#kim yugyeom imagine

[onewmin]

the perfume on the shelf. pt. 11 | bangchan

Pairings: Bang Chan x Fem!reader, Kim Yugyeom x Fem!reader

Summary: Falling in love with your best friend was never a part of the plan. So you end it up. But does he want to put a stop to it, too?

Warnings: AU, mentions of verbal and physical abuse, descriptions of a toxic relationship, mentions of s*icidal thoughts, profanity, descritpion of a fire, the reader loves her cat very much, another day of the reader and Chan being annoying (the latter especially), jealousy, the reader is going through major changes (good for her), another bunch of Taylor Swift references, the reader has yet another traumatic experience; typos

In the parts with the cat it's very much self-inserted. Shout out to my cat and all other kitties and doggies <3

'Dal' stands for 'moon' :)

Word count: 5411

Author’s note: welp, there's a lot to read lol. Idk why this whole work lacks happy moments so much, I'm trying my best to make it more positive, but in the end... We get this lol. Still, hope you enjoy another part! I'll try posting part 12 in a couple of weeks, but, as my summer vacation is over, I'll have a lot of work to do, so I cannot promise you an exact date. Again, thank you fro reading and supporting 'the perfume on the shelf' and enjoy the ride! (put ya seatbelts on)

Disclaimer: the names and appearances of real people are used for inspiration and writing purposes only. I do not claim anything, everything belongs to its owners.

Part 10 | Part 12

Another day to cry in the bathroom of your therapist’s office. 

Wiping your red cheeks, you took a deep breath in, trying to calm this sudden outburst of pain down. Talking about your unsuccessful attempt to go back together with Chan resurfaced in something deep, something that has affected you too much to even be able to handle it on your own. Your fear of rejection has finally become real - and instead of feeling calm after so many years of being scared of it, you found yourself utterly broken. 

As long as you could remember yourself, this fear of being rejected has pressured you into staying out of the picture, of never saying what you truly feel. You were shaking at the thought of confessing to Yugyeom, when you were a teenager; your breath was hitched in your throat when you decided to join that writing club at university; the idea of asking anybody out made you sick to your stomach. And finally, all the mess with Chan was partially launched by your inability to ask direct questions, to come clean eventually. However, your initial choice was to live a lie, to let yourself have dust thrown into your eyes, to rather have smoke and mirrors than an honest relationship. What does this say about you? 

“I don’t know”, you muttered, looking at the reflection in the mirror. “I don’t know”, you repeated, sniffing and exhaling once again. When you were nineteen, everything seemed so easy. When you were nineteen, you seemed to know everything. 

“What would nineteen-year old you say about this whole situation?” Your therapist’s question was left unanswered, rather as introspection for the next two weeks. What would she say, really? That’s a walk in the park for her.

“Dump his ass”, the advice you used to give all of your girlfriends popped up in your head. “Find a new hobby, work more, go out more - do anything to forget him. He’s not worth your tears and time”. Easier said than done. 

You sighed once again, before collecting your lip gloss back into your purse. It’s time to go home and prepare for going out; even though you try following your own advice, the thought of Chan is a lingering memory, a signature left right on your forever restless brain. 

Running up the stairs on your subway station, you checked your messages to find Yugyeom and Eunjoo discussing art in the chat. Two weeks ago, after the airport incident, when Yugyeom was dropping you off at your apartment complex (the conversation with your parents about your early departure from the countryside was guided by Gyeom perfectly), Eunjoo caught the sight of the two of you while she was waiting for her best friend on the bench. For some reason she decided it would be a great idea to start going on ‘double dates’ - although, you could barely call them dates at all. She was unsure about her relationship with Minho, so she needed you to check up on him. You didn’t want to be the third wheel, so… So she invited Yugyeom. And now the four of you had a group chat. Was it a nightmare? Absolutely. You found out what nerds Gyeom and Eunjoo were; discussing everything - even rocket science, are you kidding me? - while you and Minho intervened in their intellectual conversations with memes and ridiculous videos to watch. For instance, when you sent a Tarot reading video, just for shits and giggles, just to send a follow up message, “This woman said I’m gonna have a billionaire husband in a couple of months” - only to get bashed by two absolute smartasses for your silly little hobby, as they threw in their pieces of mind on how Tarot is a scam, and it doesn’t work, and people like that woman are a fraud - et cetera, et cetera, blah-blah-blah. Minho, on the other hand, was pretty supportive (and a pain in the ass for Eunjoo and Yugyeom) when he sent in ten more videos of that same creator, chiming in with his comments about toxicity. Yeah, this chat was a shit show; however, it was bringing you too much joy to hate it.

In your apartment your cat greeted you with irritated meows and sweet purrs when you took her in your arms as if she was a baby. “Mama’s sorry, Gaeul”, you said, kissing her in between ears, “but I promise I’ll be back sooner than later. Just a couple of hours, okay?” She started gently biting your hand as you tried to scratch her tummy. “And you get to be the boss of the house. Not just for a few hours”, you kissed her nose and she put her paw on your cheek, “but forever, Gaeul”. She jumped from your arms as soon as you heard a loud stomp and a screeching curse - ugh, your neighbours were fighting again. How could a family that looks picture perfect hate each other so much? Well, you knew the answer to the question, but still, it never failed to arise every time you heard these two fight.

“You’re a piece of shit, Hajoon!” You sighed as you heard the man’s voice. “A piece of shit wife and mother!” This was the unfortunate reality-TV-turned-real-life program you had to listen to; the walls were rather thin not to hear them constantly fight over stupidest things in front of their little girls. When you saw the two of them ride their bikes and laugh, you always wondered, how they managed not to lose their innocence yet - with parents like theirs, who trapped themselves in a toxic marriage, the innocence of a child being saved was a miracle. 

The drama continued as the woman cried out harsher curses, accusing her husband of cheating. Is that the life that awaits everyone in a marriage? Is that the life you’re going to have too? That’s what your parents have; constant fights, verbal abuse, toxic apologies with flowers and luxury candy, and no words uttered. No resolution of those conflicts, no rethinking of the life choices they’d made to get to this point of no return. Nothing. And this family, a family so similar to yours, was the same. Only the girls were lucky to have each other and not to be alone. However, calling the kids ‘lucky’ for lulling each other when their parents scream all types of insults, calling the children they created with ‘so much love and affection’, as the mother posted on her stories, ‘mistakes’ when they were in another room - calling them ‘lucky’ was a direct insult. 

Accompanied by curses coming from a wall away from your living room, Gaeul was circling around you the whole time you were collecting your things. When you looked at the wrist watch, it was already ten minutes past the time you should have left the house. “Shit”, you mumbled, rapidly taking the bag in your hands and giving Gaeul a couple of more scratches, while she was meowing and standing in front of the door. “I’ll see you in a couple of hours, sweetie”. 

You were supposed to be drinking as the four of you were going for some type of party one of Minho’s friends was throwing - so taking the car wasn’t an option; you didn’t know much about Changbin, but you were willing to get out of your shell and meet new people. “Maybe you’ll finally find a boyfriend there”, your mom told you over the phone, “you’ll be thirty soon - not really soon, though - and your father and I are waiting for grandkids. Your cousin is already a mother”. Ugh, yeah, whatever. Some nonsense that your mother confidently states is out of this world sometimes. 

Running up to a bus stop, you conveniently saw your bus pull up; jumping in it, you paid for the ticket and sat down on one of the many empty places, staring out of the window. As the music took you to another dimension, your thoughts flew by, pictures of your mother nagging you about the prospect of marriage, Chan putting his arm over Micha’s shoulder, Gyeom stuffing his mouth with a sandwich in one bite, Eunjoo and Minho holding hands ran in your mind with a uncontrollably rapid speed. You were thinking about Chan less each day, the images of him being replaced by your friends, new people you met and surprising revelations you made about this world and, first of all, yourself. 

Every bus ride that lasted more than twenty minutes - just like this one - got you hooked on rethinking and reflecting on every little thing that had ever happened to you. Sometimes it would be sappy, rainy autumn day like memories: Chan holding your hand while driving, bringing it to his lips to leave a small kiss on your knuckles every time the car stopped at the red light; you and him lying in bed, face to face, heart to heart, having those rare sincere conversations, filled with laughs and kisses. Whereas sometimes you’d lose yourself to cheerful moments, those July bright yellow afternoon days memories, with Yugyeom watching you chase after his golden retriever Dal; with you watching some happy kids fly kites while on a picnic with Eunjoo; with you writing your earliest stories in your old diary, sitting behind the desk in you sunlit childhood bedroom. The happiest that you were, in all of those memories you couldn’t even find the ghost of Chan; as if he had never existed in the most joyful moments of your life. As if - no, no ‘if’s’ - he had only brought you pain, and tears, and gut wrenching disgust towards your own self, towards the little girl, singing along the radio songs in her parents’ car, towards the fifteen year old girl, who wrote her stories on her old laptop and squealed after getting her first likes on the web, towards the woman you’d become. The woman who made stupid mistakes one after another, noticing but not seeing the pattern she had with every lover of hers, not seeing Chan being the same guy like the rest of them in her history. The woman you’d become, the woman you’re still thriving to be - she doesn’t deserve the slander you put her through. 

There might have been happiness during him - his jokes, warm hugs, car rides to his parents’ country house, him playing with Gaeul, his voice, his soft curls, his late love confessions. But there would certainly be more happiness after him, after this whole mess you yourself created. No acid rains burning your cheeks anymore, no scratching yourself so much you start bleeding anymore, no gray colors during the brightest sunny summer mornings. Is this what the phase of acceptance looks like? Is this where you stop blaming Chan for the pain he caused you? Nah, you’re not there yet. But close. Definitely close. 

Receiving another text in the group chat, your thoughts suddenly led you to the anxious search for your ID in the handbag of yours. “Shit, shit, shit”, you muttered under your breath, when you realized it was nowhere to be found. Did you lose it on your way to the bus stop? Or did you lose it here? Oh no. You rolled your eyes at the clear memory of seeing it on the kitchen counter before you rushed out of the apartment. How could you be so irresponsible? You’d never forgotten your ID, ever in your life, even taking it to the convenience store at 7AM to get a snack on your day off. And now, when you clearly needed it to get in the club, you’d left it at home? Super responsible, girl, just awesome. 

Having jumped off the bus at the nearest stop, you caught yourself feeling absolutely shameless about the fact of being late. After you moved almost to the outskirts of the city, not being on time has become your signature mark. Now you were texting your friends, explaining the whole situation, while getting in an Uber - just to shorten the forty minutes you’d already spent on the bus to twenty-five. And as the car started off, your friends couldn’t leave you alone. 

“Gyeom, I’m sorry”. The first words you said to him after picking up, annoyance recognizable in your voice. Yeah, you were the one being late, but Mr. Punctuality didn’t have to remind you about it as well. 

“I’m actually late too”, he let out a breathy chuckle. What? Kim Yugyeom coming late? 

“What happened?”

“Nothing”, he sighed, “I just spent too much time on the phone with my dad”. You hummed in response. “I can pick you up, by the way”, Yugyeom added. 

“You don’t have to”. 

“Ah, it’s not like I’m goin’ to be on time anyway”. The yippy notes in his voice made you reflect the smile he was probably wearing on his face. “So it’s not a problem, really”.

“Thanks, Gyeom”. 

“I’ll be at your place in, uh, around ten minutes”. As you ended the conversation, you heard the siren sounds in the distance. It wasn’t an unordinary occasion: the song of the sirens was playing almost an unstoppable tune every minute of the day, as the ambulances were rushing through the busy streets, or the firemen were driving to stop the fires. It was not unusual for a city like Seoul; however, the closer you were getting to your apartment complex, the more the clump of fear inside your chest grew. 

The first thing you saw when the car turned to your building was the blinding light of the fire truck. Then it was the group of firemen. After it was the crowd, surrounding the fire engine. The last thing was the smoke coming out of the apartment on the fifth floor. From the apartment right next to yours. 

Jumping off the car, you rushed through the crowd, forcibly pushing apart the nosy neighbors and bystanders, only to be stopped by a firefighter. You couldn’t think of anything else, of other people, of the party you were late to, of the things in your apartment - the only image in your head was of Gaeul. How scared she must be, how she’s probably sitting in the corner of your room, far away from the strange and dangerous smell. The clouded vision of yours, the tears in your eyes were invisible to you. The only thing you needed was to get your baby out of there. 

“Miss, you cannot go in there”, the voice of the firemen echoed in your ears. 

“My cat’s in there”, you mumbled, but he heard you, “I need to get her out. It’s an apartment right next to that that’s burning”. 

“We’ll get her out, no need to worry”. The calm notes in his voice had awoken some primal rage in you - how could he even say that? You couldn’t not worry, for fuck’s sake! 

You quickly disappeared in the crowd so that the firefighter wouldn't recognise you if something was about to happen. There was an emergency exit, but they were probably evacuating people through it, right? What should you do to get in? 

As the thoughts were rapidly running through your head, you saw smoke coming from another window. Your window now. Your heart sank; everything around started spinning slowly and you grabbed your chest in order to calm yourself down - at least, a little bit, at least, before you took Gaeul in your arms. 

Fuck it. You hastened your steps through the crowd, away from the main entrance, in hopes to get lost amidst those being evacuated, in hopes to get through the emergency exit without being caught. In the inner yard of your building your restless, teary eyes noticed one fireman guarding the entrance; and over there, on the bench was your neighbour from the fourth floor, a fourteen year old, holding her brown dog close to her heart. 

“Hello?” She picked up her phone, the shaky voice of hers bringing more blood to your already jolting heart. How smart it was to exchange numbers with her all those months ago.

“Could you distract that firefighter for me, please?” You uttered, while looking at her. She turned her head and found your eyes. “My cat’s still in there. I can’t… I can’t wait till they save her. Please”. The girl nodded and quickly rose up to her feet, probably coming up with an idea of taking the fireman’s attention. 

She ran up to the man, still holding the dog in her arms, and started rambling something loudly, the hysteric condition of hers being the direct result of this horrible evening. “What was she up to?” You thought to yourself as you moved from a tree to a tree as fast as you could. “Was she walking her dog when the fire started? Was she at home?” 

How convenient it was to have a bunch of trees to grow in the inner yard of the apartment building. “I should thank the managing lady after it”, you watched as the firefighter turned his back to the entrance - now. The adrenaline in your stomach felt like a fuel to the fire of anxiety and fear; as you leapt up the stairs, two, three steps missed, your heart was pumping somewhere in your throat, bringing the inevitable, horrible thoughts to your brain. You brushed them off before you reached your floor, running in the corridor, which was filled with smoke, with an empty head. The door to your apartment was being broken down as you ran up to it, right on time - maybe, the first time you were not late in the last couple of years. The firefighters weren’t pleased a resident was out in the dangerous area, but you quickly opened the door - having promised you’d let them in without getting inside yourself - breaking the recently made promise immediately when the lock was open, dropping the keys to the ground. If the building management had fixed the electronic locks on time, maybe the whole building wouldn’t have to use keys; maybe, the fire issue would have been resolved earlier, had the firemen had an easier access to the apartments. 

Gray. Choking color gray - that's what your apartment was. You could get suffocated in here just for breathing in the smoke, but was it even a priority? You would die but get Gaeul out of this place.

“Gaeul!” Your voice came out quaking, eyes getting watery with every step you took. “Gaeul, baby!” Almost flying into your bedroom, you noticed her scratching the window in hopeless attempts to get out. “Baby, you’re safe”, you whispered, swooping her in your arms. She let out a weak meow as you covered her chubby face with a palm of your hand. The firefighter was quick to escort you from the apartment, having thrown a blanket from the couch over your shoulders. You wrapped Gaeul in it when you got to the hall; she was meowing as you ran down the stairs, telling you how scared she was. “I know, honey, I know”, you kept on repeating, “you’re safe now”. 

The fresh air hit both of your faces abruptly, making you gasp and cough. Holding Gaeul as close to your heart as it was possible - perhaps, if you squeezed her tighter, she would be inserted in your heart directly - you sat down on the grass next to the girl with a dog sleeping on her lap. 

“Is she okay?” You nodded, leaving a kiss between Gaeul’s brown ears. She started purring, exuding that velvety purring of hers that signaled of her finally feeling safe. After finding her in a pouring rain, as her dirty little paws left marks on your white hoodie and her squeaky voice notified you she wasn’t pleased with being carried by some stranger, after washing her up and taking her to the vet, after making sure she felt comfortable in every corner of any of the places where you lived, after teaching her to use the litter box, after buying her the most expensive and delicious food she liked, after having her sleep in between your legs every night since the first one she spent with you, after building up your whole life around her when you needed someone to give your unconditional love to, after having no suicidal thoughts the moment she took a step in your apartment, after having her as the only living creature who loved you unlimitedly - how could you sit and wait till they save her? How could you leave her little figure in the hands of fate? 

“Mr. Choi set his apartment on fire”, the girl said while petting her dog. “That’s entirely his fault”. 

“Tell me about it”, you mumbled. 

“Why didn't the police do anything when they were called on them last week?” She questioned. “He literally threatened to burn the house down”. You shrugged your shoulders. No one really did anything when he threatened to jump off the window, no one took his threats seriously when he promised to burn the apartment if his wife got on his nerves again. Yeah, like it’s a reasonable excuse for a possible homicide. What a scumbag. 

“He ran away though”. She sighed. “But they’ll find him in no time, I guess. Mrs. Choi said he broke his wrist trying to hit her, so he won’t be far away”. You nodded absentmindedly, eyes still focused on Gaeul. She already seemed peaceful, only her yellowish eyes still being completely overtaken by the dilated pupils. She was lying on your legs, covered by that blanket. “Isn’t it your phone buzzing?”

Oh, that was the annoying feeling in the pocket of your jeans. “Hello”. You responded in a monotonous voice. 

“Where are you?” Yugyeom sounded panicked. “I’ve been calling you for the past ten minutes! Are you okay? Where are you?” He repeated. After muttering a few words you hung up, putting the phone on the grass. The autumn nights started to get chilly; but you were willing to stay seated on the cold ground as long as it took for Gaeul to fully calm down. 

In mere seconds Yugyeom appeared in the inner yard, dashing to you. “Are you okay?” He observed you carefully, and then the gaze of his fell to Gaeul, curled up on your lap. “Are you okay, sweetling?”

“She ran into the building to save her cat”, your neighbor proudly proclaimed. Yugyeom gave a look - not the ‘Are you crazy?’ or ‘You’re insane’ one, but the look, striking as… Worry? Pain? Hurt? Love? 

“I think the two of you need some warming up”. His soft voice impinged upon your indifference to everything but Gaeul; it seemed as if the part of you that was scared started to heal as soon as he helped you get on your feet. For the first time in the last half an hour you shivered under the cool wind, and Yugyeom took his zipper hoodie off to put it on your shoulders. 

“You’re wearing a T-shirt”. You stated, looking at him. He gave you a small smile and shrugged his shoulders. 

“I like the cold. I’m like Johnny Storm, y’know that”. You let out a breathy laugh - the first one after pulling up to the building. Your cat was already napping in your arms - the safest place for her, as it turned out - so you and Yugyeom slowly moved to his car. 

The windows of your neighbors had ruined the whole front of the building - now the gaze of any person would fall on black frames around them. “I wonder if my landlady is here”. You said, when getting on the passenger seat. 

“D’you want me to find her?”

“Gyeom, no”, you answered in a soft voice, ‘you’ve already done enough”. His brows knitted as he looked at you with utter confusion written all over his face. 

“I didn’t do anything except for panicking and calling Minho and Eunjoo”, he noted, “and not like it’s hard to help you. Especially now”. 

