” Hongjoong murmured, his voice gentle. “You can take the bed. I'll sleep on the floor.”

You shook your head, stepping closer. “No, you need to rest properly. We'll share the bed. It’s... it’s fine.”

He looked at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and gratitude. “Are you sure?”

You nodded, though your heart was pounding in your chest. “Yes. We'll manage. I trust you.”

And you did. What you did not trust though were your inner demons.

Hongjoong fully collapsed onto the bed, his exhaustion finally catching up with him. You sat beside him, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead. “Rest now,” you whispered. “We’ll figure out the rest in the morning. I'll go ahead and fetch us something to eat, okay?”

He nodded, his eyes already closing. You stayed by his side for a few minutes, then quietly left the room to look for food you both desperately needed.

After finding some bread, cheese, and a couple of apples in the inn's small kitchen, you returned to the room. The scent of the simple meal filled the space, mingling with the comforting warmth of the inn. Hongjoong stirred as you entered, his eyes slowly opening.

“Food,” you announced with a soft smile, sitting down on the edge of the bed and handing him a piece of bread. “It's not much, but it's something.”

He took the bread with a grateful smile, his fingers brushing against yours. “Thank you,” he murmured, taking a bite. “This is perfect.”

You both ate in silence for a while. Despite the simplicity of the meal, it felt like a feast after eating little to nothing the past few days. Hongjoong's presence, his gentle smile, and the way he looked at you with such trust and affection made the food taste even better.

As you carefully cut and shared the apples with him, your fingers occasionally brushed against his, each touch sending a small shiver down your spine. The tension of the past days seemed to melt away, replaced by a sense of peace and connection. You found yourself laughing softly at the way Hongjoong tried to juggle the uncut apples, almost dropping them.

“You're hopeless,” you teased, giggling as he finally managed to catch them.

He grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I'm just a man hopelessly in love,” he corrected, his tone playful yet sincere.

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you couldn't help but laugh, a genuine, carefree sound that you hadn't heard from yourself in a long time. It felt good to laugh, to share this moment of lightness with him.

As the meal came to an end, you both settled back on the bed, the small space forcing you to be close. Hongjoong's warmth radiated against your side, his arm brushing against yours. Despite the comfort of his presence, your body immediately tensed.

The last time a man laid next to you, he'd done unspeakable things to you.

But this… this was Hongjoong. Your Hongjoong.

You trusted him.

Yet at the same time, you were still terrified.

You tried to focus on his steady breathing, the rise and fall of his chest, but your heart raced, and your skin prickled with unease. You felt a knot of anxiety forming in your stomach, your muscles tightening involuntarily.

You couldn't breathe.

Hongjoong sensed your discomfort, his hand gently covering yours. “It's okay,” he whispered, his voice soothing. “I'm here.”

You nodded, but his reassurance did little to calm the storm inside you. Your mind was flooded with conflicting thoughts and emotions. The warmth of his body was both a comfort and a reminder of all you had endured. You wanted to relax, to let go and feel safe, but your body wouldn't allow it.

Your breathing quickened, your chest tightening. You could feel your pulse pounding in your ears, each beat drowning out every other sound. Your hands trembled, and you clutched the blanket tightly, trying to ground yourself.

“Breathe,” he murmured, his voice soft and steady. “Just breathe with me.”

“I can't,” you sobbed.

“Shhh. Just close your eyes.”

You did as he said, focusing on his voice, his warmth. Slowly, you matched your breathing to his. The tension in your muscles began to ease, though the fear still lingered at the edges of your mind.

Hongjoong's hand never left yours, his thumb tracing soothing patterns on your skin. “You're safe,” he whispered, his voice a balm to your frayed nerves. “I won't let anything happen to you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes. You squeezed his hand, finding strength in his presence. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a gentle embrace. You felt the steady beat of his heart against your cheek, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest grounding you. “We'll get through this,” he murmured. “Together.”

“You know,” you slowly began, carefully turning around. Now, face to face with him, you carefully lifted your fingers and started tracing husband features; his acquainted eyebrows, over husband prominent cheekbones to his soft, plush lips, where you remained a little longer.

“I don't think I'd be alive without you, Kim Hongjoong. For that… for you, coming into my life and selflessly saving me, I am beyond thankful. But at the same time… at the same time, I can't help but think that if you'd never met me… you could still live your normal life. Sometimes… it gets all too much.”

You held his gaze, your fingers repeating your previous actions of lightly tracing the curve of his lips. “You’ve given me so much, Hongjoong,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “More than I ever thought I deserved.”

His hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped. “You deserve everything, Y/N. More than I could ever give.”

The sincerity in his eyes made your heart ache. “I don't know what I'd do without you,” you said, your voice breaking. “You've been my rock, my savior. I... I don't know if I can ever repay you.”

Hongjoong's hand moved to the back of your neck, his fingers gently kneading the tension there. “You don't need to repay me. Just being with you is enough. Seeing you smile, hearing your laughter... that's all I need for the rest of my life.”

You closed your eyes, savoring the feel of his touch. His fingers were warm and strong, yet so gentle. It was a stark contrast to the harshness you had known before.

“You shine so bright, Joongie. Like the sun. My sun.”

He leaned in closer, his forehead resting against yours. “And you will shine like that too again. Soon,” he breathed, his lips brushing against your skin. The intimacy of the moment made your heart race, but it wasn't fear this time. It was something else, something deeper.

Something only Kim Hongjoong could make you feel.

You opened your eyes, finding his face so close to yours that you could see the flecks of gold in his brown eyes. “Hongjoong,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I'm scared. Not of you, but of losing you. Of the future. Of what might happen if they find us.”

He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering. “We won't let that happen. We're stronger together. They won't find us. Once we're in the capital, I’ll handle everything, okay?”

His words gave you strength, and you found yourself leaning into him, your lips brushing against his in a tender, lingering kiss. It was slow and gentle, a silent promise of your love and devotion towards each other. His hand slipped into your hair, holding you close as your lips moved together, exploring and savoring each other.

When you finally pulled back, you were both breathing heavily, your foreheads still touching. “I love you,” you whispered, your voice filled with pure, raw emotion.

Hongjoong's eyes softened, his thumb tracing your jawline. “And I love you,” he replied, his voice just as tender. “More than words can say.”

You stayed like that for a moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside forgotten. In his embrace, you felt safe, cherished, and deeply loved. The fear and anxiety that had plagued you began to fade, replaced by a warmth that spread through your entire being.

“Let’s rest now,” he whispered, his voice a soothing balm. “Tomorrow is a new day, and we’ll face it together.”

You nodded, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. “Together,” you echoed, your voice steady.

He gently guided you down onto the bed, pulling the blanket over both of you. His arms remained around you, holding you close as you settled into the warmth of his embrace.

As you drifted off to sleep, you felt his lips press a gentle kiss to your temple, his breath warm against your skin. “Goodnight, my love,” he murmured, his voice a soft caress.

“Goodnight,” you whispered back, your heart full.

That night, you finally had a good, peaceful sleep.

“How long until we arrive at the capital?”

Hongjoong was leaning against the carriage window, his eyes scanning the horizon. A storm would be coming soon, he said.

“Two more days, if we keep this pace,” he replied, turning to face you. “The storm may slow us down a bit.”

You nodded. The journey had been long and exhausting, the constant tension of being on the run making you an anxious mess. But with Hongjoong by your side, you felt a strength you had never known before.

The carriage jostled along the uneven road, the sounds of the wheels clattering against the stones a constant reminder of the distance still left to travel. You glanced at Hongjoong, his face etched with determination despite the exhaustion that lingered in his eyes.

“We’ll make it,” you said softly, more to yourself than to him. “We have to.”

He reached out, taking your hand in his and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “We will,” he affirmed, his voice steady. “And once we’re there, we’ll find a way to solve all this mess. To start over.”

You leaned against him, drawing comfort from his presence.

You traveled through several more small villages, their inhabitants just beginning to stir. Farmers led their livestock out to pasture, and shopkeepers opened their doors, the smell of fresh bread and morning fires wafting through the air. The sight of these simple, everyday routines filled you with a strange sense of peace, a reminder that life went on, and that, maybe in the future, your life may look like this too.

Simple yet happy and fulfilling.

And then, you arrived.

You gasped as the large gates of the city appeared in front of you.

The capital was a sprawling maze of streets and alleys, bustling with activity. Everything here was just so much larger, louder and generally more impressive, a stark contrast to the quiet, simpler life you had known. The noise and commotion seemed to close in around you, but Hongjoong’s steady presence kept you grounded.

“It's a lot to take in, right?” he asked.

You nodded, mouth opened in awe as you took in your surroundings. “It's huge. I can't stop looking everywhere!”

He laughed, gently squeezing your hand. “We'll have plenty of time to explore everything once we've settled in properly. I'll show you all my favorite places, okay?”

You smiled at him. A gentle, real smile. “Okay!”

Hongjoong looked around, his eyes bright with excitement despite the exhaustion. “Luckily for us, two of my closest friends live here. They’re good people, and I’m sure they’ll offer us a place to stay.”

You felt a wave of relief wash over you. “That would be wonderful. I can’t wait to meet them. You haven't told me much about your past, so I’m really excited, Joongie.”

“In the future, I'll tell you everything you want to know. My past, present and future are yours, Y/N.”

Your heart fluttered, and a deep blush coated your face. A sheepish smile stole its way onto your lips.

Hongjoong led you through the bustling streets, expertly navigating the maze of alleys and markets. After a few twists and turns, you arrived at a modest but welcoming home.

He hastily jumped up the carriage and then held his hand out for you to take it. You smiled at him. Your lover was a true gentleman, and it made you feel all giddy inside, even at such a small gesture.

Hongjoong knocked on the door, and moments later, it swung open to reveal a tall, athletic man with sharp features and an inquisitive look.

“Hongjoong?” the man said in surprise, his eyes widening. The first thing you noticed was his clothes. They looked… expensive. And yet, he lived in such a small home.

You wondered what his story was.

“What are you doing here?”

“San, it’s a long story,” Hongjoong replied, pulling San into a hug. “We need a place to stay. Is Wooyoung home?”

San nodded, stepping aside to let you both in. “He’s in the kitchen. Come in.”

As you stepped inside, you were immediately greeted by the comforting smell of home-cooked food. A few moments later, another man appeared, carrying a tray of freshly baked bread. He had a playful sparkle in his eyes and a welcoming smile on his face.

“Who do we have here?” Wooyoung asked, setting the tray down and wiping his hands on a towel.

“Wooyoung, this is my friend,” Hongjoong introduced you. “She's been traveling with me.”

Wooyoung’s eyes widened in surprise and then softened. “Well, any friend of Hongjoong’s is welcome here. Please, make yourself at home.”

You felt a warmth spread through you at their genuine hospitality. San and Wooyoung led you to a cozy living room where a fire crackled in the hearth. You sank into a comfortable chair, letting out a sigh as your aching muscles relaxed.

“Sorry for the sudden arrival,” Hongjoong said, his tone sincere. “We didn’t have time to send word ahead.”

San waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. We’re just glad you’re safe. What’s going on?”

Hongjoong looked at you first, before briefly explaining: “It's too long of a story to share in detail. But, we had to flee from where we came from and are now on a mission to… clear up some misunderstandings. I can promise you two that you'll be kept out of any trouble. I just… need a safe place, especially to keep my woman safe.”

San nodded, curiously glancing towards you as the words ‘my woman’ left Hongjoong’s mouth. You smiled awkwardly at the man. “We have a spare room you can use, Hongjoong.”

Tears of gratitude welled up in your eyes. It wasn't much, but just having a place to stay, surrounded by people you knew Hongjoong trusted, was enough to make you feel all sorts of emotions.

“Thank you,” you said, your voice choked with emotion. “Thank you so much.”

Hongjoong squeezed your hand again, his own eyes full of gratitude. “We’re going to be okay,” he whispered softly. “Wooyoung and San are good, nice people. How about you just relax and befriend them while I'll do the work, hm?”

“I couldn't possibly-”

“Oh, but you can”, he interrupted you, playfully playing with your hair. “My Y/N should never worry her pretty head about anything again now that she's with me.”

You giggled sheepishly. “Oh Joongie, you're such a flirt!”

“Ahem.” A voice interrupted you and suddenly, the bubble around the two of you burst and you were reminded that you were not alone but, in fact, in the house of two men who were now very openly staring at you.

One who was cackling behind his hand like a menace - Wooyoung - and the other one who did not know where he should look. You, or the very interesting ceiling?

“So, ‘my woman', huh?” Wooyoung teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Since when did you become such a romantic, Hongjoong? And most importantly: where’s our invitation to the wedding?”

Hongjoong’s ears turned a deep shade of red, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. “Wooyoung, now’s not the time…”

“Oh, but it’s always the time for love, Joongie!” Wooyoung replied with a dramatic flourish. “Here we were, thinking you were just wandering around from city to city and selling your dresses, but no, you were secretly out there sweeping a lovely lady off her feet!”

San tried to interject, a desperate attempt to hold the man beside him back. “Wooyoung, maybe we should-”

“San, don’t be a killjoy,” Wooyoung interrupted, waving his hand dismissively. “This is the most excitement we’ve had in weeks! Besides, our Hongjoong, who couldn't even look a woman into the eye the last time we saw him, has finally grown up. We must celebrate!”

“I'm older than both of you, Wooyoung!”

Hongjoong buried his face in his hands, clearly embarrassed. You couldn’t help but giggle at the situation, feeling a bit more at ease in the presence of the two strangers now.

“Y/N, you should know,” Wooyoung continued, leaning in conspiratorially, “Hongjoong here is quite the catch. He’s a gentleman, a true and talented dressmaker, and apparently, a poet. ‘My woman’, indeed.”

San finally managed to find his voice. “Alright, Wooyoung, give them a break. They’ve had a long journey, and they need rest, not your joking.”

Wooyoung pouted dramatically. “Fine, fine. But don’t think this conversation is over, Hongjoong. We need all the juicy details later.”

Hongjoong groaned, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips. “You never change, do you, Wooyoung?”

“Never,” Wooyoung replied proudly. “And you wouldn’t have it any other way.”

San shook his head, though a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Let’s get you both settled in. You can rest, and we’ll talk more later. Until then Wooyoung, behave yourself.”

Wooyoung saluted playfully. “Aye, aye, captain!”

Later that evening, after a hearty meal and much laughter with Wooyoung and San, you were led into a small, cozy room. The modest bed in the corner looked incredibly inviting after the long journey. You quickly freshened up, San kindly lending you some spare clothing for the night, before returning back to the room. Hongjoong was already there, lying on his back, staring at the ceiling lost in thought. You quietly slipped in beside him, the bed creaking softly under your weight.

He turned to you, his expression softening as he reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face. “How are you feeling?” he asked gently.

“Tired,” you admitted, snuggling closer to him.

Only then did you realize that, despite sharing the bed with him multiple times now, this was the first time both of you wore proper sleeping clothing. Therefore, both of you were a bit… more exposed than usual.

Suddenly, you were very, very aware of the naked skin his hand was occasionally touching.

And your heart skipped a beat. This time, not of the usual warmth Hongjoong ignited within you all the time.

No, this time, there was also a hint of fear rushing through your veins.

You closed your eyes for a moment, savoring the softness of his touch, yet the past clung to you like a shroud, and you felt a flicker of hesitation within you.

“Y/N,” Hongjoong’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, low and soothing, “you can trust me.” There was an earnestness in his tone, a promise that echoed in the silence of the room. He shifted closer, his body radiating heat and a sense of safety that beckoned you to let go of your fears and open your eyes to meet him.

Nothing but sincerity and love greeted you in his gaze.

As his hand traced a gentle path along your arm, you shivered at the sensation. It was a touch that was so different from what you had known, devoid of the harshness that had once marred your skin and spirit. His fingers danced lightly over your wrist, and you felt a rush of warmth that sent a thrill through your heart, igniting a yearning you had thought was lost forever.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort. You nodded carefully. It was a struggle to separate the innocence of his affection from the painful memories that tainted your every being. You could feel your breath quicken as he leaned closer, the scent of him - fresh and comforting - surrounding you like a soft embrace.

Hongjoong’s fingers slipped beneath your chin, tilting your face towards his. The way he looked at you, with such reverence and care, made your heart ache. “You’re safe with me,” he murmured, and it felt like a balm to your soul. You had craved this kind of tenderness, and even though the man in front of you was willing to give it to you, to give you his all, a remaining feeling of panic remained deep inside of you.

“I'm sorry you have to deal with this again. One may think that after we slept side by side so many times already I would get used to it. I don't know why I'm so pathe-”

“Princess, don't you dare finish this sentence. You're incredible and don't have to apologize for a single thing.”

He leaned in, brushing his lips softly against yours, a gentle caress that sent shivers down your spine. It was a kiss that said so, so much, a kiss that was patient and completely unhurried. You melted into him, feeling the warmth of his body envelop you like a protective cocoon.

You did your best to believe in his words.

That night, nothing more happened.

Hongjoong knew that it would take you a long while to truly let go of your fears.

And, while tracing more gentle kisses along your skin, all he said was: “I don't need you to give me your body to know that you are already mine and I am yours.”

The next day, as you slowly woke up and blinked the tears away, you noticed two things immediately: winter was coming, and the temperatures were dropping quickly and, most importantly; Hongjoong's side of the bed was empty.

There was no logical explanation for the panic that immediately set in, yet you felt your chest tightening and your heart pounding quickly. You rushed out of bed, almost stumbling over your own feet as you slipped into the soft pantoffels San provided you with, and sprinted down the stairs.

“Woah, what's the rush-”

“Wooyoung”, you interrupted the man with sleepy, still half-closed eyes, “Where's Hongjoong?”

He scratched the back of his hand. “He left when you fell asleep last night. All he said was that he had some matters to take care of and would be back early in the morning. He… isn't back yet?”

The weight of Wooyoung's words hit you like a train. If Hongjoong had promised to be back by morning, then where was he? The sun was already peeking through the curtains, casting long shadows across the room, and there was still no sign of him. A thousand thoughts raced through your mind as you tried to make sense of the situation.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as the panic threatened to overwhelm you. “No… he isn't back yet,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. The words felt foreign on your tongue.

Wooyoung's expression shifted from confusion to concern. “Maybe he got held up somewhere? You know how he is… always taking on more than he should.”

You shook your head, refusing to accept that as the answer. “He wouldn't just leave without telling me. Not like this.”

But what if he would?

The unease in your chest grew stronger, the fear tightening its grip around your heart.

Wooyoung reached out, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Let's not jump to conclusions. Maybe he's on his way back right now.”

But you could see the uncertainty in his eyes, the doubt he was trying so hard to hide. The pit in your stomach deepened, and you knew you couldn't just sit around waiting, hoping that everything would be okay.

“I need to find him,” you said, determination lacing your voice. You quickly turned on your heel, heading for the door without another word.

"Wait!" Wooyoung called after you, but you were already halfway out the door, your mind set on one thing: finding Hongjoong.

And then you pumped head first into San.

“Careful, little one. What's the-”

“Have you seen Hongjoong?” you blurted out, your voice trembling as you nearly collided with San.

San’s usually warm expression was replaced with a frown. “No, I haven’t. What’s going on? Why are you in such a rush?”

You hesitated, your mind racing. Should you tell them? Would they even understand? Hongjoong hasn't told them anything concrete about your situation as of now, and you weren't sure if you should tell them without him present.

“He’s… He’s not back yet. Wooyoung said he left last night, but he should’ve been back by now.”

San’s eyes widened. “And he hasn't said where he's going?”

You shook your head, fighting to keep your voice steady. “No. But I... I can’t just sit around and wait. I need to find him.”

San looked conflicted, glancing over at Wooyoung, who had followed you outside. “But you don’t know your way around the capital. You could get lost or… worse.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but San gently placed a hand on your arm, stopping you. “I get that you’re worried, but let’s wait a bit longer, okay? He wouldn’t want you getting into trouble trying to find him.”

The thought of sitting around doing nothing while Hongjoong was out there - somewhere - felt unbearable. He was shouldering all your problems alone, and it made you both guilty and mad that he didn't even tell you a single thing.

Reluctantly, you nodded, and San led you back inside the house. The atmosphere was heavy as the three of you settled into the living room, the clock on the wall ticking away the minutes in agonizing slowness.

“So… uh…”

Awkward silence set in, both men looking at each other concerned. Wooyoung, trying to lighten the mood, leaned back on the couch and stretched.

“Uh.. Did you know that San literally can't sleep without hugging something? And with something, I mean me - like, this man doesn't know how strong he is and literally suffocates me every night!”, he laughs.

You glanced at San, who looked somewhat mortified, a blush creeping up his neck. “Wooyoung…” he muttered, giving him a half-hearted glare. Unfortunately, his joke did nothing to soothe your nerves. If anything, it only made the awkwardness more palpable. “Uh, that's… interesting,” you mumbled, not really knowing what else to say. You liked them both, but conversations with them always felt like you were navigating a minefield, unsure of where to step.

