#in imagines

[luckyroll3]

The Art of Seduction

My Masterlist

Summary: Hyunjin is a passionate artist who likes to be kept. He encounters Evelyn Moore, the socialite known for ‘sponsoring’ hot, young talent. Drawn to his talent and undeniable allure, Evelyn offers him a lucrative arrangement—her financial support in exchange for his companionship. Hyunjin accepts but refuses to be fully owned, turning their dynamic into a game of power, seduction, and control.

Hyunjin x Original Character (f); Hyunjin x Original Character (m); Hyunjin x Jeongin; Smut

Warnings: This work of fiction is intended for 18+ audiences only. Includes explicit sexual content, graphic language, sex work, etc. Author chooses to not extensively tag in order to preserve some elements of storytelling.

Word Count: 16,685

A/N: Second of my two Hyunjin birthday fics. This is the dirty one. (The cute one can be found here.) Enjoy!

Also, this is in the same universe as my other story Chef's Kiss (Evelyn Moore is the owner of Saffron and Thyme).

The gallery hummed with the quiet murmur of conversation, the clinking of champagne flutes, the soft shuffle of designer heels against polished marble. Evelyn Moore had been to countless events like this—lavish showcases where the elite mingled, pretending to understand the art they purchased more for status than appreciation.

Evelyn stepped into the gallery, and the room shifted, drawn into her orbit. Her hair was swept into a dark halo, her skin luminous under the soft lighting. Hyunjin watched as she paused, her gaze arrested by the portrait that dominated the far wall. The painting had stopped her in her tracks. He felt a thrill as her lips parted, and he wondered if she was aware of the eyes following her every move, or if she cared.

The painting was a clash of vivid strokes and raw emotion, an abstract portrait, undeniably sensual that seemed to pulse with life. It was the first thing anyone saw when they entered the gallery, but it was more than just its size that commanded attention. Deep strokes of crimson and black melded into the suggestion of a body, the barest hint of parted lips, a hand pressed against unseen skin. It wasn’t just art. It was desire captured in motion.

Evelyn moved closer, drawn in by the chaos of color and texture. Her expression was one of intrigue, and she tilted her head, studying the way the lines seemed to twist and turn in on themselves, almost like they were moving. Hyunjin had poured himself into the piece, and seeing her captivated by it sent a jolt of satisfaction through him. He imagined the way it must look through her eyes—untamed yet controlled, beautiful yet unsettling.

He approached her, his movements fluid and unhurried. His voice, smooth and laced with amusement, interrupted her thoughts. “You like it?”

Evelyn turned, her dark eyes meeting his. She blinked, a flicker of surprise passing over her features as she took him in.

Hyunjin Hwang was stunning—long, wavy, ink-dark hair tied loosely at the nape, sharp cheekbones, and full lips curled into a smirk that suggested he knew exactly what effect he had on people. He was young, mid-twenties, with an effortless confidence that most men twice his age could only pretend to possess.

Hyunjin was used to that reaction, the way people often paused, recalibrating when faced with his striking appearance. He let it hang in the air between them, a moment of silent recognition, before speaking.

“I do,” Evelyn said, lifting her glass to her lips.

"It's always interesting to see which pieces draw people in," Hyunjin said, a hint of a smile on his lips.

Her gaze lingered on him, and he saw the spark of curiosity there, mingling with something more. "It's stunning," she replied, her voice smooth and cultured. "And completely unlike anything I've seen before."

Hyunjin took a step closer, letting the proximity build a subtle tension. "I'm glad it caught your eye."

Evelyn's lips curved, an elegant arc that spoke of amusement and interest. She leaned in and peered at the label to the right of the canvas to read the artist’s name. "Hyunjin Hwang," she said, the name rolling off her tongue with a familiarity that suggested she'd done her homework. She eyed him. "Your reputation precedes you."

He gave a small, playful shrug, as if to say he couldn't help it. "I could say the same, Evelyn Moore."

Her laugh was soft, a mere suggestion of sound. "I suppose that's true." She glanced back at the painting, then at him. "It's yours, then."

"Every last stroke," Hyunjin confirmed, watching her reaction carefully. She was everything he'd expected—poised, confident, and utterly unflappable. But there was a gleam in her eyes now, a new interest sparked by the realization that the artist was as captivating as the art.

“It’s… provocative. And absolutely stunning. Though I imagine that’s exactly what you expected to hear.”

Hyunjin chuckled, tilting his head as he studied her with an intensity that sent a slow heat curling through her stomach. “Not necessarily. People either love my work or think it’s indulgent nonsense.” His gaze flickered back to the painting. “I paint what I feel. If that resonates, then great.” He looked at her again, this time with something unreadable in his expression. “I take it you like the way I feel.”

Evelyn arched a brow. Bold. She liked that.

Evelyn's eyes darted between him and the canvas. "The raw emotion," she said finally. "It's... visceral. Primal. Like looking at the essence of desire made tangible."

Hyunjin felt a thrill run through him at her words. Most people saw only the technical skill, the composition. But she got it, the core of what he was trying to convey.

"That's exactly what I was going for," he said softly. "Stripping away pretense, exposing the animal beneath the clothes and manners."

Their eyes met and held. Hyunjin could practically feel the electricity crackling between them.

Evelyn broke the silence first. "You're very talented, Mr. Hwang. And..." her gaze raked over him again, unabashedly hungry this time. "Clearly your own best model."

Hyunjin laughed, low and throaty. "I do enjoy... exploring the human form. In all its variations."

He let the silence stretch, comfortable and charged.

Before she could respond, another voice chimed in, breaking the moment.

“Hyunjin, are you flirting with a potential buyer again?”

A young man—shorter, bright-eyed, with tousled dirty blond hair—grinned as he joined them. Jeongin moved with an easy grace, his slight frame clad in a mix of thrifted designer and streetwear. A beanie perched on his head, contrasting with the sharpness of his wire-rimmed glasses. His energy was playful, easy. He nudged Hyunjin with his elbow.

“Evelyn Moore, meet my best friend and the real troublemaker of this gallery,” Hyunjin introduced, rolling his eyes. “Jeongin Yang.”

Evelyn extended a hand, offering Jeongin a knowing smile. “Charming to meet you. Are you really the troublemaker?”

Jeongin shook her hand, his grip firm yet teasing. “Only in the best way.” He gestured toward a collection of framed photographs behind him. “I specialize in capturing the world through my lens. Less paint, more light.”

“He’s a phenomenal photographer,” Hyunjin cooed. “I think you’d really like his stuff.”

Evelyn arched a brow, her interest clearly piqued by the newcomer. "Photographer, huh?"

Jeongin cast a quick glance at Hyunjin, a silent acknowledgment of his friend's promotional efforts. "Guilty as charged," he said, his tone dry and playful. "But don't hold it against me."

Evelyn laughed, the sound fuller this time, and Hyunjin could see the way she assessed Jeongin as her gaze swept over him—sharp and quick, taking in his understated artistic style and the quiet ambition beneath. She was intrigued, and he knew she wouldn't resist taking a closer look at what Jeongin had to offer.

"Jeongin here is incredibly talented," Hyunjin said, placing a hand on the small of Jeongin's back. He savored the familiar warmth and he knew Jeongin secretly liked it when Hyunjin touched him like this. "His work captures the raw, unfiltered essence of his subjects. It's really quite remarkable."

Jeongin quirked an eyebrow. "Don't oversell it, Jinnie. I just point and click."

Hyunjin laughed, the sound rich and musical. "Ever the humble artist."

"If this one’s talking up your work," Evelyn said, her gaze flicking between the two of them, "then I'm curious."

"Then we should show you. Come." Hyunjin replied, grabbing her hand firmly to lead her deeper into the gallery. “I think you'll be impressed, Evelyn.” He walked with purpose, Jeongin and Evelyn flanking him, the three of them an eclectic trio that turned heads as they passed.

Evelyn walked over to the wall, taking in Jeongin’s work—striking black-and-white images with a raw, almost voyeuristic intimacy. She wasn’t sure she would have bought one before, but something about Hyunjin’s lingering gaze on her made her want to indulge them both.

They stopped in front of a large-format black and white photograph, its composition striking and evocative. It depicted a nude figure, their face obscured, curled in on themselves as if in pain or ecstasy. The play of light and shadow emphasized every curve and plane. Jeongin's eye for detail was evident in the way the image seemed to tell a story, layers of meaning and emotion captured in a single frame. Evelyn stood in silence, absorbing the piece with the same intensity she'd shown for Hyunjin's work.

"Exquisite, isn't it?" Hyunjin murmured in her ear, his eyes on Evelyn's face to gauge her reaction.

She stepped closer, drinking in the details. "It's beautiful," she said finally, and Hyunjin saw the way Jeongin's face lit up, pleased and a little surprised by the praise. "Evocative. There's an undercurrent of vulnerability, yet also strength. Quite compelling."

"Thank you," Jeongin replied, his voice sincere and a touch shy. "It's called 'Duality'," he said quietly. "An exploration of the masks we wear and the truths we hide."

Evelyn's lips curved into a slow smile. "How much?"

Hyunjin blinked in surprise. He hadn't expected her to be so direct. But then, Evelyn Moore, from what he had heard, was a woman who knew what she wanted.

"It's not actually for sa—" Jeongin began, but Hyunjin cut him off with a subtle squeeze to his arm.

"I'm sure we could work something out," Hyunjin said smoothly. "Jeongin's work is in high demand, but for the right collector..." He trailed off suggestively.

Evelyn's eyes gleamed. "Name your price."

Hyunjin could practically see the wheels turning in her head. This wasn't just about the photograph – it was a power play. Evelyn's choice was deliberate, a move to endear herself to him, to curry favor with him by supporting his friend, investing in his friend's success. Clever. It was a gesture that showed her understanding of the dynamics at play, and he found himself even more drawn to her because of it.

He grinned, then named an obscene amount, more than triple what the piece was actually worth, knowing that Jeongin would undervalue himself. Evelyn didn't even blink.

"Done," she said, reaching into her clutch for her checkbook. "I look forward to hanging it in my penthouse. Perhaps you could both come by sometime to see how I've displayed it."

The invitation hung in the air, laden with possibility. Hyunjin felt a thrill of anticipation curl in his gut. 

"We'd be delighted," he purred, his gaze locked with Evelyn's. The sexual tension between them was palpable. He felt Jeongin nudge him, a wordless thank you.

"I'll have my assistant handle the details," she said, already moving toward the next exhibit.

“Thank you Ms. Moore. This was truly unexpected,” Jeongin said.

“Please call me Evelyn, darling. And exceptional work always deserves to be recognized and appreciated.”

Jeongin nodded uncomfortably, not as great at receiving compliments as Hyunjin was. "If you'll excuse me, I need to inform the gallery owner of the sale." 

As he walked away, Hyunjin turned his full attention back to Evelyn. "Now, where were we?" he murmured, stepping closer. Her perfume enveloped him – jasmine and sandalwood with an undertone of raw, animal musk. It made his mouth water.

Evelyn's lips parted slightly. "I believe you were about to tell me more about your... artistic process." She glanced at him with a knowing look.

Hyunjin grinned, the promise of future meetings hanging in the air like the scent of expensive perfume. She was everything he wanted and more—a challenge, a patron, and possibly something else entirely.

The game was on.

As they walked through the gallery slowly, they discussed the art, each giving their interpretations and opinions. An hour passed easily.

A waiter walked by, refilling their champagne.

Hyunjin's eyes locked with Evelyn's as she leaned in close, her perfume intoxicating.

"I simply must have you paint my portrait," she purred, trailing a finger down his arm.

Her invitation dripped with promise. Hyunjin felt a familiar thrill, knowing exactly what game she was playing. He'd danced this dance before. 

"I'd be honored," he replied with a coy smile. "Though I typically bring my assistant to help with setup." 

It wasn't entirely a lie — Jeongin often did assist him. But Hyunjin also wanted his friend there, wanted him to reap some of the benefits, especially as it seemed she might like Jeongin too. 

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Of course, darling. Whatever makes you comfortable. I’ll send more details tomorrow.”