You gave in rather quickly. “Alright”. 

“Give me her number, so I-”

“Just take my phone”, you shoved the device in his hands, “she doesn’t pick up if she doesn’t know the number”. He nodded before getting out of the car. 

And as you were petting your sleepy cat, you felt the tears being finally let go from your eyes. Gaeul woke up when the salty drops fell on her side and, after staring at you for a couple seconds, started to licking herself up. You laughed through the choking tears and caressed her head and back, thinking how much your life had changed since the moment she magically appeared in it. It became… Brighter, funnier, sweeter. Even when she would wake you up at three AM ‘cause she was hungry; or when she would try to eat the yarn whenever you crocheted; or when she would sit on the kitchen counter while you were cooking. The thought of losing her made your heart hurt even more than it already was. 

“We’ll be fine, right, baby?” You murmured when she started snoring quietly; you turned your head to look out of the window and noticed Gyeom in the distance, still talking with someone over the phone. A strange feeling of being absolutely safe around him had arisen in your chest the moment you saw his worried face tonight; maybe you shouldn’t push him away too hard - he’s one of the few people you can trust, after all. 

Gyeom was right; he cannot certainly save you like he used to when you were kids. You can come up with a rescue plan yourself, like today, when you couldn’t wait for anyone else to save the most loved part of you. Anyone but you. Gyeom cannot save you; but he can give you  the sense of comfort after you help yourself get back to life. 

“Gaeul”, you muttered, “how long it’s been since we called him ‘Gyeom’?” A short version of his name, and he hated being called that. But when it came to you, his first love? He blushed whenever you said ‘Gyeom’. And why did you start calling him that again? Maybe that’s a sign, you thought to yourself, leaning your head back, maybe I do need him around.

“So you mean to tell me”, Jisung was talking with his mouth full, “that you and Micha are not together? What’s the point of bringing her here then?”

Chan let out a deep sigh. It was only a matter of time when Han found out. “We are together. But we just don’t like labeling it as a ‘relationship’ Just give us some more time”. 

“ Are you kiddin’ me? It’s been two weeks, Chan!” He gnashed his teeth. “Every media outlet is calling me to confirm whether the two of you are together. What am I supposed to tell them?”

“That it’s none of their business”. 

“It doesn't work anymore. Is she your girlfriend or not?”

“She is, technically”, Chris leaned in his chair, “we’re in an open relationship”. Jisung set his palms down flat on the table, the heavy breathing of his sending shivers down Chan’s spine. He loved riling his friend up, but sometimes he seemed to forget Han was also his manager. A scary one at times. 

“I swear to God”, Jisung hissed, “I’m gonna kill you and replace you with another dude. No one will see a difference”. Chris chuckled and went back to his dinner, leaving Han’s question unanswered. 

Him and Micha had a lot of history; but when he showed up at her door, drunk to the bone, she was more than shocked. He kept on complaining, crying about you, cursing you, proclaiming his love for you. Micha was impressed only by him being that emotional - nothing like that ever happened when they were together. A couple of days later one thing led to another and… Some time after that she was already packing her bags to go to Melbourne with him. Was it a smart, calculated decision? Absolutely not. But Chan, for whatever reason, promised to support her financially before she’d find a job there; alright, to be honest? He wanted to hurt you. To hurt you the same way your reconciliation with Yugyeom made him feel. Chan wanted to see you suffer as much as he did, to see you try to beg for him to come back to you. Spoiler alert: you never did. 

Except for the airport incident. He almost caught the slightest glimpse of you, almost canceled his entire flight, almost called off all the business he had in Australia. If only he could delve into your features one more time, he would’ve put everyone aside. ‘Cause if you were there and he saw you, he wouldn’t need anything else. But he didn’t see you, so it was all settled as it was supposed to be. 

Han was grumbling something under his breath while Chan was scrolling down the latest news; some of his friends had a comeback coming up, the other was starring in a new drama, the third proposed to his girlfriend… Everyone seemed to have their life put together but him. When he laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, Micha’s head resting on his arm, Chan would only think about a life he gave away. He could’ve been lying in his bed now, with his head snuggled into your neck, inhaling that sweet scent of yours right into his system. He could’ve been waking up to your leg lapped across his. He could’ve been with the woman he’s in love with, not the one he pretends to love. Micha doesn’t deserve this; but something tells him that she knows - just pretends not to notice. 

‘Hey, doesn’t this house seem familiar to you?” Han shoved his phone right into Chan’s face; when his eyes could finally focus, he recognised the building immediately. “They report it’s been a fire, they’re still locating it”, Jisung continued, “and the guy who started it wanted to kill his family. What a piece of shit”. 

The only thing Chan could see was smoke coming out from the apartment scarily close to yours. He was unable to forget the window of yours, the window he would always look up to just to see your smiley face. “Can I borrow your phone?”

Jisung swallowed his food, looking confused. “What for?”

“I need to call her”. Han rolled his eyes but obliged, lending the phone to his friend. Chan practically jumped from his seat, running from the second floor of the restaurant they were in to the street. Chan was aware of you blocking him everywhere; so he hoped you’d pick up if Han called. What was that logic? Why would you even pick up?

If the fire was still being located, how big is it? Were you home when it started? Were you not? Is Gaeul okay? 

Long beeps only fueled his anxiety. Pick up, pick up, pick up. Please. 

“Hello?” The voice on the other side of the phone wasn’t the silky one Chan was hoping to hear. 

Chan asked for your name. Was it a cop? A firefighter? A doctor? “She’s okay, she wasn’t home when the fire broke out”.

“Who am I talkin’ to?”

“Kim Yugyeom. I’m a friend. You?”

Another tingling in his chest, every little blood cell of his running to his head, fueling his rage and pain, mixing them altogether. So, Yugyeom is there? After all of your claims he meant nothing to you? 

“Hello?” Yugyeom asked once again. “Say your name at least, so that she’d know whom to call back”.

��Don’t you see the name on the screen?” Chan’s words came out harsher than he planned. “Sorry, whatever. Don’t tell her anything”. Chris hung up the phone and let out an exasperated sigh. Rubbing his face with his hands, Chan couldn’t even comprehend what he was feeling. Why was the mere thought of you and Yugyeom in the same space bringing him the worst pain of it all? It was jealousy. It was all the love he couldn’t properly give you resulting in that horrendous feeling of envy. The feeling that Yugyeom might give this love to you. The love that you deserve. 

How long will he continue pining over you? Maybe he should just start paying more attention to his actual girlfriend rather than the dream woman of his?

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In the spotlight

yugyeom x female dancer!reader

WARNINGS: Smut so minors DO NOT INTERACT: P in v (wrap it up!), getting caught, secret relationship, public teasing, edging

Wc: 1.1k

A/N: I came out of my GRAVE for this one. I'm not gonna lie i stopped being a kpop fan ever since got7 left jyp but now that they are back, it only felt right for me to come back aswell (for a moment at least) so uhm enjoy whatever this is. Idk if yall saw that one video of him with that dancer but it's based of that

The dim lights cast a glow across the stage as the bass of the music reverberated through the crowd. Yugyeom's presence commanded every eye, his movements fluid yet powerful. But none of them knew the truth behind the passion in his steps or the fire in his eyes. Only you did.

You were his partner tonight, both on the stage and in the shadows. The world thought your chemistry was born of professionalism, two artists feeding off the energy of a shared performance. But beneath the surface, every glance, every touch, every moment was loaded with a truth only the two of you shared.

Then the moment came. The choreography demanded intimacy, but your connection turned it into something electric. His hands found your waist, gripping just tightly enough to send a shiver down your spine, a silent reminder of how well he knew your body. You arched into him, the heat between you igniting as the rhythm dictated your movements.

His lips were so close to your ear that you could feel the warmth of his breath, and though his expression remained composed for the crowd, you saw the flicker of desire in his dark eyes as they met yours. “Focus,” he murmured, voice low enough for only you to hear.

A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips. It wasn’t like you could focus on anything but him.

The routine continued, every spin, dip, and step pulling you closer to the edge of losing control. When the lights dimmed for the next transition, his hand lingered on your hip just a fraction too long. The crowd wouldn't notice, but you did.

As the performance ended, the cheers were deafening. The two of you walked off stage, still playing the roles of colleagues and co-performers. But as soon as the dressing room door clicked shut, Yugyeom spun you around, pressing you against the wall with the same intensity he showed on stage.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he breathed, his forehead resting against yours. His hands, warm and familiar, settled on your waist again.

“And you’re the one pushing the limits,” you whispered back, teasing him as you traced the edge of his jaw with your fingertips.

The tension was heavy between you. His resolve snapped, and his lips crashed onto yours in a kiss that was desperate, heated, and all-consuming. You melted into him, your hands tangling in his hair as his body pressed tightly against yours.

A muffled groan escaped him as his hips shifted against you, and you felt him harden against your stomach. The sound sent a jolt through you, your own desire rising as his hands gripped you tighter.

His lips parted, and you swallowed his moan as the kiss deepened. Every feeling, every stolen glance, and every unspoken word came pouring out in that moment, leaving you both breathless.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours once more, his breathing ragged. “We’re supposed to be careful,” he murmured, his voice rough but laced with longing.

You smiled, brushing your lips lightly against his again. “Careful is boring.”

Yugyeom’s dark eyes bore into yours, his gaze filled with something primal, something that made your knees weak. He glanced toward the door one last time, ensuring no one was around before his hands slid down to the waistband of his pants.

“Yugyeom…” you whispered, your voice a mix of excitement and nervousness.

He leaned in, brushing his lips along the shell of your ear. “Be quiet for me, baby,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, sending a delicious shiver down your spine.

Before you could respond, he spun you around, pressing your front gently but firmly against the wall. His hands roamed over your waist, pulling your body closer to his as he pressed a trail of soft, lingering kisses along the curve of your neck. Each touch, each kiss, ignited a fire deep within you, the thrill of being so exposed adding to the intensity.

He unbuttoned his pants, the sound of the zipper cutting through the quiet room. You felt his hands slide to your hips, tugging at the waistband of your pants and pulling them down just enough. The cool air hit your skin, heightening every sensation as his hands steadied you.

His lips found the sensitive spot behind your ear, his breath warm and intoxicating. “You’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice rough with desire sending a spark trough your whole body.

You bit your lip to stifle a moan as he inserted himself in you, his movements slow and deliberate, savoring every moment. His hands held you firmly, his touch both grounding and electrifying as he pulled you further onto him. “You feel so good,” he groaned softly, his lips brushing against your ear.

The intimacy of the moment consumed you both, your breaths mingling, your bodies moving together in perfect rhythm.

But just as the tension reached its peak, a loud knock at the door shattered the spell.

“Yugyeom! You in there?”

It was Bambam.

Panic flashed across Yugyeom’s face as he quickly stepped back, his hands fumbling to fix his pants. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath, his movements hurried but quiet.

You scrambled to pull up your pants, your cheeks flushed and heart racing as the door creaked open before Yugyeom could say a word.

Bambam strolled in, his usual mischievous grin on his face. He stopped mid-step, his eyes flickering between the two of you. Yugyeom’s flushed face and your disheveled appearance were impossible to miss.

For a moment, there was silence. Then Bambam’s grin widened, and he let out a loud, amused laugh.

“Oh my God,” he said, doubling over as his laughter filled the room. “Are you serious? Here?”

Yugyeom glared at him, his face red with both embarrassment and frustration. “Could you not knock and wait for me to answer?” he snapped, his voice sharp but still carrying an edge of mortification.

Bambam smirked, crossing his arms as he leaned casually against the doorframe. “If I knew I was interrupting this, I would’ve waited. But honestly, this is gold.”

You buried your face in your hands, torn between wanting to disappear and wanting to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. Yugyeom stepped in front of you protectively, his glare unwavering. “Get out, Bambam.”

Still chuckling, Bambam held up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright, I’m leaving. But seriously, next time, maybe lock the door or something.”

With that, he turned and sauntered out, leaving the door slightly ajar as his laughter echoed down the hallway.

Yugyeom sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair before turning to you. “I’m going to kill him,” he muttered, though the corners of his lips twitched as if he was fighting back a smile.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension broken as you leaned into him. “That was… something.”

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. “Next time, we’re locking the door.”

[chugging-antiseptic-dye]

got7 as supermarket cashiers:

jaebeom: glares at the customers if they distract him while working. is never at the checkout counter cause he has to do the manager's job as well

mark: works at his own pace and time. give discounts to customers if they have a cute pet

jackson: knows the names of all the regular customers. WILL nag them to take better care of themselves

jinyoung: gets pocket money from all the aunties and grandmothers that come to the store. rub's that in everyone's face.

youngjae: has headphones in his ears 24/7. gets nervous when he has to check out a long line

bambam: 'borrows' gum and makeup samples from the store. leaves the cash register open to bother yugyeom

yugyeom: cries once a week when customers (or jinyoung) yell at him for being slow

[kathaelipwse]

Oops... Did I Just Confess? | GOT7

Theme: An accident confession {Texts & Tweets}

Requested by: @canigotosleep--plz

Warnings: Fluff, on crack, unserious, funny, gn!reader, Non-Idol!GOT7

Word Count: 0.7k

☀️ Mark – "The Late-Night Oops"

↳ Text Messages

[You]: Ugh, Mark, I think I have a crush on someone 😩

[Mark]: Yeah, but they’re not me.

[You]: … HUH???

[Mark]: WAIT I DIDN’T MEAN TO SAY THAT

[Mark]: PRETEND YOU DIDN’T SEE THAT

[You]: Too late. You got some explaining to do, mister 👀

[Mark]: … I hate myself.

☀️ Jaebum – "Drunk and in Love"

↳ Text Messages [The next morning after the drunk confession]

[You]: Good morning, sleepyhead

[Jaebum]: Morning.

[You]: Do you remember what you said last night?

[Jaebum]: No… why?

[You]: You said "Love you" before knocking out.

[Jaebum]: …

[Jaebum]: Lemme just… erase myself from the planet real quick.

[You]: Sooo, was that an accident or should I say "I love you too"?

[Jaebum]: … I’m never speaking again.

☀️ Jackson – "Dramatic and Down Bad"

↳ Tweet on the friends group community

@ JacksonWang852: Y’all ever accidentally confess your love in the middle of a joke and then wanna delete yourself from existence??? Asking for a friend.

~ Replies: → @ You: OH SO NOW YOU WANNA ASK FOR ADVICE? → @ BamBam1A: Bro you did this to yourself lmaooo → @ Jinyoung: This is why you think before you speak. → @ You: Anyways, you love me, huh? 👀

@ JacksonWang852: NO ONE TALK TO ME EVER AGAIN.

☀️ Jinyoung – "He Really Thought He Was Subtle"

↳ Text Message

[You]: Did you really just say "I like you" in the middle of roasting me???

[Jinyoung]: … I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.

[You]: Sir. I am SCREAMING.

[Jinyoung]: Can you scream elsewhere. This is embarrassing.

[You]: Nah, I’m framing this convo. You like meeee 😌

[Jinyoung]: I regret everything.

☀️ Youngjae – "The Text That Changed Everything"

↳ Text Message

[Youngjae] → (accidentally sends "I love you" to you instead of his mom)

[You]: …Wait what.

[Youngjae]: HOLY SH— I DIDN’T MEAN TO SEND THAT TO YOU 😭😭😭

[You]: LMAOOO SO WHO WERE YOU TRYING TO SAY IT TO HUH???

[Youngjae]: MY MOM!! OMG STOP BULLYING ME!!

[You]: Soo… you don’t love me?

[Youngjae]: WAIT WAIT WAIT. I DO. I MEAN. I DIDN’T WANNA SAY IT LIKE THIS BUT YES. I DO.

☀️ BamBam – “The Dare That Backfired”

↳ Tweet

@ BamBam1A: Dating is so easy. Y’all just scared. 😌

~ Replies: → @ You: OH? If it’s so easy, then date me. → @ BamBam1A: LMAO bet. ��

5 minutes later…

@ BamBam1A: WAIT WAIT WAIT HOLD ON—

→ @ You: Nah, you said bet. We’re dating now, babe. ❤️😘 → @ MarkTuan: This is the dumbest way to start a relationship. I support it. → @ Jinyoung: This is embarrassing. → @ BamBam1A: So y/n you like me? Wow okay. → @ You: Why? Do you not? It would be a lie if you say no, honey. All know how you look at me. → @ BamBam1A: Fine, I love you Mrs. Bhuwakul. → @ JacksonWang852: Y’ALL ARE DATING NOW??? LMAO I’M SCREAMING

☀️ Yugyeom – "He Thought You Knew"

↳ Text Message

[You]: I just wish someone would like me already. Date's are exhausting!!

[Yugyeom]: What do you mean? I’ve liked you forever.

[You]: …EXCUSE ME???

[Yugyeom]: Wait.

[Yugyeom]: I THOUGHT YOU KNEW.

[You]: SIR, HOW WOULD I HAVE KNOWN??

[Yugyeom]: IDK I THOUGHT IT WAS OBVIOUS??? OMG THIS IS EMBARRASSING.

[You]: NO NO COME BACK, LET’S DISCUSS YOUR LOVE FOR ME.

[velvetydream]

꒰ :🥀 [ Python ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯

Summary : Yougyeom comes home to you blasting their newest song.

Pairing : Yugyeom x fem! Reader

Word count : 0.6K Words

Genre : Fluff

Warnings ➵ Nakedness but non sexual

a/n : Forgot to make this gn! Ahh I hope this is still okay, maybe I'll overwork it someday to be gn!.. TT

Request : @xleeleeboox

┌───────────────────────── ·  ·  ·  · ♡

The day went by so slowly. Yugyeom had told you he wanted to bring you to the celebration of the Winter Heptagon release with the boys, but the meeting and training were taking much longer today. All of the boys, by now, probably very much exhausted and just wanting to go to the dinner and celebrate, finally let loose and enjoy a calm evening of friends.

Speakers were blasting the seven voices of your angelic boys when Yugyeomd's voice came up, making you smile. Getting ready in his big apartment was always nice; he had such a big bathroom, the rain shower making you relax before putting on one of the fluffy matching bathrobes Yugyeom got you two. Before moving on to the mirror, dry your hair before styling it with some products, fluffing your hair up nicely. "Shot through the chest; I was falling for the shooter~" Your voice echoes through the bathroom along to Youngjae's powerful voices.

Moving onto your makeup, you grab your bag from the cabinet, rummaging through it to find the correct products; you would be going for just a light makeup since it was just the boys and some of their significant others eating out and celebrating. Swaying your hips to the song, which us now probably playing for the fifth time already, trying to rap along to Mark and Jacksons parts, but failing miserably. You've probably watched the music video around ten times since it dropped this afternoon, knowing the lyrics by heart already.

"But she got a hold on me like a python~" You sing along, looking up into the mirror again, mascara wand in hand before your eyes lock with certain brown ones, shrieking and swallowing the lyrics at the end, sounding like a dying cat for a second, making the man burst out in laughter behind you. "Yah! How long have you been standing there?!" Turning around, you accusingly wave the mascara wand at your boyfriend, just encouraging his laughing fit, two tears softly running down his cheek from laughing too hard. Pouting softly, you turn back around, mumbling under your breath as you apply the mascara.

"Sorry, sorry! You were just too adorable, dancing and singing our song!" Yugyeoms arms circle around you softly, leaning his head on your shoulder. He looked tired, but his eyes were still full of adoration for you. "I love it when you sing our songs, darling; really, it's so cute to see you dance and sing along.." He presses a soft kiss to your cheek before moving away, starting to undress to take a quick shower. "Your laughing said something different!" You groan, cheeks a soft red from glancing at his broad back before focusing on your makeup again. "That was only because of your reaction lovely!" He grinds as the water hits his body, cascading down his muscles.