Especially now that Hongjoong wasn't here with you.

San rubbed the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed. “It's not like that, really. It's just… a comfort thing, I guess.”

You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt, stealing glances at Wooyoung and San, who were both trying, in their own ways, to lighten the atmosphere. They were being so kind, so patient, but it only made you feel worse. You weren’t used to this. It was foreign, almost suffocating, in a way you couldn't quite understand.

Wooyoung cleared his throat, breaking the silence, seemingly ignoring that you still haven't said anything to his joking attempt to lighten the mood. “So, uh, have you had breakfast yet? I can make something if you’re hungry.”

You shook your head, though the thought of eating made your stomach twist in a knot. “No, I’m… I’m not really hungry.”

“Coffee, then?” San offered, trying to keep the conversation going. “Or tea? I think there’s still some left in the kitchen.”

You hesitated, not wanting to seem ungrateful. “Maybe… tea?” It felt like the right thing to say, even if you weren’t sure you could stomach anything right now.

San nodded, giving you a small, encouraging smile. “Tea it is. I’ll be right back.” He got up, his footsteps almost too loud in the quiet room, leaving you alone with Wooyoung. The silence between you and the other man was thick, both of you unsure of what to say. You could feel his gaze on you, but you kept your eyes fixed on the floor, afraid that if you looked up, he’d see just how out of sorts you really were.

Wooyoung shifted in his seat, clearly trying to come up with something to break the tension. “You know, I don’t think we’ve really had the chance to talk much… Just us,” he said.

“Yeah,” you murmured, feeling your cheeks heat up. You wanted to be able to talk to him, to say something normal, but the words just wouldn’t come. It was frustrating - feeling like you were locked inside your own head, even when you desperately wanted to reach out. He leaned back, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I get it, though. Meeting new people can be… overwhelming.”

You looked up at him. “It’s just… I’m not really used to this. To any of this,” you admitted quietly, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

Wooyoung nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Yeah, I figured. But hey, no pressure. We’re just… trying to make you feel welcome, you know? You're Hongjoong's girl, after all.”

“I know,” you replied quickly, feeling a pang of guilt. “I really appreciate it. I do. It’s just… hard, sometimes.”

He didn’t press you, just nodded again, his eyes soft. “It’s okay. We’re not in any rush. We’ve all got our own issues, you know?”

Before you could respond, San returned, holding a steaming mug of tea. He handed it to you with a small, reassuring smile. “Here you go. It’s chamomile - good for relaxing.”

“Thanks,” you whispered, wrapping your hands around the warm mug, letting the heat seep into your skin.

San settled back into his seat, the three of you once again falling into a somewhat awkward silence. You sipped your tea, the warmth soothing your throat, but it did little to calm the turmoil inside you. They were trying so hard, and that only made it worse. You could see the effort in every glance, every word. They didn’t know your past, your struggles, and you didn’t know how to tell them - didn’t even know if you should. And so you stayed quiet, trapped in your own thoughts, feeling like an outsider despite their best efforts.

“I guess… I’m just not good at this,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“At what?” San asked gently, leaning forward slightly.

“Talking. Being around people. Making… friends I don’t know how to…” You trailed off, unable to find the right words.

Wooyoung chuckled softly, not in a mocking way, but as if he understood more than you realized. “You’re doing just fine. We’re not exactly pros at this either, you know. Most of the time, we’re just winging it.”

San nodded in agreement. “He’s right. It’s okay to not know what to say. We’re just… glad you’re here.”

Their words made something inside you ache. You still weren’t used to kindness without strings attached, to people caring just because. It felt undeserved, even after Hongjoong showed you that you did in fact deserve it, and that made you even more unsure of how to act.

“Thanks,” you whispered, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on you. You wanted to be better at this, for them, for Hongjoong, but you didn’t know how.

Wooyoung grinned, nudging your shoulder lightly. “No need to thank us. We’re all in this together, right?”

You nodded, managing a small smile in return. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. And that was enough for now.

If someone would've told you that you'd ever be genuinely mad at Kim Hongjoong, you definitely would've laughed right in their face. Because Hongjoong was the kindest, sweetest man you'd ever known, so what would ever make you angry at him?

“Ah, look who's back,” was all you said as you heard the door close behind you.

You had never imagined feeling this way toward Hongjoong, the man who you grew to love so much. But now, as you stood in your shared living room, hearing the door close behind you, that anger burned hotter, fueled by the fear and helplessness that had consumed you all morning.

You didn't turn around to face him immediately, your hands clenched into fists at your sides. Your mind raced with thoughts, each one only making the knot in your chest tighter.

The sound of his footsteps approaching filled the room, and you could feel his presence behind you, close enough to touch. For a moment, you considered letting it go, just brushing it all under the rug like you’d done with so many things before. But this was different. This problem wasn't just his alone; this was your life too, your problems, your fears, and he had just walked away, leaving you in the dark.

Hongjoong hesitated. “I’m sorry I was gone for so long,” he began, but that was all it took to make you whirl around, your emotions spilling over.

“Sorry? You’re sorry?” The words came out harsher than you intended, but you couldn’t stop them. “You left without saying a word, Hongjoong. I don't even know where you went! You promised you’d be back by morning, and then you just… didn’t come back. It's almost midnight now! Do you have any idea what that did to me?”

His eyes widened, clearly taken aback by your outburst. “I didn’t mean to worry you,” he said, his voice softening, but you could see the guilt in his eyes. “I just had to take care of some things-”

“But why alone?” you interrupted, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt. “Why do you always do this? You think you have to handle everything by yourself, like I’m some fragile thing that needs to be protected. But this is my problem too, Joong! I have a right to know, to help, to be there with you! Because…” your voice broke, and you looked at the floor as you wiped a tear away, “because the guilt is eating me alive, Joong. Without me… without me, none of this would have ever happened. It all began with me, so I should… I should take responsibility too.”

Hongjoong’s expression softened as he saw the tears welling up in your eyes. “Hey, hey, no,” he murmured, stepping closer and reaching out to cup your face, but you took a step back and shook your head silently.

“Don’t,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Don’t act like this is just something we can brush aside, like it’s no big deal. You think you’re protecting me by keeping things from me, but you’re not. You’re only making it worse. I can’t keep doing this, Joong. I can’t keep pretending that it’s okay for you to shut me out. For you to shoulder everything alone.”

Hongjoong’s hand dropped to his side, his face crumbling with regret. “I never wanted to shut you out. I just… I didn’t want you to worry, didn’t want you to feel like you had to carry this burden. You're still so… hurt. I thought I was doing the right thing by handling it on my own.”

“But it’s not just your burden to carry!” you cried, your voice breaking. “We’re supposed to be in this together, Joong. You don’t get to decide what I can or can’t handle. You don’t get to just leave me in the dark, wondering if you’re okay, wondering if you’ll even come back. I was worried sick the whole day!”

His eyes were filled with a pain that mirrored your own, and for a moment, he looked like he didn’t know what to say, like he didn’t know how to make this right. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I thought I was protecting you, but all I did was hurt you. I’m so, so sorry.”

You shook your head, tears spilling over your cheeks as you looked at him, at the man you loved more than anything in the world, the man who had somehow become a stranger to you in this moment.

“I'll be sleeping on the couch tonight,” you mumbled. “You may talk to me again when you're finally ready to include me in your plans. Until then… good night, Joong.”

“Y/N, wait-”

But the door shut close behind you before he could finish his sentence.

“H‐hey, I'm sorry, I really didn't want to eavesdrop, but I heard you two arguing...” San’s voice trailed off, his gaze meeting yours. The moment your tear-filled eyes locked with his, the emotions you’d been trying so hard to keep in check threatened to overflow.

For a second, you hesitated. You weren’t close to San - not really. He was still more of a stranger than a friend, someone who was kind and caring but still somewhat distant. But right now, you felt like you were drowning, and he was the only solid thing within your reach.

Without thinking, you moved towards him. As soon as you reached him, you hesitated again, but before you could pull back, San’s arms wrapped around you in a warm, protective embrace. You buried your face in his chest, and the dam inside you finally broke.

Tears poured down your cheeks as you cried against him, the sobs you’d been holding back all day finally breaking free. San stiffened for a moment, clearly caught off guard, but he quickly relaxed, his hold tightening slightly as he let you cry it out.

The warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your ear - it was the first comfort you’d felt all day. But even as he stood there comforting you, you still felt torn. The only person you'd ever fully confined in was Hongjoong. This was new territory for you, and it was both comforting and terrifying at the same time.

San didn’t say anything, just stood there quietly, holding you as you trembled in his arms. His hand moved slowly to your back, rubbing gentle circles as he tried to soothe you. His touch was hesitant, like he wasn’t sure if he was doing the right thing.

As your sobs subsided, leaving you with shaky breaths and red, tear-streaked cheeks, you slowly pulled back, wiping your eyes. You were still in his arms, but you felt the awkwardness creeping back in, and your gaze wandered again, not knowing where to look.

“I… I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice hoarse from crying. “I didn’t mean to…”

San shook his head, his gaze softening. “You don’t have to apologize,” he said quietly. “You’ve been through a lot. It’s okay to break down sometimes.”

You managed a small, shaky smile, but the uncertainty was still there, lingering between you. “I just… I don’t know what to do, San. I feel so lost. Hongjoong… he means everything to me, but he’s shutting me out. I know he has only my best interest at heart, but… This is my story, too. And I don’t know how to handle that.”

San hesitated, as if weighing his words carefully. “I’m not gonna pretend I know exactly what you’re going through,” he began, “but I do know that Hongjoong cares about you - more than you probably realize. He’s just… used to handling things on his own. ”

You nodded.

“You’re… you’re really kind, San,” you murmured, your voice still trembling. “But we barely know each other. I don’t want to burden you with my problems.”

San’s expression softened even more, and he gave you a small, reassuring smile. “You’re not a burden. We all have our struggles, and sometimes it helps to have someone to lean on, even if it’s someone you’re not that close to… yet.” He added that last word with a gentle emphasis, as if offering a bridge to something more.

You looked up at him, meeting his eyes, and for the first time, you felt a small crack in the walls you've built around yourself.

And so, in the heat of the moment, you told him everything. San brought you to the living room, where he carefully sat you down and wrapped you in a blanket, and as Wooyoung joined you two, you told them everything.

About your marriage, your family, your town - and about the man who took it upon himself to save you from this cruel fate.

The tension between you and Hongjoong had been unbearable for days. Ever since that night, neither of you had spoken more than a few words to each other.

You had thrown yourself into anything that could keep your mind busy - cleaning, reading, anything to avoid thinking about the rift that had formed between you and the man you loved.

Then, one evening, as you sat alone in the living room, lost in thought, you heard the front door creak open. Hongjoong stepped in, his presence immediately filling the room with the weight of everything left unsaid. Your heart clenched at the sight of him - he looked exhausted, worn down by the stress of the past few days.

He stood there for a moment, just looking at you, as if trying to gauge your mood, before finally breaking the silence. “We need to talk.”

The words sent a chill down your spine, but you nodded, too tired to resist any longer. “Okay,” you said quietly, standing up from the couch and facing him.

Hongjoong swallowed, his throat bobbing as he struggled to find the right words. “I know you’re still angry at me,” he began, his voice low and strained. “And I understand why. I learned my lesson, Y/N. But now… now I wanna include you. If you… if you want that.”

You didn’t say anything, just watched him, your heart beating faster as he continued.

“There’s someone we need to see,” he said after a pause, his eyes searching for yours. “Someone who can help us, who can clear my name and… maybe, just maybe, give us a chance at a life without all this running and hiding.”

You blinked, not sure if you’d heard him correctly. “Who… who are you talking about?”

Hongjoong took a deep breath, as if steeling himself for what he was about to say. “The Queen,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “She’s the only one powerful enough to undo this mess. I’ve been trying to arrange a meeting with her for days, but she’s… she’s not easy to reach. But now… now we can finally meet her.”

Your eyes widened in shock. “The Queen? As in… the Queen?”

The Queen was a figure of almost mythical power, someone so far removed from your world that the idea of asking for her help seemed as impossible as wishing on a star.

But Hongjoong’s expression was deadly serious, and you could see the determination burning in his eyes. He wasn’t just grasping at straws - he truly believed this was your last chance, your only hope to end the nightmare that had taken over your lives.

“The Queen,” he confirmed, his voice steady, though his hands were shaking slightly as he reached out to you.

“You know… I… I’ve worked for her for years, Y/N. I made her gowns, her dresses, the wedding dress she wore when she married the King… that was mine. She told me once, when I presented it to her, that if I ever needed anything, anything at all, she would do her best to help me. And I never thought I’d have to take her up on that offer, but now… I have no other choice.”

“The Queen… oh my God,” you whispered. “This is… insane.”

The reality of what Hongjoong was saying began to sink in, and your mind spun with the implications. The Queen, the most powerful woman in the kingdom, someone who could alter the course of your lives with just a single word… It was overwhelming, to say the least. You’d grown up hearing stories about her, tales of her beauty, wisdom, and strength. But those were just stories. The idea of meeting her, let alone asking for her help, seemed impossible. Yet here Hongjoong was, standing in front of you, serious and resolute.

“I know it sounds insane,” Hongjoong said, his voice breaking through your thoughts. “But this is our best chance, Y/N. Maybe our only chance. And we have evidence. The letters, remember?

“-And the scars on my body,” you whispered.

Hongjoong bawled his hands, his jaw clenching immediately. “You never… told me you had remaining scars.”

You nodded. “Ignoring them is easier. I try to… forget them entirely when I can.”

Without a word, he moved closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders in a silent gesture of comfort. You leaned into him, the warmth of his body making you relax immediately.

After a moment, he cleared his throat, shifting the focus back to the task at hand. “We need to get ready,” he said, his voice steady. “If we’re going to meet the Queen, we can’t go in looking like this.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“There’s no time to waste. I have to make something for us,” he said, determination flashing in his eyes. “We need to look elegant. I might not have my supplies here, but I can work with what we have.”

Your heart raced at the thought of him making outfits from scratch. “Are you sure you can do that?”

He nodded firmly, already moving toward the small room where you were temporarily staying in Wooyoung and San's house. “I’ll figure it out. Just give me a minute to gather some things.”

You watched as he began searching through the limited fabric and materials you had, his hands working swiftly. He rummaged through the closet, pulling out old sheets and any leftover clothing you had brought along. You felt a mixture of admiration and anxiety as you realized the weight of what he was attempting to do.

“What do you need me to do?” you asked, stepping closer to him.

“There's a shop nearby that sells fabrics,” he said, already rummaging through his pockets for money, “I need you to buy me some. Can you do that?”

Your heart raced at the urgency in his voice, but a wave of uncertainty washed over you. “Uh, sure, but... I’m not sure where it is,” you admitted, glancing out the window. The sun was starting to set, and you were acutely aware of the time slipping away.

“I’ll draw you a quick map,” he said, moving quickly to grab a scrap of paper and a pen. He sketched a simple layout, marking the route to the shop with clear, careful lines. “You can do this, Y/N. Just follow the map, and don’t let anyone see you.”

You nodded. “What do you need me to get?”

“Just some quality fabric, something that looks nice but isn’t too extravagant. Maybe something dark for me, something light and flowing for you,” he instructed, glancing up at you. “Can you remember that?”

You took a deep breath, nodding again. “Yes, I can do that.”

“Great,” he said, folding the paper and handing it to you. “I’ll need you back as soon as possible. We don’t have much time.”

“I’ll be quick,” you promised. As you turned to leave, you caught a glimpse of him, already immersed in his work, the fabric and thread strewn across the table like a chaotic canvas.

As you stepped outside, the cool evening air hit your face. You followed the map he had drawn. The shop wasn’t far, and soon you found yourself standing in front of a small fabric store, the sign creaking softly in the breeze.

Once inside, the overwhelming scent of textiles filled your senses. Bolts of fabric in every color and texture lined the walls, and the shopkeeper gave you a curious look as you stepped in. Remembering Hongjoong’s instructions, you immediately focused on finding something that fit his descriptions.

After scanning the shelves, you spotted a soft, flowing fabric in a light cream color that seemed perfect. You could almost picture how beautiful it would look on you. With that in mind, you also searched for a darker fabric for Hongjoong. You settled on a deep navy blue, rich yet understated, that would complement the cream tone perfectly.

With your choices made, you approached the counter, your heart pounding as you handed over the money Hongjoong had given you. The shopkeeper smiled and carefully wrapped the fabric.

“Thank you,” you said, clutching the bundle tightly as you headed back outside.

As you stepped through the door of Wooyoung and San's house, you saw Hongjoong still working diligently. He looked up, his eyes lighting up as he saw the fabric in your arms. “You did it!” he exclaimed, taking the fabric from you. “This is perfect!”

You smiled, relieved to see his excitement. “I hope it’s what you wanted. I wasn’t sure…”

“It’s exactly what I needed,” he said, moving quickly to lay the fabric out on the table. “Now, we can start putting everything together.”

Hongjoong spread the fabrics across the table, eyes gleaming with purpose. “This is going to be incredible,” he said, barely able to contain his excitement. You watched him with admiration as he quickly sketched designs in his notebook, his mind racing with ideas.

The first night stretched on, the room dimly lit by a single lamp casting shadows on the walls. You could hear the rhythmic hum of the sewing machine as Hongjoong lost himself in the work.

Time blurred as the night turned into dawn, and you found yourself falling in and out of sleep. The only sounds were the soft whir of the machine and the occasional rustle of fabric. You’d occasionally catch Hongjoong stealing glances at you, and though he was clearly exhausted, there was a fire in his eyes that wouldn't die down.

By morning, the first pieces of your outfits began to take shape. “Look at this,” Hongjoong said, holding up the bodice of your gown. His excitement was contagious, and you couldn't help but smile. “It’s coming together beautifully, don’t you think?”

“It’s stunning, Hongjoong,” you replied, your heart swelling with admiration. “I can't wait to see the final piece.”

As he set it down and returned to his work, you noticed how hard he had to concentrate just to keep his eyes open. He was clearly pushing himself to the limit. You wanted to urge him to take a break, to rest for a moment, but you hesitated.

Hongjoong moved with practiced precision, cutting and sewing and cutting and sewing; repeating the same routine over and over again.

Yet, as the hours ticked by, his pace slowed down more and more.

“Hongjoong,” you finally said, breaking the comfortable silence. “Maybe you should take a break. You’ve been at this for so long.”

He paused, looking at you with those tired yet determined eyes. “I can’t stop now. We’re so close. I just need to finish your gown, and then I’ll rest, I promise.”

You sighed. “Okay, but promise me you’ll take care of yourself too. I don’t want you collapsing from exhaustion when we meet the Queen.”

A soft chuckle escaped his lips, but the laughter quickly faded as he nodded. “I promise, Y/N. Just a bit longer.”

A bit longer turned out to be one more day full of work.

On the evening of the second day, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Hongjoong finally stepped back, surveying the gown he had made for you. The fabric flowed beautifully, a soft cream color with delicate embroidery that accentuates your figure. It was breathtaking.

“Look,” he said, gesturing to the dress. “It’s finished.”

“It doesn't matter how many dresses of yours I'll see, I'll always be amazed… you're so talented, Joongie,” you said, slowly stepping between his legs and carefully combing through his hair.

Hongjoong slung his arms around your waist and laid his head on your stomach, closing his eyes for a few minutes.

You took a deep breath, letting the warmth of his reassurance settle within you. “So, how exactly will we get to the palace?” you asked, trying to shift the focus from your worries to practical matters.

He pulled away slightly, his eyes brightening as he began to explain. “The Queen’s servants are discreet and efficient. After I sent word to her, she agreed to send a carriage for us. It should arrive tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow?” The reality sent your heart racing again. “Do we have everything ready? What if something goes wrong?”

Hongjoong chuckled softly, trying to lighten the mood. “Don’t worry. Everything is in place. The only thing we need to do is stay calm.”

The following morning arrived way too fast. You woke to the sound of birds chirping outside and a warm breeze entering your room through the window.

Hongjoong was already up, carefully folding the outfits he had poured his heart into over the past two days. You stood up and approached him, placing a gentle hand on his back. “Are you ready for this?” you asked softly.

He nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” he replied, offering you a small smile.

You gave him a reassuring nod yourself, though your own nerves were starting to fray. The idea of meeting the Queen, of putting your fate in her hands, felt surreal. But there was no turning back now. You quickly changed into the gown Hongjoong had created for you, the fabric cool against your skin, yet surprisingly comforting. It fit you perfectly, accentuating your form in all the right ways, the soft cream color making you feel both elegant and ethereal.

Though the dress Hongjoong created back in your hometown, the one so blue it reminded you if the sea itself, would always be your favorite, this one was nonetheless nothing but breathtaking.

When you finally emerged, Hongjoong’s breath caught in his throat. He stared at you for a long moment, a proud smile stealing its way on his lips. “You look… beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “Just like I imagined.”

You smiled, stepping closer to him. “You look amazing, too.”

Hongjoong's gaze softened as you stepped closer. All that mattered was him, standing before you, his eyes tracing every curve and line of your face.