As Evelyn sauntered away to mingle, Hyunjin turned to look for Jeongin.

****

The invitation was handwritten on thick, creamy paper, and the address alone spoke volumes. Hyunjin traced the embossed letters with a fingertip, feeling the weight of the proposition. A private commission, it said, though he knew better than to think that was all it would be. Evelyn was testing him, seeing if he would play her game, and he felt the familiar thrill of anticipation mixed with the itch of rebellion.

He tossed the card onto the table where Jeongin sat hunched over his laptop, editing a batch of photos.

"Looks like I'm being summoned," Hyunjin said, watching for his friend's reaction.

Jeongin pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, glancing at the card. "Big surprise," he replied, a smirk tugging at his lips. "You going?"

Hyunjin shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "Thinking about it. Want to come with?"

Jeongin snorted. "To watch you and the cougar circle each other like horny lions? Hard pass."

 "Come on, I need you there," Hyunjin pleaded as he walked over to Jeongin and sat across his lap dramatically.

It was an honest offer, one Jeongin knew came from a place of genuine friendship and loyalty. But they both understood the unspoken dynamics, the undercurrents of Hyunjin's world that Jeongin genuinely wanted no parts of. Would he accept the charity and share in the spoils? Sure. But he wasn’t interested in being part of the ‘package’ being purchased.

"That's sweet, Jinnie," Jeongin said, a teasing lilt to his voice. “We both know what she wants from you," he continued with a wry smile. "And it's not my awkward ass third-wheeling. Go enjoy yourself, you idiot. I think you can handle the big bad sugar mama on your own."

“But I want you there,” Hyunjin whined as he nuzzled his nose into Jeongin’s neck and kissed it softly. Jeongin didn’t react, fully aware of the games Hyunjin liked to play. When he didn’t get the response he wanted, Hyunjin sighed dramatically. "Fine, abandon me to the wolves," he said with a pout. 

"Please, you love being the sexy prey," Jeongin teased.

Hyunjin threw his head back and laughed, the sound rich and unrestrained. "Suit yourself. But if I come back with a new Porsche, don’t expect a ride."

Jeongin rolled his eyes as he pushed Hyunjin off his lap, though Hyunjin saw the affection there, the encouragement beneath the sarcasm. "Go get that bread, sugar baby. Enjoy the fancy penthouse and the fancy lady," Jeongin said, turning back to his screen. "Just don't let her chew you up and spit you out."

Hyunjin knew it was a joke, but the words stayed with him as he made his way to Evelyn's address the following day. The building was a tower of glass and steel, a monument to wealth and power. He rode the elevator to the top floor, the numbers climbing higher and higher until they finally stopped with a soft chime. The doors opened, and he stepped into another world.

Evelyn's penthouse was a study in opulence, all sleek lines and minimalist elegance. The view stretched out beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city sprawling beneath like a playground for the rich and powerful. Hyunjin took it in with an artist's eye, appreciating the way it all seemed designed to impress and intimidate. But he wouldn't be intimidated. Not by Evelyn, and not by the luxury that surrounded her.

"Hyunjin," she greeted him, appearing from the depths of the apartment with a glass of wine in hand. She wore a long silk robe, black, that clung to her curves, understated yet devastatingly effective. "I'm glad you came."

He gave her a lazy smile, letting his gaze linger on her before taking the offered drink. "Hi Evelyn. Your home is... breathtaking," he said, his eyes roving over her body. “And I was curious."

"About the commission," she said, her tone making it clear that she knew that wasn't all he was curious about.

"Among other things," Hyunjin replied as he licked his lips.

Effortlessly, she led him to a nook by the window overlooking the cityscape. "We'll start here," she said, gesturing to a plush chaise. "You may begin anytime."

He found a spot where the light was good, and as Evelyn settled onto the chaise, he set his bag down and pulled out a sketchpad. Evelyn looked poised and perfect, as if she'd been born in that very position.

He began to sketch, his pencil moving in quick, assured strokes. The act of drawing her was intimate, an observation that went beyond skin deep, and he could feel the tension in the air, a live wire of possibility.

As he worked, Hyunjin was acutely aware of Evelyn's gaze on him. He could feel the electricity crackling between them, just like at the gallery. His heart raced, but he focused on his sketch, capturing every detail of her alluring form as he traced slow lines across his sketchpad.

"So, Hyunjin," Evelyn purred, breaking the silence. "Tell me, how do you like the city so far? You’ve been here, what? Six months?"

He didn't look up. "Closer to a year. It's... intense. But I like it."

"I bet," she said, her voice dripping with innuendo. "I heard you're quite the sensation. 'Untamed Hwang' they call you."

Hyunjin smirked. "You've done your research."

"Well, it pays to know the talent," she purred. They slipped into an easy silence again.

Hyunjin continued to sketch. He had been at this for nearly an hour, capturing her in ways she wasn’t used to being seen.

“You keep looking at me like that,” she murmured, “but I don’t think you’re seeing me at all.”

Evelyn crossed one leg over the other, her silk robe parting just enough to reveal smooth skin. His eyes flickered toward the movement, his hand stilling against the paper.

Hyunjin smirked. “Maybe I’m seeing more of you than you realize.”

"Is this how you usually work?" Evelyn asked, watching him with those sharp, knowing eyes.

Hyunjin looked up from the paper, meeting her gaze. "Depends on the subject," he said, letting the words hang suggestively between them.

She smiled, a slow curve that spoke of satisfaction and something more. "And how long does a portrait like this usually take?"

"That depends too," Hyunjin answered, his voice low and full of meaning. "On how much time you're willing to give me."

Evelyn laughed, a throaty, genuine sound that filled the space around them. "I see," she said, clearly enjoying the game. "Speaking of which, I have an... proposition for you." 

Sensing where this was going, Hyunjin's heart raced faster. He pretended to concentrate on his sketching, but his cock twitched with interest.

 "Oh?" he said casually.

She leaned forward slightly, allowing the tops of her bosom to peak out from the robe. “I want to make you an offer.”

Hyunjin finally set the sketchpad aside, resting an elbow on his knee as he regarded her. “An offer?”

"Yes, Hyunjin, I want you," Evelyn purred, her voice husky with desire. "As my exclusive artist, and... more."

 Hyunjin smiled wickedly. "And more?" he asked playfully as he raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, you know what I mean," she said, her eyes darkening. "I’ll support your career,” Evelyn said, voice measured. “Help you get the exposure you deserve. In exchange…” She let the implication hang between them.

Hyunjin exhaled a soft laugh, shaking his head. “You think you can buy me?”

“No,” Evelyn said. “I think we can both get what we want. You'd have everything you could ever want. Fame, fortune, a life of luxury. All I ask is your... companionship."

Hyunjin's mind raced with the possibilities. His cock, however, was already making the decision for him. "I'll think about it," he said, trying to sound nonchalant. But both of them knew it was already a done deal.

"Then perhaps we should discuss the terms."

"The terms," Hyunjin echoed, leaning back and crossing his arms, as if to say he wasn't afraid of what was coming next.

"You must know I don't just collect art," Evelyn said, her eyes never leaving his face. "I collect artists too."

Hyunjin didn't flinch, didn't look away. "I had a feeling."

"And yet you're here."

He let a small, enigmatic smile play on his lips. "I like to know what I'm getting into."

"Do you?" Evelyn asked, a challenge in her voice. "Or do you just like getting into things?"

He laughed, the sound rich and confident. "Both."

She uncrossed her legs, leaning forward with an intensity that matched his own. "I want you, Hyunjin. In every sense of the word."

The words were blunt, raw, and exactly what he'd expected. He admired her for not sugarcoating it, for being as direct and unapologetic as he was. "And what does that look like?" he asked, playing along, savoring the dance of power and desire.

"It looks like this," Evelyn said, reaching into a drawer and pulling out a check. She held it out to him, a silent dare, a test of how far he was willing to go.

Hyunjin took it, glancing at the number and feeling a jolt of something electric. His lips curved into a slow, wicked smile. Ten thousand dollars. Enough to fund his art for two months. Enough to remind him of exactly what this was—a transaction, an arrangement, a game he was more than willing to play.

“Ten thousand dollars?” He leaned closer, his voice dropping. “That’s all I’m worth to you?”

Evelyn met his gaze, unflinching. “It’s just a starting bid. I’m offering you a monthly stipend, a bungalow that I’ll rent for you, dedicated wall space in the gallery I co-own, and I’ll sponsor your own exhibition. I’ll also introduce you to the most influential people in the art world and lots of potential buyers.” Her words dripped with the promise of fortune and fame. “In return, I want you… whenever I want you.”

Hyunjin feigned surprise, but his cock strained against his pants, betraying his interest. Then Hyunjin chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m flattered, Evelyn.” A beat of silence.

"I told you what I want. What would you want from me?" Evelyn asked, her voice softer now, as if she already knew the answer.

He folded the check carefully, slipping it into his back pocket with a grace that was all his own. "I want to be kept… and full creative control over my art. Plain and simple," Hyunjin said, meeting her gaze with a mix of challenge and acceptance. “You should know something before we do this,” he said, voice low as he reached out, fingers tracing the bare skin of her thigh. “I don’t belong to anyone.”

Evelyn nodded, her expression one of approval and something else—something that suggested she was looking forward to the struggle of trying to tame him. Her breath hitched slightly at his touch, but she didn’t break. “Then let’s not pretend this is anything more than what it is. Does that work for you?”

“That works for me,” Hyunjin whispered.

"Then we have a deal."

Hyunjin studied her, dark eyes gleaming with something almost dangerous. Then, without another word, he closed the space between them, his mouth claiming hers in a kiss that was all heat and defiance.

Their arrangement had begun.

Evelyn's skin was soft and warm under his fingers, her robe a whisper as he slid it from her shoulders, revealing her smooth skin. She moved against him, all fluid grace and practiced elegance, but he could feel the urgency beneath it, the way she was as hungry for him as he was for her. Her lips found his neck, her breath hot and quick, and he let out a low sound that was almost a growl.

With deliberate slowness, Hyunjin’s shirt was peeled away, landing softly on the floor, while Evelyn’s hands roamed greedily over the defined planes of his chest and the sculpted hardness of his stomach. Her fingers deftly worked at the buttons of his jeans until she pulled them down in one fluid, determined motion. Then she turned to his briefs, designer, the signature Greek Key pattern of Versace etched along the band. Her eyes lit up at the sight of his cock straining against the fabric, and she swiftly freed it with a confident smile.

Rising with a commanding energy, she gently pushed him back onto the chaise, straddling him with a confidence that was as arousing as it was unsurprising. She positioned the tip of Hyunjin’s throbbing cock at her entrance.

"You're fucking beautiful," she breathed, her voice raw and trembling as she slid herself down his dick, sighing as he entered her. Hyunjin felt a surge of satisfaction at the awe in her words and the feeling of her moist warmth encasing him.

Hyunjin flipped her onto her back, pinning her beneath him, and she gasped, the sound turning into a laugh that was pure delight. "I know," he replied, his mouth on hers, swallowing her words before they could form. He started to thrust into her slowly.

He took his time, teasing her, letting his hands roam over her body, learning every inch of her. Her skin tasted like salt and expensive perfume, and she arched into him, demanding more, always more. He obliged, his touch firm and sure, until she was trembling beneath him, her composure slipping, her control unraveling.

"Hyunjin," she breathed, a plea and a command, and he knew exactly what she wanted.

He shifted, pulling her up so she was on top of him again, her hair falling around them like a dark curtain as she rode him. Her nails raked down his chest, and he hissed, the sting mingling with the pleasure in a way that made him dizzy.

Evelyn ground against him, a rhythm that was slow and torturous, and he grabbed her hips to set a faster pace. She moaned, the sound raw and uninhibited, and he reveled in the knowledge that he was the one making her come undone.

"Fuck," she gasped, and he couldn't tell if it was a curse or a demand or both.

He rolled them over again. He removed himself from her, then flipped her over, pushing her onto her stomach, her cheek pressed against the soft velvet fabric of the chaise, her pale ass jutting upward—a plump, quivering peach glistening with sweat. She looked back at him, her eyes dark with want, and he felt the last threads of restraint snap.