"I'll get dressed, don't take too long!" Humming, acknowledging, you move to the room, opening your closet. Looking through the many options, you opt for a simple dress, not too tight, but perfectly short, to pay him back. "You really wanna wear that? Isn't it too short? Last time you wore it, Jackson couldn't take his eyes off you.." Yugyeom pouts, approaching you; turning around to him, you raise an eyebrow. "He complimented it once because he is an ambassador for the brand, and you know that. Don't be dramatic, Yugy.." Jackson, maybe indeed, did look you up and down one too many times that night, but it was just friendly banter and teasing his younger friend, and you knew that.

"Guess I'll just have to make sure you'll stay glued to my side all night today." Pulling you closer by the waist, his bare chest comes in contact with yours. Leaning down to seal his lips with yours in a soft yet passionate kiss, making sure you knew he was serious. Overprotective dummy. "As if you don't always do that, Yugy; let's get dressed before anyone complains that we're too late." He lets out a sigh as he watches you put the dress on before moving over to his side of the wardrobe to get himself dressed.

[thealternateuniverse]

You belong with Me

Bambam x reader

Masterlist

Warnings: Smut(?) if it counts as one

-------

"Y/N, I have a lunch with—"

"JYP, yeah, I already made the reservation. You'll be at the private lounge."

"What about the budget proposals for—"

"Done. Color-coded and on your desk."

"And don’t forget the contract for—"

"Stray Kids? Called Jinyoung. He’s drafting it, but he says you still owe him dinner."

Bambam leans back in his chair, eyeing you with exaggerated suspicion. "Are you secretly reading my mind? Or do you have little spies running around?"

You smirk. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

He exhales, shaking his head. "I swear, if you ever leave, I’m screwed."

"Good thing I enjoy watching you suffer, then."

He chuckles before rubbing his temples. "No, but seriously, I don’t know what I’d do without you."

You mentally pat yourself on the back. Being Bambam’s secretary is a full-time commitment. If you had to describe it, you’re Donna Paulsen, and he’s Harvey Specter. The man doesn’t understand the concept of a break, and keeping up with him isn’t for the weak.

"No problem, Bam. I gotchu."

Just as you turn to head back to your desk, he suddenly remembers something.

"Oh, wait. I think you deserve this."

He lifts a small white envelope, waving it between his fingers.

You narrow your eyes. "What’s that? A bonus? A thank-you note? A restraining order?"

"Trip to Thailand." He grins. "All expenses paid. A whole week. You're welcome."

You blink. "You just said you don’t know what you’d do without me, and now you’re sending me away? Make it make sense."

Bambam leans forward, resting his chin on his hand. "Oh, don’t worry, I’ll suffer. But this way, when you come back, you’ll be well-rested and even more efficient. It’s a win-win."

You cross your arms. "Or… I could just stay there permanently and leave you to drown in your own mess."

He gasps dramatically. "You wouldn’t dare!"

You smirk. "Try me."

He laughs, shaking his head. "Nah, you love me too much to leave."

You roll your eyes, heart skipping a beat, but take the envelope anyway.

You hold up the envelope, inspecting it like it might be a prank. "There’s no catch? No secret work waiting for me in Thailand?"

Bambam smirks. "No catch. Just my way of showing appreciation. And maybe ensuring you don’t quit on me."

You narrow your eyes. "Mm-hmm. That part sounds more like the real reason."

He gasps, placing a hand on his chest. "Wow. Can’t a guy be generous without being accused of ulterior motives?"

You tap the envelope against your palm. "Not when that guy is you."

Bambam chuckles, leaning back in his chair. "Fine, fine. I admit, it’s a little bit of both. But mostly, I figured you deserved a break before you burn out and start plotting my demise."

You pretend to think. "Oh, I started plotting that months ago."

He winks. "And yet, I’m still alive. Must be the charm."

You roll your eyes. "More like my patience. Which, by the way, has a limit."

Bambam tilts his head. "And what happens when you hit that limit?"

You smirk. "Guess we’ll find out when I get back from Thailand."

Bambam dramatically shudders. "Should I be scared?"

"Always."

He laughs, shaking his head. "See? This is why I’m sending you away. You need some beach therapy before you actually murder me."

You sigh, slipping the envelope into your bag. "Fine. I’ll take the trip. But if I come back and find out you’ve made a mess of everything—"

Bambam grins. "Relax, I’ll be on my best behavior."

You snort. "That’s a lie."

He shrugs. "Yeah, but you won’t be here to witness it, so does it really matter?"

You shake your head, turning to leave. "Unbelievable."

Just as you reach the door, Bambam calls after you. "Wait!"

You turn back. "What now?"

He grins. "You’re still working tomorrow, right?"

You let out a dramatic sigh. "See? This is why I don’t trust you."

He chuckles, completely unapologetic. "Hey, just making sure. Enjoy your trip, assistant of the year."

You roll your eyes but can’t hide the small smile on your lips as you walk out.

--------------------

If your feet could talk, they’d be cursing you right now. Your heels felt like medieval torture devices, and your jaw ached from the forced smile you’d been wearing all night. When—please—would this damn party end?

And, of course, your boss was nowhere to be found. You’d spent the last hour weaving through the sea of socialites and champagne flutes, hoping to track him down so you could finally leave. You had a flight to catch tomorrow—destination: Thailand.

Bambam’s family’s annual charity ball was in full swing, a grand, glittering event that you had somehow managed to plan on top of your already impossible workload. And while you’d smiled and nodded through countless conversations, your mind was elsewhere.

You were dreading tomorrow. Not the trip itself—no, that was the one silver lining. You just couldn’t wait to escape for a while. To get away from all of this.

Spotting a familiar face, you grabbed the nearest (and hopefully sober) person. "Gyeom, have you seen your brother?"

Yugyeom blinked at you, swaying slightly. "Oh, he’s probably… somewhere… drunk."

You sighed. "That’s not helpful, Gyeom."

He grinned lazily. "Helpful is overrated. Besides, you know how these things go. Jackson got us all started, and once Jackson gets started—"

"—All of you lose all sense of responsibility. Yeah, yeah, I know."

Yugyeom patted your shoulder with the enthusiasm of someone who no longer had full control of his limbs. "Just… let him be. He’s having fun. You should too!"

You gave him a deadpan look. "I would love to, but unlike you, I actually have to leave in the morning. Flight. Early. Remember?"

He frowned. "Oh, right. You’re ditching us."

"Not ditching. Temporarily escaping before I commit workplace homicide."

Yugyeom laughed. "Fair. But if you’re looking for him, maybe check the balcony? He likes to hide when he’s had too much to drink."

You groaned but nodded. "Thanks, Gyeom. Try not to pass out in a fountain, yeah?"

He grinned. "No promises."

With a sigh, you turned toward the balcony, bracing yourself for whatever state Bambam was in.

You found the others—Jackson, Key, Mingyu, Ten, and Minghao—already deep into the party.

"Y/N… not even tipsy yet?" Jackson greeted, handing you a shot of Hennessy.

You glanced at the glass, debating. You were trying to avoid alcohol tonight—hangovers and early flights don’t mix—but one drink wouldn’t kill you.

"Nope. I’m ditching everyone tomorrow, and I gotta do it sober. Have you seen Bambam?"

"Oh, your boss? Yeah, he’s drunk off his ass. Went to the bathroom a few seconds ago—probably to throw up or negotiate with gravity."

Fantastic. Your feet were already killing you, and now you had to go find him again.

"Great. If he comes back, tell him I already left. And if anything goes missing this week, don’t bother looking for me until my plane lands back here."

The guys exchanged knowing looks, shaking their heads. They were used to your and Bambam’s chaotic boss-secretary dynamic. And you were dead serious about your DND mode.

"Well, enjoy Thailand," Mingyu said. "Just don’t enjoy it so much you forget to come back. Bambam will lose his shit. Hell, he’s probably losing it now."

Mingyu nodded toward the far end of the room. There stood Bambam, trying (and failing) to look composed. His stance wobbled slightly, and his half-lidded eyes gave him away. He was deep in conversation with Sandara Park, probably saying his goodbyes. She looked like she was about to leave.

"And… that’s my cue. Gotta vanish before he fully processes what’s happening."

After bidding the boys farewell, you made your way toward Bambam, who looked about three seconds from face-planting.

"Bam…" you called.

"Y/N!" he slurred, flashing a wide grin.

He excused himself from Sandara and turned toward you—only to stumble. You sighed, already predicting how this night would end.

"Hey, I’m leaving. Flight tomorrow, remember?"

Bambam groaned, pouting dramatically while still gripping his glass of Bombay.

"I regret giving you that damn ticket."

You smirked, arms crossing as you took in his state. His tie was crooked, three buttons undone, and his entire face was flushed red.

"And you should go home before you regret this hangover tomorrow."

Except… judging by the way he was looking at you—half-lidded, unbothered, borderline not comprehending. He didn’t argue. Instead, he placed his glass down on the nearest table. You pulled out your phone to call his driver.

"Come on, let’s walk out of here and at least pretend you’re sober. Your ride’s waiting outside."

Feigning casualness, you clung to his arm, guiding him as he insisted on stopping every few steps to say goodbye to people. By the time you finally reached the car, his legs gave out.

"Oh, for fu—Bambam!" you hissed, barely catching him before he hit the ground.

He was dead weight. Completely out.

"My god. This is not part of my job. Get it together! I haven't even left yet."

With no other option, you climbed into the car, directing his driver to drop your boss to his apartment

In the backseat, he was fully knocked out, snoring lightly.

Just another night dealing with your menace of a boss.

With the help of his driver, you somehow managed to haul Bambam’s deadweight up to his apartment on the 31st floor. By the time you got him through the door without breaking your backs, you were officially over it.

"Oh my god, I can’t wait to go to Thailand," you muttered under your breath as you tucked him into bed.

You should’ve left right then. But instead, you found yourself rummaging through his cabinets, searching for Tylenol or Advil—because knowing him, he’d wake up tomorrow hating his entire existence. You placed the pills and a bottle of water on his bedside table before turning back to him.

"Bam…" you tapped him gently, checking if he was conscious.

His right eye cracked open, barely.

"At least take off your coat and tie," you sighed.

He groaned, rubbing his face before sluggishly sitting up. With his eyes still shut, he half-heartedly peeled off his coat and tugged at his tie. When he finally got them off, he handed them to you—except, at the last second, he let them slip right through his fingers and onto the floor.

You exhaled sharply. "I swear to god, Bambam—"

Before you could finish, he caught your wrist, tugging you toward him. You stumbled slightly, caught off guard.

His grip was loose, but his voice was quiet—almost pleading.

"I wish I could tell you this when I am sober but.......I so badly need you. Don't leave, please?"

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, your pulse thudding so hard you swore your eyeballs were about to pop out of their sockets. What in Merlin's beard was happening to your boss? You mentally noted to check the batch number on that Bombay—maybe it had expired or something.

"Uhh… you technically gave me the ticket," you pointed out, trying to sound casual, even though your insides were screaming.

You carefully tried to slide your arm out of his grip, but instead of letting go, Bambam pulled you closer. His head slumped against your stomach, his warmth seeping through your clothes.

You froze.

Your boss was drunk. You were not. And… what the hell was this?

For a split second, you questioned whether you were the drunk one, but no—your mind was painfully clear. And yet, here he was, clinging to you like you were the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth.

"Right…" he muttered, his voice rough.

You stood there awkwardly, weighing your options. Should you push him off? Knock him out so he could go back to sleep? Pretend this never happened?

"And I need to leave now because I have a flight tomorrow," you said, trying to keep your voice steady. "Don't miss me too much. It's just a week."

The words felt hollow as soon as you said them. You realized, too late, that it probably fed into whatever drunken fantasy Bambam had in his hazy, alcohol-laced mind. You saw his eyes flicker up to you, dark and heavy with something unspoken.

Your stomach did a flip. This wasn’t just some playful drunken nonsense, you thought. The room suddenly felt too small, the air thick with something neither of you could deny.

Bambam lifted his head, the vulnerability in his gaze cutting through the alcohol haze. "You don’t know what it’s like... being around you all the time. I’ve been... Trying to act..... Normal.....But you…mm" His words faltered as he inched closer, his hand now resting on your waist.

Your mind screamed at you to walk away, to snap back into your usual role, to remind him of who you were: his secretary, his subordinate, not someone he could...

But before you could finish that thought, Bambam was pressing his lips to yours. Your body froze at first, but the heat of it, the intensity of the kiss, was too much to ignore.

You could feel the tension snap, like a dam breaking. And despite every single logical reason to pull back, you didn’t. You kissed him back, feeling the desperation in the way his hands gripped your back, as if he were trying to pull you into his soul itself.

His lips were warm, insistent, carrying the weight of something he had been holding back for too long. He wasn’t just drunk; there was intention in the way he pulled you closer, his hands sliding over your waist, fingers pressing into your lower back as if to keep you from disappearing.

You melted against him before you could think twice, your body responding before your mind could catch up.

“Bam…” you whispered against his lips, unsure if it was a plea to stop or to keep going.

But he didn’t stop. His lips traveled down, grazing your jawline before pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses along your neck. Your breath hitched, and your fingers instinctively tangled into his shirt, gripping the fabric as he pulled you flush against him.

“I think I'm going insane,” he murmured against your skin, his voice low, heavy with something deeper than just drunken words. “And you drive me insane, do you know that?”

Your heart pounded as he trailed his hands up your sides, his touch firm yet careful, as if memorizing every inch of you. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the steady rise and fall of his chest against yours.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew this was a bad idea. You knew this would change things. But right now, with his lips claiming yours again, with his hands slipping beneath the hem of your shirt, none of it mattered.

You barely registered him guiding you toward the bed until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the mattress. He sat first, pulling you down with him, his hands never leaving your body. His fingers traced slow, teasing patterns down your spine, sending shivers through you.

“Don't be thinking too much,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

You didn’t get the chance to respond because the next thing you knew, he was flipping the both of you over, pressing you into the mattress with his body caging you in. His eyes, dark and clouded with desire, locked onto yours as he leaned down, his breath fanning against your lips.

Your clothes were suddenly everywhere Scattered across the room in a blur of heat and hands. You weren’t even sure when or how they came off. Maybe you had been too distracted, lost in the feeling of his lips against yours, the way his hands explored your body with an intoxicating mix of urgency and reverence.

Oh my god. He’s your boss.

You’re about to fuck with your boss.

A fleeting moment of hesitation hit you, but then you glanced at him—his dark, hooded eyes watching you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded, his pouty lips swollen from kissing you, his breath uneven.

You made your decision.

"You know what? Hell yeah."

This time, you were the one pulling him down, crashing your lips against his as you worked to remove the last of his clothes.

And damn.

You had seen Bambam in expensive suits, silk shirts, and designer fits, but seeing him like this, bare, raw, unfiltered—was something else entirely.

He was toned, every muscle defined beneath your fingertips, his frame lean yet strong. And his tattoos? You took your time tracing the ink with your fingers, your lips following the patterns across his skin.

Bambam let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating against you as he hovered over you. "Didn’t know you liked my tattoos this much," he teased, though his voice was rough with want.

You met his gaze, smirking as you ran a hand down his chest. "Didn’t know you were hiding all this under your overpriced shirts," you shot back.

His grin widened, but there was something darker, more intense behind it. "Guess we’re both learning new things tonight," he murmured before his lips found yours again, stealing your breath, stealing your thoughts, until all that was left between you was heat and hunger.

And for the rest of the night, nothing else mattered.

----------

Bambam woke up to a pounding headache and a dry throat, his body heavy with the aftermath of too much alcohol. Groaning, he blinked against the morning light filtering through the curtains, his mind still hazy from the night before.

And then—flashes.

Soft lips. Warm hands. His name whispered like a secret.

His eyes snapped open.

What the hell?

Did he… have a wet dream about Y/N? His secretary?

He winced as the throbbing in his head doubled, rubbing his temples as he sat up. His first instinct was to reach for his phone, but instead, his fingers brushed against something on his bedside table—a bottle of water, pain relievers, and a note.

Confused, he picked up the note and read it.

I contacted the restaurant for your recovery food before leaving.

A slow grin crept onto his face despite the headache.

Of course. Y/N.

Always one step ahead, making sure his life didn’t fall apart—even after a night of getting wasted. He popped the meds into his mouth, washing them down with a long gulp of water before finally grabbing his phone.

No messages.

He scrolled. Refreshed. Still nothing.

Huh. So she was serious about the DND mode.

He leaned back against the headboard, staring at the ceiling. This would be the longest time they’d been apart since she started working for him. She was always there scheduling his meetings, handling his messes, reading his moods before he even had to say anything. And now? A whole damn week without her.

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair.

This was his experiment, wasn’t it? Sending her to Thailand to see if he could function without her.

So why did it feel like he was already failing?

And more importantly… why did that dream feel so damn real?

---------------------------------

Thailand was a waking nightmare.

You had to put on your glasses—twice—just to make sure you weren’t hallucinating, you gave up the contacts for now. Every street corner, every billboard, every bus stop, every goddamn souvenir shop… Bambam’s face was everywhere. Smirking, posing, looking effortlessly cool.

It was like sleep paralysis, except you were painfully awake.

Even on vacation, you couldn’t escape him. You practically hid behind your shades and sweats on the way to airport because you were dead tired and slept the whole day on your first day here.

And it wasn’t just his face plastered all over Bangkok that haunted you. No. It was the ghost of that night. The heat of his touch still lingered on your skin, the memory of his lips burned into your mind like a brand. And the worst part? You ran. You got up, got dressed, and bolted from his apartment like your life depended on it, leaving nothing behind but the aftermath of a mistake you weren’t ready to face.

Now here you were, stomping down the bustling streets of Thailand, spiraling.

Using your DND mode as a pathetic excuse not to text or call him about that night.

Of course. It was a one-night stand. No big deal. He probably didn’t even remember it was you.

You groaned, rubbing your temples. How the hell did it come to this?

I mean… okay. Bambam was objectively attractive. He was rich, charming, and effortlessly cool, the kind of man women threw themselves at without a second thought. He was Jackson Wang’s brother, for crying out loud! The whole world wanted him.

But you?

You were his secretary. His friend. His personal damage control. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

“Just what the fuck!” you blurted out, stomping your foot in the middle of the street.

Passersby turned to stare.

You forced an awkward smile before speed-walking away like a lunatic.

This was a disaster. A catastrophe. A career-ending mistake. How the hell were you supposed to look him in the eye after this? How were you supposed to work for him like nothing happened?

You exhaled sharply.

The only solution was to draft your resignation letter the second you got back.

Because there was no way you could survive this.

“Is my brother giving you a hard time?”

Your jaw practically unhinged.

Mark Tuan.

Standing right in front of you, looking effortlessly cool like he owned Thailand.

Why the hell was he everywhere too? Was this some kind of twisted prank?

You let out a deep sigh, pressing your fingers to your temple. “Mark. Seriously?”

He smirked, clearly amused by your suffering. Unlike his usual polished, business-ready look, today he was dressed down, in casual, comfortable, blending in like any other tourist. Almost. There was still something about his presence that screamed power. He might’ve swapped his suit for a hoodie, but he still carried himself like someone who could buy this entire city if he felt like it.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” you said, folding your arms.

“Business,” he answered simply. “Flying out tonight, though.”

You groaned dramatically, looking at him with the kind of silent desperation usually reserved for someone pleading for their life. Forget that he was technically your boss too, he was Bambam’s brother. Which meant he might be the only person right now who could truly understand your current suffering without getting into details.