You reached out, your fingers trembling slightly as you brushed a stray lock of hair away from his forehead. His breath hitched at the simple touch, and you could see the raw emotion in his eyes, the love, the desire, and the lingering regret of the days you'd spent apart.

His hands found your waist, pulling you gently but firmly against him. The heat of his body against yours sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt your heart pounding in your chest,

Hongjoong’s eyes searched yours, silently asking for permission, for reassurance. You didn’t need to say a word - your eyes told him everything he needed to know. Slowly, deliberately, he leaned in, his lips hovering just a breath away from yours. The anticipation was almost unbearable.

When his lips finally met yours, the world around you seemed to disappear. The kiss was slow, almost hesitant at first, as if he was savoring every second. His lips were soft, warm, and as they moved against yours, you felt a deep, aching need stirring within you, a need that had been building for days, weeks, months.

Your hands found their way to his shoulders, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt as you pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. Hongjoong responded in kind, his grip on your waist tightening as his other hand tangled in your hair, tilting your head back to gain better access. The kiss grew more intense, more passionate, as if all the emotions you'd both been holding back were pouring out in this one, desperate act.

You could taste the urgency on his lips, feel the way his heart was racing just as fast as yours. His tongue brushed against yours, sending a wave of heat through your body that made you feel like you were melting into him. The kiss was everything - sweet and tender, yet fierce and consuming.

Hongjoong’s hands roamed your back, pulling you even closer, until there was no space left between you. You could feel the strength in his arms, the way his muscles tensed under your touch, and it only made you want him more.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathing heavily, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath. Hongjoong’s eyes were half-lidded, his lips slightly swollen from the intensity of the kiss. He looked at you with an expression that was equal parts awe and desire, as if he couldn’t quite believe you were real, that this very moment here was real.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “I love you so much.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you cupped his face in your hands, brushing your thumbs gently across his cheeks. “I love you too, Hongjoong. I always have. I always will.”

He smiled, a soft, genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat. And then, without another word, he leaned in and kissed you again, slow and deep, as if he had all the time in the world to show you just how much he loved you, how much you meant to him.

“You ready?” he asked as he took a step back. You instantly missed his lips on yours, but you nodded nonetheless.

He offered you his hand, and you took it without hesitation.

As you stepped aside, clearly overdressed in this rural neighborhood, the carriage was already waiting, a sleek, black vehicle with the Queen’s crest emblazoned on the side. The horses were well-groomed, their coats gleaming in the sunlight. A stern-looking driver stood by, his expression unreadable as he held the door open for you. With one last deep breath, you and Hongjoong climbed inside, settling onto the plush seats.

The carriage began to move slowly, the sound of the wheels clattering against the cobblestones filled the silence. You glanced at Hongjoong, who was staring out the window, his jaw clenched.

For a while, neither of you spoke. You simply watched the world pass by outside.

Finally, Hongjoong broke the silence, his voice low and contemplative. “Do you remember the first time we met?”

The question caught you off guard, and you turned to look at him, surprised by the sudden change in topic. But as you met his gaze, you could see the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, a softness in his eyes that you hadn’t seen in days.

The sudden shift in conversation caught you off guard, but a small smile crept onto your face as the memory came flooding back. “Of course, I remember,” you replied, chuckling softly. “How could I forget that? Ah, Django… I miss him… And Benji… oh God, my little Benji… I hope they're all well.”

“They are, my love. I'm sure they are.”

And then, as the carriage rounded a final bend, the palace finally came into view. It was a magnificent structure, with its white marble walls glowing in the fading light. The Queen’s residence was every bit as awe-inspiring as the stories had said, its towering spires reaching towards the heavens.

Your breath caught in your throat at the sight, and you felt Hongjoong’s grip on your hand tighten.

As the carriage drew closer, you could see a group of palace guards standing right outside the gates, their armor gleaming under the soft glow of the lanterns that lined the pathway to the grand entrance. The carriage came to a smooth stop, and the driver emerged, opening the door for you and Hongjoong.

You took a deep breath. Hongjoong stepped out first, offering his hand to help you down. As your feet touched the ground, you felt a shiver run down your spine.

The grand doors of the palace opened with a slow, deliberate creak, revealing a tall, elegant woman dressed in a deep burgundy gown. Her presence was commanding, yet her expression was kind as she approached.

“Welcome,” she said, her voice smooth and authoritative. “The Queen has been expecting you.”

You exchanged a quick glance with Hongjoong, who gave you a small nod, before you both followed the woman inside. The interior of the palace was just as breathtaking as the exterior, with high ceilings adorned with various paintings and chandeliers that sparkled like diamonds. The floor beneath your feet was made of polished marble, and the soft click of your shoes were echoing through the halls.

As you walked deeper into the palace, the grandeur only increased. Walls were lined with portraits of past kings and queens, their eyes seeming to follow you as you passed.

Finally, you were led to a pair of ornately carved doors, which the woman pushed open with ease. Beyond them was a grand chamber, bathed in the warm light of a thousand candles. At the far end of the room, seated on a throne that seemed to be carved out of pure gold, was the Queen herself.

She was as regal as you had imagined, with an aura of quiet power that made the room feel smaller, the air more charged. Her hair was a rich, dark color, intricately braided and adorned with jewels that sparkled with every movement. Her eyes, sharp and intelligent, fixed on you and Hongjoong as you entered the room.

“Your Majesty,” Hongjoong said, bowing deeply before you had a chance to follow his lead.

The Queen’s gaze softened as she looked at Hongjoong, a small smile playing on her lips. “Rise, Hongjoong,” she said, her voice warm but firm. “It has been a long time.”

Hongjoong straightened up, but his grip on your hand tightened. You could feel the tension in his body as he struggled to maintain his composure. The Queen’s eyes flicked to you, her expression unreadable. “I see you have brought someone with you, Hongjoong. Please, both of you, come closer.”

You nodded, bowing deeply in respect. “It’s an honor to meet you, Your Majesty,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady despite the anxiety that almost made you fall ill.

The Queen studied you for a moment before her gaze returned to Hongjoong. “I understand you’ve come to ask for my help?” she said, her voice carrying the weight of authority.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Hongjoong replied. “We’ve found ourselves in desperate need of your help. I’ve brought evidence to prove our case, but… there is also something that only Y/N can show you.”

The Queen raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “And what is this evidence?”

Hongjoong hesitated, glancing at you before speaking. “Your Majesty, before I ask Y/N to show you the evidence, I feel it’s important for you to understand her story - our story - in its entirety.”

The Queen nodded, her expression growing more serious as she settled back into her seat, indicating for him to continue.

Hongjoong took a long, deep breath. “Y/N came from a decent, middle-class family. They lived comfortably - not wealthy, but certainly not poor. Her future should have been secure, perhaps with a marriage that would maintain or even improve her standing in society. But things took a dark turn.”

He paused, glancing at you as if seeking your permission to continue. You gave him a small nod, and he went on, his voice heavy with emotion.

“Her father… he made a decision that changed everything. He married her off to a man well below her status - a drunkard, a violent brute. This man - he was no husband. He was a monster. He raped and beat her almost every day, treating her worse than a common servant. She was trapped in a nightmare, until she… until she had to kill him in self defense to save the both of us.”

“And to protect me,” you chimed in, your desperate gaze finding the woman before you before you continued: “J-joong- I mean, Hongjoong took the blame upon himself. He… he was about to be beheaded for a crime he didn't commit, so I… I took it upon myself to release him and flee with him.”

“We are here to plead our innocence, and to ask for a royal pardon of you, your Majesty,” Hongjoong spoke, standing proud and tall beside you, like the safe haven he always was for you.

“A royal pardon, you say?” she asked.

“Yes. Since no one in our town bothered to even investigate, we ask for you to review all evidence and overturn the decision.”

The Queen’s expression remained inscrutable, giving away nothing of her thoughts. Silence stretched in the grand chamber, broken only by the faint crackling of the candles and the distant echo of footsteps in the vast corridors beyond.

At last, the Queen rose from her throne, the jewels in her hair catching the light as she moved. She descended the steps from the throne with grace

“I can see the truth in your eyes, but understand this - granting a royal pardon is not a decision I take lightly. There must be undeniable proof,” she said.

She turned to you, her sharp gaze assessing. “Y/N, I need you to show me the evidence Hongjoong mentioned. Whatever it is, it must be enough to convince me beyond doubt.”

You reached into your cloak, pulling out a stack of worn, yellowed letters tied together with a frayed ribbon. Your hands shook as you untied them, revealing the harsh, almost frenzied handwriting of your late husband. You could feel the Queen’s eyes on you, her gaze intense, as you stepped forward and placed the letters in her outstretched hand.

“These letters,” you said, struggling to keep your voice steady, “are from my deceased husband. In them, he admits to everything - his abuse, his threats, and… even his intent to kill me one day. They are his own words, Your Majesty. Written in moments of drunken rage, or cruel clarity. He was proud of what he did, and he never hid that from anyone. But he was also reckless, and he left these behind, never thinking they might be used against him.”

The Queen’s expression remained unreadable once again as she began to read the letters. The room was silent save for the sound of rustling paper. With each page she turned, you felt your heart pound louder, your hands clasping Hongjoong’s tighter.

After what felt like an eternity, the Queen looked up from the letters. Her gaze was more somber now, tinged with something that might have been pity, or perhaps understanding.

“These letters are indeed compelling,” she said slowly, “but it alone is not enough. The word of a dead man, though through his own admission, cannot fully clear your names. I need more.”

You hesitated, biting your lip. “Your Majesty,” you began, choosing your words carefully, “the whole town knew what was happening. They turned a blind eye, because… because they didn’t want to get involved. I don’t know if I can rely on their testimony. But… my parents, though they looked away for so long, showed great remorse before I fled. They knew what was happening, and they did nothing to stop it. I… though I can never reconcile with them, I have no choice but to trust them this one last time.”

The Queen’s gaze softened slightly as she regarded you. “And you believe they will speak the truth, even now?”

You nodded, though you felt a knot of uncertainty in your stomach. “Yes, Your Majesty. They have to.”

The Queen considered this for a long moment before nodding slowly. “Very well. I will send for your parents and have them brought here to testify. But… there's another thing you want to show me, right?”

You swallowed hard. The letters had made an impact, but the Queen needed more, something undeniable. Your heart raced as you prepared to reveal the evidence that you had hidden for so long, even from yourself.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” you replied, your voice trembling. “There is… one more thing I can show you.”

The Queen's eyes narrowed slightly. You hesitated, glancing at Hongjoong, who was watching you, his eyes telling more than words ever could. His presence gave you the strength to go on.

“My body bears the scars of my husband's cruelty,” you said quietly, “Scars that… tell the story of what he did to me.”

For a small second, something in her eyes flickered - perhaps sympathy, perhaps disgust at the thought of such brutality. But it disappeared as fast as it appeared, and she composed herself quickly. “Very well,” she said, her voice low and measured. “Show me.”

But before you could move, the Queen raised a hand to stop you. “Hongjoong,” she addressed him firmly, “you must wait outside. As you are not married, it would be inappropriate for you to remain here.”

Hongjoong looked like he wanted to protest, but he caught himself, understanding his words would make no impact. He nodded and gave you a reassuring look. “I’ll be right outside,” he said softly. “You’re not alone.”

You nodded, trying to offer him a smile. “Thank you, Hongjoong.”

As he was escorted out of the room, the Queen waited until the door closed before turning back to you. The room felt emptier without Hongjoong by your side, but you tried to stay calm nonetheless.

As he left the room, the Queen gestured to a few of her attendants, and a group of maids quickly approached. Your dress was elegant, more elaborate than you were used to, and you realized you would need help to reveal the scars that were hidden beneath its layers.

The maids moved with practiced efficiency, unfastening the intricate clasps and loosening the delicate fabric of your gown. You felt a wave of vulnerability wash over you as they carefully peeled back the layers, revealing the faint, jagged lines etched into your skin.

The Queen stepped closer, her gaze intense as she examined the marks. She didn’t speak, but her silence was heavy.

After a long moment, she stepped back, her eyes closing for a moment. “These scars… they cannot be ignored.” She turned to one of her attendants, a stern-looking guard who had been standing by the door. “Send for a scrivener,” she commanded. “These letters and the scars on her body must be documented.”

The man bowed and hurried out of the chamber, leaving you alone with the Queen and the maids, who carefully refastened your dress. The Queen’s eyes softened slightly as she looked at you. “Hongjoong has been a long confidante of mine, so naturally, he has my trust” she said, “But there is still a process that must be followed. The evidence will be recorded, and your parents and anyone else willing to testify will be brought before me. Until then, I must uphold the law.”

Once the scrivener arrived and began documenting the evidence, the Queen addressed you again. “You will be given quarters where you can rest,” she said, her tone kind but firm. “And I will ensure that you have everything you need until the trial begins. Be strong, Y/N. The truth will come to light.”

You bowed deeply. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

And with that, the Queen turned and left the chamber, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Now all you could do was wait.

“Y/N,” Hongjoong's voice reached you the moment you stepped into the tower room. But before you could even respond, you found yourself distracted by your surroundings. For a place meant to imprison you, the room was unexpectedly luxurious - far more so than anything you'd ever experienced. The walls were draped with rich tapestries and the bed was covered in soft linens. A large, plush rug covered the stone floor, and the air smelled faintly of lavender.

You paused, blinking in surprise at the sight. This was supposed to be your prison? It surely made you feel out of place, like it belonged to a royal guest chamber rather than a cell.

"Are you alright?" Hongjoong’s voice broke through your thoughts, concern etched in his features as he took a step closer to you. But before you could answer, the door behind you creaked open again, and a small group of maids entered.

“Your bath is ready, my lady,” one of them said with a polite bow, her voice soft yet firm. “Please, come with us.”

My lady?

You looked at Hongjoong, startled and confused. He gave you an encouraging nod, though he looked just as confused as you.

“Go on,” he said gently. “I’ll be here when you’re done.”

Reluctantly, you allowed the maids to lead you away, down a small corridor that connected to an adjoining room. The room was even more elaborate, with a large copper tub set in the center, already filled with steaming water that scented the air with rose petals and herbs. Thick, fluffy towels were neatly stacked nearby, and a selection of fine soaps and oils were arranged on a small table besides.

They helped you quickly undress and step into the bath. The warm water immediately melted away the tension from your muscles. As they poured fragrant oils into the water, your eyes closed and you sank deeper into the water. The maids worked in silence, their hands gentle as they washed your hair and scrubbed your skin with fine soaps. Eventually, the bath was over, and you were lifted from the water, wrapped in a thick, warm towel. The maids dried you off and led you to a big mirror where they brushed your hair and dressed you in a white nightgown that felt impossibly soft against your skin.

Once they were done, they stepped back, quietly observing you. You glanced at your reflection in the mirror, almost not recognizing yourself. The nightgown was simple yet elegant, the white fabric almost transparent against your skin. It flowed down to your ankles, delicate lace trimming the neckline and sleeves. It made you look delicate and almost… sensual.

Still deep in thought, you were guided back to the main room where Hongjoong was waiting. As you stepped into the room, you saw him pacing near the window, lost in thought. The moment he heard your footsteps, he turned around, and his breath hitched in his throat when he saw you.

For a long, long moment, he simply stared at you, his eyes wide as they traveled over your figure. His usual calm and collected demeanor seemed to crumble as a faint blush colored his cheeks. He quickly looked away, his jaw tightening as he struggled to maintain his composure.

“You-” Hongjoong began, his voice strained as he took a step closer, his gaze flicking back to you before quickly averting again. “You look… beautiful.” His words were quiet, and you could see the internal battle playing out within him as he tried to keep his emotions in check.

You could see the way his eyes darkened whenever he sneaked a glance at you, something that made your heart skip a beat. His fingers twitched as if he wanted to reach out and touch you but was holding himself back. The air between you was thick with unspoken tension.

Hongjoong cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure, but the way he avoided your gaze told you that he was struggling. “I… I didn't mean to stare,” he muttered, his voice rougher than usual. "I just… You-”

You took a step closer. Hongjoong's eyes snapped to yours, and for a moment, you saw a flash of something raw and intoxicating in his expression - something that sent a shiver down your spine, something that made your mouth dry and your heart beat faster.

“Hongjoong,” you said softly, the sound of his name breaking the silence that had settled between you. “I'm fine. You can-”

“Sir, your bath is prepared as well,” one of the maids said with a polite bow. “Please allow us to assist you.”

Hongjoong stiffened slightly at the offer, clearly taken aback. “Uh, that's not necessary,” he stammered, his usual confidence faltering as a blush crept up his neck. “I can manage on my own.”

The maid, seemingly unfazed, simply nodded. “Of course, sir. But if you require anything, we will be right outside.” With that, she and the others gracefully exited the room, leaving the two of you alone once more.

Hongjoong let out a quiet sigh of relief, running a hand through his hair as he glanced back at you. “Well, I suppose I should... take that bath now,” he said.

You nodded, offering him a small smile. “I'll wait here,” you said softly, trying to ease the tension in the room.

He stood there for another moment, as if he wanted to say something more, but instead, he simply gave you a nod before retreating into the bathroom. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Desperately, you tried to distract yourself from the fact that the man of your dreams was completely bare just a few feet away. But just after a few minutes, you had to admit that it was pointless, and so, your feet took you to the bathroom once again.

You hesitated outside the door, your heart pounding in your chest. You knew this was a bad idea, that you were crossing a line, but curiosity got the better of you. Slowly, you pushed the door open just enough to slip inside.

Hongjoong was sitting in the tub, his back to the door, the water lapping gently around his figure. Steam filled the room, the scent of the same herbs and soaps you previously used in the air. His head was slightly bowed, his eyes closed, and he seemed lost in thought, completely unaware of your presence.

For a moment, you just stood there, silently watching him. His usually sharp features were entirely relaxed, his shoulders sacked as he soaked in the water. You couldn’t help but admire the way the droplets clung to his skin, the way the muscles in his back moved with each breath he took.

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you silently crossed the room. The soft pads of your feet made no noise on the stone floor as you approached the tub. Without thinking, you reached for a cloth that was hanging nearby, dipping it into the warm water.

He still hadn’t noticed you as you knelt beside the tub. Your hand hovered for a moment before you gathered the courage to press the cloth gently against his back.

Hongjoong stiffened immediately, his eyes snapping open as he realized someone was there. He turned his head sharply, his eyes wide as he met your gaze.

“Y/N?” His voice was breathless, and he immediately tried to shield his naked body from you. “What are you doing?”

You bit your lip, trying to fight back the blush that was creeping up your cheeks. “I thought… I thought I’d help you relax,” you said softly, your voice trembling with nerves.

Hongjoong’s gaze flicked down to the cloth in your hand and then back to your face. His expression was unreadable, but you could see the way his breathing had quickened, the way his muscles tensed under your touch.

“Y/N… you don’t have to…” He trailed off, his voice faltering as you began to gently scrub his back, your movements slow and careful. You could feel the tension in his body slowly melting away under your touch.

He let out a shaky breath, his head dropping forward again as he allowed himself to relax. “You don't have to do this,” he murmured, though he didn't sound entirely convinced either.

You smiled a little, continuing your work, the cloth gliding over his skin in soothing circles. “Maybe not,” you whispered, “but I wanted to.”

Hongjoong’s breathing was uneven, each exhale shaky as you worked your way across his shoulders, the cloth tracing the lines of his muscles. You could see the way his body tensed, his fists clenching against the edge of the tub as if he was trying to control himself.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, almost pleading. “W-we should really stop… I-”

You gently pressed a finger against his lips, silencing him almost instantly. “Hongjoong,” you whispered, “I want to… I’m ready.”

His eyes found yours, wide with surprise and something else - something deeper. His gaze searched yours, as if he was trying to find any hint of uncertainty, any reason to stop this before it went too far.

But you didn’t waver. You had been through so much, had faced so many demons from your past, and now, standing here with him, you felt a sense of clarity you hadn’t in a long time. You wanted this, wanted him - wanted to break down the walls you had built so carefully around your heart.

Slowly, you leaned in closer, your breath mingling with his as you pressed a soft kiss to his temple. His eyes fluttered shut at the contact, a shiver running through his body. You could feel his resistance, the way he fought to hold himself back, but there was also something in the way he leaned into your touch, a silent plea for more.

Your lips traveled from his temple to his ear, brushing against the sensitive skin as you whispered, “I know you try to hold yourself back for my sake. But I’m not scared, Joongie. Not anymore.”

Hongjoong’s eyes were locked on yours, the intensity in his gaze making your breath hitch. Without breaking eye contact, he stood, water cascading off his naked, sculpted body, droplets glistening on his skin in the soft, dim light of the room.

Before you could say anything, his arms wrapped around you, lifting you effortlessly from where you stood. Your breath caught in your throat as he pulled you close, his wet skin soaking through your clothes as he carried you out the room.