"Don't stop," she said, and he didn't. He hiked her ass up higher in the air and plunged his dick back into her sopping hole with a single, vicious thrust, balls-deep, her tight walls clamping down like a greedy fist. He set a rapid rhythm then slapped her ass hard enough to leave a crimson handprint blooming across her flesh, leaving no doubt about who was now in charge. She gasped but eagerly pushed back against him.

“Fuck… fuck! You take it like a goddamn pornstar,” he snarled, fingers digging bruises into her hips as he pistoned into her, the obscene slap-slap-slap of their bodies echoing off the penthouse walls. He moved inside her, deep and hard, pulling her back to meet every thrust. She cried out, a sound that was equal parts surrender and triumph, and he wondered if she'd ever been fucked like this, if anyone had ever dared to take her the way he was taking her now.

“This is what you wanted, right? Wanted me to wreck this pretty little pussy?” Each word dripped with malice, his breath scalding her ear as he fucked her harder, deeper, the head of his cock grinding against her cervix. She babbled nonsense, drool pooling on the chaise, her orgasm already coiling tight—he could feel it, the way her cunt tensed and fluttered around him, milking him like a bitch in heat.

He whispered in her ear again, his words hot and rough. "Cum for me, Evelyn," he whispered in a singsong voice. He peppered the back of her neck with gentle kisses, then bit into the soft skin.

She shattered, a broken, beautiful thing beneath him. He continued to fuck her roughly through her orgasm. As he felt himself getting closer too, he leaned down to whisper again. “I’m about to cum, baby. Is it okay to cum inside you or should I pull out?”

“Fill me up, beautiful,” she said in between moans. “I’m not a fucking co-ed.” Hyunjin smirked and followed her instructions. As he tumbled over the edge, the world blurred, the city lights spinning, everything reduced to the pure, unrelenting pleasure of the moment. He withdrew then collapsed alongside her.

They lay tangled together, the air cooling around them, their breathing slowly returning to normal. Evelyn turned her head, her lips curving into a satisfied, wicked smile. "I knew you'd be worth it."

Hyunjin laughed, a soft, sated sound. "You have no idea."

She shifted, propping up her chin on her fist. "And you?" she asked, her tone teasing and curious. "Was it worth it to you?"

"Ask me in the morning," Hyunjin said, pulling her back to him, already feeling the stirrings of desire.

The penthouse was quiet around them, the city a distant hum, the lights a soft glow. They didn't need words to understand what they had—a game, a partnership, a beautiful, reckless thing that was theirs to shape and define. Hyunjin closed his eyes, the scent of Evelyn and sex and triumph filling his senses, and let himself drift into a contented, unburdened sleep.

****

Hyunjin stepped out of the limousine, the cameras flashing like a summer storm, and felt the rush of attention soak through him. Evelyn was already on the sidewalk, her arm reaching for his, a perfectly sculpted smile on her lips. They made a striking pair—her in a backless crimson dress that turned heads and Hyunjin in a sleek black suit that clung to his long, lean frame. The photographers couldn't get enough, their shouts a chaotic symphony as they made their way toward the grand entrance.

The ballroom stretched before them like a lavish painting, all gold and ivory with chandeliers dripping crystal. Laughter and conversation mingled in the air, a well-bred hum that underscored the evening's elegance. Hyunjin soaked in the scene, his eyes flitting from the towering floral arrangements to the waitstaff gliding through the crowd with trays of champagne. The guests were a parade of high society, each more opulently dressed than the last, their jewels catching the light in dazzling bursts. This was Evelyn's world, and he wore it like a second skin.

Jeongin was already there, looking both out of place and right at home in one of Hyunjin's designer suits. It hung on him a bit loose, the charcoal gray contrasting with his delicate features and wire-rimmed glasses. Where Hyunjin was polished and poised, Jeongin was all understated cool, the thrifted tie and limited edition sneakers adding a rebellious touch to the formal affair. But he fit, slipping through the crowd with an easy grace, his quiet ambition evident in every sidelong glance at the art adorning the walls.

Hyunjin wasted no time diving into the sea of guests, Evelyn's arm still looped through his as they navigated the room. His charisma was electric, drawing people to him in waves. He flirted shamelessly, each smile and laugh a challenge to Evelyn's control. She introduced him to patrons and collectors, but it was Hyunjin who left them dazzled, his dark eyes and teasing words lingering long after they moved on. He knew she was watching, her poise a thin veneer over the jealousy he could feel simmering beneath.

Jeongin rejoined them after making his own rounds, and Hyunjin's attention shifted, the air between them crackling with a familiar energy. Their glances were quick and charged, a private conversation that needed no words. A brush of fingers as Jeongin passed him a drink, a shared smirk at something Evelyn said—each moment a spark that fanned the flames of Evelyn's unease.

She had always wondered about the two of them, wondered if there was something more between them beyond being roommates. Jeongin seemed enamored with Hyunjin, but then again, wasn't everyone? The man was otherworldly. But it was the way Hyunjin looked back at certain times, like he wanted to swallow the young man whole. Whether they had something in the past, or in the more recent future, she wasn't sure.

What she was sure about was that Hyunjin was flirting hard with everything in the room that had a pulse, and even harder with the rich ones. She maintained her composure, but her sharp, cutting remarks grew more frequent, thinly veiled barbs that betrayed her growing frustration.

The room buzzed around them, but Hyunjin was the center of gravity. His art was gaining recognition, and with it, whispers of independence that Evelyn couldn't ignore. She watched as he moved through the crowd, her carefully constructed world shifting with each flirtatious exchange he had. Hyunjin could feel the balance tipping, his own desires suddenly within reach, and he reveled in it.

After watching him whisper seductively into the ear of the Mayor's wife, causing her to giggle while his hand grazed her lower back, Evelyn pulled him aside, her smile as tight as the grip on his arm. They found a quiet corner, the noise of the gala a distant echo.

"You're quite the sensation tonight," she said, her voice smooth but laced with something darker.

Hyunjin leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. "You sound surprised," he replied, the challenge in his tone unmistakable.

She met his gaze, her dark eyes piercing and unyielding. "You should be careful not to spread yourself too thin, Jinnie. Some people don't like to share."

He laughed, a soft, dismissive sound. "You never seemed to mind before."

Her composure wavered, just for a moment, and he saw the flicker of something raw beneath. 

But she recovered quickly, her expression turning cool and calculating. "Don't get too comfortable," she warned, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I made you, and I can just as easily unmake you."

Hyunjin smirked, unperturbed by her threats. "We'll see about that." Hyunjin knew his art spoke for itself, with or without a financial backer. And if Evelyn didn’t want to give him money any more, Hyunjin had already identified several others who would.

They rejoined the party, the tension between them a live wire that sparked with every glance and touch. Hyunjin felt the power shifting, his growing recognition, albeit thanks to Evelyn, giving him a leverage he could use. Evelyn was still the queen of this world, but he was no longer content to be just another toy. The thought of wielding his own power thrilled him.

****

Evelyn's heels clicked sharply against the pavement as she approached the bungalow, her stride purposeful and her mind set on one thing. The night air was cool, a stark contrast to the heat simmering beneath her polished exterior. She hadn't planned on coming here tonight, but after her third dirty martini, she felt that familiar pulse between her legs. Also, the sight of Hyunjin flirting his way through the gala the previous weekend had unsettled something deep within her. This visit was a reminder, a calculated move to reassert her place in his life.

She knocked three times on the door and waited. After a minute passed, she depressed the handle and pushed the antique door open. Her name was on the lease, so she had every right to enter. The bungalow was quiet inside, the only sound the distant hum of the city behind her.

“Hello?” she called out as she stepped into the structure. She took a quick peek outside to confirm that she had seen Hyunjin’s Jeep Wrangler Hybrid outside. It was there, along with another car. She shut the front door and walked to Hyunjin’s room. She hesitated, her hand hovering over the doorknob, then pushed inside.

The scene that greeted her was not what she expected. The air reeked of sweat and spilled lube. Hyunjin was in bed, his long hair disheveled, a dark tangle against white sheets, his body entwined with another man's. Charles Blackwood, the wealthy CEO in his early 60s she had introduced him to a few months ago, was on his knees, mouth opened wide in pleasure as Hyunjin fucked him slowly from behind. Charles’ fat, hairy ass clenched around Hyunjin’s cock like a greedy fucking vice, the CEO’s meaty thighs trembling as Hyunjin’s pelvis cracked against them with the wet slap of skin on skin.

Hyunjin’s black hair clung to his neck in damp ropes, his lean torso glistening under the bedroom’s gold-hued lights as he gripped Charles’ hips tightly. The old man’s face mashed into the silk sheets, spit pooling under his slack mouth as Hyunjin’s thick, veined dick stretched him open—inch by relentless inch—with the kind of rough patience that had Charles mewling like a teenager losing his virginity. Charles’ pink, wrinkled hole fluttered around Hyunjin’s shaft, sucking him deeper as he ground his hips in slow circles, savoring the tight, quivering heat. Hyunjin’s smirk was a razor blade as he watched spit string from Charles’ lips to the rumpled linens.

When Evelyn’s gasp of shock cut through the room, Charles looked up in alarm, his distinguished face flushing with surprise and something close to shame.

Evelyn stood frozen, her eyes wide and lips parted in disbelief. The air was thick with sex and betrayal, and for a moment, all she could do was stare, watching as Hyunjin’s balls slapped against Charles’ taint. Then the anger came, hot and consuming, her voice cutting through the silence like a blade. 

"So this is what you meant by networking, Jinnie?" Her voice trembled, but her gaze lingered on the sweat dripping down Hyunjin’s abs, the way Charles’ hole glistened around his base.

Hyunjin glanced over his shoulder, finally noticing her, utterly unruffled with his cock still buried to the hilt in Charles’ quivering ass, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he met Evelyn’s wide-eyed stare. Evelyn’s designer blouse clung to her heaving tits, lips painted the same furious red as her cheeks. He’d always loved how her nostrils flared when she was pissed—like a thoroughbred about to bolt.

"Didn't know you were stopping by, Ev. Can you come back later?" He hadn’t stopped, his hips rolling in a lazy, obscene grind that made Charles whimper. Hyunjin ran his fingers through Charles’ thinning hair tenderly, before tugging his head back to expose his flushed throat. “Mr. Blackwood here’s been very generous with his… connections.” He leaned down to kiss Charles’ neck gently.

Charles shifted uncomfortably, his bravado crumbling under Evelyn's fierce gaze. He disentangled himself from Hyunjin, mumbling an apology as he rolled off the bed to gather his clothes. Evelyn's eyes burned with fury, but she turned on her heel and left, the bedroom door slamming behind her with a finality that shook the walls.

Hyunjin watched her go, then turned back to Charles, hoping to salvage the encounter. “You don’t have to run, daddy,” he cooed as he reached out to grasp Charles’ hand and brought it to his mouth.

But the interruption had soured the mood. Charles, already dressing, yanked his hand away, his fingers fumbling with buttons and cufflinks. "That was... unexpected," he said, his voice strained.

"Don't worry about it," Hyunjin replied, stretching lazily. "She'll get over it."

Charles managed a weak smile, but the earlier heat was gone, replaced by a nervous energy that made him seem smaller somehow. “This is for you,” he said as he placed a shiny black gift bag on the dresser. “Hopefully it’s the one you wanted. If not, call my assistant and he can replace it easily. I'll call you this weekend, doll," he promised. "Maybe we can continue then, uninterrupted. In private."

Hyunjin nodded, hiding his disappointment behind a casual shrug. "Sure thing, Chuck."

Charles leaned down and kissed Hyunjin on the lips, then left in a hurry, his footsteps echoing down the hall as he headed to the front door. Hyunjin watched Charles pull the door closed behind him, the gift bag a consolation prize that only half satisfied.

He knew Charles would be back; they always came back. But it was Evelyn he was thinking about, her anger and the threat it posed to his carefully balanced world.