Mark tilted his head, watching you for a beat before gesturing ahead. “Come on. I know a good restaurant.”

You didn’t argue.

You just followed him, hoping a good meal could somehow fix your life.

-------------- 

Bambam thought he had everything under control.

He figured the week without Y/N would be a welcome change. A chance to prove he could function without her.

But it was turning into a nightmare.

He felt restless, checking his phone every few minutes. He would scroll through messages, emails, but mostly—he’d just open Instagram, scrolling mindlessly, hoping to see one of Y/N’s posts, a story, anything.

Every time he saw something from the temporary secretary filling in for Y/N, it was like an itch he couldn’t scratch. It wasn’t right. They weren’t Y/N.

He found himself disappointed, irritated even, at the way the new assistant didn’t handle things quite the way Y/N did. The calm efficiency. The way she could anticipate his every need before he even voiced it. He missed her presence more than he wanted to admit, and every task, every email, felt... off.

It was a slow, quiet torture.

But there was something deeper gnawing at him. Something that wouldn’t leave his mind.

The memory of that night kept creeping back.

He kept replaying the blurry flashes in his head—the blackouts, the haze, the heat of her skin. At first, he thought it was a vivid dream. But the more he thought about it, the more it didn’t make sense. It couldn’t be real right?

He couldn’t have slept with her?

Y/N was his secretary. His friend. She was off-limits.

But as the days dragged on, he couldn’t shake it. The fragments of the night—her lips on his, the way she felt in his arms, the soft murmur of her voice, the way her name tasted on his tongue. It all felt too real, too intimate to just be some drunken fantasy.

He kept thinking, wondering if he’d made it up in a drunken stupor. Maybe it was just a wild dream that his mind fabricated. But no—there was too much detail. Too much... intensity.

It was bothering him more than he expected.

He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples, frustrated. He wasn’t supposed to be thinking about this. Y/N was supposed to be out of sight, out of mind for the week.

Her absence made everything feel like it was missing its rhythm. Missing its pulse.

Still, every time his phone buzzed with another update from the substitute secretary, or when he walked into his office without her sitting at her desk, his chest tightened. He kept expecting Y/N to just be there, to fill the silence, to make things feel like normal.

Bambam sighed, tossing his phone down on the desk. His mind raced, and for the first time in a long while, he felt... uneasy.

"Fuck this."

He grabbed his coat, adjusting his tie as he prepared to leave his office. He was done, frustrated, and in need of a change. Maybe a flight to Thailand would clear his head. But then—he froze, hand mid-air, suddenly realizing something.

"At least take off your coat and tie," the voice in his head snapped, and for a moment, he cursed himself for not catching it earlier.

“You drive me insane.”

"You know what? Hell yeah."

A chill ran down his spine as he stood there, the realization hitting him like a freight train.

"Oh shit..." The dreams he’d dismissed, the ones that had haunted him for months, were suddenly real.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

He grabbed his phone in a hurry, leaving his office, half-walking, half-running toward the elevator, panic mounting with each step. He needed answers.

When he finally got outside, his driver was already waiting for him. Bambam climbed into the back of the car, still processing the whirlwind of thoughts racing through his head.

"Sir," the driver greeted him, "Mr. Kim, how did I get home after the charity ball?"

Bambam turned his head to look at him, hoping for a shred of clarity. He couldn’t quite remember, and his brothers? Yeah, they were too drunk to even care.

"Uh... Ms. Y/L/N and I brought you home." The driver hesitated, unsure of himself, clearly caught off guard by the question.

"And did you drop her off after?"

The driver shook his head.

"Ms. Y/L/N texted me. She booked an Uber."

"What time was it?"

"It was already 4:30."

"Fuck!"

Everything clicked. The puzzle pieces were finally falling into place, and guilt washed over him like a tidal wave. That explains the no texts or any messages. That explains everything. He hadn’t remembered the night before... how could he not remember?

He had to go to Thailand. Why he needed to see Y/N? To explain? To apologize? Hell, he wasn’t even sure why, he just had to see her.

His phone buzzed, interrupting his thoughts. He checked it, Mark’s story on Instagram. A photo of his secretary—eating, no less. A stolen shot.

The caption:

"You deserve a treat for making everything easy."

Bambam’s blood ran cold.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!"

His heart pounded. Mark was in Thailand? And he was eating with his secretary? With Y/N?!!!

He wanted to scream. Yell. Destroy something. Anything to get the frustration out.

"Mr. Kim, can you bring me to the airport, please?"

His driver nodded, clearly sensing the tension. Bambam didn’t care anymore. He just needed to get there. Even if it means suffering and dreading in economy class. So he booked the earliest flight he can get to Thailand.

Bambam’s plane touched down in Thailand. His heart pounded in his chest. What the hell am I doing? His mind screamed, but his feet moved on their own, carrying him through the crowded terminal.

He had to get it together for being impulsive

He had no idea what he was going to say to Y/N, no clue how to even start the conversation.

"Separation anxiety hit me so hard, I almost wrote you a love letter. Be grateful I just showed up instead."

Or

"Y/N, I was lonely and confused when I got drunk, and then I thought… you could fix that. So, hi!"

But all he knew was that he couldn’t let things be like this. He couldn’t leave things unresolved. Hell, he's still even wearing his office clothes and doesn't have anything but his phone and wallet. 

His thoughts were interrupted by his phone buzzing again.

Mark’s story.

Another picture of Y/N, laughing at something in front of her. The caption read, "Glad I could make this trip easier for you." And there she was, looking... happy. With Mark.

The gnawing feeling inside him tightened.

Why, in the hell, Mark was in Thailand with his secretary. And they are together all night?

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. No more questions. He had to face what had happened—everything.

As he left the airport and entered a cab, his phone buzzed again, this time with a message from .....Y/N... Finally! After 2 days!!

'I'll be sending my resignation.'

Bambam froze, feeling like his world stopped. What the fuck?! 

why does it seems like he couldn't catch a break. 

----

You sighed, staring at your phone after finally sending a text to your boss—for the first time in two days.

Having Mark around made everything feel a little lighter, like a much-needed reset. He wasn’t prying or pushing for answers. He simply asked about work, about him, and you responded with the usual: your daily routine, the way Bambam was a perfectionist to a fault, how insufferable he could be when making decisions.

And then, maybe because the boba tea was too good or because your thoughts had been eating at you for days, you said something incredibly stupid.

"Let’s say, hypothetically, Mark, you have a friend. You two are close. Then you slept together."

Mark choked—actually choked—on his drink, coughing as he wiped his mouth. "Okay? I need the whole context before I die here."

You hesitated, but the words were already out. Might as well commit.

"You’re both drunk. Or, well… one of you is drunk to the point of forgetting. And the other? Sober. The next morning, the drunk one doesn’t remember, and the sober one runs away and pretends it never happened. What would you do?"

Silence.

The moment the question fully registered, you wanted to slap yourself. Why—why—why would you ask Mark of all people? The brother of the guy you slept with.

Mark, to his credit, didn’t look completely suspicious. Just… amused.

"Okay… hypothetically? Nothing."

Your brows furrowed. Not the answer you were expecting.

"You look disappointed." Mark tilted his head, giving you a knowing look. "But really, if I don’t remember, I go about my life as usual. Unless memories hit me like a ton of bricks, then…" He trailed off, as if considering something deeply.

"Then?" you prompted, unable to stop yourself.

Mark smirked, sipping his drink. "Depends. If I find her really attractive… I might continue what we started."

Your mouth went dry.

He chuckled at your reaction. "And if I wasn’t particularly interested… I’d just ghost or pretend it never happened. Simple."

Your lips parted slightly, forming a small "oh."

So, either Bambam doesn’t remember.

Or… he remembers and doesn’t particularly care.

Your stomach twisted at the thought.

"I see," you murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

Mark studied you, his curiosity sharpening. "So… who’s this troubled friend of yours?"

You tensed.

The way he was looking at you—really looking—made you feel exposed, like if you lingered for even a second too long, he’d know. He’d see right through you.

Your phone buzzed.

You glanced down, checking your Instagram notifications—Mark tagged you in his stories.

You tapped it open, only to cringe at the stolen shots he’d posted. Oh my god. Did you really look that horrible when eating?

"Mark, seriously? You could’ve at least picked better photos and captions."

Mark grinned, unbothered. "The more dramatic, the better." He shook his head like it was obvious.

You tilted yours, confused. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

Before he could answer, he glanced at his watch. "Oh, it’s already 4:30 PM. Cinderella’s gotta get back to the hotel."

You rolled your eyes at the nickname for himself but stood up nonetheless. "Well… thanks for today, I guess. Let’s just hope I don’t get flooded with hate DMs from your fans."

Mark smirked. "You won’t. They know better than to mess with the best secretary."

You chuckled, shaking your head. Best secretary, huh? Bambam would never.

Mark sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I won’t be able to walk you back, though. Didn’t realize the time—I have a flight to catch."

Something about the way he said it made you pause. Maybe it was the way he looked at you—like he wanted to say something more but wasn’t going to.

"Oh. Right. Safe flight, then."

You and Mark exchanged goodbyes before you turned and started walking back to your hotel. It was only a fifteen-minute stroll—just enough time to clear your head.

The evening air was thick with humidity, clinging to your skin as you navigated the lively streets of Thailand. Your thoughts drifted back to your conversation with Mark, to his hypothetical answers that felt a little too real.

But the moment you stepped into the hotel lobby, all of that vanished.

Your jaw dropped. "What the—"

Standing near the entrance, dressed in his office clothes, was Bambam.

His tie was loosened, the first few buttons of his dress shirt undone, and he was holding his coat in one hand—probably because of the humid weather. His hair was slightly tousled, as if he’d been running his fingers through it all day. And his eyes—dark, unreadable—locked onto yours the second you walked in.

"Took you long enough." His voice was casual, but there was an edge to it.

You blinked, still processing. "What… what are you doing here?"

He scoffed. "Oh, I don’t know. Maybe chasing my secretary across countries because she conveniently told me she is sending her resignation."

Your stomach flipped.

Oh, shit.

Your jaw remained unhinged, mind racing as you took in the sight of him—standing there, still dressed in his office clothes, not even bothering to change into something travel-friendly.

Bambam was always stylish. Always put together. But right now? He looked… wrecked. Like he had been through hell just to get here.

And then it hit you.

He flew all the way here, in a damn suit, because he thought you were quitting as his secretary.

You exhaled sharply, dropping your gaze before forcing yourself to meet his eyes again. His expression was unreadable, but there was something there—something Longing?

Your throat tightened. But you had already made your decision.

"I quit because I can't work with you anymore."

You braced yourself for his reaction. For the sharp retort, the mocking smirk.

Instead, his jaw clenched.

"If this is about what happened that night, then fuck it—"

He took a step closer.

Your breath caught.

Your eyes widened as he reached for you, his fingers grazing your cheek with an almost possessive touch.

"Two fucking days." His voice was low, heated. "Two fucking days, and I gave you space. But that’s enough. You can quit being my damn secretary, but you’re not running away from me."

Your heart pounded. "But… I thoug—"

"I wasn’t sure if it was real at first." His forehead nearly touched yours now, his warmth seeping into your skin. "I thought you were just serious about your DND mode. But how dare you think I’d pretend it never happened while I was going crazy for the past two days?"

You scoffed, trying to put some distance between you, but he didn’t let you.

"That’s rich, Bambam." You forced a laugh, but it came out weak. "You didn’t even text me. Didn’t even call."

His fingers tightened slightly on your cheek before he pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes. "Because I was trying to respect your damn space."

You swallowed. "And then you just decided to chase me to another country?"

His lips curled into a smirk, but his eyes still burned. "I panicked."

You blinked. "You? Panicked?"

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah. And it fucking sucked."

For the first time, he looked genuinely exhausted. Like he had been running on pure adrenaline just to get here.

"Bam, you—"

"Why did you leave?" He cut you off, voice softer this time. "Was it because you thought I’d just forget about it? That I wouldn’t care?"

You didn’t answer.

Because yes.

And the silence must have been enough of a response, because his expression darkened.

"That’s bullshit." He shook his head, laughing under his breath. "You really think I’d let you go that easily?"

Your stomach flipped. "I didn’t know what else to think."

"Then let me make it clear." He took your hand, pressing it against his chest—right over his racing heartbeat. "I fucking remember. Everything."

Your lips parted, words failing you.

"And I’m not letting you run from me again."

"I…" Your voice trailed off, words failing you as you instinctively tried to pull your hand away.

But he didn’t let go.

Bambam’s grip wasn’t tight—just firm enough to keep you there, as if letting go meant losing you all over again. His exhaustion was evident, his usual sharp gaze softened by jet lag and whatever insanity had driven him to chase you down here.

He sighed, shaking his head. "At least let me hug you. Damn, I missed you."

You swallowed hard before nodding.

The moment his arms wrapped around you, you felt his body relax against yours, his weight pressing into you as if he’d finally let himself breathe.

"Come on. You need to rest." You murmured, patting his back lightly.

Bambam groaned. "Badly. My back hurts from that goddamn economy seat. No legroom, nothing."

Your eyes widened in horror. "Wait—you flew economy?"

He nodded tiredly, rubbing his temple. "Yeah. Worst decision of my life."

You gasped, covering your mouth. "You mean to tell me… you flew all the way here… in economy… with no luggage? Just yourself?"

Bambam blinked at you, deadpan. Then he exhaled dramatically. "Baby… see how down bad I am."

You stared at him, still struggling to process how everything had escalated so fast.

It was one night.

One reckless, alcohol-fueled night.

And suddenly, he was chasing you across the world, sleep-deprived, professing—well, whatever the hell this was.

You didn’t know how things changed so fast, but one thing was certain: you’d figure it out soon enough.

Just… after he got some damn sleep.

----

Bambam jolted awake from his nap, his heart pounding when he realized no one was beside him. Panic set in for a split second—had Y/N left him again? He had dozed off in her hotel room, finally getting some rest after battling jet lag. Earlier, he had bombarded his brother, Mark, with texts, frustrated after waiting four hours in the damn hotel lobby. Mark had enjoyed Y/N’s company a little too much for Bambam’s liking—even posting her on his story just to spite him. And worst of all, it worked.

"You’re awake. You should get more sleep."

Y/N’s voice pulled him from his thoughts as she set down the paper bags she brought—probably food.

"I thought you left me again."

He caught the way her smile faltered.

"You should eat first, Bam."

Bambam sighed, running a hand through his hair as he sat up, still groggy from sleep. His heart hadn’t quite settled yet. The panic from waking up alone still lingered in his chest.

"Bam?" Y/N repeated, her voice softer this time as she unpacked the food, carefully avoiding his gaze.

He didn’t argue. Taking the food, he quietly started his meal while Y/N sat across from him, absentmindedly poking at her dessert as she watched him. The silence between them was thick—almost expectant.

As soon as he finished, he wiped his mouth and leaned back. "You can start asking."

Y/N blinked, momentarily caught off guard. She hadn't expected him to cut straight to the chase. Scrambling to gather her thoughts, she hesitated, searching for the right words.

"Why?"

She looked at him, confusion evident in her eyes, waiting—expecting an answer.

Why?

That same question had been running through his mind the entire way here. When did it even start? He wasn’t sure. Had he just grown too dependent on her as his secretary, mistaking it for something more? Or had there been affection all along—buried beneath layers of denial—conveniently masked as a simple boss-secretary relationship?

Bambam exhaled, his fingers absentmindedly tapping against the table as he struggled to piece together his own emotions.

"You know, I used to think I just needed you. That’s it. You had my back, you knew exactly what I wanted before I even said a word—hell, sometimes before I even thought of it. I figured that’s what made you so damn important to me. You were dependable, irreplaceable, my right hand. But… turns out, I’m an idiot."

Bambam chuckled, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his hair. His gaze flickered to you, lingering like he was seeing you for the first time—or maybe, just finally admitting what had been in front of him all along.

"Because needing you? That’s the bare minimum of what I feel."

"I love watching you work, you know? The way your brows furrow when you’re deep in something—concentrated, unbothered by the chaos I bring. How you line up everything I need like clockwork, like it’s second nature to you. How you remember my coffee order down to the last damn detail, and somehow, it always tastes better when it’s from you."

"And it’s not just that. It’s how good you look when you’re serious—like you belong right next to me, running this whole damn empire together. How perfect we are together, wherever we go. How your eyes light up over the smallest things—ice cream, desserts—even after back-to-back meetings that should have drained the life out of you. How you love seafood. How you only accept real carbonara, not that cream-drenched imposter dish."

"How you wince when a trainee messes up, like you feel secondhand embarrassment. How you laugh at my jokes—like, genuinely laugh—not just because I’m the boss, but because you actually enjoy my stupid humor."

"And then there was last night. That charity ball. That dress. You looked… ethereal. Like some untouchable goddess. Too bad I got drunk, huh? Too bad I was too much of a coward to admit all this before we ended up in… whatever the hell this situation is now."

He stepped closer, voice quieter but firm, his usual confidence laced with something deeper.

"It's shitty that it had to happen before I figured it out together but I don't regret it. And I know one thing for sure. I don’t just need you, Y/N. I want you. All of you. Every little thing about you that makes you you. And if I’ve already messed this up, well… tell me now. Otherwise, I’m not letting you go. Not now. Not ever."

[multiphandomunnies]

got7

reactions

girlfriend hugging them in their sleep

deserted island au

high school au

gf is a demon

s.o is shy with skinship

s.o is self conscious

imagines

mark

jackson

thank you

bf! jackson

trying again

single dad au

jaebum

it’s not too late

get over here

not now (*M*)

carnation

bf! jaebum

christmas special

i want to do these things with you

jinyoung

youngjae

bambam

christmas special

yugyeom

bf! yugyeom

let’s go out

[clariannahoney]

Kpop Daddy's Squirting Obsession

Yugyeom's eyes fluttered open to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. He turned to find Controlled Rida still nestled in his arms, her breathing slow and steady. A soft smile played on his lips as he gently extricated himself from her embrace, careful not to wake her.

Padding silently to the bathroom, Yugyeom splashed cold water on his face, the chill invigorating his senses. Today was about progress, about pushing her limits and exploring the depths of her submission. His cock twitched at the thought, eager for the challenge.

Returning to the bedroom, he found Rida stirring, her eyes blinking open to meet his. "Good morning, Daddy," she murmured, a sleepy smile gracing her lips.

"Morning, baby," he replied, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Time to start your training."

Her smile faded slightly, replaced by a mix of excitement and nervousness. "What are we working on today?"

Yugyeom leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Your squirting abilities. I want to see how far we can push you."

Rida's breath hitched, her body responding instinctively to his words. "I... I don't know if I can do it again so soon," she confessed, her voice trembling.

"That's why it's called training," he teased, his fingers trailing down her arm. "I'll be right here to guide you every step of the way."

He watched as she swallowed hard, her resolve strengthening under his gaze. "Okay, Daddy. Let's do this."

Yugyeom nodded, his expression serious. "First, I need you to relax. Deep breaths, in and out."

Rida followed his instructions, her breathing deepening as she focused on the rhythm. Yugyeom moved behind her, his hands gentle yet firm as he massaged her shoulders, easing the tension from her muscles.

"Good girl," he praised, his lips brushing against her ear. "Now, let's move to the floor."

He helped her stand, guiding her to the plush rug near the bed. Kneeling before her, he looked up, his eyes locking with hers. "Spread your legs for me, baby."

Rida hesitated for a moment, then obeyed, her thighs parting to reveal her glistening core. Yugyeom's mouth watered at the sight, his desire rising like a tide.

"Beautiful," he murmured, his hands cupping her hips. "Now, close your eyes and focus on my touch."