He reached the bed and gently laid you down on the soft sheets, the fabric cool against your heated skin. You looked up at him, your heart racing as he knelt beside you, droplets of water still clinging to his skin, his hair damp and falling into his eyes. He was completely bare, his body on full display, and yet his focus was entirely on you.

Slowly, he leaned down, his lips brushing against yours in a slow, passionate kiss. His hand slid up your side, fingers grazing your ribs, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. The kiss deepened, his tongue teasing yours, fighting your own in a battle of dominance you quickly lost.

Hongjoong’s hand moved under your gown, and with a gentle tug, he began to lift it, his fingertips brushing against your skin as he pulled it over your head. The cool air hit your newly exposed skin, making you shiver, but the heat of his gaze warmed you instantly. He paused for a moment, taking in the sight of you, his eyes so full of love and lust it made you ache.

“You’re so, so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. He leaned in again, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving soft, lingering kisses as he made his way to your collarbone. Each kiss sent a jolt of electricity through you, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you felt him explore your body with his lips, his hands, his entire being.

He moved lower, his hands sliding over your skin, slowly. You shivered under his touch, your hands gripping the sheets as you tried to steady yourself, your heart pounding in your chest.

His hands moved delicately, tracing the lines of your body, exploring every curve, every dip, every inch of your skin. He was in no rush, savoring it all; every moment, every touch, every breath you took. The way he looked at you, the way he touched you, it was as if he was worshiping you, as if you were the most precious thing in the world to him.

“Y/N,” he whispered against your lips, his voice shaky, filled with emotion. “I want this to be perfect for you… for us.”

You reached up, cupping his face in your hands, your eyes meeting his with a soft, reassuring smile. “It already is,” you murmured, your voice filled with the same emotion you saw reflected in his eyes. “You make everything perfect for me, Joongie.”

He smiled, a tender, almost shy smile that made your heart flutter. “I’ve wanted this for so long… wanted you for so long,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper as he pressed his forehead against yours.

“I know,” you whispered back, your fingers brushing through his damp hair. “I’ve wanted this too… I’ve wanted you.”

His breath caught in his throat, his eyes darkening with something deeper, more intense. “I’m scared… of hurting you,” he admitted, his voice trembling slightly. “Of moving too fast.”

You shook your head gently, your hands moving to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palm. “You could never hurt me,” you assured him softly. “I trust you, Hongjoong. I’m ready… because I know these hands of yours could never hurt me like he did.”

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he tried to steady himself. When he opened them again, they were filled with an intensity that took your breath away. “I want to love you… properly, Y/N.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with love and adoration for the man above you. “Then love me, Hongjoong,” you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation. “Love me the way you’ve always wanted to. Make me yours.”

He chuckled, before slowly lowering himself into you. “Silly woman. You've been mine the moment I met you.”

If anyone would've told you you'd ever see your parents on their knees, begging for mercy in front of you, you would've laughed right in their face.

But here you were. Witnessing it at this very moment.

Well, technically it wasn't in front of you - but the Queen, who was looking at them with intense, cold eyes.

You stood to the side, Hongjoong right beside you, close enough to witness every detail, yet far enough to keep the emotional distance you needed to not break down in tears.

The Queen's voice cut through the silence. “You have been called before the court to deliver your testimony. If you lie, it will have severe consequences,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “We have gathered here today because a man was killed. Without any evidence or witness testimony, it was decided that Kim Hongjoong was the one responsible and would be hanged for it. Now, after careful investigation, I and everyone else here is fairly confident that this is not what happened. The man who died abused his wife L/N Y/N for close to a decade. And everyone supposedly knew. On the night of the alleged crime, it is to be assumed he came home to beat her once again. Kim Hongjoong was just there at the wrong time. Y/N had to kill her husband in self defense to protect the both of them,” the Queen continued.

The whole room was deadly silent. Only the occasional sobs of your mother could be heard.

“Now I ask of you to truthfully answer my questions”, she said, looking at your parents directly, “is it true that you knew your daughter was getting abused?”

The silence that followed the Queen's question was suffocating, each second stretching into an eternity. Your father kept his gaze fixed on the floor, his hands trembling slightly as he knelt beside your mother.

You remembered the last time you saw him. The moment where he apologized, where you saw the pain in his eyes. But would he also admit to his faults in public?

The Queen's eyes bore into them. She was not just asking for a simple answer; she was demanding the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. And there was no escaping it.

Your father was the first to speak, his voice barely above a whisper, rough and strained. “We… we knew,” he confessed, the words stumbling out of him like a boulder finally giving way to gravity. “We knew what was happening, Your Majesty.”

A collective gasp rippled through the courtroom, but you remained still, your heart pounding in your chest as the truth you had been denied for so long was finally laid bare. Your mother’s sobs grew louder, her hands covering her face as if to shield herself from the reality of what was happening.

The Queen’s gaze did not waver. “And yet, you did nothing to help her?” she pressed, her tone hardening. “You allowed your daughter to suffer for years, without lifting a finger to protect her? Knowing that one day she could possibly be killed?”

Your mother finally lifted her head, her face streaked with tears. “We… we were afraid,” she stammered, her voice shaking with emotion. “We didn’t know what to do… We thought… we thought it would be worse if we intervened.”

A bitter taste filled your mouth as you listened to their excuses. They had left you to fend for yourself in a nightmare, and had turned their backs on you when you needed them the most.

Even after you tried for months, years to come to terms with their betrayal, it still hurt deeply.

The Queen narrowed her eyes, but her expression gave nothing away. “You thought it would be worse?” she repeated, “Worse than watching your daughter endure unimaginable suffering? Worse than allowing her to be beaten, night after night, while you did nothing?”

Your mother’s tears flowed uncontrollably now, her sobs wracking her body as she nodded, unable to form any coherent response. Your father remained silent, his head hanging low, as if the weight of his guilt was too much to bear.

The Queen’s gaze flicked to you for a moment, her expression softening just slightly as she took in the sight of you standing there, silent and strong beside Hongjoong.

This wasn't the first time you saw that expression on her face, and for a second you were left wondering if, maybe, she understood your pain. Really understood.

From woman to woman, from victim to victim.

“Your Majesty,” your father spoke again, his voice hoarse with emotion. “We… we failed her. We know that now. We were wrong, and we are deeply sorry.”

For a second, his eyes found yours. And though you knew you could never forgive them, you saw nothing but love and guilt in your father's eyes.

Maybe in another life, where you as a woman would have more rights, you all could have been a happy, normal family.

Maybe.

“But… There is one last thing I want to do for my daughter,” he whispered. “Your Majesty, if I may…?”

Her gaze flicked towards you. You clutched Hongjoong’s hands tighter, before giving her a final nod.

“Go on,” she said.

Your father hesitated for a moment, gathering his courage, before speaking again. “I brought them here, Your Majesty,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion. “The rest of the people who stayed quiet. I brought all of them here today.”

The Queen raised an eyebrow, her gaze flicking between your father and you. The courtroom seemed to hold its breath, waiting for her decision. Your eyes widened and you immediately felt a lump form in your throat.

Finally, the Queen nodded, “Bring them in.”

She turned towards the grand double doors at the back of the room, and with a slight motion of her hand, the guards opened them. One by one, a dozen people began to file in, their faces pale and solemn. You recognized each one of them - neighbors, former friends, even the local shopkeepers who had all turned a blind eye to your bruises and hushed cries for help. They looked as though they were walking to their own execution, eyes downcast, hands desperately clutching their clothes.

As they entered, they arranged themselves in a line before you, and then, as if guided by an unspoken command, they all began to bow. The sight of it - the people who had once ignored your pain now bowing before you, in front of the Queen herself - struck you like a blow to the heart.

You tightened your grip on Hongjoong’s hand, your breath hitching as the overwhelming weight of the moment began to settle over you. Tears welled up in your eyes, and no matter how much you tried to hold them back, they eventually began to spill over, silently tracing lines down your cheeks. Hongjoong’s hand remained warm and steady in yours, his presence grounding you as you struggled to process the scene before you.

Slowly, an elderly woman who had been your neighbor for years, stepped forward. Her voice trembled as she spoke. “Y/N… we have no excuse for what we did, or rather, what we didn’t do. We failed you, just as your parents did. We saw the signs, but we chose to look away, to pretend it wasn’t our business. And for that… we are truly sorry.”

As everyone in line took their turn to speak, offering their apologies, their regrets, and their shame, the emotions you had been holding back for so long finally broke free. You wept openly now, the sound of your sobs filling the otherwise silent courtroom. These were the apologies you had never expected to hear, the recognition of your suffering that had been denied to you for so many years.

Hongjoong wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close, and you leaned into him, burying your face in his neck. The tears kept coming, and you let them.

After each person spoke to you, they all remained bowed, waiting for your response. The Queen, too, seemed to be waiting, her gaze fixed on you.

You took a shaky breath, wiping your tears with the back of your hand as you tried to find the right words. But there were no words that could truly capture the enormity of what you were feeling. So instead, you simply nodded, acknowledging their apologies once and for all.

“Thank you,” you managed to whisper, your voice raw and hoarse. “Thank you for saying what I needed to hear… even if it’s too late.”

There was a collective sigh of relief from the crowd, but the weight of the moment still pressed down heavily on you. The Queen stepped forward, her presence immediately commanding everyone's attention. “You have all acknowledged your failings here today,” she said, “A man has died, and even if Y/N pulled the trigger, everyone here knows that at the end of the day, she remains an innocent woman. A woman who had to save herself because no one else did.”

As her final words settled over the courtroom, you felt a deep, heavy relief wash over you. The people who had failed you had spoken their apologies, and though it could never erase the pain you endured, the recognition of your suffering soothed your wounded soul.

Hongjoong kept a protective arm around you as you walked outside. The air outside the courtroom was crisp, the world feeling both too small and too vast after what had just happened. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, when you heard a familiar voice calling your name.

“Y/N!”

You turned just in time to see your sister Miyeon rushing towards you, tears already streaming down her face. Her belly was still slightly rounded from her recent pregnancy, and in her arms, she cradled her newborn, your tiny niece or nephew, who was bundled up warmly against her chest.

Miyeon threw her arms around you, careful not to hurt her child, pulling you into a tight embrace as she sobbed uncontrollably. “I’m so sorry,” she choked out between sobs, her voice filled with guilt and anguish. “I didn’t know... I didn’t know everything that was happening. If I had known, I would have been there for you. I should have been there for you!”

You held her tightly, your own tears spilling over once more as you buried your face in her shoulder. “Miyeon, it’s okay,” you whispered, even as your voice trembled. “I know you would’ve helped me if you could. You were far away, and you had no idea. You were also preparing to be a mother… I never wanted to burden you with my pain.”

“But you’re my sister,” she cried, pulling back to look at you with red, puffy eyes. “I should have been here. I should have done something, anything, to protect you. How could I have let this happen to you?”

You shook your head. “You couldn’t have known, Miyeon. None of this was your fault. I don’t blame you, not even for a second.”

Before you could respond, her husband, Gikwang, who had been standing a few steps behind her, joined the two of you. His expression was filled with compassion and guilt as he handed you a small, trembling bundle. “We… we brought something for you,” he said gently. “One of Hongjoong’s neighbors found him in his house and thought you’d want him back.”

Your breath caught in your throat as he placed the tiny, trembling creature in your arms.

“Benji!” you cried out.

The moment he was in your arms, the dam you had been holding back broke entirely. You clutched him to you, your sobs echoing through the quiet corridor as you cried even harder than you just moments before.

Hongjoong stood beside you, his hand on your back, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears as he watched you cradle Benji. Miyeon wrapped her arms around both you and Benji, and for a long, long while, you simply stood there, the three of you wrapped in a comforting embrace. As you finally pulled back, wiping your tears away, you looked at Miyeon and Hongjoong, then down at Benji, who was now purring softly in your arms, and also at Gikwang and their newborn child.

With a trembling but genuine smile, you whispered, "Thank you, Miyeon. Thank you for being here. And thank you for bringing him back to me."

Miyeon nodded, her own smile breaking through her tears. "I’ll always be here for you, Y/N. No matter what. You and I will keep in contact, right? You'll come visit me and I'll visit you, right? And… and you and Hongjoong will be happy together, right?”

As you wiped the last of your tears away, you gave Miyeon a firm nod. “Yes,” you replied, your voice steady for the first time in what felt like an eternity. “We will keep in contact. I’ll visit you, and you can come visit us. And yes… Hongjoong and I will be happy together. We’ll find a way to move forward.”

Miyeon smiled through her tears, her grip on her newborn tightening slightly as she nodded back. “Good,” she whispered, her voice full of emotion. “That’s all I want for you, Y/N. To be happy. You deserve that more than anything.”

Gikwang placed a reassuring hand on his wife's shoulder. “You’re strong, Y/N,” he said softly. “And even if your parents and Jisoo aren't included, you have us that care about you, no matter how far apart we may be.”

You took a long, deep breath before looking down at Benji, who was still purring contentedly in your arms, then up at Hongjoong, who met your gaze with a look of unwavering support and love.

“Let’s go,” Hongjoong murmured, his hand gently squeezing yours. “It’s time to head home.”

You nodded. Turning back to your sister, you reached out and gave her one last, lingering hug. “I’ll see you soon,” you promised, “until then, take care. And also of your bab-”

“Jihoon. His name is Jihoon,” she whispered, carefully cradling the baby in her arms.

You smiled warmly at her and her child. “Take care of Jihoon too, okay?”

With that, you and Hongjoong turned and began to walk away, Benji still cradled safely in your arms.

“Hey, Joongie?” you asked.

“Hm?”

“Do you think Django is doing well?

He laughed. “Oh, I know he is. That damn goat is probably terrorizing the whole town by now.”

My Dearest Husband,

I hope this letter finds you well and you are not too weary from your travels. Though I'm proud the Queen has once again asked for one of your dresses, the house feels a little quieter without you here, though Miyeon, Gikwang, and little Jihoon are doing their best to fill the void. You wouldn’t believe how much he’s grown since you last saw him – he’s already running around like he owns the place. God, I’ve had to take more breaks than usual chasing after him. I’m sure you can guess why.

Miyeon has been a great help, though, and Gikwang even managed to fix the squeaky gate that’s been bothering you for months. We spent yesterday walking along the shore, Jihoon squealing with delight every time the waves came in. It made me think of how much you would’ve enjoyed the sight with him together. The sea is as beautiful as ever, though not nearly as beautiful as it is when I get to share it with you.

Oh, our little shop is thriving more than I could’ve imagined. Your teachings on sewing have paid off wonderfully, and the people can’t seem to get enough of the dresses I make. I'm so honored, though I still try and convince them yours are so much better. They keep saying how elegant the stitching is and how there’s something special about each piece. I always smile and tell them it’s because they were made with love – a love you taught me with every thread and needle. Though I do admit, I’ve had to slow down a bit these days. The shop misses you, too, but it’s running smoothly, and I can’t wait for you to see how well it's been going.

I know you were worried about leaving me alone, but honestly, my love, you overthink too much. I think you forget sometimes just how capable I am. I may be waddling more than walking at this point, but I can still manage just fine, especially with Miyeon here to keep an eye on me. But I can’t help but smile when I think about how you’re already fretting over our little one, even before she’s born. You and your little princess – I can just see it now, the way you’ll spoil her rotten with all those tiny dresses you’ve been making. If she’s anything like her father, she’ll be quite the charmer, and I can’t wait to see you two together, hand in hand, as you show her the world.

She’s been kicking more these past few days, and it hurts like crazy. I can't wait to finally meet her. I’m already dreaming of the day when we’ll finally get to meet her. I know you’re just as eager as I am – I can see it in the way you smile whenever you talk about her. Our little princess. I think she knows, too, because she always seems to calm down when I think about you.

So, my love, don’t worry too much about us. We’re safe, happy, and counting down the days until you’re back home. The sea is waiting, the shop is thriving, and most importantly, your little family is here, eagerly anticipating your return. I’ll keep everything running smoothly until you’re back – though I must admit, I’m looking forward to resting when our little one decides it’s time to make her grand entrance.

Take care of yourself, and don’t let business keep you away for too long. We miss you dearly.

With all my love,

Your Wife

159 notes · View notes

kpop---scenarios · 2 months ago

Text

Words Unspoken (1)

Pairing: Lee Know x Reader

Warning: A little angst, some hurt, more in other chapters

Summary: You and Lee Know used to be best friends, but after an issue, you weren't. 6 years later, he's back in your life and you hate it.

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: big thank you to @pali-writes-atiny-bit for all your help with this one!!

Everything Taglist: @wife2straykidss @piscesrising01 @baby-stay92 @kisses-too-the-moon

@dwaekkiiracha @silly250 @rylea08 @imperfectlyperfectprincess1

@satosugu4l @gabriellamarie @tsunderelino @iovecb97

@1810cl @lordmaahes-nsc @sailorkoss @minh0scat @pixie0627

@50-husbands @jinnies-muse @yaorzu-blog @anskiiz @joyofbebbanburg

@number1jeonginstan @skzooluvr @jisunglyricist @ambersnowxxx

@ayyonoona @31maze13 @stay-tiny-things @thegingerthatwaited @hoesheez

“Abso-fucking-lutely not.” You deadpan, your eyes twitch, as you glare at your editor. She sighs as she adjusts her stance, poking her hip out a little, crossing her arms.

“Are you really going to argue with me over what you're assigned too?” She asks. “You write about celebrities, he's a celebrity. What's the issue?”

“Yes, I do write about celebrities, but this particular one I will not write about. I just can't. I guarantee he will even talk to me. He hates me!” You explain. She looks at you with that unimpressed look. “And I'm also just not a fan of his music.” You yell, throwing your hands up in the air. You can't even find the right words to express to her how much you didn't want to see him and have to write this article. Although you shouldn't be panicking, he would never talk to you. Hell, it had been 6 years since you'd last seen or talked to him.

“Well, I'm sorry Y/N but you not being a fan isn't a good enough reason for you to not do this interview. He's the hottest artist right now and I want that exclusive.” She says, glancing at her watch. “You better hurry. You've only got an hour to make it to the Cafe.” She grins, walking back into her office, sliding the door closed.

You fake cry and whimper as you throw your head back, stomping your foot like a child. God dammit.

“Y/N.. this might be a good thing. You can maybe clear the air?” Han asks, popping his head out from behind his cubicle.

“There's nothing to clear, Han. He did what he did and I did what I did and that's that.” You sigh, gathering your belongings.

“YN. It's been 6 years. Don't you think it's time?” He asks.

“Do you still talk to him?” You ask.

Han’s eyes darted around the room, avoiding your question.

You roll your eyes. The betrayal you felt. “Ouch.” You whimper, placing your hand over your heart. “That stings, Jisung. I thought I got custody of you in the end.” You say, walking to the front door. you can hear him behind you scrambling to stand up.

“Jisung!?” He yells. “You only call me Jisung when you're mad at me! Are you? Are you mad at me? Y/N!” He yells even louder as you walk out the door.

45 minutes later you're sitting at a table, your legs crossed, your foot shaking as you wait for Lee Know. Your fingers tap the cup of coffee that you hadn’t even taken a sip of.

“Oh fuck no.” You hear. You look up and see a very unimpressed Lee Know.

“I feel the same.” You say, crinkling your nose and rolling your eyes at him. “Believe me, I tried to get out of this.”

“Clearly you didn't try hard enough. You know what? I'll make this easier on both of us, I'm not doing this interview unless it's with someone else.” He deadpans.

“I'll call my editor.”

You pull out your phone dialing her number before putting the phone on speaker, placing it on the table in front of you.

“I swear to god Y/N..if this is you complaining about him..” she starts.

“Mrs. Shin, you're on speaker phone and he can hear you.” You start. She stops talking. “He's refusing to do the interview with me.”

“I don't believe that. You're wonderful and a great journalist. Stop making things up.” She scoffs.

“She's not making it up. I will not do it with her. You have to send someone else.” He interrupts.

“What the hell have you done to each other to hate each other so much?” she sighs.

Your mind travels back to the past. 10th grade and you had gotten your first boyfriend. Park Chanyeol. He was everything you had ever dreamed of in a man. Tall, handsome, funny, sweet, not to mention he was one of the most popular guys in your school, and he had asked you out.

Even though you were fairly popular, a lot of people knew you but you didn't feel like it. You felt like a fraud even when you were being your authentic self. It was almost as if your life was a movie and you were playing the role of someone else. You shook all that off once you got with Chanyeol. He seemed to bring out the best in you and all your friends were so happy for you.

Until they weren't and he started bringing out the worst in you.

“Okay, Y/N. It’s time for the truth, honestly. What the fuck is going on with you?” Chan asks. You sit on the couch in the basement of his parents house, surrounded by your closest friends.

“What are you talking about?” You ask, trying to force yourself to laugh. You hoped it sounded real but you knew it didn't.

“You look terrified all the time, the circles under your eyes are awful, You're jumping at every turn.” Seungmin sighs.

“Not to mention you look like you're about to burst into tears constantly.” Jisung pouts.