Evelyn sat in her car, the engine off and her mind racing. She hadn't expected this, hadn't thought Hyunjin would be so brazen. But the sight of him with Charles had stoked a fire in her, a need to reassert control before it slipped entirely from her grasp. 

She saw Charles leave, his exit a cold reminder of her own humiliation, and something in her snapped. Without another thought, she marched back to the bungalow, her heels stabbing the ground with renewed purpose.

Hyunjin was sprawled on the bed staring at the ceiling, naked, the sheet barely covering his crotch as he palmed his dick lazily, when she burst back in. Her entrance was a storm of anger and elegance, the door swinging shut with a force that rattled the windows.

"You have some nerve," she spat, her voice trembling with barely contained rage.

He sat up slowly, unfazed by her fury. "You said you wanted me to make connections," he replied, his tone light but edged with defiance.

"Not like this," she shot back, her eyes flashing. "Do you have any idea what you're risking?"

Hyunjin stood, baring his full body as he crossed the room with the lazy grace of a cat. "I'm not risking anything," he said, his voice low and calm. He stopped at the dresser and peaked into the gift bag. Charles had bought him a top of line DSLR camera. It wasn’t actually for him; it was for Jeongin, but Charles didn’t need to know that. He removed the box from the bag and set it on the dresser. "You're the one who showed up unannounced."

Evelyn's composure cracked, her control slipping like sand through her fingers. "I thought I made myself clear, Hyunjin. You're mine, exclusively. You're playing a dangerous game, and it's going to blow up in your face."

He laughed, a sharp, mocking sound that cut through her anger like a knife. He looked up from the bag and locked eyes with her. "That's not the arrangement we have, darling. You're not my mother, Ev. And you certainly don't get to tell me who I can and can't fuck."

The words hung between them, raw and brutal. Evelyn's hands were trembling, her carefully constructed facade crumbling under the weight of his defiance. She had never lost control like this with one of her toys, never let anyone push her so far. But Hyunjin was different, and she hated him for it.

"If you think I won't walk away from this, you're wrong," she warned, her voice a deadly whisper. "There are lots of other men who would love to be in your position and happy to play by the rules. I'll pull my funding for your show, take back this bungalow, stop everything. Don't test me."

Hyunjin held her gaze, unflinching and unrepentant. "You won't," he said simply, the certainty in his voice infuriating and unshakeable as he walked to Evelyn. "You like me too much,” he said teasingly as he grabbed her hand and intertwined his fingers in hers. “I fuck you too well. I can fuck you now if you want. That’s why you came here, right?" He pulled her body close to his and hiked up her skirt, his fingers rubbing along the crotch of her silk panties. He smirked when he found the fabric soaked and gave her a look that loudly said, I knew it.

Evelyn turned away, disgusted, her heels clicking sharply against the floor as she pulled her hand away from his, and shoved his other hand away from between her legs before storming out. The front door slammed behind her, the sound echoing in the sudden silence. Hyunjin stood alone, the camera box gleaming on the dresser, the uncertainty of his future looming large.

But he was sure she would calm down, sure she would come back.

They always came back.

Hyunjin flung open the door to Jeongin's room, the camera clutched in one hand and frustration clinging to him like a second skin. He found Jeongin hunched over his laptop, headphones perched on his head, oblivious to the storm that had brewed in the next room.

Hyunjin dropped onto the bed with dramatic flair, the springs protesting under his weight, and watched as Jeongin pushed the headphones off, curiosity and concern mingling in his gaze.

Jeongin’s eyes moved across Hyunjin’s body, taking in his bare chest and chiseled abs, as well as the way the black sweatpants hugged his thighs.

"What happened? Your daddy couldn’t keep it up?" Jeongin asked, his voice laced with the dry wit that always made Hyunjin smile.

Hyunjin tossed the box onto the bed between them, the plastic-covered package catching the light. "Evelyn," he said, the single word heavy with meaning. "She caught me fucking Charles and lost her mind."

Jeongin's eyes widened, a mix of amusement and disbelief. "I thought she liked to share."

"Apparently not when it's with her friends," Hyunjin replied, propping himself up on one elbow. "She threatened to pull my show and take back the bungalow. Can you believe that?"

Jeongin's expression shifted, a flicker of something serious passing over his features. If Evelyn took back the bungalow, they would be out on the streets. "You should take her seriously, Jinnie. If she follows through, we're fucking screwed."

Hyunjin waved a dismissive hand, confidence oozing from every pore. "She won't. She just needs to cool off."

Jeongin shook his head, skepticism etched into every line of his face. "I don't know, Hyunjin. She's not like the others. She could actually do it."

Hyunjin reached for the camera box, turning it over in his hands with practiced ease. "I'm not worried," he said, flashing a grin that was equal parts charm and defiance. "I'll make sure it doesn't come to that."

The certainty in his voice did little to ease Jeongin's concern, but he let it drop, his attention shifting to the gift Hyunjin had brought. "Is that for me?" he asked, his tone a careful mix of gratitude and hesitation.

Hyunjin nodded, tossing the box to him. "Chuck left it behind when he ran out with his tail between his legs. I requested it for you. I figured you'd put it to better use."

Jeongin opened the box and removed the camera. He studied it, his fingers tracing its contours with something close to reverence. "You didn't have to, you know. You don't need to gift me things. You don’t need to buy me."

"Who says I'm trying to buy you?" Hyunjin teased, watching Jeongin's reaction with keen interest. "Maybe I just like giving you gifts."

Jeongin's lips curved into a reluctant smile, but there was a shadow behind it, a lingering doubt that Hyunjin knew all too well. "I'd still be your friend even if you never gave me anything," Jeongin said, his voice softer now, more vulnerable.

Hyunjin moved closer, the bed shifting under his weight, the distance between them shrinking to nothing. "What if I want more than that?" he asked, his eyes locking onto Jeongin's with an intensity that left no room for misunderstanding.

Jeongin hesitated, the words catching in his throat. "You don't mean that," he said finally, though the conviction in his voice wavered. “You never want more than that.”

Hyunjin leaned in, his breath warm against Jeongin's skin. "I do," he insisted, the sincerity in his tone cutting through Jeongin's defenses. "I've always liked you more than a friend, Innie. You know that."

Their fingers brushed, and they felt a spark that jolted them. Hyunjin's lips found Jeongin's, the kiss a mix of tenderness and urgency that left them both breathless. 

Jeongin melted against him, all hesitation dissolving in the heat of the moment. He hated when Hyunjin did this, when he played with him. But he could never fucking resist, despite how hard he tried.

"You know what I want, don't you?" Hyunjin whispered, his hands sliding under Jeongin's shirt, fingers tracing the smooth planes of his chest.

Jeongin nodded, his glasses askew and his heart pounding. "You're just using me to finish what you started with Charles," he said, the accusation half-hearted and tinged with desire.

"Is that a problem?" Hyunjin asked, his voice a seductive purr as he pushed Jeongin back onto the bed, pinning him beneath his weight. He kissed the tip of Jeongin’s nose before carefully removing his friend’s glasses and setting them on the bedside table.

Jeongin shook his head, the last of his resistance crumbling. "No," he admitted, his voice barely more than a breath. "Not for me." 

Jeongin had been in love with Hyunjin since the first day they met in art school, and had only fallen deeper once they became friends. The relationship they had outside of their friendship was one borne of need and desire. Hyunjin had indulged Jeongin when Jeongin first confessed his feelings, kissing him and fucking him passionately. But the next morning, Hyunjin made it clear that although he adored Jeongin as a friend, he had no interest in being tied to a relationship. So they stayed friends and fucked occasionally.

Hyunjin grinned, a wicked, knowing smile that spoke volumes. "Good," he said, claiming Jeongin's mouth again with a hunger that bordered on desperation.

Their clothes came off in a tangle of limbs and fabric, Hyunjin's urgency matched by Jeongin's eager compliance. Hyunjin kissed his way down Jeongin's body, leaving a trail of heat in his wake, his lips and tongue exploring every inch of skin. He latched onto one of Jeongin’s nipples with a wet, sloppy suck, teeth scraping the tender bud. Jeongin gasped and writhed beneath him, the sounds spilling from his lips raw and unguarded.

Hyunjin's hands were everywhere, stroking and teasing, coaxing Jeongin to the brink and then pulling back, savoring the power he held over him. "You like this, don't you?" Hyunjin taunted, his voice a low, sultry drawl as he wrapped a hand around Jeongin's cock, pumping it with slow, deliberate strokes. His other hand found its way to Jeongin’s ass. After giving it a firm squeeze, he inserted a finger in Jeongin’s anus, moving it slowly in and out.

Jeongin moaned, his body arching into Hyunjin's touch. "Yes," he confessed, the word a plea and a surrender all at once. "Fuck, Hyunjin, yes." Hyunjin inserted a second finger, repeating the motions before he slipped in a third.

Hyunjin took his time, reveling in the way Jeongin fell apart under his touch, the way he responded to every caress and command. He wanted to prolong it, to drag it out until Jeongin was begging for release, but his own need was a relentless ache that demanded satisfaction.

He reached for the nightstand, retrieving a small bottle of lube, the motions practiced and efficient. Jeongin watched with hooded eyes, his breath coming in short, uneven bursts as Hyunjin squeezed the lube onto his own cock, slicking it with quick, eager strokes.

Hyunjin positioned himself between Jeongin's legs, hoisting them on his broad shoulders, the angle deep and intimate. "Tell me you want it," Hyunjin commanded, his voice a rough whisper as he teased Jeongin's entrance with the tip of his cock.

"I want it," Jeongin gasped, his fingers digging into Hyunjin's arms, his need laid bare and unashamed. "I want you, Jinnie, please."

The first thrust was vicious—no mercy, no slow burn—the sensation overwhelming and electric, a perfect, dizzying slide that left them both breathless. Jeongin cried out, the sound ripped from his throat as Hyunjin fucked him with deep, measured thrusts, each one more forceful than the last.

The room filled with the sounds of skin against skin, of ragged breaths and muffled curses, the air heavy with the scent of sex and sweat. Hyunjin lost himself in it, the intensity of the moment consuming him, the pleasure building to a fever pitch that threatened to unravel him completely.

Jeongin's body trembled beneath him, every muscle taut and quivering, his moans a symphony of need and ecstasy. "I'm close," Jeongin warned, his voice breaking on the words, his hand moving to his own cock to match the rhythm of Hyunjin's thrusts.

"Do it," Hyunjin urged, his voice tight with restraint, the effort of holding back written in every line of his body. "Cum for me, Innie."

Jeongin's release hit him like a tidal wave, his body convulsing with the force of it, his hot and slick ejaculate spurting between them and landing on his stomach. The sight and feel of it pushed Hyunjin over the edge, his own climax crashing through him in a white-hot rush that left him reeling.

They collapsed together, limbs tangled and breaths mingling, the aftermath a haze of warmth and satisfaction. Hyunjin pulled out carefully and settled beside Jeongin, their skin sticking where it touched, a comfortable intimacy that spoke of long familiarity.

Jeongin turned to him, eyes bright and lips curving into a soft, contented smile. "You got what you wanted," he said, the words teasing but without malice. “Like always.” Hyunjin was one of those people who always failed upwards. He lived a charmed life where most of his wants and needs were met.

Hyunjin kissed him again, slow and languid, the urgency of before replaced by something deeper, more enduring. "Not yet," he murmured against Jeongin's mouth, his tone playful and possessive. "I’ll want it again."

Jeongin laughed, the sound low and rich, a promise and a challenge all at once. They had all night, and Hyunjin intended to use every second.

****

Hyunjin stood in the middle of his studio, his eyes flickering between the recently finished pieces that leaned against the walls. He held his phone with a tight grip, the kind that betrayed the tension simmering just beneath his skin. The voice on the other end was blunt, leaving no room for misinterpretation: there was a hold placed on the check for the caterer.

Chef Chris' words were clear and unrelenting, a splash of cold water against Hyunjin's senses. "You need to handle this, Jinnie. We can't proceed without the deposit, and the event's just around the corner."

Hyunjin felt his heart skip, then thud heavily in his chest. "Are you sure? It must be a mistake." But even as he spoke, he knew the truth. Evelyn was playing her games. She had warned him what would happen, but he hadn’t taken her seriously.