She did as he asked, her eyelids fluttering shut as she surrendered herself to his guidance. Yugyeom leaned in, his tongue darting out to taste her essence, the flavor sweet and tangy on his palate.

Rida gasped, her body arching towards him as his tongue delved deeper, exploring every fold and crevice. "Daddy," she whimpered, her hands gripping his hair.

"Shh, just feel," he instructed, his tongue swirling around her clit, teasing and tormenting the sensitive nub. Her moans filled the room, each sound fueling his arousal.

He changed tactics, his fingers joining the dance, one sliding inside her wet heat while the other circled her clit. Rida's body trembled, her breaths coming in short, sharp gasps.

"You're doing so well," he encouraged, his voice thick with desire. "Let it build, baby. Let it all build."

Her response was a strangled cry, her body tensing as the pressure within her grew unbearable. Yugyeom felt her walls clenching around his finger, the precursor to her release.

"That's it, come for me," he ordered, his tongue flicking faster, his fingers moving in unison. "Show Daddy what you can do."

With a scream that echoed off the walls, Rida shattered, her body convulsing as jets of liquid sprayed forth, coating Yugyeom's face and chest. He drank in the sight, his own orgasm crashing through him as he continued to pleasure her, prolonging her climax.

When at last she lay spent, her body quivering with aftershocks, Yugyeom pulled her into his arms, his voice raw with emotion. "You were incredible, baby. Absolutely incredible."

Rida smiled weakly, her eyes heavy with exhaustion. "Thank you, Daddy. For pushing me."

"Always," he promised, kissing her forehead. "Now rest, my love. We have all day to explore more."

As she drifted off to sleep, Yugyeom's mind raced with possibilities, each one more thrilling than the last. This was just the beginning, he knew. There was so much more they could discover together.

[liacontilde]

Kim Yugyeom in my dreams pt.2

Yugyeom and I were walking down the street together. It was a kind of landscaped and quite green park where there were not too many people. The weather felt cool, the sky was whitish, and the sun was shining slightly through the clouds. Even so, you could sense spring or a summer morning, since we were wearing short sleeves. He was walking a little behind me, but at one point, he put his arm around my shoulders and kept walking and laughing with me. However, the feeling of his arm crossing my back, made me feel a little tingling and a certain sensation of comfort. It's funny, whenever I dream about Yugyeom, it's not clear what kind of relationship we have. It never seems like we're a couple, but the sexual tension is in the air. Friends with benefits I guess. As we walked, the connection between us became more intense. I put my hand around his waist and then he took my only free hand. We were completely intertwined. Despite everything, I was still a little ahead, so I could feel his pectoral (which felt very strong) in the upper part of my back. Yugyeom felt very affectionate and funny and we had a great time, so he started joking when he noticed that for a second, I leaned on his chest and then turned my gaze a little to see the magnificence of his pecs. He then started pulling his shirt up higher and higher while I laughed and told him to stop (obviously wishing he would actually take it all off). However, this whole situation was interrupted by the sudden presence of my grandmother, who had a board game box in her hand and was asking Yugyeom very concerned how to play it. Yugyeom kindly went to explain the rules to her and at that moment I woke up.

[cherryeol04]

The Forest

➻ Pairings: Yugyeom-Centric

➻ Genre: Fantasy au

➻ Additional: Sailor Moon inspired

➻ Word Count: 1.5K

➻ Warnings: N/A

➻ Author’s notes: This story is cross posted on multiple sites under the same username!

The clouds were extra dark that day and it was the first thing Yugyeom noticed when stepped outside. The air was a bit nippy and the wind was a constant and steady flow. Snow was being forecasted, which dampened Yugyeom’s normally happy mood, considering the fact that his parent’s livelihood depended on good weather. Winter was always a hard time for them for the simple fact that their crops didn’t grow. And it was Yugyeom’s job to obtain not only crops for them to grow and harvest during the winter months, but to also gather food to keep them alive through those four to five months. 

But Yugyeom absolutely despised winter and the resounding cold that came with it. The snow was absolutely beautiful, but the temperature was the worst. Yugyeom preferred to have himself wrapped up in his blankets, sitting by a warm fire while his parents chatted about everything and nothing at the same time. With a light huff, Yugyeom walked down the few steps that lead to their front door and walked down the small path to his bike that was parked nicely under one of their large oak trees. 

Grabbing the handlebars, he used his foot to lift the kickstand up and started wheeling it to the gate. Once out on the street, Yugyeom mounted his bike and started pedaling. His first stop was Farmer Kim, who lived about a mile down the road. It was a bit of a trek, but in the small little town that he lived in, most of the people lived pretty far from each other, except for maybe the select few that lived closer to the city center.  Farmer Kim knew all the crops that they could grow in any season and helped Yugyeom a lot when gathering food. He was such a trusted friend that he was treated like family from time to time and Yugyeom was eager to find out what he would be getting for this season.

He arrived around twenty to thirty minutes later and Farmer Kim was standing by his fence, a bright smile on his elderly face that warmed Yugyeom’s heart at the sight. Putting on the brakes, he slowed himself down and stopped next to the fence gate and flashed his own smile to Farmer Kim.

“Good morning!”

“Morning! It’s a bit nippy out today, don’t you think?” the farmer asked and Yugyeom nodded with a smile. “Seems like a storm is right on the horizon. It’s gonna be a cold winter this season.” he mused as he tilted his head up towards the sky, staring at the clouds that were rolling in slowly.

“Seems so. All the more reason to be fast today! Where should I go?” he asked, cocking his head as he stared at the older male with slight concern. Farmer Kim continued to stare at the sky a while longer, unmoving as he seemed to be studying the sky or something similar to that. When the male looked down, he gave Yugyeom a blank stare, yet his eyes were so stern. The intensity in Farmer Kim’s eyes actually sent a shiver down Yugyeom’s spine. The silence that spanned between them was almost deafening and when Farmer Kim moved to reach out towards him, Yugyeom flinched ever so slightly away but remained still. Shaky hands touched the scarf that was wrapped around Yugyeom’s neck, fiddling with the soft, woven material lightly and fixing it. 

“Today, I think you should go into the forest.”

“The forest?” Yugyeom echoed, his eyes moving to the treeline that backed up right against the back of Farmer Kim’s property. The forest had always given Yugyeom a sense of dread and almost terror. He never dared to go in there and usually he never did. But today, for some reason, Farmer Kim wanted him to go in there. And Yugyeom would be lying if he said he wasn’t a tiny bit scared. “Why?”

“Well, there was a new fruit I discovered there that grows in the winter time. Harvest a few for your family to eat as well as to plant the seeds and grow.” 

Well, that sounded reasonable.

“How do I get there?” Yugyeom asked with his head cocked to the side as he stared at Farmer Kim. Farmer Kim stared at Yugyeom for a few moments, eyes looking glazed as if he were lost in thought. “Just go into the woods. Straight down. You’ll find it.” he said. So vague, but also very direct. Nodding his head, he smiled softly and gave a light thank you. With a wave of the hand, he started pedaling towards the dirt road that led to the forest. He was eager to find the fruit to get for his family. The prospect of a new type of harvest was the only thing that drove him further into the forest, despite how dark it was there. 

The trees towered high, curved and crossing to create a canopy of sorts that blocked out the sun. Though the sun wasn’t really out as it was, with the gloomy, snowy weather rolling in rather fast. It was a little rocky on the trail, and with each bump that Yugyeom went over, a small grunt left him as the scarf around his neck started to loosen. Reaching up, he tried to adjust it, securing it back around, but it didn’t hold up as he ran over a few more bumps in the form of rocks. 

With one particularly hard bump, followed by a nearly perfectly timed gust of wind, his scarf fell loose and whipped about his neck before taking flight into the air. “No!” he gasped out, one hand swiping at the air to try and grab for the garment, yet missing each time. He watched with widened eyes as the scarf was carried through the branches, gust after gust keeping it high in the air, flying it almost like a kite. He followed as fast as he could on his bike, legs pedaling as fast as he could muster.

Time seemed to pass so quickly, but at the same time, it was so slow. Yugyeom was panting by the time he found the clearing, eyes locked on the scarf. He watched as the scarf floated down gently from the sky, eyes tracking every motion as he landed on top of a structure. Yugyeom pulled to a stop as he tried to understand exactly what he was seeing. It looked like it was made from crystals, pointing edges sticking up in different areas, but still keeping a structure that was almost like a coffin. It was unnerving but intriguing. Dismounting his bike, he brought down the kickstand and made sure his bike was steady before leaving it. 

With gentle and slow steps, he walked towards the structure, cautious of what was around him. The closer he got, the more he could make out the individual crystals that crossed, bent and bowed to form almost like a case. He was inches away, and quickly he grabbed his scarf, clutching it to his body. Now closer, he could definitely see it was definitely a coffin-like structure. The bottom half was made out of wood, dark in color and the upper half was a clear top and surrounding it was crystals. And while the structure itself was interesting, it was what was inside that caught Yugyeom’s interest.

It was a body. A male body. A very handsome male body. His hair was long, black and wavy. His features were soft, yet his jawline was very much chiseled and sharp. The clothes he was wearing were very formal and almost looked royal. A black suit adorned with golden buttons and cufflinks. His arms were folded neatly over his chest, hands clasped together as he laid there motionless.

Was he dead?

It looked like it and Yugyeom was really shook to his core. He had never seen a dead body before and it was actually a lot less scary than he thought it would be. He was drawn in, strangely enough. Like in a trance, he couldn’t pull himself away from staring at the body. His mind raced with thoughts about who this guy was, where he came from and why he was in this crystalline coffin. Yet, all thoughts were quickly vanquished when the male’s eyes suddenly opened, locking with Yugyeom’s almost instantly.

Stumbling back, Yugyeom grasped at his chest, heart pounding as he stared at the coffin. A hand rose, pressing against the glass and the terror rose within him. He turned, scrambling back towards his bicycle, kicking up dirt as he went. He grabbed the handlebars and struggled to get the kickstand up, kicking the wheels a few times in the process. He managed to get the kickstand up and he threw his leg over the seat and started pedaling. The bicycle wobbled, teetering dangerously to the left, yet he managed to keep it upright as he rode away as fast as he could.

He didn’t know who the guy was or if he was alive or dead and now a zombie. But the one thing he knew, he wasn’t about to stay long enough to get the answers to those questions. He peddled back home as his life depended on it, vowing to never set foot in that forest again.

[onewmin]

the perfume on the shelf. pt. 3 | bangchan

Pairings: Bang Chan x Fem!reader, Kim Yugyeom x Fem!reader (surprise lmao)

Summary: Falling in love with your best friend was never a part of the plan. So you end it up. But does he want to put a stop to it, too?

Warnings: AU, descriptions of blood and gore, profanity, mental issues, injury descriptions, angst, clichés (I’m a fan of them), typos, the reader’s confused about everything. Flashbacks in forms of memories, a flashback in a form of a dream

Author’s note: the longest part so far!! I had planned to put a lot of things in this one, so here you go. If you came here to read a simple story of two friends falling in love - sorry, not gonna happen lmao. All plot twists have been planned beforehand lol. More important characters are introduced in this part too. Hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!!

Disclaimer: the names and appearances of real people are used for inspiration and writing purposes only. I do not claim anything, everything belongs to its owners.

Part 2 | Part 4

Unlike every other guy you dated, your first love was the one who broke your heart.

It wasn’t cheating, toxicity or lack of closure — it was you two growing up. Dating since the senior year at school, you had lasted for almost four years, being together at college too. You remembered the first time he and Chan met; what really got engraved into your memory was him tensing up immediately while shaking Chan’s hand.

“Don’t be an ass”, he ran the hand through his hair — a habit of his when he was annoyed.

“I’m not”, he cupped your face and forced you to hold an eye contact. “I just don’t trust this guy”.

“Maybe you’re just jealous?”, he let out an exhausted sigh in response. “Yugyeom. Be honest”.

“Want me to be honest? ‘kay. He didn’t look at you like, uh, you look at friends. Y’know?”

You glanced and him, noticing a glimpse of something you’d never seen, something… You had no idea what it was, although, it would have been wrong if you said you didn’t like extra attention Yugyeom was giving you after that encounter with Chan.

Putting his hands on your waist, you took a step closer — it hadn’t been your first time, but it never ceased to give you butterflies how Yugyeom’s eyes always darted from your lips to your eyes whenever you got closer. Standing on the tiptoes, you gave him a wet, slobbery even, smooch on the lips, that always got him taken aback. In a gross way, of course.

“Ew”, the usual response. “You’re disgusting”.

“But you still love me, right?”, you put your arms around his waist, hands landing on the small of his back. Taking his nodding as an affirmation, your head was on his shoulder. “There’s nothing between me and Chan. We’re just friends. D’you really think I would be hanging out with someone who’d be, like, flirting with me or something?”

Yugyeom sighed again. “No”, his embrace on you tightened. “I know you wouldn’t. It’s not you I don’t trust”.

“Okay, let’s have a deal”, you raised your head to look at him. “If he ever does something… Some shit that you’re talking about, I’ll block him everywhere”.

“In real life too?”, a soft smile on his lips made the corners of your mouth quirk up too.

“Everywhere. And I’ll tell you immediately. Deal?”

“Deal”.

“Great”, having smacked his butt with extra ferocity — watching him hiss as if he hadn’t been used to it — you stood up straight. “Let’s go”, you offered your arm to him; Yugyeom gladly followed your command, giving you a quick kiss on the temple. At that moment you were confident him and you would be endgame.

But the high school friend and sweetheart, the boy you were going to follow to the end of the world… Some months after that conversation, just after you turned twenty-one, he got a chance at the Ivy League university and left. And then you grew apart. Just like that, the name of the love of your life (or so you thought) was erased from your stories, and never replaced. But that’s something you wouldn’t tell anyone, not even your therapist.

You’d get into the details before the breakup: how you two dated, how he got an opportunity to be an exchange student, how excited he was to be able to stay there; his rare homecomings, your gut screaming about the two of you facing the cliff’s edge. But the jump itself? The way it made you feel? And how you had been filling the void Yugyeom left with all those narcissistic assholes? No, never. You’d rather talk about another toxic guy you’d been seeing than spill the beans about Yugyeom. He was blocked, not Chan; the latter wasn’t even close to the blacklist of your life.

However, probably, not for long.

He didn’t respond to your texts; so you thought he’d understood and let you go. Cut you off, the way you asked him to. Though, it hadn’t made it much easier for you; him not responding got you overthinking every little thing he had ever done.

That was the way the emotionally abusive men would treat you: cut you off after confessions, brag about girls they flirted with while dating you. Chan wasn’t like them, was he? He wasn’t. He wasn’t. You rejecting the possibility of him being a total asshole seemed like a way to give excuses.

Were you projecting again? Or did the rose-colored glasses just fell off when you decided to look the other way?

A breathy sigh left your mouth. Closing your eyes, you put the whole weight of your body into your hands, which were now pressing onto the printer. It wasn’t exactly your way to calm down, but crying in the office wasn’t the best option either. You’d wait till the evening, you’d wait till home and your cat. You’d lie down on the floor, next to her bowl of food, and sob while petting the girl, who’s be loudly chewing her food. Not your first time crying like that, so she’s used to it.

Having done thirteen copies, the printer “beeped”, dragging you out of the never-ending flow of thoughts. Not the job you dreamt of, to work from nine to five and to always be buried under the piles of documents.

Unlike you, Chan didn’t give up on his dream, you proceeded with the reminiscence of the past, unlike you he became what he had always wanted. What was the point in listening about your talent for writing if you quit it the moment the first publishing company rejected you?

Chan didn’t refuse his passion; he kept on working, having his bones and heart broken, losing friends and lovers. In the end, that’s where he was: on a pedestal, with his music and new, loyal friends. You were there too; in comparison with people, who surrounded him, you were standing in the corner, fingers interlocked with so much pressure your hands were turning red; eyes never on the main man, but always glued to the floor. Sometimes it seemed as if you had enjoyed not fitting into many friend groups you were apart of in the life — however, the reality was different.

“Talking to people is hard”, you told your therapist. “It takes every bit of energy from me to, like, start a conversation. It’s like, I feel like an idiot. And I think they also think I’m an idiot, y’know?”

“And why, share with me, please, why would they think you’re an idiot?”

“‘Cause… that’s what I’m scared of? That people will think of me as a constant embarrassment?”

Two years of therapy, and yet still, you were there — right where you left your true self. You wondered, especially recently, who you were in reality. With no coping mechanisms in forms of self-destructive jokes, escapism and avoidance. Who were you?

You had asked the question too often, and it all started several months ago, when you found yourself expressing nothing over the a mistake in the report instead of humoring yourself in another self-depreciative joke. Your boss even asked if you were alright; everyone was used to you joking, always and every time, about everything.

“Do you understand why you didn’t joke?”

“Maybe ‘cause I don’t know if that’s what the real me would do”.

This shit? Deep, your therapist admitted. However, the path to find that real persona of yours was full of thorns and pits, and you felt at a loss. The situationship with Chan didn’t help, it only added more questions. And you were prone to leave them all unanswered.

However, last night you’d made the right choice. Or so you thought.

The clock got to ten A.M, and you were staring into the screen of your computer, not having a single thought about numbers in your head. Another report to be done by tomorrow morning. Although, how could you finish some stupid report when Chan didn’t even care to respond? No “Ok”, no “Got you”, nothing. What an ass.

“Are you alright?” Eunjoo peeked from her computer (her desk was joined to yours, so she had always been right in front of you).

You nodded. “Yeah. Just couldn’t sleep at night”, you rubbed your eyes, feeling the typical intense stare from your friend.

“Your eyes look red. Mine usually appear to be like this when I cry a lot. Did you cry?”

Appear to be like this, girl, why do you always have to talk in full forms and elevated language? Especially at 10 in the morning?

“D’you want me to lie or to tell the truth?”

“Truth, always”.

Before you could open your mouth, the manager walked in the office you were sharing with the others; Eunjoo and you both started working too effectively, the sound of your nails, clacking the keys of the keyboard filling in the room. Five minutes later he was gone.

“So?” Eunjoo wasn’t the one to forget easily, you learned it the hard way.

You sighed. “I had a food poisoning of some sort. Spent half the night on the toilet”.

It wasn’t exactly a lie: you did have a poisoning — though it wasn’t food, but Chan. You got poisoned by his smell, his silky lies and gentle touches; he was the villain of the story, who found the easiest way to kill the person he had no use of anymore.

And so he got you addicted to him leaving pecks all over your face, tickling you, so that he could stop abruptly to cup your face. His poison was in the love, that lacked in being in love, in true, required feelings. So he gave you that poison in a form of everything you wanted; and you gladly took it, holding onto the hope of him falling in love with you.

It never happened. And you couldn’t wait any longer — nothing would have changed. You’d still be his friend, his fling, his situationship. And he? The first guy after Yugyeom who treated you right, the first guy in years, he was unreachable, so close, and yet so far from you. His head in the clouds, thinking, dreaming of her, the girl who had broken him in so many pieces, you weren’t sure it was able to collect what was left of his once big and open heart.

“You should go and see that doctor I’ve told you about”, Eunjoo was quick to proceed with another lecture. “And also, stop eating junk food. Your digestive system will be thankful”.

“Yeah, of course, mom”, you mumbled and got back to the Excel file, to the thoughts in your head distracting you from the work you were supposed to finish.

Your phone started buzzing randomly, as if it was reflecting the caller’s personality in details.

“What’s up, Minho? I’m at work”, you answered quietly, turning your head left and right to watch out for your boss.

“Chan’s at the hospital. Car accident. Come here now”, the call ended, and several seconds later the message with the hospital’s address was delivered to your phone.