You knew they cared about you and you knew that you should tell them. But you didn't know if you could. Things with Chanyeol were good, when they were good. But as of late, things had mostly been bad. It seemed like you couldn't do anything right for him and he'd stand there and scream at you for hours, telling you how shitty of a person you were, how ugly you were and how much of a slut you were apparently. And the saddest part of it was his parents would see you on your knees, crying and pleading for him to stop and they would walk away and pretend not to see anything. If you walked around with bruises on your arms around them, they ignored it. They enabled him because they were scared of him. You knew that now but not back then. Back then you thought that it was love and you thought that you deserved it. So you put up with it, everyday, only trying to be better for Chanyeol. You just wanted his approval and love. Sometimes he would give it to you, and he would be the boy you fell in love with but once he got into one of his moods, or accused you of something that was the end of it. He was back to ignoring you, belittling you, doing everything he wasn't supposed to do.

Until one day it stopped.

Chanyeol wouldn't look at you, he wouldn't talk to you. He stopped returning your phone calls, he stopped replying to your texts. It was like he ghosted you but you still saw him at school. He acted like your relationship Never even happened, like you were nothing to him. So you made a plan to confront him. You watched him walk into the bathroom and you followed him. There was nothing he could do now. He couldn't run away from you.

“Why are you ignoring me?” You ask, arms crossed. Chanyeol jumps, turning around to face you.

“What the fuck are you doing in here?” He snaps.

“What did I do now? Why aren't you talking to me?” You ask.

“Because I'm done with you. It's over. Leave me the fuck alone.” He says.

You didn't like that answer. And you could tell that he didn't care. “I don't want it to be over.” You whisper. “I love you.”

“I don't give a fuck what you want. Fuck off.” He snaps, moving past you and out of the bathroom. Leaving you trembling, trying desperately not to cry.

Why weren't you good enough for him?

You walk out of the bathroom, seeing Minho talking to Chanyeol at the lockers. You had come out only to hear the last of Minho's sentence.

“She's pathetic, right?” Minho asks.

You stare at him. “What?” You ask.

Minho turns to look at you. “That's not…” he pauses.

“That's what you think of me?” You ask, sniffling. “Nice.” You murmur, turning to walk away. He doesn't try to stop you. He doesn't care. He thinks you're pathetic? Then fuck him. But you couldn't let him get away with it. Not now. You turned back around, storming up to him.

“You think I'm pathetic? I've done nothing but support you and your dreams! I can't believe you think so lowly of me after everything I've done for you. You're a real piece of shit, and an even worse friend. At this rate you're no better than Chanyeol. Don't ever talk to me again!” You scream, tears streaming down your face. Your heart was shattered. Chanyeol, yeah that hurt but Minho? Who was supposed to be one of your closest friends? That fucking shattered you. And from that day, you and Minho did not talk. You wanted nothing to do with him and you had nothing to do with him and assumed he wanted the same. You avoided him at all costs, and eventually lost touch with a few of the other guys. The one two you remained close with was Jisung, who you worked with and Felix, who lived with you and Jisung. The rest of them, you had no idea what their lives had turned out like. And that made you sad.

“It doesn't matter, it was years ago. He doesn't want to do the interview with me. So can you send someone else?” You ask.

“Can he stick around for an hour to wait for someone?” Mrs. Shin asks.

“I'm a busy man. No I can't.” Minho answers.

“Y/N, we need this interview.” Mrs. Shin tries to whisper. But Minho hears and rolls his eyes.

“I'll come to your office tomorrow. But I want a different journalist.” Minho says.

“Yes, Okay you got it. Thank you, Minho.” She says, way happier than when she talks to you.

“Yeah.” He grumbles, turning around to walk away.

You scoff. “Still an asshole, I see.” You say to yourself as you pack up your belongings. You grumble to yourself as you walk towards the train station, to make the 45 minute journey back to your office.

When you do return, Han stands there with a coffee in his hand and a smile on his face. “For you, my most favorite Y/N in the world.” He smiles, handing the coffee to you.

“I'm the only Y/N you know.” You say, giving him the side eye.

“How was it with Minho?” Han asks.

“How do you think it went?” You ask. “He refused to do the interview with me.” You say.

“Seriously?” Han says. “What even happened between the two of you?” He asks. “Neither of you will say much about it.”

“And I still won’t. Sorry, Han. It's in the past and I'm not trying to relive it.” You say. “He's coming to the office tomorrow to do the interview with someone. Whoever that is, I have no idea but good luck to them.” You say, taking a sip of your coffee before sitting back at your desk, trying to focus on your work. But unfortunately you could only think about the past. Sometimes you miss him. You missed his friendship, his hugs, his warmth, but you were still hurt by what he said and the way he didn't give a fuck about it. You tried to not either but that was easier said than done.

“You okay?” Han asks, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“Huh? Oh, yeah I'm good.” You say, picking up your phone, reading a text. “Felix wants to meet for drinks.” You say, looking up at Han.

“I could drink.” He says, walking back to his desk. You send a quick message to Felix letting him know you guys would meet him there before you began packing up your things. This was just what you needed to forget this shitty day.

A few minutes later, you and Han are walking out of the office, heading towards the train to head over to the bar.

“How was your day?” Felix asks, taking a sip of his beer.

“You'll never guess who I was face to face with today.” You say, sipping your cocktail.

“Mr. Lee Minho.” Felix smiles.

“How'd you know?” You ask, a little shocked.

“He texted me.” Felix says, shrugging his shoulders.

“What? What did he say?” You ask.

“He just said that you were the one who was supposed to interview him.” Felix says.

“What else?”

“That he refused to do it with you.”

“Yes he did. I didn't even want to do it in the first place but I was forced to.” You groan, dropping your head into your hands. “Why did it have to be him?”

“Do you know how many people are trying to get literally anything from him? You guys are lucky he's even coming down to your office to do it. He turned every other company down.” Felix explains.

“Then why this company? Why would he choose the one Han and I work at?” You ask.

“Han. You wanna take this one?” Felix asks, looking over at the quiet man.

“I um… might have asked him…as a favor.” Han smiles.

“Jisung.” You murmur.

“Not the Jisung again! I was just trying to help! This interview could really boost our credibility!” He says. “We needed something big.” He says.

“I mean I can't blame you for that. It just sucks. But now no more talking about him. Felix, how was your day?” You ask, trying to change the subject, and thankfully it worked. But only for a little bit, as you continued to drink, your inhibitions were lowered, leaving you feeling slightly vulnerable. What sober you didn't want to talk about, drunk you was ready to spill some of the tea.

“You think I'm pathetic?” You scoff. “You're fucking pathetic.” You sigh loudly. “Does he still think that?”

“What are you talking about, Y/N?” Felix asks, looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

“What does it matter?” You slur. “It's been 6 years… who cares anymore. Not me!” You mumble.

“Y/N, are you talking about Minho?” Han asks, glancing over at Felix who was wondering the same thing.

“Who wants to talk about Minho?” You ask. “Not me.” You pout. “I just… I just wanna know why.” You whimper. “Did he always think that? Why was our friendship so fucking easy to give up on?” You sniffle. You can feel the tears welling up in your eyes and you didn't want to cry.

“I've been fine for 6 goddamn years. I'm not going to start this now. Let's drink!” You yell.

“Maybe we should call it a night?” Han asks.

“I think that's a good idea.” Felix laughs, placing some cash on the table.

“You're a good idea.” You murmur as Han helps you up, wrapping his arm around you to help you walk. “I'm sleepy.” You yawn, making Han and Felix laugh.

You slept well that night, and remembered nothing in the morning time.

“Y/N, good morning.” Mrs. Shin smiles at you. You hold your head, sunglasses covering your bloodshot eyes. You felt like a bag of shit and you just wanted to go home and go back to bed but you unfortunately were an adult who needed to do adult things.

“Morning.” You croak. She looks at you concerned but you just wave her off. You're not in the mood to talk about it right now. You sit down at your desk, putting your head down on the desk, groaning, loudly.

“Y/N… I need you to sit in on an interview today.” Mrs. Shin says, leaning against your desk.

“But why?” You groan.

“It's one of the newbies. That's the only person I had available for this interview.” She says.

“I could have done it.” You say, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“No you couldn't have.” She says. “It's Lee Minho. And he's going to be here in 10 minutes.” She says.

“What makes you think he's gonna say shit when I'm in the room?” You ask.

“Technically you're not doing the interview.” She smiles. “So it shouldn't be a problem for you to just supervise, right?”

“Oh my god.” You groan. This was it. This was your fucking nightmare and you had absolutely no way out of it.

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palindrome969 · 8 months ago

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Nat is definitely an inspiration. But we don't love you and your blog any less just because you don't have pretty pictures.

People make their blogs and posts so pretty, and I'm just sitting here in my corner with my ugly posts. Jesus christ...

#❤️ pali #but like if you want pretty pictures #and have any idea of what you'd want #we cab probably make it happen #pali-writes-atiny-bit has images i made too #it can be fun to play around so hit me up if you want

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mirohs-aurora-society · 6 months ago

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Our Authors

Headmasters

✧.* @ghxstwrites - Ghost she/her

✧.* @bunnliix - Lixie any pronouns

Students

✧.* @bethelighthalazia - Kat she/they ✧.* @rems-writing - Rem she/they ✧.* @pali-writes-atiny-bit - Pali she/her

✧.* @potatomountain - Doom she/they

✧.* @dinossaurz - Sarah she/her

✧.* @skzdust - Stardust they/them

✧.* @yourlocaljonghoe - Minerva she/her

✧.* @skteezcursed - Yaya she/her

✧.* @kpop---scenarios - Bee she/her

✧.* @jisungchan - Nephele she/they

#mirohsaurorasociety #our authors and admins

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palindrome969 · 8 months ago

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Intro | About Me

Hi there. I'm Hannah/Pali/Palindrome.

Thanks for stopping by my blog! This is my primary blog in which I reblog my favorite works and authors.

I write under @pali-writes-atiny-bit, but I'm slow to post. I'd appreciate it if you took a look.

For all intents and purposes, all works written or rebloggedwill be 🔞 NSFW. Minors please do not interact for your safety and mine.

Moots | Personal Tags

A non-comprehensive list of some of my favorite people. Thank you for being my friends and being my support.

I'll add more of my lovely moots the more we interact.

My firecracker 🎇 @silverstarburst

My adorable dongsaeng 🖤 @writingforstraykids

My unhinged unnie 🌋 @daydreams-after-dark/@moonlightndaydreams

My kitty kat/lil katsy 🐈 @catiuskaa

My little galaxy 🌌 @skzdust

#pali : introduction #pali : moots

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neverendingdreams-net · 6 months ago

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✦ welcome to never-ending dreams!

@hanjsquokka @pali-writes-atiny-bit

✦ please take note.

reblog this post as an acknowledgment of your acceptance.

go through the guidelines in the official post again.

include a link to the network anywhere in your blog.

use #neverendingdreams in the first 10 tags or send your fic in the queueing channel of our discord channel (to be sent through dm).

feel free to reach out to the net through dm for any concerns. welcome to the net, once again! :D

status of applications: OPEN.

#net-members #net-acceptance

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bunnliix · 5 months ago

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I'm definitely not crying rn, nope. I am super honored to be tagged alongside so many amazing authors, and I honestly don't have words cause all I wanna do is cry and get emotional right now.

Regardless of me crying my heart out, here's more amazing authors that I adore: @pali-writes-atiny-bit @hongrizoon @honeyhotteoks @remedyx @jagibee

@n0v4t33z @bluejutdae @peachesyeo

nothing will ever amaze me the way fanfiction authors do. like, you wrote silly little stories about my favorite little guys? and i can read them?? for free??? that’s fucking wild.

you poured your heart and soul and very being into your writing and then put it out there for anyone to read? insane.

you spend a truly incredible amount of time writing novel-length, high quality stories, again, FOR FREE, that anyone can read, again, FOR FREE??

shoutout to every single fic author in existence, you guys are fucking incredible and i love all of you so much

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pali-writes-atiny-bit · 7 months ago

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Who You Belong To

Pairing: Chan x afab!reader

Summary: when you're at an after party and Chan doesn't show you enough attention you start acting up. OR wherein you learn actions have consequences Chan fuck the brattiness out of you

WC: ~1.95k

Content Warnings: 18+ MDNI. Established relationship, Dom/sub dynamics, degradation, spanking, spreader bar, name calling (Babygirl, princess, slut, sweet girl , pretty girl, baby, daddy), unprotected piv sex (please practice safe sex irl), hair pulling, overstimulation, squirting, aftercare (let me know if I missed any, please and thank you)

A/N: this just kinda popped into my head last night and I really needed to get it out there. Kinda sorta proofed but not really.

You're at an awards show party with Chan and the rest of Stray Kids. You've been there for a couple of hours now and you're growing bored. You're all dolled up but Chan has been too busy mingling to pay you much attention.

In your boredom you decide to flirt with some of the other male idols. Surely that will catch his attention. Although you've been nothing but appropriate, you're pushing the boundaries. When you catch him watching you with his jaw clenched, you smirk. You meet his eyes and see the dark warning flashing in them before turning away.

You're standing talking to Hongjoong, your hand resting on his arm when Chan comes striding over. He greets Hongjoong with a nod before excusing the both of you. He drags you by your arm to the side of the event hall with a grip just shy of bruising.

"Chan! I wasn't done talking to Hongjoong!" you turn to face him and try to pull your arm free. A muscle ticks in his jaw and instead of letting go, he tugs you closer causing you to stumble over your tall heels.

He hisses into your ear, "I think you've done plenty of talking for the night. Don't think I don't know what you you've been doing. I'll deal with you when you get home. You have 10 minutes before we leave."

A frisson of equal parts fear and anticipation surges through you. When he releases you and strides off, most likely to bid goodbye to the other members, you release a breath you hadn't realized you were holding. Just what you gotten yourself into.

The car ride home was silent but you could feel the simmering energy crackling between the two of you. When you get back to your shared apartment, he ushers you in. When the door closes, he cages you against, hands on either side of your head, and kisses you deeply until you moan.

When he withdraws, he fixes you with a stare. "I think I need to remind you who you belong to, babygirl. 5 minutes. I want you naked and on the bed on all fours." He swats your ass as you scurry off.

You're undressed and in position within the first minute, but he makes you wait. You can't help the wetness that's already gathering between your thighs in anticipation.

After 5 minutes are up, you hear him enter the room. The bed dips down behind you and he sets something down. You feel the familiar sensation of a leather cuff being wrapped around first one ankle and then the other. He slides a few fingers under the cuffs to check the tightness. Satisfied you won't lose circulation, he clicks open the spreader bar and you gasp.

This is something you've only talked about, and not actually tried yet. The bar has wrist cuffs too, and he draws your wrists between your legs and attaches first one wrist then the other. Without your hands, you're forced to rest on your chest and shoulders. It's not exactly comfortable on your neck, so he props you up on a couple of pillows, then steps back.

"Princess, you look so pretty all trussed up for me."

You runs a hand over your perfectly presented ass and your shiver. "You were flirting with all those other guys, with Joongie, but they don't get to see you like this, do they, slut?"

When you don't answer, he lands two harsh smacks in quick successions, first one cheek then the other.

"No, they don't," you bite out.

Another smack, "no what?"

"No, daddy!" you squeal.

He caresses your flesh with his palm, lovingly. Reverently. "That's right. I think 15 more ought to remind you who you belong to. Count!"

He brings his hand down and you bite out "one!"

He strikes again in the other cheek. "Two!"

He alternates sides, sometimes hitting the top of your ass, or the bottom where it meets your flesh. By 10, you're sobbing and your make up is ruined with tear streaks. "Please! I'm sorry, daddy!"

"Oh, you will be," he growls.

By the time you reach 14, your ass is a beautiful red and warm to the touch but your cunt is absolutely dripping. He soothes your skin with his palms and you moan.

"One more, babygirl," he says. Your thighs quiver with anticipation. You steel yourself for the strike, but this time he slaps your pussy, finger tips just grazing your clit. You jerk in shock and scream "Fifteen!"

He runs a few fingers through your folds and moans. "Fuck, princess, you're absolutely soaked. Did you enjoy that?"

You shake your head vehemently, and he chuckles. "Your head says no, but your body says yes."

"Who does this pussy belong to?" he asks as he sinks two fingers into your wet heat. Your mouth falls open and you let out a filthy moan.

"You, daddy! My pussy is yours. Please fill your pussy," you beg.

He withdraws his fingers and you hear the clink of his belt unbuckling. He quickly sheds his clothing and your feel the bed dip behind you again as he lines himself up.

His hands grip your hips so tightly you're sure to bruise. You both let out a hiss as he pushes inside you, taking his sweer time entering you. You're soaking wet, but he knows he's big. You moan when he is fully seated. His girth stretches you deliciously while the tip of his cock presses against your cervix.

"You take me so well, baby girl," he says as he draws his hips back. Your walls grip his length, trying to suck him back in.

He draws back until just the tip is inside, before slamming back into you. He repeats these motions again and again, slowly increasing the pace until he he's pounding into you.

You cry out and he says, "Is this it? Is this what you wanted baby girl? You wanted me to remind you who this cunt belongs to?"

"Y-y-ye-yes!" you wail.

"I'm going to make sure this pussy is molded to my cock, pretty girl."

His words make you clench around his cock. "I want to cum... I need to cum," you beg, pulling against your bonds.

"You'd better hold it until I say, baby girl," he says slowing his thrusts. "If you cum without permission, you'll be cumming until you beg me to stop."

You want to be good for him, for your daddy. You're trying your hardest to hold on but his fat cock is hitting your gummy spot just right with each thrust.

"I can't! Please, daddy!" You beg. "Please can I- fuuuuuuck!" You scream.

Before he can grant you permission, he delivers a particularly sharp thrust that has you falling apart on his cock.

"Oh babygirl... you were so close. But you still came without permission."

He continues driving into you as your walls flutter and pulse around him. The sensitivity from your first orgasm has you quickly climbing to a second peak.

You mind goes hazy with pleasure. Each snap of his hips punches a moan from your lips which are parted and drooling. It isn't long before you fall apart a second time.

He stops thrusting, and places a hand on the base of your skull gathering a handful of your hair. Taking care not to pull your roots too much, he hauls you up against him.

Your eyes are closed and you're panting. Your walls still quivering around his cock with aftershocks.

"Color, babygirl?"

"Green," you moan breathlessly.

That's all he needs to hear before he begins thrusting into you from below. With the change in angle he's hitting a new spot inside you.

He threads his other hand in front of you and gently presses against your lower belly. He groans at the feeling of his cock pressing against his hand each time he bottoms out. The added pressure makes you feel so full. You're hurtling towards your third orgasm.

He can feel how your cunt is tightening, bearing down around him. He slides his hand down and circles your clit.

"Cum for me baby. Cum on my cock again!"

You jerk at the contact and scream as your vision whites out and your hearing fades. You cum around him again, squirting and flooding the sheets below you.

You're shattered. Your soul scattered. You don't think you've ever cum so hard in your life.

When you come back to your senses, you're lying on your back. Your wrists and ankles are unbound and Chan is kneeling between your thighs, rubbing soothing circles into your skin.

When he sees you coming back to earth, he wraps your legs around your waist and presses a thumb to your clit. You hiss at the overstimulation, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes.

He pauses and looks at your with his brow furrowed in concen.

"Color?"

You're so tired and truthfully you don't know how much more you can take. You take a deep breath and whisper, "yellow, daddy."

"Okay princess. You've been so good. Do you think you can give me one more? Daddy wants to cum with you."

You let your gaze roam over him. You know that if you say no, he'll stop immediately. But you look at his cock which is red and angry, covered in your cream and twitching with need. He's so good to you. You want, no, you need him to cum with you.

"Please fill me with your cum, daddy."

"My sweet girl," he moans as he sheathes himself inside your core once more. He closes his eyes and tips his head back. "Shit, you feel so good princess."

His thrusts are slow, almost gentle. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer. He begins rambling as his thrusts grow erratic.

"You took your punishment so well. Fuck. My perfect girl. You're made for me."

You moan and clench around him at his praise causing him to groan in response. "I love you, babygirl. I'm going to fill you up!"

He thrusts two more times before he stills deep inside you. You feel his hot cum painting your walls and the feeling triggers your own release. You cum around him a final time with a wail, "I love you too, daddy!"

You cling to him as your contracting walls milk his cock. When your orgasm fades, you all but slump to the mattress, exhausted.

Chan extracts himself from your limbs and pulls out. He walks to the bathroom and you hear the sounds of water beginning to fill the tub. He returns with a glass of water and a warm, wet washcloth.

He helps you drink the glass of water and then begins cleaning you up, taking care with your sensitive, swollen folds.

You're mostly asleep by the time he finishes and picks you up bridal style. He carries you to the bathroom. With your eyes still closed you murmur, "I'm sorry for being a brat, daddy."

He kisses your head whispers "I love it when you're a brat."

He places you on the toilet so you can pee and then settles you into the bathtub. He changes the sheets while you relax before sliding into the tub behind you.

He holds you and whispers sweet nothings in your ear. And when you fall asleep, he dries you off, dresses you in one of his t shirts and tucks you into bed.