Chris' tone was impatient but kind, the clatter of a busy kitchen echoing behind him. "I knaur you're good for it,” he said in his Australian accent, “but the manager won’t let me schedule staff and allocate resources for the event without the deposit secured. Just talk to Evelyn,” his voice knowing. “She’ll probably sort it out for you. But if this isn't resolved soon, we'll have to pull out."

Panic bubbled up, hot and unwelcome. Hyunjin imagined the gala night, the empty space where the catering should be, the whispers about his reliability. He tried to steady his voice, but a tremor slipped through. "I'll fix it. Don't worry."

The call ended with Chris' firm reminder: "Two days, Hyunjin. No more."

Hyunjin stared at his phone, the screen dark and accusing. He was teetering on the edge of something disastrous. Evelyn's support was as unpredictable as it was essential, and the possibility that she might be pulling away sent a cold wave of fear through him. His reputation, the art show, everything he'd built over the past few months—teetering because of a cancelled check.

He ran a hand through his hair, pulling at the strands in frustration. He had to act fast, had to stay in control, even as it slipped through his fingers like sand. He couldn't afford to lose this chance, not when everything was at stake.

He opened his email to find the invoice for Saffron and Thyme. The deposit was $1800. He could probably cover about a quarter of it easily from his own account, but the remaining $1300, he’d need help with. It wasn’t a large amount, so he was sure he could find someone else to cover it.

****

The bar was buzzing with energy, a low hum of conversations and clinking cups. Hyunjin sat across from DJ J. One, his fingers tapping an anxious rhythm on the table. J. One was cool and relaxed, but his words were a punch to Hyunjin's gut: the payment hadn't gone through.

Hyunjin forced a smile, trying to match the DJ's easy going demeanor. "It's just a glitch," he said, though the words tasted bitter on his tongue. "I'll sort it out right away."

J. One shrugged, his eyes hidden behind dark shades that reflected Hyunjin's tense expression. "I get it, man. These things happen. But I gotta protect my business too, you know?"

Hyunjin felt the familiar heat of panic rising. It coiled in his chest, spreading like wildfire. He needed this event to be perfect, and Evelyn's games were threatening to burn it all down. 

"Three days," J. One said, leaning back in his chair with the kind of confidence Hyunjin envied. "After that, I have to move to one of the events on my waitlist, then I’ll be booked solid for the next two months."

The deadline loomed, a ticking clock that echoed in Hyunjin's mind. He swallowed hard, nodding as if he still had control, as if he wasn't about to freak the fuck out. "You'll have it J.," he promised, the words more desperate than convincing. “Just don’t do anything drastic.”

They exchanged a few more pleasantries, J. One's casual tone in stark contrast to the storm brewing inside Hyunjin. Every second felt like an eternity, a reminder of how precarious his situation had become.

As Hyunjin left the bar, the noise of the crowd faded, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He now had $3000 he needed to find, and that was assuming Evelyn hadn’t cancelled the payments to other things, like the gallery space. The walls were closing in, the pressure mounting with every heartbeat. He had to fix this, had to find a way to salvage the art show and his reputation. But with Evelyn pulling the strings, even his confidence felt like it was slipping away.

****

The studio felt smaller than usual, the walls closing in as Hyunjin paced back and forth. His mind was a whirlwind, thoughts crashing into each other with a force that left him breathless. He couldn't believe how quickly everything was unraveling.

The canvases seemed to mock him, reminders of the art show that was slipping through his fingers. He couldn't escape the reality that Evelyn was pulling the strings, her influence a double-edged sword that threatened to cut him down just as easily as it had lifted him up.

Deadlines loomed, each tick of the clock a taunt. He imagined the show without the DJ, without the catering, the whispers about his failure spreading like wildfire. It was a nightmare, one he couldn't wake up from.

Pride warred with desperation, a bitter struggle that left him feeling raw and exposed. He wanted to assert his freedoms while also being kept, so as to not be fully at the mercy of someone else's whims. That’s what he had negotiated with Evelyn. But it seemed those two things were at odds with one another, and only one would win out.

He stopped pacing, the sudden stillness a stark contrast to the chaos in his mind. He knew he needed Jeongin, needed the support and perspective only his best friend could offer. It was a hard pill to swallow, but the only way to keep from choking on his own pride.

Hyunjin took a deep breath, determination settling over him like a second skin. The art show, his reputation, everything he cared about depended on fixing this.

Hyunjin found Jeongin in the kitchen, the soft glow of the overhead light casting long shadows on the walls. A simple dinner was spread out on the table, and Jeongin was already digging in, dressed in a thrifted sweater that hung off one shoulder. He looked up, a crooked smile on his lips, as Hyunjin sat down with a sigh.

"You're home early," Jeongin said, pushing a plate toward him. "Finally get tired of pretending to be a tortured artist?"

Hyunjin managed a weak laugh, though his mind was still a storm of worry. "Something like that," he said, picking at his food. The kitchen felt warm and familiar, a safe haven from the chaos outside. He knew he could lay it all out here, no pretense, no need for masks.

Jeongin raised an eyebrow, sensing the tension that clung to Hyunjin like a second skin. "What's up? You look like someone kicked your favorite puppy."

Hyunjin took a deep breath, the words tumbling out in a rush. "The checks for the catering and the DJ's payment didn't go through. Evelyn's pulling her support, and the show's going to be a disaster if I don't fix it."

Jeongin listened, his expression a mix of concern and amusement. "Wow," he said, leaning back in his chair. "You really know how to fuck things up, don't you?"

Despite himself, Hyunjin chuckled. It was a hollow sound, but it felt good to laugh, even if just for a moment. "I'm serious, Innie. This is bad."

Jeongin nodded, his eyes sharp behind his glasses. "I know. But we'll figure it out. We always do."

The certainty in Jeongin's voice was like a balm, soothing the raw edges of Hyunjin's panic.

“Can you use your savings?” Jeongin asked.

“What savings?”

Jeongin set his fork down and stared at Hyunjin. “Jin, you can’t be serious. You’ve been getting a $5000 stipend for the past 7 months, plus the $10k check. Where’d it all go?”

Hyunjin sighed. “What’s the point of having money if you don’t spend it?”

Jeongin chuckled. “You shouldn’t be spending all of it, dummy. Exactly for this reason.” He thought for a second. “I can probably kick in a thousand, but that’s it. I have to save to have my pieces framed next month.”

Hyunjin felt a wave of gratitude, mixed with the familiar guilt of dragging Jeongin into his mess. "Thanks. It doesn’t help me cover everything, but it helps.” He forked a piece of grilled chicken into his mouth and chewed slowly. “I can't lose this show, Jeongin. Not after everything."

Jeongin smirked, the kind that said he was about to say something that would either make Hyunjin laugh or throw something at him. "Well, you could always sell your body. Oh wait, you're already doing that."

Hyunjin threw a piece of bread at him, a smile tugging at his lips. "You're an asshole."

Jeongin caught the bread, taking a bite. "But seriously, have you tried talking to Charles? He's been throwing money at you like it's going out of style."

Hyunjin considered it, the idea both tempting and infuriating. He hated feeling like he had to beg. But Jeongin was right; Charles was an option, a way out. He was already giving Hyunjin gifts and cash every week. It wouldn’t be a big deal for Charles to cover the additional $1500-1600 he would need. That was a drop in the bucket. Charles could cover the entire thing easily.

"I might have to," Hyunjin admitted, the words tasting bitter. "I wanted to do this without any extra strings, you know?"

Jeongin reached across the table, his hand warm on Hyunjin's arm. "You'll get there, Jinnie. You're too stubborn not to."

Their eyes met, and for a moment, the weight on Hyunjin's shoulders felt a little lighter. Jeongin's faith in him was unwavering, a lifeline he desperately needed. He squeezed Jeongin's hand, feeling a renewed sense of determination.

"Thanks," Hyunjin said, his voice softer now, less burdened. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Jeongin shrugged, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Crash and burn, probably."

Hyunjin laughed, a real, genuine sound this time. The fear and frustration were still there, but they felt more manageable now, less like a noose around his neck. He had a plan, a way forward, and he wasn't alone in this fight.

As they cleared the table, Hyunjin felt the beginnings of hope stirring inside him. He would face the challenge, would find a way to make this work. With Jeongin by his side, anything seemed possible.

****

Hyunjin stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the collar of his shirt with a practiced hand. He knew how to play this game, knew exactly what Charles wanted and how to give it to him. The key was in the details: a hint of skin, a teasing smile, the promise of something just out of reach.

He slipped into a designer jacket, one of many gifts from men like Charles who wanted to dress him up like a doll and parade him around like a prize. It was a role Hyunjin knew well, one he excelled at. He took a deep breath, his reflection staring back with a mix of confidence and calculation.

This was a gamble, but one he was willing to take. He needed Charles' support, needed the funds to keep the art show from crashing down around him. He hated how easily he fell back into this routine, but desperation left little room for pride.

The meeting was set in a lavish hotel suite, the kind of place where Charles conducted his business and his affairs. Hyunjin arrived with purpose, his every step a calculated part of the performance. He knew the effect he had on Charles, knew how to use it to his advantage.

Charles was already there sitting on the couch, a glass of scotch in hand, his eyes lighting up as Hyunjin entered. "Jinnie," he said, a mix of surprise and pleasure in his voice. "I didn't expect to see you so soon."

Hyunjin gave him a slow smile, one that promised everything and nothing all at once. "I was thinking about you. I thought we could have a little fun before dinner," he said, letting his jacket slip off his shoulders, revealing the fitted shirt underneath.

Charles' gaze was hungry, his composure slipping as he drank in the sight of Hyunjin. It was almost too easy, the way the older man fell apart at the seams with just a look, a touch, a whispered word. "I like the sound of that," Charles said, setting his glass down with a shaky hand.

Hyunjin moved in close, closing the distance between them and capturing Charles’ lips in a deep kiss. He felt the man melt against him like wax, every touch a calculated step in a dance they both knew so well. Hyunjin kissed down Charles’ body, trailing his lips over his chin, his neck, the hollow of his throat. He felt Charles’ pulse quicken beneath his mouth, a steady beat that thrummed with anticipation and desire. He reached Charles’ collarbone, biting it gently as he unbuttoned the older man’s shirt with torturous slowness. Hyunjin knew how to work Charles, how to play him like an instrument finely tuned to his touch. The heat between them was electric, a charge that built with every passing second.

The shirt fell open, and Hyunjin let his mouth wander over Charles’ chest, each kiss a tantalizing promise. Charles groaned, his composure slipping as he gave in to Hyunjin’s seduction. Hyunjin’s kisses moved lower, down Charles’ stomach, until he was on his knees, nuzzling his nose against the growing bulge in Charles’ pants. He made quick work of the belt, unbuckling it with deft fingers before unbuttoning the slacks and pulling them down.

He looked up at Charles with a warm smile, one that was both innocent and wicked. Hyunjin shoved his hand into Charles’ underwear, pulling the waistband down and freeing Charles’ eager dick. A second later, the tip was being teased by Hyunjin’s tongue before the full shaft was engulfed by his mouth. Charles' chest heaved as he watched Hyunjin lower his mouth onto his throbbing erection.

Hyunjin sucked on Charles’ cock, taking him in deep, the rhythmic sound filling the air. Charles’ moans filled the room as Hyunjin bobbed up and down on his shaft, a powerful sound that fueled Hyunjin’s movements. The gentle graze of Hyunjin's tongue along the underside of Charles’ shaft heightened his arousal to unbearable levels. His hands found their way into Hyunjin’s soft, silky hair, tightening his fingers around the strands with a possessive grip.

Hyunjin knew how to keep Charles on the edge, how to make sure he came back for more. Every sight and sound was calculated, every touch a precise move in a game they both played so well.

As he tightened his plush lips around Charles’ cock, he used one hand to pump and twist around his dick, and the other to caress the man’s balls in his palm, massaging gently.