Your phone was still glued to your ear, that same Excel file opened on the screen. Only the numbers were becoming blurry, as if you had taken off your glasses, and the clacking of keyboards, exhausted huffs and Eunjoo’s lecturing was replaced by a ringing in your ears. You remembered wiping wet cheeks, rubbing your eyes and standing up — it all seemed to be in slow motion.

“Eunjoo, I have to go to the hospital, Chan got into a car accident. Tell Mr. Kim, please”.

Taking your bag in your hands, seeing Eunjoo opening and closing her mouth, but not hearing her or anyone else’s words, you marched to the elevator. The eyes didn’t well up anymore, hands weren’t shaking. You spent the elevator and the taxi ride, keeping your composure. Politely speaking to the driver, you asked him questions and answered his.

At one point, it seemed as if nothing had happened — Lee Know hadn’t called you, you hadn’t received any news. Nothing. If there was something you were great at, that would be suppressing your emotions to the point where you couldn’t feel anything, no matter how much you wanted to.

Slamming the taxi door, your hand flew to your chest, grabbing skin at the left side. A strange tingling within, somewhere inside your ribs. You took a deep breath, telling yourself it’s nothing, gaslighting yourself yet again.

Every step to the hospital echoed in your ears, as if you’d been a titan walking among humans, a step of yours destroying buildings and killing people. Everyone stared — or so it seemed.

Minho’s face was the first thing you noticed after entering; he was there, at the entrance, stomping his feet and glancing at his watch. And what you’d never expected from him was a tight hug he put you in.

“I’m glad you here”, his voice was quiet, calm even — but underneath that tranquility you caught a slight crack. “His parents are on their way. They were traveling, y’know”. He let out a chuckle, and stood next to you, hands on his hips.

Minho was saying something else, you couldn’t really catch what; instead, you observed him. The way he stood there, his confidence and pride slowly washing away by this wave of anxious foot stomping and nail biting. Minho didn’t look anywhere but at the floor — and that was the first time you watched him to be like this: almost broken, nervous, scared.

“What happened?”

Apparently, you interrupted Lee Know’s non-stop blabbering; he glanced at you and gulped, nodding to some thoughts in his head.

“Th-The taxi driver, uh… He was overtaking the traffic, y’know, how they usually do”. A deep breath taken by him. “They were on a highway, uh, and he, uh — I mean, the driver — didn’t see a deer on the road.”

Minho ran his hand through the hair. “So, uh, he, the driver, had to… Maneuver? I’m not sure”, he chuckled nervously. “I didn’t really catch what the police officer was telling me. Feels like my head’s going to explode”.

You took him by the hand and led him to the chairs in the waiting room. Minho’s leg was bouncing uncontrollably, his left palm covering his face. And you were there, holding his hand, and being that calm friend, the one who never lost composure.

“He was coming to see you”.

Ah, shit. The powerful figure of composure, that was holding all of your emotions hostage, felt a stab in the back. It was a small injury, which couldn’t really shake the composure off; but the cut was slightly bleeding.

“What?”. A breathy sigh left your mouth — the bottled up emotions had reached your throat.

“He called me”, Minho leaned back in his chair, and you got involved in an intense eye contact. “Asked me if he was in love with you. As if I’m his personal advisor or whatever”.

“I told him that he was. And he promised to be late, so I assumed he was coming to see you”.

Another stab in the back, in the same exact spot. And then another. The Composure fell to the ground, almost breathless, still having a slight grip on the Fear. And in the next second, the Composure’s hand was cut off, swiftly and violently. The Composure fell into a million pieces, above her, with a bloody sword and watery eyes, was towering the Guilt herself.

“What?” Your breathing fastened, and your lungs seemed to be empty the moment you let another word fall from your mouth. No biting inside of the cheeks, no breathing techniques, no fists clenching helped anymore; your glasses suddenly got fogged up and your hot breath was mixing up with tears, falling on the hem of your shirt. “What?”

It was the last thing you said before Minho hugged your shaking body, letting you wet his shoulder, and muffle cries in the crook of his neck. You were never close; Chan used to nag how he hated that you and Lee Know, his best friends, weren’t close to one another. But in that moment, sobbing in each other’s arms, you were closer than ever.

They told you Chan had a severe concussion and a broken rib.

“In other words, he’s lucky not to get any more injures”, the doctor had told you and Minho. Chan’s parents were flying from Argentina, where they went to celebrate their 30th wedding anniversary, so they wouldn’t show up in the next several hours. The two of you were by yourselves, sitting outside the intensive care, where he was still kept in. He was unconscious, but was becoming stable as the time progressed; the doctor reassured that he’s be put in a regular hospital room by tomorrow morning, if his condition got better at night.

Three cups of coffee from the local machine for you, and four for Minho. The two of you didn’t utter a word in the last few hours; however, you didn’t need to. You found each other’s presence comforting, and the silence wasn’t awkward — it was supportive in some way. You brought snacks, remembering how Chan mentioned Lee Know loving cheese flavored chips; and he bought you a latte, also learning from Chan it was your favourite coffee. It never ceased to amaze how Chris memorized every little detail about the people he loved; and now, sitting there, scrolling the news absent-mindedly, you knew, finally knew that he loved you too. But did it really matter now? No. The only thing that you cared about was him to wake up and be okay. Your feelings, your love had been waiting for half a year, they would be able to wait one more day.

Chan’s manager was there too: he was marching from one corner of the hall to another, declining calls and responding to some of them, just to scream at the reporters through the phone and aggressively sip on his coffee.

“Han, cut it off”, Minho almost moaned, after another series of loud stomps from Jisung. “Go home and wait for my call”.

“Go home?” Jisung narrowed his eyes. “And do what, exactly? Sit down and watch TV?”.

An exasperated sigh left Lee Know’s mouth. “I dunno. Anything. You’re only being annoying here”.

“Minho”. You said quietly. They both had a temper, throwing tantrums like toddlers wasn’t an unusual occasion for them. But not in the hospital, not while Chan was here.

“Alright”, Han sat down; slapping his knees, he leaned back and closed his eyes. “I’ll be quiet until I get another call from those vultures”.

“So, you’ll be quiet for three seconds?”

“Shut the hell up, Minho”.

Sandwiched between two similar, dominating personalities, you felt the atmosphere shift, from the irritation to quietness once again. The idea of Minho and Jisung shutting their mouths even for three seconds seemed to be the best one so far.

You followed Han’s example and leaned back, feeling the coldness of the wall through you shirt. Eunjoo had been texting every hour, checking on you and the situation, and even used a contraction once. You gave a half smile after receiving the message — to use informal grammatical forms was unacceptable for Eunjoo; that’s how you knew: she was worried too. Yeah, everyone was.

Closing your eyes, you heard Minho sigh and mumble something; he was probably cursing at the news on the net, where every “celebrity source” had been delivering information about Chan. Most of it was fake, because the press didn’t know anything but the fact of the accident. You also wanted to be famous once; however, now you were glad you weren’t.

You didn’t even notice how the heavy weight of the day started lifting from your shoulders, dozing you off. You didn’t realize how long you were asleep, but you were dreaming the entire time.

“Doesn’t it seem weird to you?” Chan asked, chewing on another strawberry from the bowl.

“What exactly?” You were exhausted because of the heat; lying on the couch in his family’s country house, a fan blowing directly at you, you only wished to be put in an ice bath.

“That you don’t feel anything”, he leaned back to the couch, head turned to face you. “This is what you’re saying all the time, isn’t it?”

“Dunno what you’re talking about”, you muttered, breaking off the eye contact.

“You do”, he stood up from the floor and flopped on the couch — precisely on your legs. You groaned and tried to set yourself free, but he didn’t even move a muscle.

“Get off!”

“Not until you tell me the truth”.

“What ‘truth’ d’you wanna know?”

“Why do you pretend to be heartless?” His question hit right home, right where your therapist had hit you thousand times already.

It was difficult to appear a heartless bitch to Chan, he saw right through you. And if you told him now… That would be a good way to start opening up, your therapist would admit it as progress. But could you really open up? Could you let him peek through your walls, the ones you had put long time ago to protect yourself from pain? Could you let him know everything so that he’d be able to hurt you?

Could you let yourself be vulnerable in front of your best friend?

“It’s easier”, you shrugged your shoulders. “Helps me live in this world”.

“You never told me why it’s easier”.

“There’s no reason”.

“Really? Your dad isn’t a reason either?”

“Why are you asking me all these weird questions, Chan?”

He let out an exhausted sigh. “Because I care about you, tiger. And I’m worried ‘cause you never share. I wanna help you, if you ever need me to”.

“Thanks. But I’m okay. No need to worry”.

He never asked again. You never brought it up. You had no clue he hadn’t accepted your answer, he was just waiting. Waiting till you came to him, tugged at his sleeve and let him take your pain and worries away by listening and being there, by letting you know that he wanted to hear everything you had to say. But you never did. And so he waited.

You didn’t know he chose that, but you decided to wait too. As long as it took for him to wake up, get better, you’d wait. For him, you’d wait for eternity.

A week and a half had passed since the accident. Chan was still unconscious.

The doctors said his concussion had caused such a condition and didn’t give any promises on when he would wake up. Just unclear prognoses to his parents, telling them he was stable enough to come back. They were hopeful; you tried to follow their example and put on reassuring smiles; Minho, on the other hand, started getting too realistic with his negativity. Eventually, he collapsed on the floor in the hospital room, sobbing, while you were sitting there too, trying to hug him, to help him let it out. Though, the two of you couldn’t even imagine how hard it was for his parents.

Taking your bag and closing your apartment door, you had yet another ride in the elevator to go straight to the hospital before work. Your boss was understanding enough not to penalize you for leaving on the day of the accident.

The underground, then the bus. A ten-minute walk to the hospital, talking to Chan’s parents, catching Minho before leaving, sharing breakfast with him. The usual ritual, the one you started getting used to, unfortunately.

However, today you came out of the bus thirty minutes before you regular schedule. With your punctuality issue, you wanted to appear strictly on time. And so the coffee shop you had always passed by on the way seemed like a good idea.

Not many customers, a couple of people occupying two tables respectively. Soft music was playing in the background, and the barista smiled at you, offering you their drink of the day.

“I’ll have a latte. With, uh, banana syrup”.

The girl at the counter said something about five minutes, and you nodded, taking a step back and started observing the menu absent-mindedly.

“You don’t change your coffee habits, do you?”

A very familiar voice. Furrowing your brows, you turned around to face grinning Yugyeom, whom you hadn’t seen for what seemed like eternity.

“Yugyeom?”

A stupid question to ask the man, standing in front of you in the flesh. But he nodded, the corners of his mouth still turned up. You returned the smile almost automatically, as you used to do, when the two of you were together.

“Are you in a rush?” He asked. “We could… talk”, he pointed at his table, and you nodded. Having asked the barista to bring you the cup, you sat down in the corner of the cafe, Yugyeom in front of you.

“Didn’t know you were back”, you uttered.

“Came back around seven months ago. I got a job offer here”.

“Where?”

The name of the company didn’t speak volumes to you, but it didn’t matter. For some reason, seeing his face during such a moment seemed like a message. Maybe everything would be alright.

“I heard what happened to Chan”, he continued, eyes glued to your face. “Are you okay?”

“Im fine”, you huffed, taking a sip of the coffee.

“You don’t have to lie”, his voice was soft, silky almost, and long time ago it drove you to dizziness all the time. “I know when you do”.

“Why didn’t you show up after coming back?”

Yugyeom tilted his head back and let out a laugh. “Changing the subject, as always”.

“I did it, so don’t change it back”.

He crossed his arms at the chest, his drink long forgotten. “I did show up. Turned up to your apartment complex, like an idiot-“

“How did you get my address?”

“Asked your parents”.

You sighed. Of course. “Why ‘like an idiot’?”

His mouth twisted; you knew he was being nervous when he did that. Why would he be nervous?

“‘Cause… I still hoped for something, y’know. We never… We never said it was over forever. So I thought, hoped we’d go back together eventually. And, uh, when I came back… I wanted to come back to you too”.

You lowered you head, watching yourself clenching and unclenching your fists. You two never drew the line in your breakup, really, but when two years had passed, you couldn’t wait for Yugyeom’s magical comeback anymore. And so the flings became relationships, endless circles of hell, until you reached the ninth, the one with the devil himself.

“So I bought your favourite flowers. Got dressed up, thought I’d take to the restaurant you wanted to go to when we were in college. And I was waiting for you”.

You cleared your throat. “You didn’t… We didn’t meet back then”.

“Yeah, we didn’t”, he nodded. “I spent a couple of hours in my car. And then I saw you, coming out of the building. With Chan. Uh, I mean, that wasn’t a problem, you are friends after all, I thought. But when… When you two basically started, uh, making out on the car hood, it was pretty clear you… That you wouldn’t be delighted to see me”.

You felt your ears burning; holy shit. You remembered the night: it was the second week of your the new and still mysterious affair with Chris; the tension was so palpable you could cut right through it. It ended up with the two of you kissing everywhere, in any dark corner, where no one could see you. And you were scared someone would; however, you could have never imagined the person who actually did see you was Yugyeom.

Maybe if he did show up, interrupting you and Chan, maybe, you thought, you wouldn’t have gotten into this mess. There would have been no tears, no emotionally draining sex, no breakup texts, and no accidents. Maybe Chan would have been at home now, quietly watching TV in safety. Not in a hospital room, injured, unconscious.

“I don’t know what to say, Yugyeom”, you muttered under your breath.

“Don’t say anything”, he asserted. “I’m not guilt-tripping you. It’s been too long. The fact that I haven’t moved on doesn’t mean you haven’t either”.

You were going to answer, but your phone started buzzing. Seeing the name on the screen, your heart skipped a bit, expecting to hear the worst.

“Minho?”

“He woke up. Come here now”.

Taglist:

@heylookwhoitis @amaranth-writing @itstorimf

[justwritedreams]

House Of Cards | San

San x Reader, exes to lovers au!, mafia au!

Word count: 12.013 (hehe)

Genre: angst, suggestive, fluff at the end

Warning: mention of crimes and violence, suggestive, language, San in a pool bc that's a warning. If you don't feel comfortable DON’T READ IT!

Author: Maari

Note: Ok so that was an imagine that i wrote with got7 yugyeom but reading again i decided to repost with san, because i think it fits him more.

Summary: It seems like your ghost from the past came at the best time to save you.

Taglist: @foxinnie8

⪢ Ateez Masterlist

“Miss Y/N.” She heard her own name echo through the corridor and turned around, coming face to face with one of the security guards whose name she hadn't yet memorized.

"Yes?"

“Mr. Kim wants to see you.”

She took a deep breath. She had just arrived at the hotel, he himself had told her to go up to the presidential suite

“Tell him I’m coming.”

“Now, miss.” His serious tone made her stop in her tracks and look at the security guard with some concern.

It wouldn't be good to go against Seungho's rules. It never was.

She nodded and followed him, the shower she planned to take would have to wait a little bit.

A while ago she would have sighed at the elegance of the hotel but unfortunately for Y/N, she was starting to get used to that life.

Well, used to wasn't quite the word. Conformed was more certain.

As she predicted, the security guard took her to a private area of the hotel, she was sure that Seungho had requested that only he frequent that place and with the great influence he had, it wasn't denied.

Y/N approached him alone and in silence, seeing him sitting in an armchair staring at the glass of whiskey he held.

"Wanted to see me?" She crossed her arms behind her body and swallowed hard when he looked at her.

She hated the weight of his eyes on her.

"Come here." he patted his own leg and she got the message, taking a deep breath before sitting on his lap.

Seungho ran his free hand down Y/N's back and stopped at the base of her lower back, the smell of alcohol was permeating his pores and it was enough for her to realize that this wasn't the first glass of whiskey.

Y/N didn't understand the sudden affection until he approached and kissed her lips, as always in a thirsty and quick way that caused absolutely nothing to Y/N.

Except disgust.

"You didn't call me here just to kiss me, did you?" she questioned, raising her eyebrow.

"No, but that doesn't mean I can't enjoy it." he approached once more but Y/N immediately avoided it. "Alright, I need you to stay by my side while I partner up."

He held out the glass of whiskey and she held it, reluctantly, her brow furrowed.

"Why? You're not going to introduce me as your girlfriend, right?" His eyes dropped to the small neckline of Y/N's dress.

She would have shifted uncomfortably if she hadn't been in his lap, that might have given him ideas she didn't want him to have.

"Don't be silly, of course not." Seungho's cold tone didn't even shock Y/N. "You know women with your beauty make business easier."

She blinked and blinked, in disbelief.

"Do you want me to seduce a future partner?" she asked, not as incredulous as she would have been in the past. This had been quite common, actually.

"No, I don't want you to go to bed with him." He responded possessively and angrily. "I just want you to give us the privilege of admiring your beauty." his hand ran up the spine to the back of Y/N's head.

She took a deep breath, she hated having to do that ridiculous act but it wasn't like she could say no, she never could.

"Okay, I'm just going to change my clothes." She got up from his lap, she was ready to get out of there, but Seungho held her by the hip.

"No, he's already coming." Seungho got up from the chair and moved his hand away from her body. "You look pretty sexy anyway." he spoke quietly, making her understand that his partner was closer than she imagined.

She lowered her head to look at her own heels, she should have chosen another dress before going to the hotel. That one seemed too short for her own taste but what could she do if Seungho had liked it and the pair of black high heels?

She lived to please him.

Noticing that she was still holding the glass, she downed the whiskey in one go so that she could gain a little more confidence to do the dirty work.

"Mr. Kim." the partner spoke friendly and Y/N swallowed the alcohol, which went down her throat and felt her heart stop when she heard his voice.

She knew that voice…

"Please, call me Seungho. Sit down."

Y/N lowered her head and opened her eyes, watching as Seungho pointed to the front seat and the two did so, with shaky legs she sat in the seat next to Seungho's and her eyes stopped on the future partner's hands.

Years could pass, but she would never forget those hands, not when they showed so many times the love that their owner felt for Y/N.

With complete certainty that this was really who she thought, she raised her head after letting out a sigh and her eyes met his for the first time in so many years, making her press her fingers against the empty glass she was holding.

Y/N felt a mix of emotions, her hands started to shake just with his eyes fixed on her, she didn't fail to notice that he analyzed her quickly before turning his gaze to Seungho, she got goosebumps from head to toe and asked herself how could he still do that to her? And what was he actually doing there?

"Choi San, right?" Seungho asked, making Y/N return to reality.

"Correct."

"Your secretary called me."

"We are very interested in a partnership with you, Seungho. I believe it will bring benefits to both parties, as my partner has already explained everything to you." the two maintained a rigid posture but unlike Seungho, San was elegant.

Of course, the gray suit San wore was very different from the hoodies he had and that she remembered, it suited the formal atmosphere they were in but it went beyond his appearance.

San's aura was different, as he was ready for that.

"Yes, it was a very productive meeting."

"I'm just here to finish the deal." San quickly looked at Y/N and a smile appeared on his face.

This disconcerted her, and she left the glass on the arm of the chair and clasped her sweaty hands to try to hide her nervousness.

"Well, I can pay you the first million right now if you want." She rolled her eyes discreetly, Seungho loved showing off how rich he was. "Just a minute." He got up from the chair and looked at Y/N quickly, walking away, leaving her alone there and ready to collapse.

If Seungho wanted her to seduce San now, that was a bad time.

But it wasn't surprising since he had never learned to read the atmosphere when she was near, he never noticed when she was uncomfortable or happy, because for him it didn't make any difference.

She looked back at San, still feeling vulnerable about being in front of him again after so many years and took in every detail of his face that she had never been able to forget.