He kisses your forehead and whispers how much he loves you. He loves when you're a brat. And he loves when he gets to fuck it out of you.

@daydreams-after-dark

#skz fanfic #skz ff #stray kids fanfic #stray kids ff #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #bang chan smut #idol!bang chan x reader #big dick!bang chan #brat tamer!bang chan #pali-writes-atiny-bit

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pali-writes-atiny-bit · 4 months ago

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Play with Fire

Pairing: Hyunjin x afab!reader, Hyunjin x y/n

Summary: The follow up to Of Haircuts and Hyunjin - After his visit to District 9 Salon, Hyunjin can't stop thinking about you. He reaches out to you and ends up taking you on a date.

WC: 5.1k

SS: 3

AU: idol!Hyunjin

Genre: Smut

Content Warnings: Intended for 18+ mature audiences, MDNI! Kissing, oral sex (cunnilingus and fellatio)

Nets: @mirohs-aurora-society @neverendingdreams-net

Part 1

After he left the salon, he had stuffed the receipt into his pocket and headed to the company practice rooms. All through dance practice it felt as though that little piece of paper was burning a hole in his pocket. Thankfully he didn’t make any mistakes, but he wasn’t as focused on his dancing as he should be - all because he couldn’t stop thinking about the message. He couldn’t stop thinking about you.

Hyunjin returns to the dorm after dance practice and flops on his bed. He removes the little receipt paper from his pocket and holds it in his hand. He reads the message and then re-reads it.

In case you want to do more than look ###-###-#### Y/N.

He crumples the receipt and tosses it to the side with a sigh. He should just forget all about it, forget all about you. While he and the other members are no longer under a dating ban, strictly speaking, it is still discouraged by the company. Seeing you would just be playing with fire. He runs a hand through his hair and sighs again. Maybe a shower will help clear his thoughts.

He grabs a towel from the linen closet and pads down the hallway to the bathroom. He strips his clothes off and turns on the shower before stepping in. The water is nearly scalding, just the way he likes it. He can feel the water washing away the sweat from his body while his muscles slowly relax.

He closes his eyes and stands under the water for several long minutes, letting it cascade down his body. He takes measured breaths, inhaling deeply, pausing, and exhaling slowly. With each breath he lets his thoughts bleed from his mind until there is nothing.

Eventually, he needs to wash his hair and body. He squirts his body wash on his washcloth and lathers it up. The scent of lavender and eucalyptus swirls around him, enveloping him as he drags it first across his chest then down his body. The subtle lavender is soothing while the eucalyptus is refreshing and provides mental clarity.

For the moment, he has succeeded in his goal of forgetting all about you. But all of that goes down the drain the moment he begins to wash his hair. The feeling of his fingers scrubbing his scalp immediately makes him flashback to that morning at the salon.

You squirt a couple of pumps of shampoo into your palm, rubbing it between your hands before working it into a lather in his hair. While you work the shampoo into his tresses, you massage his scalp. Your fingers work a kind of magic that has all the tension melting from his body. It feels like heaven.

Every now and then, your fingernails also lightly scratch his scalp. Each scratch lights up his nerve endings and sends a current of pleasure rippling through his body. He can’t help the slight shiver that follows. He can feel his cock twitching to life between his legs, pressing against his pants.

The flashback ends abruptly when the shower water begins to run cold. The water streaming down his body may be cold, but his cock hangs hot and heavy from the memory. He exhales shakily and shivers from the cold water. He quickly rinses the shampoo from his hair and by the time he finishes, his body has calmed down, but his mind has not.

His thoughts race as he steps out of the shower. He dries himself off before wrapping the towel around his waist and heading back to his room. He dresses in sweats and a baggy t-shirt before flopping on his bed once again.

As he stretches out, his hand hits the crumpled receipt paper he had discarded earlier. He grabs it and sits up. He uncrumples it and smooths the paper against his thigh.

In case you want to do more than look ###-###-#### Y/N.

Before he can second - or third - guess himself, he punches the number into his phone.

He’s always liked to play with fire.

You were stretched out in bed, relieving your tired muscles. Your hours at the salon were long and draining, and your hands and feet often hurt after a shift. In the end, you didn't really mind though. It paid well enough, and since it was a high end salon, you'd get to meet the occasional Kpop idol or actor.

While you laid there, you opened your socials for your nightly doom scrolling. It didn't take much scrolling before Kpop fan edits began to show up in your feed. You double-tapped your screen to like a video here or there.

You abruptly stopped scrolling as the next video played and you saw a familiar face. It was a fancam of Hyunjin’s Megaverse dance break. God, he looked so handsome. You admired the precise control he had over his body. You were in absolute awe. And when he hip-thrusted in time to the music, well, let’s just say you felt your entire body flush. You let the video replay several more times - drinking in every single detail.

Your rapt attention was broken when your phone vibrated with a text notification. Startled, you let the phone slip from your grip and it lands on your face. You let out a pained squeak and sit up. Who could be texting you at this time? All your friends and family live across the world from you.

You scoff to yourself a little incredulously. There was no way the Hyunjin of Stray Kids was texting you. If you were being honest, you're not sure why you left him your number. Sure, you would have had to be blind to miss either his blatant appreciation of your body or his physical reaction during his appointment. He had flirted, and you had even flirted back. But still, you never would have expected him to actually text you. He was an idol and you were, well, nobody really.

Yet, against all odds, here he was. So you saved his number, took a deep breath, and texted him back.

You giggle to yourself and suppress a smile while kicking your feet. You’re going on a date with Hyunjin!

The next day you put on a pair of lacy panties and a short, flowing dress that ties behind your neck. There is a triangle of skin showing between your breasts and it leaves your back wide open. It’s modest enough but makes you feel cute, maybe even sexy. You slip on a pair of ballet flats and pack a pair of wedge sandals for later. Satisfied with your appearance, you grab your makeup bag and head to the salon to start your shift.

When you arrive at District 9 you place your belongings in the break room before checking your bookings for the day, you have a full schedule of clients with hardly a break in between. You inhale a deep breath before exhaling slowly, preparing yourself mentally for the day. And then you put a smile on your face and prepare your station for the first client.

By lunchtime you are absolutely famished. You run down the street to the convenience store and buy a kimbap and a can of milkis. When you return, you all but fall into a break room chair, eager to put your feet up for a few minutes. You pull out your phone as you begin to wolf down your food. You see you have a new notification.

Skipping ahead to ‘darling’ already? You giggle to yourself and shake your head. Even though you’ve been busy, you can’t help but feel like the day is dragging on. Only four more hours to go. Hwaiting! you tell yourself.

With some measure of luck, your 4’clock, your last appointment of the day, cancels at the last minute. You breathe a sigh of relief and ask your coworker to give you a blowout and style. They loosely curl your hair while you chat about your plans for the evening. You explain that you’re going on a date, but you’re careful not to mention who you’re going on a date with.

They add a finishing touch by pulling half of your hair back into a fishtail braid secured with a cute ribbon. Happy with the look, you thank them and spend the remaining time putting on some light makeup. Just after 5, you slip out of your flats, put on your wedges. After a final check in the mirror, you grab your bag and walk out the door.

Hyunjin stands outside of the salon, leaning against the car he’s using for the night. He’s dressed casually and wearing a mask with a ball cap pulled low to help conceal his identity. He arrived just before 5 and has been waiting for you. As he waits, he nonchalantly scrolls through his socials. To passersby, he looks calm and collected.

The truth is, he’s nervous. His palms are sweating, and a closer look would reveal a slight tremor of the hands. For one, it’s been years since he’s been on anything resembling a date. He definitely doesn’t think outings with the other members count. For two, there were nigh on countless things that could go wrong, and any number of them could cause a scandal.

He knew he was taking a risk - maybe even a major risk - but there was just something so alluring about you. From the beginning, the moment he walked into District 9, he’s been drawn to you like a moth to a flame. He’s always liked to play with fire.

He looks up when you walk out of the salon, and the world seems to stop turning, if only for a moment. You call out a soft greeting, and he shivers with pleasure, his name never sounding sweeter than it does coming out of your lips. You look absolutely radiant with your hair falling in soft curls around your shoulders. A light breeze ruffles the skirt of your dress, allowing him a brief glimpse of your plush thighs.

He subconsciously gives his lips a quick lick before subtly wiping his palms on his pants as he pockets his phone. He gives you a bright smile and walks to open the passenger door.

“Your chariot awaits, miss!” he chuckles with a playful bow.

He watches as you mock curtsey back to him and go to get in the car. The car is a little lower than you expected, and he watches as you stumble. Without even thinking, his hands reach out to stabilize you. Your waist underneath his hands feels just right - you’re so warm. The perfect balance of soft and firm.

He can’t help but give you a gentle squeeze as he helps you into the car. You give him the brightest smile in return. It’s a smile bright enough to melt all of his nerves away. When he shuts your car door and walks around to the driver's side, he has to take a moment to adjust himself in his pants.

As you settle into the seat of the car, you close your eyes and take a deep breath to calm your nerves. The air is permeated with the scent of Hyunjin. It’s lightly floral with a hint of something else - spicy or herbal? You find it suits him perfectly.

Just a moment later, the driver’s door opens and Hyunjin folds his long legs into the car. He puts on his seatbelt and makes sure that yours is buckled as well. Then he gives you a bright smile and starts the car. You give him a smile back and he pulls out of the parking lot.

You study Hyunjin as he drives. Even doing something so mundane, he looks stunning. He’s relaxed in the driver’s seat. His left hand is on the steering wheel while his right hand rests on the gear shift between the two of you. You didn't think you had a thing for hands, but you can’t help but study his hands.

You observe the way the veins on the back of his hand faintly protrude and snake up his forearm. His fingers are long and adorned with silver rings. His nails are well manicured but unpainted. As you stare, you can't help but imagine the way his hands might feel on you - and in you.

Would his palms be soft or rough against your skin? Are his hands warm or cold? What would the cool metal of his rings feel like as he glides his hands over your body? What would his rings feel like pressed against your folds? And oh - how deep inside would those long fingers reach?

You can feel your body begin to heat up in response to your wayward thoughts - starting with a tingling sensation between your thighs.You shift your gaze outside the window and exhale a shaky breath. You loosely grip the hem of your dress in your fists and subtly squeeze your thighs together. A futily seeking any sort of relief.

Determined to keep looking out the window, you miss the way Hyunjin subtly shifts his gaze to you as you press your thighs. You miss the way he swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing, before clenching his jaw. However determined you are, you can’t miss the way tension seems to rise in the car - an energy, a dangerous attraction sparking to life between the two of you.

Thankfully, the car ride is brief and soon enough Hyunjin is parking the car. You take a deep breath as you exit the car. Thankfully, the open air seems to break the tension between you. He’s brought you to the outskirts out the city and as he leads you down the street, he tells you about the little hole-in-the-wall BBQ restaurant the other members found. He and the others have frequented the restaurant enough to befriend the owner who always ensures they have a private room in the back away from the prying eyes of the public.

Once inside the restaurant, he greets the employees with friendly familiarity and walks toward the very room he just mentioned to you. Ever the gentleman, he pulls out your chair to seat you first.

“And they say chivalry is dead,” you tease with a smirk.

He waves you off with a playful scowl, but a faint blush tinges his cheeks as he takes his seat across from you.

You feel the spark of attraction flare back to life now that you’re seated across from him. As you examine the menu, you wonder if he feels the same. You glance up at him, and find that he is already looking at you. You flush as you meet his eyes and exchange a shy smile.

You gesture to the menu and ask if he has any recommendations. You spend the next several minutes discussing the menu, stealing glances while the other isn’t looking. At restaurants like these, there’s a fine line between not enough food and too much food and neither of you want to eat too much food. After much deliberation you settle on an order of galbi and samgyeopsal with rice for the both of you.

Hyunjin leaves the room to place the order, and you fan your face, feeling a bit warm. You’re certain that you must be flushed. When he returns, he relaxes into his seat, one arm across the back of the other chair while his other hand rests on the table. He flashes you a bright smile.

“So, Y/N tell me about yourself - outside of your job what do you like to do?” he asks?

You spend several minutes animatedly detailing your numerous interests and hobbies - most prominently how you love to read and listen to music. You admit that you are a big fan of kpop and watch his face light up when you reveal you’ve been a Stay for about a year now. He puts on a serious face and asks you who your bias is, pouting when it’s not him.

You've seen him pout before on live, but it's different in person. Your eyes are immediately drawn to his lush lips. They look soft and hydrated - absolutely kissable. You shake your head to dismiss the thought before it can go any further and reach a hand across the table to where his hand is resting.

You pat his hand as you give him a sly grin, “there’s plenty of time for me to be swayed. You could still become my favorite.” In an uncharacteristically bold move, you seal your words with a wink.

His mouth falls open, whether in shock or rebuttal you don’t know, because before he can get any words out, the food arrives. The owner himself and another employee bring in the food. They light the grill and place the meat and tongs near Hyunjin then beautifully arrange the banchan dishes before politely bowing and excusing themselves.

Hyunjin wields the tongs with practiced ease. You shamelessly admire him from across the table while he places first the samgyeopsal and then galbi on the grill. He then takes the scissors and cuts each strip into smaller pieces. The grill is still heating up when the meat is first added, but soon enough your ears and nostrils are filled with the sizzling sounds and tantalizing smells of grilling meat. Your mouth waters in response.

As Hyunjin carefully tends the meat, turning each piece several times, you chat casually. As time passes, you both grow bolder, exchanging flirting words and glances. You feel your face grow warm - whether from the heat of the grill or from the flames of desire, you can't say. Although you could wager a guess.

You're uncertain how much time has truly passed, but soon enough Hyunjin begins removing the first round of meat from the grill and placing them on the nearby serving platter. While he lets the meat rest, he starts laying the second round out on the grill.

After he finishes arranging and cutting the meat in the grill, he picks up a piece of galbi with his chopsticks and holds it out to you.

“Here, pretty girl, the first piece is for you!”

You flush even further but open your mouth to accept the piece of meat. Your taste buds are immediately assaulted by the sweet, salty, and slightly smoky flavor of the galbi. The meat is so tender it practically falls apart on your mouth without chewing. You close your eyes and moan appreciatively.

Hyunjin makes some sort of strangled noise, and when you open your eyes, you find him staring at you with lust in his eyes. You meet his heated gaze, with heat in your own gaze, and smile.

You and Hyunjin take your time; both of you enjoy the carefully cooked meat, delicious banchan, and each other's company. When the food is gone, Hyunjin rises and offers you his hand, which you happily take.

You let him lead you to the front where he pays for the meal before opening the door and ushering you out. Darkness fell while you were eating and without the heat of the sun you find the night breeze just a little chilly.

Hyunjin pulls you close and guides you back to the car with his hand on your lower back. Your interactions during the meal has nurtured the spark of attraction between you into a roaring flame of desire. As such, you're hyper aware of his hand against your back - the heat from his palm radiates through your body. The warmth spreads throughout your body and pools low in your stomach.

Like earlier, Hyunjin opens your car door and helps you in. As you settle into your seat, you know one thing for certain: your stomach may be pleasantly full, but you're filled with a hunger of an entirely different nature.

After he slides into the driver's seat, Hyunjin types the address you give him into his phone. It turns out you only live a few blocks from the salon, so he knows the drive won't take long. Is that a blessing or a curse?

The atmosphere in the car comes to life with the unspoken sexual tension between you and him. Hyunjin feels his cock twitching within the confines of his pants. He inhales a deep, measured breath through his nose in an effort to calm himself. Instead, he gets a deep inhale of your sweet perfume, and he only grows harder. He grips the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turn white.

Traffic is lighter this time of day, and in no time at all Hyunjin finds himself parked in front of your apartment. He isn't ready to say goodbye to you, and it seems you aren't quite ready to part either because you haven't made any moves to exit the car.

Then, it seems you both make up your minds because you speak at the same time he does.

“Hyun-”

“Y/N-”

He gestures for you to continue and waits while you unbuckle your seatbelt to turn and face him. He watches as you close your eyes and take a deep breath before blurting out, “Hyunjin, would you like to come up with me? I don't want the night to end yet…”

For several long seconds he doesn’t move, and he doesn't say anything. He's warring with himself - he wants so badly to go with you. He can't deny how intensely he desires you. He feels like he's burning from the inside out. Following you up to your apartment would just be playing with fire.

You, unfortunately, take his silence as rejection. Your voice trembles as you ramble, “I’m sorry if I misread any signs…I had a great time, but I'll just get going now.”

You scramble to open your door and exit the car, and this shakes him out of his thoughts. He catches your wrist and pulls you back, smashing his lips to yours.

Your lips against his are so soft and they part in surprise. He takes the opportunity to slip his tongue between them, meeting yours. He relishes in the way your tongue dances with his. He kisses you for several long minutes. By the time he breaks the kiss, you're both out of breath.

“Please, Y/N,” he pants, “I want you.”

He's always like to play with fire.

He follows closely behind you as you lead him up to your apartment, opting to take the stairs rather than the elevator for discretion. You're out of breath when you stop outside of apartment 14-3.

You quickly enter the code to your door, and he follows. As soon as you're both inside, he shuts the door and spins you both, so you're pinned against the door, caged in his arms. He claims your lips again in a feverish kiss and you respond in kind.

As your lips clash and tongues tangle, he maneuvers his thigh between your legs, pressing against your clothed mound. He can feel the heat radiating from your core. And when you begin to shift your hips, he can feel the wetness seeping through your panties. Each time you grind down on his thigh, you also inadvertently provide friction to his aching cock.

Eventually he can't take it anymore and he breaks the kiss.

“Please, Y/N,” he pants. “I need to taste you. Can I taste you?”

When you nod, blushing, he picks you up, hands gripping your thighs.

He kisses you and then asks, “bed or couch, pretty girl?”

“Couch - living room is through there,” you respond breathlessly, gesturing with your chin.

He gently sets you down on the couch and wastes no time kneeling before you on the floor. You lift your hips slightly and he peels your panties off, sliding his hands gently down your thighs as he goes. Thick strings of your arousal cling to your panties and he shamelessly sniffs them before throwing them haphazardly to the side.

“You smell delicious, pretty.”

He smirks at the way your face flames red at his actions and positions himself between your thighs. His slender shoulders keep your legs spread apart.

He uses his thumbs to spread your lips apart and takes a moment to admire the view before diving straight in. Using the flat of his tongue he slowly licks a thick stripe from your entrance to your clit. Your slick tastes divine - a pleasant balance between sweet and tangy - and he moans.

He repeats the action a few more times, just as slowly, before dipping the tip of his tongue into your entrance, seeking more of your nectar straight from the source. He could get drunk on you - but it's not enough.

He shifts your thighs to rest on top of his shoulders, sandwiching his head. He stiffens his tongue and thrusts it into your core, spearing you open. From this new position he can reach deeper, and he repeats the motion again and again. Licking, sucking, slurping.

You're both moaning messes and he can feel your thighs quivering.

“Hyunjin, more,” you plead, canting your hips.

Happy to oblige, he slowly works two of his fingers into you. He scissors them apart and works you open while questing for your g-spot. At the same time, he wraps his lips around your clit.

When he finds that area of slightly spongy flesh, he gently presses into it, massaging small circles into the flesh. Simultaneously, he uses the tip of his tongue to quickly flick your sensitive bud - all that hard work at learning enunciation paying off.

Although your thighs muffle all sounds, he can still hear your moans and whimpers. They grow in volume and frequency as he pushes you towards your high.

Your thighs clamp shut around his head as he pushes you over the edge. He drinks you down, not letting a single drop of your cum go to waste. You moan his name, “Jinnie!!”

He was wrong earlier - the way you moan his name in the height of pleasure is the sweetest sound. And he wants to hear you do it over and over again.

You relax into the couch cushions, breathing hard. You look down between your thighs to where Hyunjin is emerging, his face glistening with the remnants of your release. “Holy fuck, Jinnie…” you pant. “Wait, can I call you, Jinnie?”

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, before wiping the hand on his pants. He stands up, slowly unfolding his lithe body, and plops himself down beside you. He raises a hand to your cheek and gently turns your head.

“You can call me whatever you like, darling,” he murmurs.

You meet his eyes and smile before leaning in and capturing his lips. He tastes like you, but you don't mind. You deepen the kiss, licking into his mouth. When you eventually withdraw, you tug at his lower lip with your teeth, and he whimpers.

“You taste good, Jinnie,” you croon. “But I bet I know something that tastes even better.”

You slide off the couch until you're the one kneeling between his thighs.

“What do you say, Jinnie baby…” You look up at him, eyes shrouded behind your long lashes. “Can I return the favor?”

You relish in the way he whimpers, “please.”

Your fingers deftly unbutton his pants before you lean forward taking the zipper between your teeth.

“Fuck…” he hisses, staring down at you. “That's so fucking hot.”

You grin and hook your fingers into the waistband of both his boxer briefs and pants. You give them a gentle tug and he lifts his hips to help you slide them off in one go. You let them pool around his ankles, too distracted by his newly freed cock, which smacks against his clothed abdomen.