Suddenly, Hyunjin pulled back, eyes shining with mischief as he gazed up at Charles expectantly. Before Charles could respond, he felt a warm mouth close around the head of his dick once again — but this time it was different; there was an urgent demand in each lustful suckle that left Charles panting for air. Hyunjin's tongue swirled around the sensitive tip, tracing every vein and ridge until Charles thought he might lose control altogether. It was an exquisite torture that only this boy could provide. His hips bucked involuntarily against the sensation, seeking more from this tantalizing treat. Charles’ fingertips dug into Hyunjin's scalp, pulling gently as he held onto whatever semblance of sanity remained within reach.

Hyunjin worked him, feeling Charles’ stiffen before he exploded in Hyunjin’s mouth. Hyunjin eagerly swallowed every last drop. He smirked against Charles’ skin before he pulled away and licked his lips slowly, leaving Charles gasping for air.

“Tell me,” Hyunjin said, his voice a husky whisper as he rested his chin on Charles’ thigh. “Why do you always taste so good, daddy?”

Charles tried to collect himself, but failed. “I love when you call me that, doll,” he managed to choke out, his eyes glazed over with lust.

“I can call you that all the time,” Hyunjin purred as he stood and dropped his own pants to the floor, exposing his hard cock to Charles before climbing onto the couch beside him. He noted how Charles' eyes were glued to his dick.

He straddled Charles, letting his bare ass rub against the other man’s cock. Hyunjin slid up and down it slowly, enjoying the sensation he was getting from the friction. Charles’ ragged sighs indicated that he was loving it too.

Charles grabbed Hyunjin’s hips with an insistent grip, pulling him closer as he guided Hyunjin’s grinding at an increasingly faster pace. He was already hard again, and Hyunjin could feel Charles’ cock pressing insistently against his skin. Hyunjin let himself be led, his movements matching Charles’ growing urgency. He watched Charles’ face, the older man completely lost to the sensation, until Hyunjin brought his lips down for a deep kiss that left both of them breathless.

Hyunjin pulled away. "Turn over," he said, instructing Charles to roll on to his stomach. As Charles settled into the new position on the couch, Hyunjin spit into his palm, and used the saliva to lubricate his dick. Then he positioned himself behind Charles, and eased his cock into the whimpering man, thrusting slowly, just the way he knew Charles liked it.

Hyunjin loved the way Charles fell apart, the way each thrust of his hips turned the older man into a quivering mess. He kept his pace steady and deliberate, savoring the sounds of Charles’ muffled groans as he buried his face in a throw pillow. Hyunjin pulled out almost completely then pushed back in, hitting that perfect spot that made Charles shake and buck against him.

He picked up speed, Charles’ ass swallowing him deeper and deeper with each thrust. The sensation was maddening, and Hyunjin could feel an intense pressure building up inside of him. He reached around to stroke Charles’ stiff cock in time with his thrusts.

Charles was reduced to a series of ragged moans, each one more desperate than the last. This was what Hyunjin had been waiting for.

He leaned down, draping his body over Charles’ back. "I need a favor, daddy," he whispered, his voice soft and intimate, like a secret meant only for Charles' ears.

Charles swallowed hard, the flush of desire painting his cheeks. "Anything," he said, the word tumbling out in between moans before he could stop it.

Hyunjin pressed closer, feeling the heat of Charles's body, the rapid thud of his heart as he increased the force of his thrusts. "My show," Hyunjin said, letting his lips brush against Charles's ear. "I need your help."

The tension was electric, the chemistry between them a living, breathing thing. Hyunjin could feel Charles's resolve crumbling, could see the conflict in his eyes as he wrestled with his desires and the risks they carried.

“How much,” Charles’ finally managed.

“Only $3k, daddy,” Hyunjin said, followed by a soft kiss to the man’s neck.

Charles opened his mouth to say something, but only a groan escaped. Hyunjin smiled.

Charles gripped the armrest tightly as he fought to contain his cries of pleasure mixed with pain. The sensation was unlike anything else; it consumed him completely – body and soul. His skin tingled from the contact as Hyunjin's hips snapped against him in rhythm, driving in deeper than ever before.

Hyunjin felt himself getting closer and closer to release, pushing into Charles harder as he neared the edge. When he finally came, it was with an animalistic grunt that filled the room.

His cum shot deep into Charles while he jerked off the other man’s cock furiously, working it until Charles came a second time in thick spurts over Hyunjin’s hand.

They collapsed together on the couch, both panting heavily as they recovered. Charles turned to look at Hyunjin, his expression one of blissful satisfaction.

“Fuck,” he said breathlessly, still trying to catch his breath.

Hyunjin chuckled softly and kissed him on the lips before standing up and disappearing into the bathroom. When he returned with a warm washcloth, he found Charles sprawled out across the couch with a lazy smile on his face.

“You’re amazing,” Charles murmured contentedly as Hyunjin wiped him clean with gentle strokes of the cloth.

Hyunjin grinned down at him. “Right back at you,” he said before dropping the dirty washcloth to the floor and curling up beside him again.

They lay there quietly for a moment, tangled together in post-coital bliss.

But eventually, Hyunjin broke the silence. “So…” he started hesitantly. “The show?”

“You know, Catherine won’t like this,” Charles said, his voice thick with longing and fear.

Hyunjin pulled back slightly, just enough to leave Charles wanting more. "She doesn't have to know," he said, the words a gentle push, a nudge over the edge.

Charles hesitated, the briefest flicker of doubt crossing his features before Hyunjin silenced it with a kiss, deep and consuming. When they finally broke apart, Charles was breathless, the last of his resistance gone.

"I'll take care of it, doll," Charles said, the promise heavy with the weight of his need.

Hyunjin smiled, a slow, satisfied curve of his lips. “Thank you, daddy. You always know how to make me happy.” He felt a rush of victory, of triumph, but it was tempered with the knowledge of how precarious this all was. He had what he needed, but he knew better than to trust it completely.

****

Charles knew he was fucked the moment his wife stormed into his office, her eyes blazing with accusation as she held her phone up with an email from their money manager. The veneer of control he'd clung to slipped through his fingers like sand, leaving him exposed and vulnerable. Catherine's voice was sharp and unyielding, cutting through his defenses with ruthless precision.

"How much did you promise this time?" she demanded, the question more of an accusation than a query. Her presence was formidable, a force that left Charles scrambling for footing.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught in his throat. He was a man used to having his way, but Catherine was one of the few who could bring him to heel with a look, a word, a reminder of the power she held over him.

"You know I don’t mind your dalliances, sweetheart. They were part of the agreements we made before getting married all those years ago. But you can't keep throwing money at your toys," she continued, her tone leaving no room for argument. "Especially not this one. Evelyn's already claimed him and you know how petty she can get."

The mention of Evelyn sent a chill through Charles, a reminder of how precarious his situation was. Evelyn's influence was vast, her ability to make or break him all too real.

“Did you know she called me to tell me how she walked in on the two of you, as if I didn’t already know. But you have to be careful with her. She’s the type to gossip and flaunt accusations. And we don’t want that. Unless… you’re finally ready to come out to everyone. That’s perfectly okay too,” she said gently.

The thought terrified Charles. Although society was different now from when he was a young man, many in his world and business, and certainly in his own family, looked down on queerness. He’d been very lucky that Catherine, who his family had pushed him to marry (just as hers had encouraged the same) due to family connections, was happy to enter into a lavender marriage. Both of them got to do their own thing, the only requirement being discretion. Charles had been reckless, caught up in the thrill of Hyunjin, and now he was paying the price.

Charles shook his head slowly. He did not want to come out, but he was happy to know Catherine would support him if he did.

Catherine leaned in, her eyes narrowing. "Then pull out now. Don’t give him any more money. And if you want to continue fucking him, both of you will need to be a bit more discrete…"

The threat hung heavy in the air, a promise of consequences he couldn't afford to ignore. Charles felt the familiar pull of his desires, the way they clashed violently with the reality of his life. During his 62 years of life, he had always been a man torn between what he wanted and what he could have, and it left him weak and cornered.

He knew what he had to do, even as it twisted like a knife in his gut. He reached for his phone, the act of dialing Hyunjin's number a painful admission of defeat.

Hyunjin answered on the second ring, his voice bright with the expectation of good news. "Charles," he said, the name like a caress.

Charles's heart sank, the weight of his cowardice settling over him like a shroud. "I can't do it, Jinnie," he said, the words thick with regret. "Catherine found out. And Evelyn's putting the screws to me. I can't risk it."

There was a moment of silence on the line, a stillness that felt like the calm before a storm. When Hyunjin finally spoke, his voice was colder, more distant. "So that's it? You cave, and I'm just supposed to deal with the fallout?"

Charles closed his eyes, the sting of Hyunjin's words cutting deep. "I'm sorry, doll," he said, knowing it wasn't enough, knowing it never would be.

Hyunjin hung up without another word, leaving Charles alone with his failure and the echo of a life he couldn't quite grasp.

On the other end of the line, Hyunjin stared at his phone, his mind a tangle of anger and desperation. Charles had been his ace, his way out of this mess, and now it was gone, snatched away by the very forces he thought he could manipulate.

Evelyn's hand in this was undeniable, her power play both infuriating and grudgingly impressive. She was a master of the game, and Hyunjin hated how thoroughly she'd outmaneuvered him.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to think, to plan, to find a way through this. The art show was slipping further from his grasp, but he wasn't ready to give up, not when everything was at stake.

There was only one option left, one path that left a bitter taste in his mouth but promised the salvation he needed. He had to go back to Evelyn, had to swallow his pride and face the woman who held all the cards.

Hyunjin squared his shoulders, determination mingling with desperation. He would do what he had to.

****

Hyunjin stared at his reflection, the mirror a silent judge of the desperation etched across his features. His pride felt like a distant memory, swallowed whole by the gnawing need to salvage what he could from the wreckage of his plans. He knew what he had to do, even if it left him raw and exposed.

The thought of going back to Evelyn was both a lifeline and a humiliation. He'd sworn he wouldn't crawl back, wouldn't play the part of the restrained kept boy begging for scraps. But the art show was slipping away, and with it, everything he'd worked for. Desperation left little room for ego.

He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture both nervous and resolute. He had to approach this carefully, had to play his cards with the precision of a gambler betting it all on a single hand. Evelyn was unpredictable, petty and he couldn't afford to piss her off more.

Dressing for the encounter was an exercise in strategy. He chose a shirt that clung to his frame, a pair of pants that left just enough to the imagination. It was a balance of elegance and seduction, a look that said he was willing to play the game but on his own terms.

Hyunjin felt the weight of the decision settle over him, heavy and inescapable. He needed Evelyn's money, needed it more than he cared to admit. The thought of apologizing, of using his charm to win her back, was both infuriating and necessary.

He took a deep breath, the resolve in his chest mingling with a fear he couldn't quite shake. This was his last chance, his final play before the whole thing came crashing down. He couldn't afford to fail.

The elevator ride to Evelyn's penthouse was an eternity, each second a reminder of what was at stake. The doors opened with a soft chime, revealing the luxurious space beyond. It was a world of opulence and power, a stark contrast to the vulnerability that gnawed at him.

Hyunjin stepped inside, his heart a drumbeat of determination and dread. He was ready to face Evelyn, ready to swallow his pride and do what he must. The art show, his reputation, everything hung in the balance. He wouldn't leave without a fight.

Evelyn was there, a vision of elegance and control, her presence filling the room with a confidence that left him breathless. He hesitated for the briefest moment, the enormity of what he was about to do settling over him like a shroud.

"Evelyn," he said, his voice a mix of determination and vulnerability, a careful balance of defiance and submission.

She turned to him, a slow, deliberate movement that spoke volumes. Her eyes were sharp, taking in every detail with the precision of a predator assessing its prey. "Jinnie," she replied, the name a playful taunt. "I was beginning to think you'd forgotten me."

Hyunjin swallowed, the weight of her gaze heavy on his shoulders. "How could I when I need your help," he said, cutting to the chase. There was no room for pretense, not when everything hung in the balance.

Evelyn smiled, a languid curve of her lips that promised nothing and everything all at once. "Oh, I know," she said, her tone as smooth as silk. "Charles was very apologetic when he told me you were in a bind."