He was different. His face was no longer so thin and youthful, now his features were stronger, more masculine.

The black hair that she remembered falling into his eyes was now perfectly pushed back and the side cut made him look much more handsome and mature.

Even in a suit and tie, she could see that he wasn't as thin as he used to be.

He was no longer the boy she had known, he was a man and very attractive one.

Her body vibrated for her to come closer and she felt her fingers tingle to touch his face one last time, like she hadn't had the opportunity in the past.

He continued to analyze her from top to bottom, much longer, which made her tremble all over.

Taking a deep breath, she decided to find the courage to do what Seungho had told her to do.

"You're getting a great deal, you'll be very pleased." the attempt to use a seductive tone failed due to the way her body was reacting.

She looked like a robot programmed to say that.

“That’s what they say, but it’s not the business I’m interested in.” San seemed to know very well how to use his voice in a low tone and something inside her warmed in a way that hadn't happened in a long time.

Y/N was left with no response and Seungho returned, probably thinking she had gotten what he wanted.

Little did he know that the spell had turned against the sorceress.

“What do you say we play poker while we settle the transaction, San?”

"It would be amazing." he got up from the chair and Y/N's eyes followed him.

She got up from the chair but made to go to the other side towards the uncovered part of that area, but she didn't even take two steps as Seungho held her arm tightly.

"Where do you think you're going?"

“I think the little act of being your luxury slut was enough for today.” she responded firmly and he tightened his grip on her arm, to the point of hurting it.

“Don’t play with me, Y/N, I want you by my side until the transaction is over.” His eyes were fixed on her face and for a brief moment, she was afraid.

Looking to the side, she noticed that San was watching them a little further behind Seungho, with his jaw clenched and with a rigid expression.

“I’m not going to sit at that table and watch you play that fuck poker that destroyed my life.” she turned her gaze to Seungho who now seemed to have understood. “You really like torturing me, don't you?”

“One day you’re going to have to stop blaming the cards, my love.” he let go of her arm, and Y/N controlled herself from crying.

It would be pointless and pathetic.

He walked away from her with a wry smile and passed by San, who stood there for a few seconds staring at Y/N until he shook his head and followed him.

She left there, feeling suffocated and her legs were shaking like never before, no longer able to control her tears, she leaned against the wall and looked at the clear sky, all the memories that she had been forced to bury came back with much more intensity.

[...]

7 years ago

“Get out of my house, please.” she begged without having the courage to look into his dark, gentle eyes, she would weaken if she did, especially if he was crying like her.

“Y/N, explain to me what’s going on.” he pleaded and she had to choke back a sob.

"It's over. Go away." She touched the door handle with her back to him, she was about to open it when he gently grabbed her arm.

“Something happened, right?" she took a deep breath before looking at him, feeling her heart break into thousands of pieces and sink into her stomach.

“What happened is that I don’t want you anymore, San. Don't insist." Her voice came out shaky and she knew she hadn't convinced him yet, she was about to break down in front of him but she couldn't. “We’re too young, it would never work.”

"Are you sure about that?" San slowly let go of her arm and looked at her completely lost.

She didn't respond, just opened the door with a silent message for him to leave.

No scene broke her heart like that when she saw him leaving with his head down, hands in his pants pockets and a tear running down his face.

She needed all the strength she didn't even know she had left to ignore the urge to hug him and tell him how much she loved him. Instead, Y/N closed the door and fell to the floor, now without needing or being able to control her crying.

She cried about so many things, she couldn't even list or understand what he cried most about, but she was sure she had made the biggest mistake of her life.

She had never felt so empty.

She was angry, scared, sorry and most of all, she was sad.

Because she had lost the only joy in her life, for a mistake that wasn't hers, for a decision that wasn't hers.

“Daughter…” Y/N looked at the stairs and saw her father coming down the steps, deflated and with a guilty expression.

She passed her hand over her face, drying her tears and got up from the floor. With long and silent steps, she walked past her father with the intention of locking herself in her room.

She would still have that night to sleep in her bed.

"I'm so-"

“Don’t finish that sentence.” She turned angrily, glaring at her father as she sighed. “I did what you wanted, now leave me alone.”

[...]

In recent years, Y/N has tried to erase that memory from her head. She didn't want to relive it like she did in the first nights when her life had changed, when she was brought back to reality with nightmares.

She didn't want to feel again the hurt she had towards her father for doing that to her and even less did she want to feel her heart break again when remembered San being devastated because she had broken up with him.

Even though she had managed to bury that day in the depths of her consciousness, that emptiness was always there.

And now here she was, being haunted by the ghosts of her past and crying like the heartbroken teenager she once was.

She wiped her face, thankful for her makeup being waterproof, approaching the balcony and surveying the bustling city.

A wave of nostalgia washed over her. She missed home, the happy moments she lived that were now just memories, she even missed her father. But mostly, she missed who she used to be.

The girl who had dreams and insecurities, which were always hushed up by San.

He was always everything for her, the kisses he distributed on her face and the convinced way he said that she would achieve everything she dreamed of, made her believe at the time.

She stayed there for a long time in silence, alone and without security guards watching her every step, making her feel free.

“It’s a wonderful view.” Y/N jumped in fright when she heard San's voice so close.

Looking to the side, she noticed he was next to her.

How and when did he get there?

“Yeah, the city is amazing.” she replied, still feeling her heart beating faster, she just didn't know if it was because of the scare or just because of him.

“I wasn’t talking about the city.” she felt San's eyes boring into her and a shiver ran down the back of her neck.

Since when was San so direct like that? Who had he learned to be like this from?

“Aren’t you supposed to be playing poker or something?” she changed the subject, still looking at the city.

“An hour ago I was.”

Y/N frowned.

Hour? Had she stayed there for an hour?

“So you closed the deal.” She took a deep breath and found the courage to look at him.

San nodded silently.

“You don’t seem very happy about this.” he smiled sideways, leaning on a pillar.

Happy? She didn't even know what that was anymore.

“I just hope you know what you’re getting into.” she shrugged, sighing.

“Why don’t you explain it to me?” San looked at her intensely and she returned it, unable to look away.

She could, a part of her screamed at her to do so, but she knew what she had to lose and she couldn't risk it, not now that he was there and she couldn't protect him from Seungho's fury.

"You wouldn't understand."

“Maybe I should warn you.” he took a step towards her while keeping his tone serious, without looking away.

“I'm not kidding, San. Be careful."

 Y/N's intention was to get out of there quickly, but he stopped her from continuing when he gently grabbed her wrist.

The contact made her stop, her heart beating faster. Feeling his touch again was everything she had asked for, being close to him was much more than she thought she deserved.

“So let’s be clear that I’m not kidding either.” She could practically feel his breath, his face was so close she could touch it at any moment if she stayed there. “In nothing I did or said today.” She swallowed hard and looked at him, seeing the conviction in his dark eyes and once again, she was left speechless.

She wanted to cry, for so many nights she had dreamed of those same eyes and it seemed like a dream that he was there so close to her and at the same time so far away, because even though he was the San she knew, he was no longer the same.

He had a certain power, a fire in his iris that she had never seen before, that she couldn't identify.

But it was very different from the way Seungho looked at her as if she were his property.

Y/N's eyes went down to San's lips, they looked extremely inviting and she wondered if it still tasted the same, the attention she returned to San's mouth didn't go unnoticed by him as he wet his lips with his own tongue.

Before she could get even closer to him, Y/N blinked a few times until she remembered where she was and who she was with, if Seungho arrived at that moment it wouldn't be good, especially for San.

Thinking about it, against every cell in her body she pulled away from San and his touch.

“Have a good day, San.”

She got out of there as quickly as her feet would allow her before she did something she would regret later, she didn't look back and was thankful once again that she was without security guards.

She arrived at reception and Seungho was leaning on the counter with his phone to his ear.

“Y/N!” he called with his free hand and turned his attention to someone else on the other end of the line. “Matt, I already took care of all that.” She approached him paying attention to the conversation, it was probably something related to their return. “You know she's good for much more than that. Okay, I’ll be there.” he hung up, huffing.

"Problems?" Y/N asked without the slightest interest.

“I have to receive a load today from the other side of town and they require my presence.” he informed, irritated.

“I’ll go upstairs and get our bags then.” she pointed to the elevator and was ready to go when he stopped her, raising his hand.

“No, Y/N.” he scratched his head and she knew something was wrong. “I haven’t finished the entire transaction with San yet.” she crossed her arms, waiting for him to finish. “And you know this hotel does business with me.”

"I know that."

That part of the city was heavily influenced by Seungho. Hotels, banks, even the hospital operated when and how he wanted.

“A luxurious dinner will be held to welcome Mr. Choi.”

“What’s all this-” she frowned.

“I need you to accompany him to this party and explain that I had an unforeseen event but we will finish tomorrow when I arrive.” he interrupted her and Y/N felt her expression fall.

Would she be alone with San for a whole night by his side?

"What?" She didn't want to show despair but it had become difficult after that. “No… I can’t… I can’t.”

Explaining to him what was really going through her head was out of the question.

“I need this partnership. Matt will be with me and you are the only one who can be here representing me.”

“Postpone receiving the load then.” she shrugged and he took a deep breath, visibly irritated. “I’m not you, I don’t have to deal with your business.”

It wasn't part of the role she had played in those years. For business, she was just the statue that if she winked at the partners, with the right clothes, she could make them close the deal faster.

Seungho was too jealous to let her be alone with a man for two hours, let alone an entire night.

This then meant that whatever the deal was with San, he didn't want to risk losing it.

Annoyed, he held Y/N by her arm with a somewhat unnecessary force, making her look into his eyes, to see that he was serious.

“I'm not asking you to accompany him, I'm ordering you to.” In fear, she lowered her head, giving up. “Don’t worry, my love.” He got closer and his mouth met her ear. “Tomorrow we will have all day to make up for the time we lost.”

She wanted to laugh but held back, sleeping with him was the last thing on her mind at the moment.

In fact, her mind was too busy with images of San in a suit.

[...]

Y/N spent the entire afternoon getting ready for dinner at the hotel with the help of a small team that Seungho hired to make her look magnificent.

Small because she had begged him, she wasn't a Hollywood actress after all, a football team taking care of her appearance for a simple dinner was unnecessary.

He had made it very clear before leaving that she must use every trick to convince San to wait until tomorrow. For Seungho, this was her only role, to seduce his partners.

Seduce, never go to bed with them.

Because for Seungho, she had to have her eyes focused only on him, and according to his theory, the more instigated to have Y/N, the more the partners would be committed to maintaining an agreement.

Basically, she was there to make these men fools, believing that one day they could have something with her behind Seungho's back.

At eight o'clock at night she was ready and couldn't deny that the job had been well done.

The red dress was long with a strap on one side and a detail at the waist that made it much more elegant, black sandals on her feet and ruby earrings that Seungho had given her, like the countless expensive jewelry she had been receiving in recent years.

She believed that he gifted her with expensive and luxurious things just to keep her with him, as if it made her wonder if she could live without flaunting the good life she had achieved.

Each piece of jewelry increased her indifference towards him, because it made her feel like she had been bought by him again.

The makeup had highlighted Y/N's face in an elegant way and she insisted on wearing red lipstick, she was trying her best to do the job, finally her hair was left loose but left aside.

She even tried to take a deep breath when she left the room but she couldn't lie to herself in that situation, she was nervous. More than that, she was anxious!

Seungho had left one of his security guards to take care of her, of course he wouldn't be that stupid, but when she arrived at the main hall and saw San smiling at some people he was talking to friendly, Y/N totally forgot about security or anything else.

It would be cliché to say that she couldn't take her eyes off him, but it was the truth, he looked wonderful. Breathtaking.

He wasn't as formal as he was in the morning, he was wearing a suit but without a blazer, just a black vest, the sleeves of his white blouse were rolled up to his elbows with the first two buttons open and his tie was slightly loosened.

He had his hair pulled back but with a few strands in his face.

God, even if he tried hard for 20 years he wouldn't be able to get ugly.

San realized he was being watched and looked towards Y/N, smiling brightly at her and he came to meet her quickly.

“Miss Y/N.” He took her hand and kissed it gently, like a perfect gentleman and it was enough to make her heart skip a beat, and her legs tremble slightly. “You look gorgeous.”

She smiled restrainedly.

“Thank you, Mr. Choi, I must say you look really nice too.” she tried to keep her tone formal to keep the theater for security.

"Would you like something to drink?" he looked at the security guard and she understood what he was planning.

"Of course." she replied and he put his arm through hers, she looked at the security guard who was watching them closely. “You don’t need to follow me, I’m fine.” she ordered and he agreed, stopping where he was and San took her away.

“The compliment was true.” he said without looking at her face.

"So was mine." she replied quietly, feeling her cheeks burn.

“You got a babysitter from your boyfriend, huh?”

Y/N could feel the jealousy in his voice and it made her smile discreetly.

“The babysitter isn’t for me, it’s for you.”

They arrived at the mini bar and he ordered two drinks.

“Is he afraid you’ll fall for my charms?” he turned to face her and got closer, making Y/N get lost in his scent.

That was it, she was intoxicated by everything about him. The smell, his voice, the heat of his body, which wasn't enough because she knew he was much hotter than that, she just needed to get closer.

“Actually, he’s afraid you’ll run away.”

“And you’re here to make sure I stay?” he asked, raising his eyebrow.

She searched in her head a decent answer but all that came out was just the truth.

“I’m here to make you stay.” she said even though she wished she could do otherwise.

If she had the power, she would make San move far away from her and Seungho, for his own good.

“And how do you intend to do that?” he took a step forward, their bodies practically touching. It was incredible, it seemed like he could read her mind.

Because she wanted to get closer, enough to put her hands on his broad shoulders.

“He asked me to seduce you.” she replied quietly and couldn't take her eyes off his mouth.

“Can you do it or will I seduce you first?”

Y/N didn't imagine that San would be so sexy like that and as dangerous as that game was, she was loving it.

What she remembered was a much shyer and not so confident San.

She held back the urge to bite her lip.

“You’re going to need a lot more than whispers to seduce me.”

Of course, as if she could convince herself of that.

He had just approached her and she was already feeling weak in the knees.

“That’s what we’ll see.” San smirked and walked away at the exact moment the bartender brought the drinks.

He handed the drink to Y/N who drank some while observing the room.

She managed to identify at least three more Seungho's bodyguard, and it wasn't surprising since she knew he would never leave just one of his men watching her.

Not when she had already tried to escape from him a few times in the past, without success, obviously.

No matter where she went, whoever she asked for help, Kim always found her and brought her back.

She was so lost in her analysis that she didn't notice when San brought his mouth to her ear to whisper.

“Can I show you something?”

She suppressed a smile and took a deep breath before looking at him, seeing him smile so close to her.

His smile still had the same effect on her, as if the sun had risen in the cloudy sky. It was the light in the midst of darkness.

It wasn't like she had the strength to deny it.

He held out his free hand and she took it, being led out of the room soon after.

The party took place near the pool and only a thick, red curtain separated the two places, Y/N sighed as she observed the full moon, which was brighter than usual, she had never seen it so beautiful.

San let go of her hand only to sit on one of the lounge chairs, she turned to face him when she felt the touch disappear and came closer but still remained standing.

“What did you want to show me?” she asked, quite curious.

“Nothing, I just wanted to be alone with you.” he confessed, resting his hands behind his head after placing the drink on the floor.

Y/N swallowed hard at the movement, as his arms were in evidence and she thought it more prudent to remain silent, this time returning her gaze to the crystal clear water of the pool, feeling not only her cheeks heat up but also her heart.

It seemed like even if she wanted to bury the old version of her that night, she couldn't.

“I know it’s been years, but I want you to know that I never gave up on you.”

She looked at him at the same moment, San didn't take his eyes off her and spoke with such conviction that it left her speechless.

All she wanted was to be able to throw herself into his lap and kiss him all at once. Only if the situation had been different, if they hadn't met again like that...

But time wasn't fair to them, it wasn't in the past and it wasn't now.

“I think I prefer it when you flirt with me.” Unable to contain herself, she spoke out loud and wanted to beat herself up for it.

“I can do that too.” he shrugged, getting up from the lounge chair. “I can do a lot of things.” He got closer and she felt her body go still at the short distance. This was the time she should take a step back, right? “Especially the ones you want.” she felt his hand on her wrist, going up her elbow in a pleasant way and making goose bumps go up her arm.

Damn it.

Y/N held the glass tightly, trying her best to remember what she was there for and especially what she shouldn't do.

San noticed the tension and took the dronk out of her hand, ending the sudden affection, placing it on the floor but Y/N wasn't prepared for what would come next, thinking he would just stare deeply at her like he had been doing.

But one of his hands found her waist while his mouth found her cheek, placing a soft, lingering kiss on the warm skin.

“You shouldn’t tease me like that.” She closed her eyes, letting herself go for a few seconds.

“Afraid to like it?” he asked close to her ear and his mouth went down to Y/N's chin, involuntarily one of her hands tightened on the arm that was holding her waist.

"This is wrong." Her voice was nothing more than a whisper.

It was? Wasn't she on board with Kim's plan?

“But you want that." He bit her chin, and she could feel him smiling.

"No." although her mouth said something, Y/N's body said the exact opposite. She dug her nails into San's arm and felt her body getting weaker and weaker.

She mentally begged him to kiss her and end that miserable tension.

“Y/N…” she stifled a moan when she heard her name being spoken so quietly by San’s seductive voice.

It was wrong and dangerous, but why did it feel so right?

She felt that San was about to kiss her, she felt his breath against her mouth and no matter how much her rational side screamed for her to stay away, her emotional side was controlling everything because that was what she wanted from the moment she saw him in the morning.

She had missed so much being in his arms, feeling loved, protected.

She felt San's lips so close, her own hands going up to his shoulders and she was ready to give in, when his lips touched hers just enough to make a slight tickle, the image of Seungho with a gun appeared in her head.

"No!"

Y/N pushed San and suddenly he no longer held her, not even his perfume covered the radius they were in, she opened her eyes to find him startled.

She took two steps back, placing her hands on her forehead, now regaining lucidity.

What was she thinking? How could she think of putting him in danger like that?

“Don’t do that” she trembled, feeling her eyes tear up. “I’m trying to protect you.”

“But, Y/N…” he took a step towards her and she raised her hand, asking him to stop right there.

He obeyed, confused and hurt.

"You wouldn't understand." she shook her head to get the image of Seungho finishing him off from her mind.

“Maybe if you explained it I could.”

She ran her hand over her own arm, not knowing what to say. If he continued to insist, she would eventually give in and things wouldn't end well.

San followed the movement and his eyes stopped at a specific place.

“What’s that scar on your arm?” he asked and she automatically stared at her own skin.

Y/N blamed herself for not choosing a long-sleeved dress, mainly because the scar was recent so it was lighter and she hadn't even remembered about it.

"I need to go." Once again she deviated from the subject, if she continued there she would end up saying everything she shouldn't have and that was definitely out of the question.

She would never forgive herself if something happened to San because she had told him everything, even if that was her wish. To finally clear things up, after so long.

She ran out of there as best she could, avoiding passing through the room where that damn party was taking place and hoped that San wouldn't go after her, deep down she knew he would leave her alone after that outburst but she only became calmer when the elevator doors closed with a bang, her inside that cubicle.

Unable to control it any longer, she let the tears she had been holding back for a long time fall, it seemed like an eternity before she arrived at the presidential suite.

She stumbled into the elevator because of her tears and took the opportunity to take off her heels right there, she no longer cared about her appearance as she had been taken care of for hours. Seungho's plan hadn't worked anyway so screw the party, the appearances and all that stupid luxury.