As far as phalluses go, Hyunjin’s is beautiful. It isn’t the thickest you’ve ever seen, but it’s long with the slightest curve to the left. Like his hands, there is a protruding vein that runs along the underside from base to tip. His cockhead is an angry red and leaking precum. With each beat of his heart, his cock pulses and a little more precum oozes out.

“Eyes on me,” you say before slowly dragging your tongue up the underside of his cock, tracing the vein, before swirling it around his tip and sucking hard. You let your tongue dip into his slit and gather more of his salty essence. He lets out a breathy moan. He can't control the way his hips jerk up, pressing himself further into your mouth. He feels guilty, stuttering out an “I’m sorry” but you pay him no mind, simply humming around his cock and pressing his hips back into the couch. Your display of dominance combined with the subtle vibrations make his brain go fuzzy. His eyes roll to the back of his head, and he relaxes into the couch.

Still loosely holding his hips, you bob your head up and down, taking more of his cock each down stroke. You gag a little when he finally hits the back of your throat, tears springing to your eyes unbidden. You pause for a moment, taking a deep breath, before taking him into your mouth again. You relax your throat and swallow him down inch by inch.

He lets out a strangled cry and his hips jerk again involuntarily. You tighten your grip on his hips and shove them back into the couch. Pinning him down, you redouble your efforts until his thighs are tense and trembling.

“I’m so close, please…” he begs. For what - to stop, to continue - neither of you know.

You slide one hand from his hip to cup his balls as you swallow down his length. As you work your throat around him, he can’t hold back. He reaches one hand down to cup your cheek and emits a strangled moan as he cums straight down your throat.

You swallow everything down before releasing his cock with a pop.

Hyunjin knows he’s a goner as soon as he looks down at you kneeling between his feet - spit dribbling down your chin and tear tracks lining your cheeks.

You’re beautiful.

This was supposed to be a one-time thing.

To quell the fire inside of him

But this has only been a match in the gas tank.

There is now an inferno that rages only for you. And he doubts it will be just a one-time thing.

A/N: Hey all, I hope you enjoyed the 2nd part of Of Haircuts and Hyunjin. Thank you for making it this far. If you enjoyed, please let me know if you'd be interested in a 3rd part. Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in any of my work.

Tag list: @skzdust @catiuskaa

#mirohsaurorasociety #neverendingdreams #skz fanfic #skz ff #stray kids fanfic #stray kids ff #hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x y/n #pali-writes-atiny-bit

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pali-writes-atiny-bit · 7 months ago

Text

Wow

Pairing: Han Jisung x afab!reader, Idol!Jisung x Manager!reader (Y/N is used)

Summary: Based on a request. Plot with eventual smut. Y/N graduated from University and moved to Seoul hoping to get a translator job with an entertainment company. Instead, she gets a job as one of the managers for Stray Kids and maybe something more.

WC: 8.62k

Content Warning: Intended for 18+ mature audiences. MDNI! Brief anxiety/panic attack, masturbation (m and f), mutual pining, noona as a pet name, fingering (f rec), nipple play, swearing, unprotected piv (please be responsible for yourselves). Let me know if I missed anything else.

You're different from when we first met, I'm curious of you The mood you give off completely changed, I'm curious of you I can’t understand how I feel, mysterious of you With the gaze you give me, let me say "Wow" (Got me trippin’ like) Wow, wow, completely changed your vibe (Got me trippin' like) Wow, wow, wow I wanna be on your mind (Got me trippin’ like) Wow, wow, so I can approach you I want to know how you feel, bang bang (Got me trippin' like)

Han first sees you as you’re walking into the cafe near JYP that he frequents. When you open the door, early morning sun is shining directly behind you, lighting up the top of your head like a halo. As soon as he sets his eyes on you, the rest of the world seems to fall away and his heart stutters a few beats. After you step in and the door swings shut behind you, he’s able to see you clearly.

Your hair falls past your shoulders in soft waves. You’re wearing a black turtleneck and a plaid pinafore dress with black knee high boots. The dress hugs your chest before flaring out into a flowing skirt that ends mid thigh. He watches as you order a vanilla latte and an almond croissant before sitting at a table and pulling out a planner.

Even from first sight, he feels an instant gravitation towards you. He’d love to stay and get to know you, but his drink order is being called. Unfortunately, the rest of the boys are waiting for him to come back to the dorms with their drinks. As he leaves the cafe, he glances at you again. He can’t help but hope he’ll see you again.

You’ve just moved here on Friday after graduating university. Spending your first couple of days unpacking, you’ve had very little time to explore your surroundings. The halmeoni who greeted you when you first moved in mentioned a nearby cafe serving some of the best coffee and pastries around. And so on Monday morning you find yourself briskly walking the couple of blocks to the cafe.

You’ve put on one of your favorite dresses and boots but forewent a jacket. A decision you are now regretting hence the brisk walk. After a few minutes you reach the cafe and open the door. You step in and call out a polite greeting to the baristas at the front. You quickly browse their menu board before deciding on a vanilla latte to warm you up and a flaky almond croissant.

After placing your order, you find a small table by the window and take a seat. You pull out your planner and your laptop to begin checking your emails. Before moving here you sent out applications to many different companies. You got a degree in linguistics with a minor in music. Right now your dream is to work as an interpreter/translator for one of the big entertainment companies here in Seoul, but you’ll take what you can get.

Your latte and croissant arrive just as you’re opening up your email. You take a sip of the warm drink as you sift through your inbox. Your spirits sink as you find the emails in your inbox are only spam. You subconsciously worry your lower lip. You have enough savings for a couple of months here in Seoul, but you’ve left everything you’ve ever known behind - not that there was anything left for you there. You didn’t have any family, or friends you could fall back on, and certainly no significant other. In other words, you really needed a job.

You take a bite of the croissant while you fill out some more job applications. The croissant is deliciously flaky and nutty from the almond. After the first bite you end up spending a couple of hours filling out applications while your latte and croissant end up forgotten on the side. You finish up and stretch your arms above your head before drinking the rest of your latte and croissant while watching passersby out the window.

You decide that you really like this cafe. You’ll definitely be back.

You don’t have time to go back to the cafe until the weekend.

You’ve been busy. You bought furniture to make your apartment feel more like a home. You went out and bought a few more professional pieces of clothing, for when you finally get an interview. The rest of the time you spent sending out applications and reaching out to contacts to develop a network.

On Saturday morning you wake up around 9. After stretching with a big yawn, you decide that a hot coffee and a pastry would make a perfect start to your weekend. You dress comfortably with a coordinating gray hoodie and jogger set and pile your hair up in a messy bun. The last thing you add to your outfit is your over-the-ear headphones.

You put on your favorite playlist of kpop hits and leave your apartment. It’s a beautiful sunny day, and you smile to yourself as you walk down the street. You’re jamming out to your music and unlike the last time you made this walk, you take your time.

When you walk into the cafe, you’re dancing in tiny to God’s Menu. You’re so engrossed in the music, head bobbing along to the beat, you don’t notice the group of 8 boys sitting in the corner. You don’t notice how they turned to look at you when the door chimed.And you certainly don’t notice how a few of them stifle a chuckle as they recognize the dance you’re doing.

Han immediately recognizes you - how could he not when you’re all he’s been thinking about. you’ve been plaguing his thoughts since he saw you on Monday. When he got back to the dorms, he couldn't stop raving about the most beautiful woman he thinks he's ever seen.

Even wearing sweatpants, as you are today, he thinks that that's true. What's even more beautiful is the way you're smiling as you dance to his song, their song. Is it fate that you listen to their music?

The thought that the woman of his dreams might be their fan, a Stay, has his heartbeat picking up and a faint blush creeping up his neck. His reaction doesn’t go unnoticed by either Chan or Minho, and they give him a look.

He gulps and mutters, “that's her. She's who I saw on Monday.”

The other members hear his statement and take a closer look. ‘She is beautiful,’ they all think, agreeing with his assessment.

When the song finishes, you pause your playlist and slip your headphones down to hang around your neck. Their eyes follow you as you order the same vanilla latte as on Monday with another croissant, chocolate this time. They continue to follow you as you retrieve your latte and select a seat near the windows.

It isn’t until you settle into your seat, that you finally feel the weight of their gazes. You slowly turn your head towards the corner and meet the gaze of 8 men. Your eyes widen in surprise as you take in their faces. Although some of the members are wearing masks, you still recognize them easily, how could you not when you’ve watched so many of their lives. When you’ve listened to their music on repeat, letting it anchor you to the world as you struggled through uni alone.

You were told that this cafe was close to JYPE, but you are still surprised to see them here. You give them a bright smile and a little wave. And then you remember what you were doing as you walked into the cafe. Certain that they watched your stupid little dance you flush a deep pink. You hide your face in your hands and quickly turn away. You spend the rest of your time gazing out the window, pointedly not looking back toward the corner.

For some reason, your smile thrilled each of the members. But when you flushed and looked away they all felt bad. None of them meant for you to feel embarrassed. After all, your dance had been cute and they were the ones caught staring. Nevertheless, they stopped watching you and resumed talking amongst themselves. All except Han, who couldn’t help but sneak peeks at you. He’s so curious of you.

Over the next month you become a frequent presence at the cafe. You still haven’t found a full time job which worries you, but you were able to pick up some freelance translation work for the time being. You often work from the cafe, spending hours there at a time. In doing so, you get to know several of the baristas there. When you come in, they greet you by name, and if it isn’t busy, you often spend a few minutes chatting.

Han sees you there often. Sometimes he’s there first and sometimes you’re already seated at your favorite spot by the window. Although he is often accompanied by another member or two, he also finds himself going by himself more often hoping to see you. When he’s alone, he allows himself to observe you in a way he doesn’t with the other members. He studies your little facial expressions - the way you bob your head to whatever song you’re listening to. The way you chew on your lower lip when you’re thinking. It’s during one of these visits that he learns your name is Y/N.

It’s mysterious the way your simple existence has utterly captivated him. He’s so curious of you. He can’t help the way he wants to talk to you and get to know you. He wants to be on your mind the same way that you’re on his. He simply wants you. But, he’s an idol and relationships aren’t so easy, so while he pines after you he

channels all his thoughts and desires into lyrics.

It’s been a couple of weeks since Han has seen you last. He’s worried about you. You had been coming less frequently, and the last time he saw you, you had dark bags under your eyes, and your lower lip was thoroughly raw and chapped. You looked ill.

It’s safe to say that when he finally sees you again, he’s relieved. He’s arrived at the cafe just after you, you’re standing in line just a few places ahead. You look good - you look healthy.

You’re dressed in a striking three-piece pantsuit. It accents both your waist and your curves. It’s professional but also flatteringly feminine. He can't help the way his eyes roam up and down your body. He can't help the way they linger on the swell of your ass. The outfit suits you exceptionally well.

Han watches as you reach the counter and greet the barista by name. You order your customary vanilla latte to-go and move to the waiting area. His lips form a pout when he realizes that means you won't be sitting down. Where is she going looking like that, he wonders.

When it's his turn at the counter, he orders two iced Americanos and a smoothie for Chan, and moves to stand next to you at the drink receiving area. He studies you closer.

Your hair is neatly pulled back into a ponytail. Round wire-framed glasses sit atop your nose giving you a very studious look. He can see a few freckles dusting your cheek bones. Your lips are pink and full and look so soft, not nearly as chapped as the last time he saw you. He’s standing close enough to you that he can lightly smell your perfume. It’s a floral jasmine mix with a hint of musky amber and bergamot. It’s heady but not heavy. It’s intoxicating.

He is startled out of his thoughts, his thoughts about you, when both of your drink orders are called. You grab your drink and head for the door. By the time he grabs his drinks and places them in a carrier, you’ve disappeared onto the street.

You had stopped going to the cafe after about a month because you still hadn’t received any interviews or job offers. The freelance work you were able to pick up was barely enough to cover your rent. You were no longer confident in your decision to move here. You were stressed and alone and it was wearing on your health.

Then one Thursday afternoon you received a call from an unknown number.

“Yeoboseyo? Is this Miss Y/N? I'm calling from JYP Entertainment regarding the Interpreter position you applied for. Are you available for an interview tomorrow?”

You were shocked. JYP Entertainment was just one of the many companies that you applied to and since they were one of the big names, you didn’t really expect to hear back from them. And yet they were the first company to reach out to you. You could barely contain your excitement while you responded “Yes, I'm Y/N. Thank you. I would love to come in for an interview!” You briefly discussed the details and ended the call with an interview scheduled for 8 am the following morning.

That was how you found yourself standing in front of the JYP Entertainment building, at 7:50 am with your latte in hand. You are thankful that the company is close to the cafe because you’re gripping the cup like it’s your lifeline. Maybe in a way it is - the warm drink in your hand is comforting. You take a deep grounding breath before entering the building and announcing yourself at the front desk.

After a few minutes you are escorted up to one of the meeting rooms on the upper floors. Inside, seated at a conference table, is Park Jin Young, JYP himself, along with another woman. Placing your cup down, you bow at 90 degrees and greet them both.

“Hello. My name is Y/N L/N. It's nice to meet you!!”

“Hello, Miss Y/N. Thank you for agreeing to meet us today. Please sit,” he gestures toward a seat opposite him and then glances down at the papers on the table in front of him. “I see that you applied to be one of our interpreters for English and/or Japanese.”

“Yes sir, that is correct,” you respond as you take a seat.

“You have quite an impressive resume here. I have one of our Japanese speakers with me to test your conversational skills, if you don't mind.”

“I don't mind,” you respond in Korean before easily transitioning to Japanese. You first re-introduce yourself before falling into an easy conversation with the other employee. You talk about some of the professional aspects of the job before moving on to some more personal details, like pets and hobbies. After about 10 minutes of conversing, the other employee ends the conversation and nods to JYP.

“Very good, Miss Y/N. Your conversational skills appear to be more than adequate. I think you would be a great addition to our team of interpreters. However,” he says before pausing.

Your heart which was beginning to swell with excitement faltered as you waited for him to continue. Your thoughts raced ahead - what wasn’t good enough?

“With your minor in music theory and production I think you may actually be better qualified for one of our new artist manager positions.”

Wait, what? You can’t help the way your mouth falls open in shock.

“With Stray Kids’ growing popularity and global presence we want to expand their management team for better support. You are proficient in Korean, Japanese, and English which is a great asset for travel and international interviews. With your music education you can also assist with production and recording if necessary,” JYP finishes explaining with a smile.

At some point during the explanation you managed to close your mouth and reign in your shock. You take a drink of your latte before speaking.

“This sounds like an amazing opportunity, sir…” you pause as something occurs to you. “I’d also like to be upfront with the fact that I am a Stay. I've been following Stray Kids since their debut. Will that be a problem, sir?”

JYP chuckles a little before responding. “In this case I think it's actually a benefit. If you’ve been watching them since the beginning, you're familiar with their dynamics and their music.”

He hands you a manila folder. “Here is our job offer and some other minor legal documents. I understand if you need some time to think this over, but we'd really like to onboard you as early as next week.”

You smile as you accept the folder. You take a moment to adjust your glasses before beginning to read the contents. You take your time to thoroughly examine the documents. The first page is the job offer itself which states your responsibilities as a manager. You are surprised to see that the salary is quite a bit higher than you could have anticipated. Another document details the benefits offered by JYPE. There is also a Non-disclosure Agreement which, if you're going to be working with idols like Stray Kids, is unsurprising.

After taking nearly half an hour to inspect the contents, you look up from the folder with a satisfied smile. You reach for a pen and sign the job offer acceptance before sliding it across the table.

“Thank you, sir. This is a very generous offer and I am honored to accept.”

He claps his hands again with a smile. “Wonderful news! We'd like to onboard you and introduce you to the team as soon as possible,” he says before glancing at this watch. “Unfortunately, it’s a bit short notice to do that today. Would you be available to come back to meet everyone tomorrow around noon?”

“Yes, of course. I look forward to it” you say.

The three of you stand from your seats and he says, “I believe our meeting for today has concluded then. Welcome to the team!”

You bow again and say “Thank you. Goodbye and please stay well!”

After seeing you again at the cafe, Jisung can't get you off his mind. You looked and smelled exquisite. He wants to get to know you so badly - he wants to know who you are and what you like and dislike.

When he entered the company earlier, he thought he saw someone who looked like you waiting at the front desk. But he was already running late to meet the others so he couldn’t take a closer look. The rest of the day and week are packed with schedules and he promptly forgets about it.

That evening Chan gathers everyone together and announces that a new artist manager is being added to their entourage. You will be introduced to all of them tomorrow. He explains that you will be around to assist with their day to day activities, music product, and will be one of their main managers for international tours and events.

The next day you wake up mid-morning after taking yourself out to dinner to celebrate last night. It was kind of depressing celebrating by yourself, but you made do. You might have drank a bit more than you meant to as a result, hence the late start.

You don't have too much time before meeting Stray Kids, so you drag yourself out of bed and head to the shower to start your day. You dress in stockings, a black silk sleeveless blouse, and houndstooth pencil skirt with a matching blazer. You leave your hair in its natural waves but pull half of it back with a clip. You move through your skincare routine before carefully putting some makeup on. You don’t always wear it, but first impressions matter to you. Especially first impressions with your idols.

By the time you finish getting ready, you only have about half an hour. You decide that you will get a coffee at the cafe and grab an assortment of pastries to share with the members. So, you slip on some heeled boots and head out the door.

At the cafe, you order your usual vanilla latte, iced this time, and a selection of croissants, muffins, and little coffee cakes. The barista carefully places all the items in a pastry box and hands it over. You carefully balance your coffee in one hand and the box in the other and head towards JYPE.

You can’t help but be nervous as you walk down the street. You never expected to be an artist manager for any group, let alone for a big group like Stray Kids. What if they don’t like you? What if you’re not good enough? So many “what ifs” circle your mind.

Like the day before, when you reach JYPE you check in at the front desk and are asked to wait a few minutes for someone to come down and escort you. You are not surprised when it is Bang Chan himself who comes to get you.

He, on the other hand, is quite surprised when he sees you. He didn’t expect their new artist manager to be someone so young, or so beautiful. He can’t help the way his eyes flick up and down your body appreciatively before stopping at your face. He’s seen your face before.

His eyes widen ever so slightly when he realizes where he’s seen your face before. He saw you at the cafe a few times. You were the one who was dancing to God's Menu. The one that caught the eye of every single one of his members, especially Han’s. Shit. Is Han gonna freak out?

While awkwardly holding the pastry box in one hand and your coffee in the other you manage to bow and say “Hello. It’s nice to meet you!”

“Hello,” Chan says with a warm smile before holding out his hands, “please allow me.”

Despite your protests that you can manage just fine, he takes the pastry box from you and gestures for you to follow after him. He leads you upstairs silently. Although you just met, the silence feels comfortable, more friendly than awkward.

He stops outside.a practice room. Even through the door, you can hear the rowdiness that awaits in the room. Chan gives you a sheepish smile, “they can be a little crazy, but they mean well. Are you ready?”

You nod your head and he knocks before opening the door and walking in.

Chan left him and the others in their practice room to go get their new manager from the front desk about 10 minutes ago. Since then, his leg has been bouncing up and down while he picks at the cuticles of his fingers.

His anxiety ticks higher and higher the longer he waits. He doesn't like meeting new people and he doesn't particularly understand why they need a new manager. His thoughts are only interrupted when Minho places a hand on his leg - comforting him, reassuring him.

He takes a deep breath when there is a knock on the door. He looks up when it opens. Chan walks in and locks eyes with him before stepping to the side to allow the new manager to come in.

His mouth falls open when he sees that it's you. He’s been thinking of you - pining after you - for weeks and now here you are.

How mysterious of you.

You follow Bang Chan into the room. They all line up before you. You bow politely and introduce yourself, “Hello. My name is Y/N and I look forward to working with you all.”

The boys line up to give their traditional greeting, “Hana, dul, Step Out! Hello, we are Stray Kids!” They all bow in unison before each member steps forward to introduce themselves individually.

“Hi I’m Bang Chan, Chan, or Chris.”

“I’m Lee Know or Minho.”

“Seo Changbin!”

“I’m Hwang Hyunjin.”

When it gets to Han, his brain simply short-circuits. “I- I- I’m…” he stutters. He flushes in embarrassment and his breathing picks up. “I can’t do this,” he mumbles and runs out of the room past you.

Everyone stands still in shock and there is a heavy moment of silence before Minho excuses himself and follows after him. You can’t help but wonder if you said or did something wrong.

Felix is the first to break the silence with his deep voice. “I’m Lee Felix, or Yongbok. That was Han Jisung - he can, uh, get very anxious meeting new people. I'm sure he'll be back in a few.” He smiles at you reassuringly.

Seungmin scoffs lightly. “I guess we're just continuing on then. I’m Kim Seungmin.”

Jeongin introduces himself last, with his signature fox-eyed smile. “Hi Noona! I’m I.N. or Jeongin. I look forward to working with you.”