The words were a calculated blow, and Hyunjin felt the sting of them like a physical thing. He took a step closer, letting his desperation show just enough to be enticing. "I can make it up to you," he said, his voice low and filled with promise.

She considered him, her expression unreadable, her composure unshaken. "And how would you do that, Jinnie?" she asked, the question both a challenge and an invitation.

Hyunjin's heart raced, the tension between them a living, breathing thing. He was used to being the one in control, but with Evelyn, it was always a dangerous dance. He could feel her power, the way it wrapped around him like a noose, and he was both terrified and exhilarated by it.

He reached for her, his fingers brushing against her arm, a tentative gesture that spoke of submission and need. "Let me show you," he said, the words a plea and a demand.

Evelyn's eyes sparkled with amusement, a cat toying with the mouse that dared enter its domain. "I don't know," she said, pulling back slightly, leaving him grasping at air. "Maybe I should let you sweat a little longer."

The possibility of rejection hung heavy in the air, a reminder of how precarious his situation was. Hyunjin felt his pride twist, felt the familiar burn of humiliation, but he couldn't afford to walk away, not now, not when he was so close.

He stepped closer again, his movements a study in vulnerability and allure. "Please, Evelyn," he said, the words tasting bitter and sweet all at once.

She let him come to her this time, let him close the distance until he was within reach. Her touch was sudden, a firm grip on his chin that forced him to meet her gaze. "You think you're clever," she said, her voice low and filled with the kind of confidence that left no room for doubt. "But you forget who is really in charge here."

Hyunjin's breath caught, the air between them charged with a tension that bordered on electric. He was teetering on the edge, the thrill of it a heady mix of fear and desire.

Then she kissed him, and everything else fell away.

It was rough, consuming, a claiming of territory that left him breathless and wanting. Evelyn's hands were everywhere, pulling him closer, tearing at the careful facade he'd built around himself. She pushed him back against the wall, her movements decisive and unyielding, leaving no doubt as to who was in control.

Hyunjin surrendered, his body responding with a need that eclipsed his pride, his desperation, everything but the moment and the woman who held him in her thrall. Buttons popped as she tore his shirt open. Her painted nails—blood red and filed to a sharp point—dug into the meat of his shoulders, her lips trailing fire across his neck, his chest, marking him as hers in ways that went beyond the physical.

She was relentless, a force of nature that swept over him with the power of a storm. Hyunjin had been with her before, knew the intensity of her desires, but this was different. This was raw, unfiltered, a reminder that she held all the cards and wasn't afraid to play them. And it made his cock throb like a goddamn heart trapped in his zipper.

“Don’t move,” she said as she stepped back, untying the belt of her wrap dress and letting it flutter to the ground. Her tits strained against the sheer black lace of her bra, nipples like bullet points begging to be bitten.

He gasped as she pushed him to the floor, her body a commanding presence above him, around him, everywhere at once. The carpet was soft beneath him, a cruel contrast to the roughness of her touch, the fierceness of her demands. She pinned him to the carpet as she straddled his hips, her soaked cunt already grinding against the tented fabric of his slacks. “You’re mine,” she snarled.

Evelyn’s teeth grazed Hyunjin’s collarbone hard enough to bruise. Her hand fisted his hair, yanking his head back to expose his throat, and he groaned—half pain, half prayer—as her free hand clawed at his belt. The leather slithered loose, and then her fingers were inside his boxers, cold and cruel, wrapping around his cock like a vise. She pulled it out.

“Look at this pathetic fucking dick,” she sneered, jerking him roughly, her thumb smearing pre-cum over his swollen tip. “Dripping for me already? You really are a desperate little slut, aren’t you?”

Hyunjin’s hips bucked, but she slammed her knee between his legs, pinning him flat. “Uh-uh,” she purred, leaning close enough that her breath fogged his lips. “You don’t get to move until I say so.” Her tongue flicked his earlobe, then her teeth closed around it, biting down until he whimpered. “Good boys who want to be taken care of stay still.”

He obeyed, trembling, as she stood and peeled off her panties, the fabric damp and clinging to her thighs. She draped them over his face, and he inhaled sharply, drunk on the tang of her sweat, the heady reek of her pussy soaked into the cotton.

“Breathe it in,” she ordered, her voice dropping to a growl as she positioned herself above him, her cunt hovering inches from his mouth. “Lick. Now.”

Hyunjin’s tongue lashed out, greedy and sloppy, lapping at her swollen lips, tracing the fat, throbbing clit that jutted from her folds like a fucking command button. She tasted like salt and sin, and he moaned into her, his nose buried in her trimmed curls as she ground against his face, suffocating him in her heat.

“Harder,” she demanded, her thighs clamping around his skull as she fucked his mouth, her juices slicking his chin, dripping down his neck. “You think this is for you? This is for me.” She brought her hands to breasts and massaged them before removing her bra and tossing it over her shoulder.

He couldn’t speak, couldn’t think, just let her use his tongue like a toy, his cock aching, neglected, leaking onto his stomach. When she finally pulled away, his face was glazed, his lips swollen, and she laughed—a low, filthy sound—as she smeared her wetness across his face. “Painted by my cunt,” she muttered. “How fitting.”

Then her weight shifted, and he felt her hot breath on his dick a second before her mouth engulfed him, sucking him deep into her throat with a wet, gagging slurp. His back arched off the floor, a broken shout tearing from his lungs as her tongue swirled under his shaft, her fingers digging into his balls, squeezing like she wanted to pop them.

“F-fuck, Ev—please—”

She pulled off with an obscene pop, her lips glistening. “Please what?” she taunted, her hand pumping him roughly, her thumb pressing punishing circles into his slit. “You wanna cum? Beg. Tell me what a worthless fuck toy you are. Tell me you’ll die if I don’t let you splatter all over my tits.”

Hyunjin’s vision blurred, his thighs shaking. “I’m—I’m your worthless fuck toy,” he choked, his voice ragged. “Please, Ev, let me cum—please, I need it—”

She climbed back up his body, her soaked cunt hovering over his cock, and he felt her heat radiating against him, a taunt. “You’ll cum when I’m done with you, slut,” she hissed, and then she sank down, taking him inch by excruciating inch, her tight, dripping walls clenching around him like a fist. “Fuck,” she gasped, her composure slipping for just a second, her nails raking his chest as she bottomed out, his balls pressed flush against her ass. “Look at you—finally useful for something other than spending my money.”

Evelyn’s hips rolled, slow and cruel, her inner muscles milking him as she rode him with the precision of a fucking metronome. Over. And over. And over. Hyunjin’s hands scrabbled at her waist, desperate to grip, to thrust, but she slapped them away.

“Did I say you could touch?” she snapped, her pace quickening, her tits bouncing as she slammed down harder, the wet slap of skin echoing off the walls. “You’re just a dick tonight, baby. My pretty little dick.”

Evelyn fucked him with a precision and passion that left him undone, each movement a testament to her dominance, her control, her absolute refusal to let him forget who he belonged to. Hyunjin's world narrowed to the rhythm of their bodies, the relentless drive of her hips, the shattering intensity of it all. He arched into her, the last vestiges of resistance burning away in the heat of their collision.

Hyunjin sobbed, his orgasm coiling tight but she leaned forward, her mouth hovering over his, her breath hot. “Don’t you fucking dare,” she warned, her cunt clenching viciously around him. “You cum when I say. Not a second sooner.”

Her hand slid between them, her fingers rubbing furious circles on her clit, her moans sharpening to a scream as her own climax ripped through her. Hyunjin felt her pulsing around him, her juices gushing, and then she collapsed against his chest, her teeth sinking into his shoulder as she shuddered.

“Now,” she panted, her voice wrecked, her hips stuttering. “Now you can cum.”

He exploded with a guttural roar, his cum shooting deep inside her, his vision whiting out as she kept riding him, wringing every last drop until he was hollowed out, gasping, her name a broken chant on his lips.

When it was over, he lay there panting, spent, his skin a map of red marks and sweat. Evelyn patted his cheek like he was a dog. “Good boy,” she murmured, smirking as she stood, her thighs streaked with their mess as their collective fluids dripped out of her, her expression one of triumph and satisfaction. She looked down at him, his body still a trembling wreck on the floor. Her eyes were filled with the kind of confidence that left no room for doubt or rebellion.

"Remember this, Jinnie," she said, her voice a soft, dangerous caress. "You may be pretty with a big dick, but I'm the one with the power here. I own your dick. And if you want to fuck other people, you need my permission first. Understand?"

Hyunjin nodded, his pride bruised but intact, his desire for her burning brighter than ever.

“Get out,” she said as she turned to walk away.

Hyunjin sat up. “But Evelyn…,” he whined

She lifted her hand, cutting him off. “I’ll take care of the deposits tonight,” she said over her shoulder as she disappeared down the hallway.

Hyunjin sighed. He'd secured her support, but it had come at a cost, one that left him feeling both exhilarated and subdued.

As he dressed, his hands still trembling from the intensity of it all, Hyunjin couldn't help but smile. The art show was back on track, and though Evelyn had claimed victory tonight, the game was far from over.

****

The gallery was alive with energy, a vibrant pulse that mirrored the rapid beat of Hyunjin's heart. People moved like currents through the space, stopping to admire the paintings that lined the walls. It was a spectacle, a triumph, and Hyunjin stood at the center of it all, basking in the glow of his success.

His work was the star of the evening, the raw intensity of each piece drawing the kind of attention he had only dreamed of. The fear and desperation of the past week faded into the background, replaced by a sense of pride and relief that left him breathless.

Hyunjin moved through the crowd, the chatter of voices a comforting hum around him. He caught sight of Jeongin, a crooked smile on his lips as he chatted with a group of art critics.

Charles was there too, his presence more subdued, a shadow of the man who had once promised the world. He gave Hyunjin a nod, a silent acknowledgment of what they'd shared and lost, a reminder that Evelyn's reach extended far beyond what Hyunjin had imagined.

And Evelyn—Evelyn was everywhere. Her influence was palpable, a guiding hand that had turned potential disaster into undeniable success. She mingled with the guests, her poise and confidence a stark contrast to the turmoil Hyunjin had felt only days before.

Hyunjin's heart skipped as he watched her, the memory of their last encounter a vivid, lingering presence. She was a force, one he couldn't quite control, one he was drawn to with a mixture of longing and defiance.

He shook hands with collectors and patrons, his charm effortless, the recognition and praise flowing as freely as the champagne. It was everything he'd wanted, everything he'd feared he'd lose, and it left him feeling both elated and restless.

Jeongin found him, a glass in hand, his eyes bright with excitement. "You did it," he said, the words simple but filled with the kind of warmth that only Jeongin could give.

Hyunjin grinned, pulling Jeongin into a quick, fierce hug. "We did it," he said, knowing he wouldn't be here without Jeongin's support, without the friendship that had steadied him when everything else was in flux.

They stood together, watching the crowd, the moment a shared victory that tasted all the sweeter for the struggle it had taken to get there.

Evelyn approached, her presence as commanding as ever, a reminder of the debt Hyunjin owed her, both in the gallery and beyond. She gave him a look, one that spoke of triumph and challenge, of a game still in play.

"Congratulations, Jinnie," she said, her voice smooth and knowing. "I heard 8 of your pieces were sold. It seems you pulled it off after all."

Hyunjin met her gaze, the spark between them as electrifying as ever. "Couldn't have done it without you," he replied, the words both a truth and a reminder that he was still in the game, still ready to push back.

Evelyn smiled, the kind of smile that left no doubt as to who was in control. "I know," she said, her confidence as unshakeable as it was alluring.

Hyunjin watched her walk away, his mind a whirlwind of ambition and desire. The art show was a triumph, but it was only the beginning. The power struggle with Evelyn was far from over, and the uncertainty of it all left him both anxious and exhilarated.

He turned back to the crowd, to the life and energy that filled the gallery, a reminder of what he'd achieved and what still lay ahead. The future was a question mark, a tantalizing possibility that beckoned with the promise of more challenges, more victories, more of everything he craved.