With introductions complete, Chan holds up the box and says “Y/N was kind enough to bring us some treats from the cafe! Please enjoy them and get to know her a little. I’m going to go check on Minho and Jisung.”

Chan finds both of his missing members in their recording studio where Jisung is crouched in the corner, clearly in distress. He’s grabbing his hair with both fists and his eyes are red-rimmed when he looks up. “Hyungs! What do I do?” he wails. “I’ve made such a fool of myself in front of her. I was just anxious, what if she thinks I hate her?”

Chan crouches down next to him and pats his head. “She doesn’t think that, Sungie. Felix told her you have trouble meeting new people sometimes.”

“Of all people, why did our new manager have to be her?” he moans. “I’ve been thinking of her for weeks! It's so embarrassing” he whines. “She’s literally the girl of my dreams. How can I even face her now?”

Chan shares a knowing look with Minho before standing up and offering a hand to help him up. “Let’s start by going back and saying hi. Everything else can come after.”

After Chan leaves the practice room to find Minho and Jisung, you take a seat with the remaining members. They all thank you for the pastries and help themselves while you sip your coffee.

Just a few minutes later, the door to the practice room opens and Chan, Minho, and Han enter. Han gives you a sheepish, lopsided smile and bows. “Hello, I'm Han Jisung. I- I'm sorry about earlier.” He rubs the back of his neck, “I, uh, got overwhelmed… and embarrassed...” he trails off with an awkward chuckle.

“It's nice to meet you, Han,” you smile at him reassuringly. You definitely understand being overwhelmed and embarrassed. “Would you all like to hear a bit about me?” you ask, looking around at all the others.

They all nod, so you begin with your love of music and how the Kpop scene had caught both your eyes and ears as a teen. Inspired, you made it your dream to come here to Seoul. Although you are a native English speaker, you developed a passion for languages over time. With your main focus on Korean and Japanese, you explain how you originally wanted to be an Interpreter. Hearing this, Felix is excited to talk to another native English speaker and Minho asks to practice his Japanese with you.

Chan asks you how long you’ve been here in Seoul. You say you’ve only been here for a couple months. You graduated from Uni and immediately moved across the world by yourself. You mention how you haven’t really had the time to explore the city, but you frequent the cafe nearby. Several members notice how you smile a bit wistfully as you think about how hard you had to work, and how hard it's been by yourself.

The wistfulness dissipates as you casually mention that you’ve been a Stay since their debut. Describing how you find solace in their music and let it ground through some of the tougher times. You fix your eyes to the ground, not wanting to see their reactions. You can barely believe you have been given this opportunity. While you're excited to work with them, you're immensely embarrassed by how much information you just shared.

You mingle with the members for about half an hour. For their part, the boys are impressed with how hard you've clearly worked to get here. They're all welcoming, and eager to ask you various questions. They all feel an urge to protect you.

While Han doesn't really contribute to the conversation, you often find his eyes on you. You won’t ever have to be alone again, Y/N, he thinks.

The boys, as you refer to them collectively, eventually had to actually start dance practice. Chan kindly welcomed you to stay and watch, so you did. It was simply incredible to witness the passion and dedication of each member up close. You were fascinated by the strength and precision with which they move their bodies.

That night your thoughts are as plagued with Jisung as his are with you. You lay awake staring at the ceiling. Your thoughts drifting to the way you kept finding Han’s soft brown eyes on you throughout your meeting. Even during their dance practice, he had looked at you - you had met his eyes in the mirror several times.

Thinking about his gaze now makes your skin heat. Your eyes flutter shut as you think about how good he looked - how tiny his waist looked as he moved. Your breathing hitches as you think of how his hips turned and rolled with their dance moves. Your body heats further as your thoughts spiral.

You’re feeling desperate. You haven’t been touched in so long - by either your hands or another’s. Fueled by your thoughts of Jisung, you begin thumbing over a nipple while the hand other snakes down your body to slide into your sleep shorts. You can already feel some wetness seeping out.

You slide a finger through your folds to gather your slick before lightly circling your clit. You lightly pinch and roll your nipple - imagining it's Han’s mouth. A soft moan falls from your mouth. Pleasure pools at your center and ripples outward as you rub faster.

Imagining his fingers, you dip your own into your core. First one, then two fingers stroking - sliding in and out. Every so often, you return to your clit. Strumming yourself higher, tension coiling inside you.

Your free hand pinches and pulls at your nipples. Eventually you sink three fingers into yourself, desperately seeking the stretch your pussy aches for. You stroke your fingers faster until you finally find your release, legs tensing as the pleasure coiled inside you unwinds. Your walls clench and pulse around your fingers.

As you come down from your high “Jisung” falls from your lips in a whisper.

Later, you'll feel guilty. He's an idol and you're his manager. And what you just did was inappropriate.

But right now you feel sated for the first time in a long time. You manage to get to the bathroom to clean yourself up before relaxing into the covers. Sleep comes to you quickly now.

You’re on Han’s mind more than ever. Now you’re more than “the girl at the cafe.” He met you and talked to you. You’re intelligent, passionate about music (their music) and oh so fucking beautiful. Since dance practice ended Jisung has been holed up in his room scribbling lyrics nonstop.

He finishes his lyrics in the middle of the night, runs to Chan’s room and bangs open the door. “Channie hyung!” he exclaims. “I wrote a song but I want your help making a beat.” He hands him his scribbled lyrics. “It’s a sexy concept.”

Chan hums and nods while he reads the lyrics. When he finishes he asks “this song is about Y/Nie?”

“Mhm,” he hums affirmatively.

“You’re down bad, Sungie,” Chan teases.

He flushes and groans, flopping onto Chan’s bed. “I know.”

The room falls silent save for Chan’s clicking as he samples different beats for the track. Although he is the one who asked for help, Han has mostly fallen asleep on Chan’s bed when he speaks up.

“You’ll have to be careful, you know? I won’t stop you from pursuing her, but be careful.”

Your first few weeks as a manager for Stray Kids are busy but uneventful. Your day to day activities vary from learning to manage the kids schedules to sitting in on their studio or dance practice sessions.

Everyone, at a minimum, is welcoming and polite to you. Some of the members, like Minho, Seungmin, and Jeongin are more aloof. They greet you, and answer any questions you might have, but don't go out of the way to interact with you.

Chan, Changbin, and Hyunjin are pretty neutral towards you. Friendly but strictly professional. Chan is usually stressed and almost always in leader or producer mode. Changbin is friendly but if he's not in the studio or at dance practice, he's usually in the gym. And Hyunjin gravitates more towards his art or dance than you.

On the other hand Lix and Ji, as you have begun to call Felix and Jisung, warmed up to you immediately. You understand why Stays call them the sunshine twins. Their contagious energy is bright and playful. They are generally found trying to make you laugh or being physically affectionate. They also never hesitated to call you noona, even though you didn't ask them to.

Jisung, especially, seems to find reasons to be around you. One day he brought you a vanilla latte and croissant from the cafe when he went out to get drinks for the rest of 3racha. You were so surprised he knew your favorite order and you flashed him your brightest smile. Since then you often find little treats or drinks at your desk.

Whenever you are in the same room together - and you are often in the same room whether the studio or the practice room - you feel the weight of his gaze. You know it should make you uncomfortable, you're his manager, but you find it does the opposite.

Under his gaze your body heats and desire pools low in your belly. You find yourself thinking of him in inappropriate ways - imagining his fingers sliding over your body instead of his eyes. Imagining the coolness of his rings against your heated flesh. Your mind often gets the better of you and you find yourself subtly squeezing your thighs together in an effort to find release.

You often return home to your apartment with wet panties and a knot in your stomach of pent up sexual frustration. You frequently give in to your fantasies, bringing yourself to climax in the shower, in the bath, in your bed. Imagining that the fingers stroking through your folds, sinking inside your pussy are his instead of yours.

It is much the same for Han.

The time he spends around you in the studio and practice room is agonizing. His eyes are on you constantly - studying your body, your mannerisms, your reactions. He learns early on that you're very expressive. He loves bringing you treats or drinks just to see your smile light up the room. He loves cracking jokes and goofing around with the others just to hear you laugh.

The way you dress drives him crazy - each outfit highlights your body and its curve in the most tantalizing ways. They are always professional, even if they aren’t necessarily demure. On many occasions his thoughts drift away to daydreams of undressing you and worshiping at the temple that is your body. Usually he can control himself, on occasion he has had to excuse himself to the bathroom, hiding the tent that has formed in his pants.

In the bathroom, he pulls up his shirt, holding it between his teeth while he pulls down his pants freeing his leaking cock. He leans against the wall with one hand and spreads his precum around the head of his cock with the thumb of the other. His eyes squeeze shut as he slowly sinks his fist down his shaft.

His breath hisses out around the shirt in his mouth. He strokes slowly once. Twice. Thrice. Biting back his moans he strokes faster and faster until it’s more efficient to fuck into his fist. He whines as his climax hits and he spills over his hand.

Breathing hard, he releases his shirt from his mouth. There is a dark patch where his saliva has soaked into the cloth. As his breath slows, he cleans and tucks himself away. After washing his hands, he saunters back to the studio or practice room, wherever he excused himself from.

One day, you’re in the studio with Chan, Jisung, and Changbin. This wasn’t unusual - 3Racha frequently invited you into their studio to listen to their new tracks ever since your first week when you had helped them fix a track. You reflect on how you had thought you ruined it all.

You were sitting unobtrusively in the corner of their studio listening to them mix a beat. You knew they were talented but their skills still blew you away. However, they had been arguing about a particular section of the track for about 5 minutes before you blurted out a few off-hand suggestions.

You slapped your hand over your mouth in disbelief and they all turned to you in shock. Chan’s brow furrows and your heart sinks. There's a long moment of silence, broken when you say, “I'm sorry, that was out of line,” your voice wavering.

Certain that you’ve ruined everything, tears form in the corners of your eyes. You’re not sure what you’re going to do but you need to get out of here. You stand, gathering your laptop, and beeline it for the door. Your hand is on the door handle when Chan finally speaks up. “Where are you going? Aren't you going to help us?”

Your thoughts are disrupted by Chan and Changbin standing up announcing they needed a break and were heading to the gym. That leaves you with Jisung. Alone. You miss the pointed look Chan gives Jisung as they head out the door.

The door clicks shut behind Chan and Changbin leaving behind resounding silence. Jisung takes a deep inhale of your heady jasmine scent, which has slowly filled the small studio. With a soft but determined voice he speaks up.

“Manager Y/N ssi, there’s a song I wanted to share with you. Will you listen?”

Intrigued, you nod and a few clicks later the sensual tones of Wow start playing.

You’re drawn in first by the electro bass tone. You can feel it resonating with your body, in your body. You close your eyes to really focus on the music. You’re so engrossed in the song, you don’t even notice that Jisung has leaned over close to you until his breath fans against your ear.

He whispers. “I bet you’re wondering who the song is about, noona - I can call you noona, right?”

His breath tickles against your ear and you can't help the shiver that crawls down your spine, nor the goosebumps that spread over your skin. You can already feel your skin begin to flush just in response to his proximity. You discreetly press your thighs together as you feel a pulse of desire. You clear your throat but your voice betrays you and you can only nod.

“I wrote this for you, Noona. This is the way you make me feel - from the very first time I saw you to even now” His voice is soft and husky. His hand comes up to cup your chin, the cold metal of his rings a stark contrast to your flushed face. “You're so beautiful,” he croons. Still gripping your chin, he turns your head to face him. His half-lidded eyes meet yours, his pupils are blown wide with desire.

You gasp and close your own eyes as the pulse of desire grows to a steady thrum. Stifling a moan you press your thighs together again. His full lips curve into a smirk as he slides his other hand between your lush thighs. He squeezes a thigh gently before slowly sliding his hand higher.

Your breath hitches and you can feel the arousal beginning to leak from you. He stops when his fingertips are just a hair's breadth from your black lacy panties.

“Do you want this, noona? Do you want me? You can say no at any time.” His voice is lower. Desperate.

“Please, Jisung,” you moan. “I want you. I want this.” And you do. Your panties have grown damp, and your clit already throbs with need. You shift your legs open to give him better access. “Please touch me.”

The words barely pass your lips before his lips are crashing down on them. His lips are soft and he kisses you with a fervent passion. He gently licks at your lower lip, asking for entrance. You hum in approval and part your lips. His tongue presses into your mouth and dances together with yours - licking, caressing, tasting.

As he deepens the kiss, you bring your hands to the back of his neck, drawing him closer. At the same time, Han finally brushes his fingers over your panties and you whimper at the contact.

“Fuck noona, you're so wet,” he groans. “Your panties are soaked. All this for me?” he asks breathlessly. Pushing your panties to the side he swipes a finger through your folds gathering your wetness.

You gasp as he makes contact with your clit and rubs gentle circles. “Yes, Ji!” you moan. “All for you.”

His lips return to yours as he eases a finger into you. You moan at the intrusion. It's been so long since you had anything but your own fingers inside of you. He slowly pumps it in and out, stroking your walls until he feels you slick up more.

He pulls his lips away from yours. “Do you think you can take another?”

You pant and roll your hips against his hand in response.

He presses a second finger into you and you throw your head back. As he works his fingers in and out he spreads them apart, slowly scissoring you open. You moan wantonly, your pussy absolutely dripping.

He increases the speed of his fingers and your pleasure climbs higher and higher. He presses soft kisses down your neck, careful not to leave a mark.

“Ji- Ji-” you pant, barely able to form a coherent thought, let alone a sentence.

Your walls are fluttering and gripping his fingers. “Your cunt is sucking my fingers back in,” he mumbles in awe, more to himself than you.

He crooks his fingers seeking that spongy spot deep inside you. When he finds it, he presses into it with each stroke of his fingers until you’re quivering in the chair. “I can feel how close you are. Will you cum for me, noona?” he asks as he presses his thumb to your clit.

It's the last bit of stimulation you need to tip over the precipice. Your legs lock and quiver as your back arches and you fall apart with a cry. Your pussy pulses and gushes around his fingers as he continues thrusting his fingers at a languid pace, helping you through your high.

Han has always thought you were gorgeous. But looking at your face while you're at the height of your pleasure? He doesn't think you've ever been more beautiful. The image of your flushed face with eyes squeezed shut and mouth slack will be seared into his brain for eternity.

His cock is hard as steel and leaking copious amounts of precum into his boxer briefs. It's truly a wonder he hasn't cum in his pants already.

As your orgasm fades, he finally withdraws his fingers from your pussy. He sucks them into his mouth. His eyes flutter shut and he makes the sweetest moan. Your essence tastes exquisite - sweet but with a perfect amount of tang. One day, if you let him, he'll drink it straight from the source. He is certain he could spend forever between your thighs, but right now he needs to be inside of you.

You watch as Jisung withdraws from you. Your slick clings to him and forms a thin strand between his fingers. You watch as he brings his fingers to his mouth and cleans them with his tongue. His eyes flutter shut and he moans. Your empty cunt clenches around nothing when he moans. It is possibly the single hottest thing you’ve witnessed a partner do.

You drop your eyes to where his cock is straining against his pants. You reach out a hand to cup him and he hisses. Heat radiates through his clothing. Emboldened by his reaction you squeeze gently. He whimpers. You can feel how he throbs with each passing heartbeat.

You undo the button of his jeans and tug the fly open before sliding your hand inside. He's rock hard and leaking. You slide your thumb over his slit, gathering and spreading his copious amount of precum around. Wrapping your fingers around his cock you jerk him a few times, twisting your wrist as you pass over his leaking tip.

He practically growls - grasping your wrist and removing your hand before picking you up. He moves over to the studio’s couch and lays you down gently before climbing on top of you.

He wastes no time undressing you. He connects his lips to yours in a passionate kiss while his hands slide your skirt and panties down your legs. Breaking the kiss briefly, he pulls them free from your feet and lets them fall unceremoniously to the floor.

His lips reconnect to yours while his fingers begin unbuttoning your blouse, pushing it open. Pulling back, he drinks in the sight of your black lace bra and moans appreciatively. He hooks a finger into the front and tugs it down until your breasts spill free.

He attaches his lips to one of your breasts and begins suckling at it, laving the nipple with his tongue until it stiffens into a tight peak. Satisfied, he switches to the other. He catches the nipple with his teeth - biting and tugging. All the while, he pinches and rolls your other nipple between his thumb and forefinger, tugging here and there.

You gasp at the searing bolt of pleasure it sends straight to your pussy. Your neglected clit throbs and your rock your hips seeking friction.

“So responsive, noona,” Ji breathes out. “I bet I could make you cum just like this.”

You whine and shift your hips more.

Compared to you, Jisung is wearing far too much clothing. With fumbling hands you pull his shirt over his head and it joins your clothes on the floor. His body is soft but toned. You run your fingers appreciatively down the planes of his abdomen. You can feel the muscles tense underneath your touch.

You push his pants down his thighs and he finishes shucking them off. When he returns to his kneeling position between your thighs, you look up at him through your lashes. He looks gorgeous - godly even. His golden skin glistens with a thin sheen of sweat. His cock stands proud against his abdomen - long with just enough girth. The tip is red and leaking.

You lick your lips, “Ji-, I need to feel you. I need to feel you inside of me,” you practically beg.

You eagerly watch as he grips the base of his cock, but instead of lining it up with your entrance, he slaps it against your bundle of nerves. You gasp in surprise and then moan as he ruts his hips forward into yours. He slides himself through your slick folds once, twice, thrice. His head catches on your clit each time and you whine, clenching uselessly around empty air.

“Please, Jisung!” you beg, canting your hips up to meet his.

He takes mercy on you and himself and lines himself up. He sheathes himself inside you, all the way to the hilt. The tip of his cock kisses your cervix and you both moan.

“Shit, noona, you feel so fucking good,” he mumbles. “So tight and wet.”

You slide your arms around his neck and pull him closer as he starts to slowly rock in and out of you. You pull him in for a messy kiss before trailing open-mouthed kisses down his neck. As much as you wish to lick and suck, you refrain - taking care not leave any marks.

He pulls back from you slightly in order to take a nipple into his mouth again. You arch your back and roll your hips to meet his. His thrusts are strong and steady and you moan every time he bottoms out. “Ji- fuck- ao good- nnngh.”

He releases your nipple from his mouth and extends his arms to full length. You slide your hands down around his biceps and grip tightly as you feel your orgasm building. You tilt your head up to look at him - even in your hazy, lust-filled state you can’t help but acknowledge his good looks. The way his hair sticks to the sweat at his temples. The way his mouth pops open as you clench down around him.

“I’m close, Jisung!” you pant.

Propping himself with just one arm, Jisung snakes a hand between your bodies to find your clit. His fingers only circle the bundle nerves twice before you’re falling over the edge.

Your mouth falls open in a silent scream and your back arches. Jisung tries to keep fucking your through your high, but your walls clamp down like a vice and his hips stutter.

“Shit, Noona, you’re too tight,” he gasps. “I’m gonna cum, can I cum inside? Please, please, please,” be begs.

You have enough wherewithal left to nod and that’s all it takes. He buries himself deep inside and you feel his cock pulse and twitch, filling you with his cum.

He more or less collapses on top of you, and you giggle and say, “wow, was it that good, Sungie?”

He nods and lays his head on your chest. You wrap your arms around him and hold him close.

You stay like that for a few minutes before he pulls out and stands up. “Let’s find you something to clean up with,” he says as he looks around the room. “There should be some takeout napkins around here somewhere…”

You sit up and watch him move around the room. You admire his naked form as he didn’t bother putting on his clothes first. Eventually he exclaims “Aha!” and triumphantly holds up a handful of napkins. You giggle again and he flashes you a lopsided grin.

You and Jisung clean yourselves up and get dressed before you excuse yourself to the bathroom. In the bathroom you do your business and clean yourself up a little more. As you’re washing your hands, your study reflection in the mirror.

Your face is flushed, and you can’t stop smiling. You can’t believe you just did that! You had sex! With Han Jisung! One of your idols! You’re not really sure what it means for your future, so all you can do is splash some cold water on your face and the back of your neck and try not to think about it too much.

You return to the studio and sit next to Jisung who smiles at you kindly and asks, “did you want to listen to the song again?”

You nod and you get about halfway through the song before Chan and Changbin return.

They look at you and Jisung sitting next to each other and say, “man you really went at it. It reeks of sex in here!”

You face flames red and you look mortified, but before you can even begin to panic or apologize Chan says, “Don’t worry about a thing, Y/N. We encouraged Sungie to make a move, and this doesn’t have to change a thing. You let us worry about the company.”

A/N: This is the first fic I've done based on a request. I hope you like it @kayleefriedchicken, I'm sorry it took so long. I'm really not a fast writer by any means. Also, I don't have a tag list yet, but if you find you've been liking what I've been writing, I would be happy to start one up. Love you all, my dear readers.

#Spotify #stray kids fanfic #stray kids ff #skz fanfic #skz ff #skz smut #han jisung smut #han jisung x reader #pali : requests #pali : skz discography #pali-writes-atiny-bit fic

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