Hyunjin took a deep breath, letting the triumph of the night settle over him like a second skin. He was a rising star, a force to be reckoned with, and he wasn't done yet.

[dancinglikebutterflywings]

Sandcastle.

-> Pairing: Yang Jeongin (I.N) x Reader

-> Request: This is a repost from my old account.

-> Synopsis: Reader enjoys sometime at the beach with I.N.

-> Warnings: None.

-> Word Count: 244

-> Requests: Closed. I will make a post when they are open again.

I.N Masterlist

©️ 2024 dancinglikebutterflywings - do not copy/modify/repost anywhere. Likes, comments & reblogs are welcomed and appreciated, thank you. 

Y/N looks at Felix offended that they had trampled on the sandcastle she’s spent the last five minutes working on. It wasn’t intentional, they were trying to catch a ball, but she was devasted that it happened.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Felix quickly apologizes as Jeongin comes over to see what was taking Felix so long to rejoin the game. He finds his girlfriend sitting in the sand, pouting down what was a sandcastle.

“It’s okay, Lix, you didn’t mean it,” she assures him and starts rebuilding it. Jeongin pats him on the back as he heads back to the game. He then sits down opposite her.

“I’ll help you build a new one,” he says picking out some of the shells from the pile of sand and starts helping her build a new sandcastle. Once the sandcastle is rebuilt, Y/N looks at it proudly, taking a photo before moving to sit between Jeongin’s legs.

"Paradise," She sighs happily, leaning back against him as he wraps his arms around her.

“You say that about every beach we go to,” he chuckles, holding her close.

“No matter which beach we go to, it'll always be my second happy place,” she admits looking out at the ocean. “It’s pretty no matter whether it’s calm or stormy. And you can build as many sandcastles as you want.”

“Where’s your first happy place?” he asks curiously.

Getting more comfortable in his hold she smiles, “Right here, in these arms.”

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[quokkareactions]

Stray Kids as angst tropes:

Part 2

Jisung:

You and Jisung are spending the Saturday at the diner where you work as a waitress. Neither of you can stop smiling even for a minute cause you are just so in love with each other it's not even funny.

"Close your eyes, I have a surprise for you" you say with a huge grin on your face.

"Why? I don't want to"

"Pleeeease, baby... Trust me"

"Okay" he gives in with a sigh

~

"Alright. You can open them now"

And when he does you aren't there. He sits at your favourite booth at your favourite diner with his favourite strawberry milkshake in front of him but your mint chip one isn't there. When he looks up to the wall next to him he sees a picture of you smiling down at him. There's a writing below the picture.

"In memoriam: y/n l/n

2000-2022"

Felix:

You and Felix were best friends since forever. Your parents were besties so you basically grew up together and you're definitely not complaining about it. You always did everything together and were really affectionate with each other so much so that people usually believed you two were dating. And when you actually started dating your parents were over the moon.

But soon enough you had to realize that even though you loved each other being a couple just wasn't working. The usual hangouts that previously were filled with laughter, hugs and a lot of fun now became nerve-wrecking and brought discomfort for both of you. You wanted your friendship back but you weren't sure if it's even possible.

"This isn't how I thought it would be" you whispered, voice thick with unshed tears. You weren't sure if you were talking to him or yourself.

"What did you think it would be like?"

His voice was calm but there was an edge to it, a tiredness that you'd never heard before.

"We've known each other forever, but we're barely holding it together"

"I thought we could fix it. I thought love was enough to make it work. I just... I don't understand how we ended up here" you told him.

"Maybe because we tried to make something more out of something that wasn't meant to be"

He took a step towards you, the distance between you and him still feeling like miles.

"Y/n, we were amazing as friends, but this... Us... It's tearing us apart"

Your heart twisted at his words, eyes burning even more than before, but he was right and you knew it.

"So what are you saying? That we just give up and throw away everything we've built?"

"I'm saying that we should stop hurting each other. This is not a goodbye, we just need some time away from each other. "

That's when you finally let your tears fall freely. You wanted to believe him, you really did. But you've crossed lines you can't uncross, broken things that cannot be mended... things will never be the same again between you.

Seungmin:

The airport was crowded, a sea of people moving with purpose, but for you and Seungmin, time seemed to slow. Neither of you spoke, the silence stretching on as the weight of what was unsaid hung heavily between you. Seungmin looked at you with a mixture of pride and pain in his eyes, trying to memorise every detail of your face.

It was you who finally broke the silence, your voice trembling. "I should go"

He nodded but kept quiet. The words he wanted to say caught in his throat, choking him. He wanted to tell you not to go, to stay with him. But he couldn't. He couldn't be that selfish.

"I wish... I wish things were different," you whispered, your voice laced with regret and sadness. "I wish we didn't have to do this."

"This is your dream, Y/n. You've worked so hard for this."

You squeezed his hand, holding on like it was the only thing keeping you grounded. "But I don't want to lose you"

"I don't want to lose you either," he said, his voice hoarse. "But I can't be the one who holds you back."

The finality of his words hit you both like a punch to the gut, and you pulled him into a tight embrace, your tears soaking into his shirt.

"I love you" Seungmin said to you, most likely for the last time.

"I love you too" with a final, tearful glance, you turned and walked away. He stood there, watching until you disappeared from view, his heart shattering with every step you took.

Jeongin:

"Why can't you see it?"

"See what? Why are you shouting at me?"

"You've been the one that he runs to when he's got nobody else"

"That's not true at all, he's just confused about his feelings"

"No, he's just a dick"

"He'll change, Jeongin, I know he will"

"We've already been through this. You always say he's gonna change and he only keeps letting you down"

"Why do you even care?"

"Cause I love you"

You stared at him flabbergasted. If you wanna be completely honest what he said wasn't really shocking just the fact that he had the guts to say it. You've suspected that he likes you for quite some time now but were trying really hard to ignore it cause sadly you did not feel the same.

"Jeongin..."

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry, but-"

"You don't love me that way" he interrupted you.

"I really am so sorry but I just can't" you look down.

"I know, it's okay"

"You sure?"

"Yeah, it's better having you as just a friend than not having you in my life at all"

[teacasket]

i love you bear-y much

genre: fluff au: non idol au warnings: none word count: 0.4k   pairing: gn!reader x yang jeongin

Your sleep-addled brain barely registers Jeongin’s alarm going off, but your tired body definitely feels the bed shift as he gets up. He tucks the blankets around you, sealing in the warmth, before heading to the bathroom. You fall back into slumber and only wake again when he kisses your forehead in goodbye.

“I’ll see you in a week,” he whispers. “I love you.”

“Love you more.”

Several hours later when you’re awake, you stumble into the kitchen to make coffee. Unlike your husband, you have no business trips to go on, but doing freelance work is no easy feat either. Jeongin’s usual mug is in the drying rack, so you grab it in lieu of combing through the expansive souvenir mug collection in the cabinet for today’s choice of drinkware. As you wait for your coffee to brew, your phone vibrates with an incoming video call. Jeongin’s face, lovely albeit worn, fills the screen.

“Hey,” he says. “I’ve landed, and I’m safe. I’m just waiting for my driver. What are you up to?”

“Coffee,” you answer over the sound of the machine. “And then emails.”

“Did you like the gift I left for you?”

You visualize your bedroom, searching for any object that seems out of place. Then you poke your head out to the living room and find nothing unusual there. “I’d like it better if I knew where it was. Did you hide it somewhere?”

“No. You didn’t pick Mug of the Day yet?”

You hold up his mug, decorated with a watercolor rendition of the Busan skyline. “It’s this one.”

He smiles. “Check the cabinet.”

You open the doors, expecting to rummage through the enormous selection available, but the plush teddy bear makes the search much easier. The mug it sits in is new as well.

“‘I love you bear-y much,’” you read aloud. The cartoon bears hug each other, and a red heart floats above their heads. “This is adorable. I love you bear-y, bear-y much.”

“Love you the bear-y most,” he says, laughing when he notices your slight pout. “Please, just let me win this time. My driver’s here.”

“Okay, fine.” You wave goodbye with the arm of the teddy bear. “Stay safe. Call me when you’ve checked in.”

“I will. See you.”

The call ends, and you pour your freshly brewed coffee into your brand new mug. Some sugar and creamer later, it’s complete. You take it to your office along with your new friend, who now lives on the shelf above your desk. As you reply to emails, you can’t help but feel your coffee tastes even better than usual.

[just-french-me-up]

'ao3 needs a like and dislike button'

what you need, my algorithm-rotten minded friend, is a grip

[snaxle]

I DONT WANNA PAY BILLS I WANNA USE MY MONEY FOR FOOD AND LIL GIFTS FOR MYSELF AND MY LOVED ONES

[unpeeled-human]

special defense

does this count as anything ???is this art

[darklight-owl]

Uh oh! You are now a were-animal! This means you become a human-sized animal hybrid with uncontrollable bloodlust every night!

Spin this wheel to get your species

[jordanbolton]

To The Person Who Was Sitting Near Me On The Train - Jordan Bolton

My first book ‘Blue Sky Through the Window of a Moving Car’ is out Nov 7th and is available to pre-order here - https://smarturl.it/BlueSky

[autizmogenderia]

what the fuck why would anyone call it that

[humming-fly]

was thinking about that one blind professor post earlier today and how well it applied to the aptly named Team Dark

(really 'Team Dark' just sounds a lot cooler than 'Team Saves-On-Electricity')

[dancinglikebutterflywings]

Hype Boy | I.N x Reader

-> Pairing: Yang Jeongin x F1 Racer!Reader

-> Request: from @mirlisfreespace

-> Synopsis: Jeongin makes the best hype boy for his girlfriend. Part 02 to I Promise You

-> Warnings: Self-doubt. Anxiety. Negative thinking.

-> Word Count: 390

-> Requests: Open.

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©️ 2024 dancinglikebutterflywings - do not copy/modify/repost anywhere. reblog instead.

Likes, comments & reblogs are welcomed and appreciated, thank you. 

Jeongin spent nearly five minutes searching for his girlfriend when he finds her in one of the side rooms designated for when someone needs to take a break. Her knee is bouncing anxiously, as she bites her lip, and looking as if she's mentally a million miles away. 

"I've been looking for you," Jeongin says, letting her know that it's just him. "Is everything okay?" 

"I don’t know why I’m even doing this," she replies, avoiding eye contact by looking down at the floor. "I'm not even that good. There are so many other racers that are better than me, faster than me, and more experienced than I am. What am I doing here? I don't deserve to be here." 

"I think your full of shit," he tells her sitting next to her. She glares at him, her eyes glossing over. "You deserve to be here.” he continues, taking her hand in his and making her look at him with his free hand. “You've worked your ass off to get where you are today, and I couldn't be prouder of you. Don't let anyone make you feel or think otherwise."  

"You know how competitive Formula One can get," she sighs.  

"Which is testament to how hard you've worked to get here. It's proof that you deserve to be here just as much, if not more, than the others," he counters. "Now, stop doubting yourself, get in that car, and show them what you're made of. Show them why you deserve to be here." 

"What would I do without you?" she asks a faint smile on her lips as she looks at him loving. 

"You don't have to worry about that because I'll always be here, supporting you and reminding you of your worth," he smiled, pressing a kiss to her hand. 

"I love you," she says pressing a kiss to his lips. 

"I love you too," he says and stands up, her hand still in his, and leads her out of the room so she can prepare for her race. 

As they walk back towards the main area, Jeongin can't help but feel a surge of pride for his girlfriend. He’s witnessed her dedication and passion for racing firsthand, and he knows that she has what it takes to succeed even further in the competitive world of Formula One racing. 

TAGGING: @staytiny2000 - @dancelikebutterflywings-library - @kpopmenace143 - @treehouse-mouse - @alexxavicry

@rainydayteacups - @tinyelfperson - @laylasbunbunny - @skz1-4-3 - @pinkies-things

@kayleefriedchicken - @everythingboutkpop

[rtz669]

guys what's your methods? personally i think about doctors examining me, works like a charm

[captaincalamity]

this makes it sound like he was fucking sniffing around the set searching for lapis lazuli and that’s so much funnier than reality

[scapegods]

what if this scene was worse