When she arrived, she threw her heels in any corner of the huge, cold room as she closed the door behind her, ran her fingers through her hair and took off her dress without any will.

All she wanted most was to lie in bed and sleep for a good twenty years.

And even she tried, she knew it wouldn't be easy to sleep that night, not after everything that had happened and to make even worse, everything she had tried to forget about the past was playing intensely in her head.

The memories she had with San, all the first times with him, from when they met until the day she broke up with him, her happy childhood and her difficult adolescence of having to deal with her father's addiction that affected the entire family.

Hugging the pillow, she let the tears fall again as she lay there alone once again, as it had been repeating since her father had spoken the harsh words that had changed her life.

[...]

It was already past 10 am when Y/N decided to leave the room and go to the pool, the weather was nice to take a few dips and that would help her forget everything that had happened, at least for a few hours until she was away from that hotel.

She put on a very simple white bikini, a long white button-down blouse so she wouldn't be walking around the hotel with nothing covering her body, white flip-flops and big glasses to hide the dark circles under her eyes from last night.

Luckily for her the pool area was empty and Seungho's security hadn't come after her so far, which meant she was free for who knows how long, she left her things on one of the sun loungers and her sunglasses were also left behind.

It didn't take long to enjoy the warm water, trying to wash away any traces of guilt and uncertainty.

After wetting her hair and swimming a little, she leaned against the edge, closing her eyes and feeling the sun on her skin as if it were giving her strength back.

She tried not to think about anything, just wanted to enjoy some time she didn't usually have, alone and quiet with her own conscience.

She felt the water become more agitated but she didn't pay any attention, she was feeling so light that she didn't even care that someone was there too.

The pool was big enough for that.

However, when she realized that someone was too close, she couldn't help but open her eyes and look at whoever it was.

Y/N need to rest her arms on the edge of the pool when she saw San standing in front of her with a shy smile and no shirt.

She had a very privileged view of San's bare torso, she knew he had gotten stronger but she couldn't imagine how much and she couldn't even disguise the way her eyes observed San's broad and strong shoulders, going down his chest. She couldn't see his abs clearly because the water was getting in the way of having a clear view of how defined he was, but realizing that he was there in just black swim trunks made her lose her train of thought completely.

Even with the water distorting a little, she could see how thick his thighs were.

Okay, San had turned into a personification of some Greek god and she couldn't stop looking at him to burn every bit of him into her memory, which conflicted when she remembered what he was like in the past.

She had never imagined that he could be so… hot.

She cleared her throat, trying unsuccessfully to hide it, and looked away, missing the opportunity to see his raised eyebrow.

“I didn’t think I’d see you so soon.” she spoke quietly.

“I was worried about you.” he admitted firmly and she swallowed hard.

“Let’s not talk about last night, please.” she pleaded, sighing and looking back at him.

San was serious, not mad at her, but he seemed to be trying to figure her out.

“We will need to talk one day, Y/N.”

“If that's why you came here…” she started to leave, but was stopped by San who put his arm on the edge of the pool and brought his body closer to hers, still without truly touching her. "What do you want?" she asked, pretending to be impatient.

He put his other arm on the other side, trapping her there and Y/N had nothing to do but look him in the eyes.

“Does he hit you?” it was simple and direct, making her jaw drop slightly.

"What…?" She released a breath that until then she hadn't even realized she had been holding. "Who?" She tried to pretend she didn't understand.

San cocked his head to the side, only to stare at her more intensely.

“Kim Seungho.” he spoke the name between his teeth. “Does he hit you, Y/N?” he asked, this time his tone became more serious and his eyes locked with hers.

He already knew the answer without her even answering, but he wasn't going to give up so easily because the only thing he needed was for her to tell the truth and then they could find an alternative.

"No!" she replied desperately, her voice became even thinner. “I mean, where did you get that idea?” she crossed her arms, trying to be defensive but she was actually scared.

If San found out the truth, she didn't know what he might do.

“That scar wasn’t made for a silly reason and now seeing you in that bikini, in addition to seeing that your body is still beautiful, I can also see some purple on your legs and belly.”

She swallowed hard, trying to think quickly of a convincing answer.

“The scar… I've had it since, uh, I was a kid” she forced her throat to stop stuttering but his attentive eyes weren't helping. “and the purple ones… well, I’m very distracted.”

“Do you think I don’t remember all your scars, Y/N?” He brought his face closer to hers and she didn't have the strength to turn away. “I had the image of your body in my head for years, I remember every inch of you.” she felt her body shiver and sighed slowly. “Tell me the truth, Y/N. Please." he pleaded.

One of his hands touched Y/N's face, making a pleasant caress and she couldn't stop herself from closing her eyes when she felt the soft touch.

“That’s a low blow.” she spoke quietly, fighting her eyes that insisted on closing.

"And yeah?" she could feel he was smiling. “You know, I remember you loved a kiss below your ear.”

Of course she loved it mainly because only he knew about it.

She couldn't think about much or open her eyes because his mouth was already practicing what his voice announced.

Y/N put her hand on San's shoulder and found that the sun did a great job of warming their bodies, but their skin wasn't the only thing that was hot there.

Her hand squeezed San's exposed skin, suppressing a moan as she felt his breath right next to her neck. She was unable to reason with that sudden approach, nor even breathe properly like a normal person.

"So?" he asked, lips touched her skin as he spoke but Y/N was too lost in that sensation to remember what his question was.

San moved his face away and she opened her eyes at the same moment, missing the contact, he looked at her, urging her to respond.

"What?" was all she could say.

“Y/N, I’m waiting for an answer.” He raised an eyebrow and she felt her legs tremble again.

Her mouth suddenly became dry and she had to use her own tongue to wet it, a movement that didn't go unnoticed by San.

“Do you think… I have the capacity… to talk after this?” she was panting and hadn't even kissed him.

San laughed softly, his dimple showing.

“Good to know I still have some power over you.” he said, cocky.

“It’s so much more than that, Sannie.” he smiled sadly at the old nickname. “I have always loved you and I will always love you.” her hands went to his face, making him look deep into her eyes. “But I can’t tell you, forgive me.” she said, seeing him take a deep breath. “Please don’t continue with this transition, cancel this damn partnership. This is all too dangerous and I would never forgive myself if something happened to you. I just…” she looked down, unable to continue, water was calm but a storm was still coming.

San brought a hand to her chin, making their eyes meet again.

"Just…?" he urged her to continue.

“I’m afraid of losing you again.” she confessed, straightforward.

San didn't say anything and neither did she dare continue, she had already said too much, he then brought his face closer to hers and ended that distance once and for all, Y/N could only close her eyes when San's soft and warm lips touched hers. So softly that it made her sigh against the kiss.

He didn't deepen the kiss or move his lips, he kept the touch for a few seconds that lasted for eternity and Y/N felt her eyes water even though they were closed, the hand that was still on Y/N's chin went down to her the back of her neck when he broke the kiss and her heart seemed to want to jump out of her mouth, she didn't even know how she was still standing.

Without the courage to open her eyes, because she knew she would cry like a child in front of him, Y/N didn't expect San to hug her so tightly that it sounded like a goodbye, the kind that leaves you breathless.

She grabbed him by the neck and rested her face on his shoulder while the tears ran down her face and got lost on San's skin, she could have stayed there hugging him forever.

San ran his hands down her spine and caressed her, feeling his breath on the back of her neck, Y/N closed her eyes to enjoy the feeling of being safe even if for that brief moment.

The sun burning on their skin lasted as long as the hug, which none of them had any idea how long it had lasted, but it had been enough to strengthen Y/N.

“Never forget what I said.” she spoke quietly and walked away, feeling cold and empty again when she no longer had San's warmth surrounding her, and swam towards the stairs.

She wanted to keep that image of him smiling and welcoming her, that was the reason she didn't look back as she got out of the pool and picked up her things from where she had left them.

She hoped that one day San would understand why she kept a secret from him and who knows, he could even one day forgive her. 

She knew that she had hurt him in the past but it wasn't because she was cruel, she was just trying to protect the one she loved. Including San.

She looked at her feet on the way back to reception and was ready to go to her room, but that wasn't exactly what happened.

A pair of expensive shoes stopped in front of her, stopping her from continuing on her way and she would have been rude if she hadn't been taken by surprise.

Seungho was in front of her with his arms crossed and his expression not at all pleasant.

“Beautiful scene, I think it deserves applause.” his voice was cold and he didn't even blink, she knew what was coming next and even so it didn't stop her from starting to shake with fear. “I’m just going to ask once, what the fuck was that?”

[...]

Y/N tried not to sob loudly but despair and fear were speaking louder this time, she didn't even know which floor she was on and she couldn't even think about stepping into reception.

With all of Seungho's security guards downstairs, all that was left for her was to sit on the floor of one of the floors of that hotel while she felt weak and helpless.

She brought her hand to her mouth to try to muffle the sound but when she felt liquid in the corner, she pulled it away and stared at the blood on her finger.

Her blood wouldn't be the only one that would be spilled, she felt anger take over her body and rubbed her hand with the other to try to get the blood out.

“Y/N?”

She looked to the side and even though her vision was blurry because of her tears, she recognized San and sighed with relief. 

San knelt in front of her and touched her chin, the lighting in the hallway was low but it didn't stop him from noticing some things, Y/N brought a hand to San's face to make sure he was really there with her.

"What happened to you?" He made to put his hand on her face but decided not to when he saw the tears that were still flowing. "Come with me."

He picked her up slowly, Y/N felt her ribs throb but ignored it as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

He walked to the end of the hallway and opened the door to one of the rooms, from which she could see that it was the one he was staying in. 

San placed her carefully on the edge of the bed and ran to lock the door, turning on the light in the room and Y/N's eyes watered even more.

In addition to irritation, shame too.

“Can you turn off the light, please?” her voice was weak and choked, she saw San's shoulders sag and looked away from him.

He did as she asked, leaving the room for a few minutes until he returned with a first aid kit.

Y/N took a deep breath and he approached, kneeling in front of her and held her gaze, when she saw that he wasn't going to say anything she looked at him and nodded, accepting that he would treat her injuries.

San did everything necessary and when she hissed in pain, he gently stroked her arm, looking closely at her.

“It was him, wasn’t it?” asked quietly after a quite time in silence, she noticed that he was controlling himself to remain calm.

Without the courage to respond and without any confidence in her own voice, she just nodded, listening to him take two deep breaths.

“How long has this been going on?” Y/N stared at him firmly this time, seeing him with his jaw clenched.

She wasn't ready to hear the answer but it was fair to him, even more so now that he was in danger.

"7 years." she replied quietly, shrugging her shoulders.

San got up from the ground, scratching the back of his head and then clenching his fists.

“That’s since…” his breathing got heavier. Since she had broken up with him, yes. “Y/N, you need to report this guy.” He knelt in front of her again and looked into her eyes, which were already teary again. “You need to step away.”

Carefully, San held her hands, bringing the comfort she needed at the moment.

"I can't."

"You must." he encouraged her and she shook her head, looking in any corner of the room.

“San, I can’t.”

"And why not?" he asked in disbelief.

“Seungho is influential. If I send him to jail for a few days, he might…” she trailed off, completely panicked just thinking about the possibility.

"Might what?" he instigated, he needed an answer and one that would convince him.

“Go after the one I love.” a sob was stuck in her throat. “You don’t understand, San. I have no choice, I can’t betray him, I can barely say no to him.”

He slowly pulled away and she took the opportunity to bring her hand to her face, wiping away the trail of tears.

Her head hurt, her eyes burned, her body was tired and she didn't know what to do. She was terrified.

"What do you mean by that?" He narrowed his eyes and she looked down, already knowing where he was going. “Can’t you say no to anything?”

She nodded silently.

It was difficult to speak out loud, even more so to relive everything she had been through with Seungho in recent years, even though she felt absolutely nothing for him other than contempt, touching those wounds hurt.

“If I dare to say no, this happens.” she pointed to her face.

San looked at her worriedly, his gaze more attentive than ever.

“Y/N…” she fell silent, waiting for him to continue. “Did he force you to do something you didn’t want to?”

San didn't need to say or emphasize the specific word because she didn't need to, she just lowered her head in shame. She couldn't look him in the eye.

"Yes." Y/N didn't even hear her own voice admit it.

All that seemed to have been enough for him, who was now shaking and keeping his hands clenched, the vein in his neck was popping out and he stared at the wall behind Y/N with hatred.

“I will kill him with my own hands.” he spoke slowly, getting ready to get up

"No!" she held San by the hand, preventing him from taking any steps. “San please don’t go.”

She despaired. That's what Kim was wanting.

After having "taught her a lesson", Seungho was very clear that he wouldn't stop until he killed San for having dared to touch what was his, for having had the audacity to kiss Y/N.

She couldn't even say anything, it wasn't like she was going to tell the truth about San's identity or else things would be much worse. Seungho wouldn't only kill San, he would torture him for finding out that he was the one she loved.

And she knew he wasn't joking, his bodyguards were in the lobby to make sure San wouldn't leave there. It didn't matter if he was alive or dead.

"Don't ask me-"

“Don’t leave me here alone.” She tried to get out of bed in a hurry but all she managed to do was trip over her own feet thanks to her throbbing leg.

San was faster and held her by the waist, helping her sit on the bed again very carefully.

“Y/N, don’t get up.” His hand stopped on her thigh, checking if she was okay.

“I just want to forget everything that happened.” she sighed, looking at him sadly.

Maybe it wasn't the best time for it, but San was the only person who could make her forget even her own name and that's what she needed.

“I want to be your Y/N again.” she touched his face, the words seemed to have an effect on him, he understood what she meant but was reluctant. “I just want to feel your touch, even if it’s for one night.”

Y/N's hands slowly trailed down his neck to his hard pecs and his eyes wavered momentarily.

“You’re hurt,” he reminded, voice lower. “I can't-” she put her finger to his mouth, shushing him.

“The only thing I can’t take anymore is this distance.”

San swallowed hard and held her wrist, still undecided whether to push her away or not. It was clear that he wanted this as much as she did, but he was afraid of hurting her.

“I thought that’s what you wanted to do in that pool.”

He looked at her firmly, reading if she had any trace of doubt, but when he realized that she was convinced of what she wanted, he brought his body closer to hers so slowly that it left her intoxicated and his hands went to her waist. 

His eyes focused on her mouth and he brought their faces closer, leaving her anxious for what was to come.

But San didn't rush things, quite the opposite, still without putting their lips together he ran his nose along the length of Y/N's face from one side to the other, feeling the soft texture of her skin against him, one he had never forgotten.

Y/N sighed and closed her eyes, her hands still on San's chest, and her heart beat even faster when she felt his lips gently touch hers, making her grab his shirt.

San kissed her carefully and affectionately, his warm, wet lips dictated a slow rhythm that indicated he was just savoring and making up for the time they had lost.

San broke the kiss and she was already panting, without the strength to open her eyes, and then he started a new kiss a little faster.

Y/N took the opportunity to bring him closer, pressing their bodies together and made him move, leaning forward, taking his hands from her waist to rest on the bed as their tongues finally met again, thirstier than ever.

Y/N hugged him around the waist with her legs while her hands went to his back, while San took the opportunity to rest his elbows on the mattress so that his body weight wouldn't hurt her.

He treated her like a porcelain doll, fragile to the point of breaking and although she found all that care very cute, it still wasn't what she wanted.

So, she grabbed his shirt and pulled it up, that useless piece of clothing was just getting in the way anyway, he broke the kiss just so he could take it off while her hands went back to his chest, going down to his abdomen that she stroked.

She felt his skin crawl between her fingers and smiled, now she could see perfectly how much he had worked out over the last few years and she just couldn't stop feeling the texture of his warm skin, as if she could memorize every inch.

"Surprised?" he asked, his husky voice making every hair in Y/N's body stand on end.

She bit her lower lip.

“Not quite the word I would use.”

San laughed softly and brought his face to her neck, where he began to distribute wet, hot kisses, making her rub her hips against his and scratch his abdomen while she closed her eyes.

“There’s someone desperate here.” he confirmed and bit her earlobe, making her squeak softly.

Not because it hurt, but because she liked it. Very much.

“You teased me enough at that party” she replied and he decided to move the kisses to her chin, smiling.

"Thank you love. Red looks great on you too.” He bit her chin as he spoke, now kissing her neck and chest even further. “But I prefer you in that bikini.” He moved the neckline of the dress she was wearing enough to sink his nose between her breasts and her hands automatically went to the back of his head. “Or maybe without it.”

One of San's hands found the end of her dress and began to lift the fabric, he moved his own torso enough to be able to remove the piece from her, which she desperately helped him pass over her own arms.

He took the opportunity to kneel on the bed and observe her in just her underwear, she felt not only her cheeks but her entire body heat up, he looked at her as if she were the most beautiful woman in the world, enough for her to forget the bruises on her face and body.

He tilted his body to stay on top of her, still without letting all his weight fall on her, he distributed kisses along the entire length of her shoulder while she sighed, she was at his mercy and just wanted to enjoy the caresses he distributed over her skin.

San could do whatever he wanted with her. It could be dangerous, uncertain and even wrong, but she wasn't strong enough to fight it and being there with him, she knew she would be okay.

After years she would finally be where she always dreamed, back in his arms being enveloped by the love he still showed for her, which seemed to be ever greater than the last time.

There with him, sighing and moaning his name, it was as if no time had passed.

[...]

Y/N slowly woke up, her body still hurt and her eyes burned from the brightness of the room. So she brought her hands to her face to rub her eyes. 

It was then that noticed she wasn't in the presidential suite, patted the other side of the bed that was empty and remembered the night before.

Taking the sheet that covered her body with her, she sat on the bed, brushing her hair away from her face and at the same moment San came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist.

She smiled discreetly as she stared at his bare and strong torso, memories of the previous night flooded her mind and her cheeks burned.

She had no reason to be shy, but she really was after what they had done last night.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty." San smiled widely and came over to give her a peck.

"Good morning." She replied and he stopped, looking at her with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" She asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Nothing, it's just that… it's good waking up with you by my side."

She smiled, feeling like a fool in love.

"You say like you never slept with me."

"Well, when we were dating everyone thought we didn't sleep together." he shrugged and sat next to her on the bed, tucking her hair behind her ear. “That we were two inexperienced innocents.”

"That's because no one knew you were a pervert." she replied jokingly and his fingers moved to her shoulder, giving her a nice caress.

"You didn't complain about that pervert." He pouted and she laughed, tilting her head.

"Because I love him." she replied, moving closer to kiss him.

However, before they could make an intense noise of sirens could be heard throughout the hotel.

Y/N pulled away, scared looking around as if she could guess what was happening and San sighed.

"What is that?" she asked more to herself and watched as he got up from the bed.

"I wish I had told you sooner."

She frowned.

"Told what?" asked but San didn't respond immediately, he approached the suitcase that was on top of the armchair in the room and opened it, taking the towel off his waist and leaving himself in just his underwear in front of Y/N who was watching him curiously.

She saw San put on dark pants and then a white t-shirt, which really highlighted his torso, but the shock came when he took off a vest and she felt her jaw drop when she realized it was bulletproof, she knew because she saw the word police written on the front. 

Feeling her head spin, she had to put her hand on the bed to keep herself standing, or in this case, sitting.

"San, what is this?" the weak voice asked and he finished putting on his shoe.

"Come with me." he asked and she looked at him confused. "Do you trust me?"

She didn't even need to think about the answer.

"Always."

San approached the bed and reached out to her, Y/N held it and got up from the bed.

He separated his own clothes for her to wear besides her thin dress and she did so, still not understanding what was happening, San made her wear a blazer that looked huge on her but covered most of the bruises on her arm.

He took her out of the room and they took the elevator, she was distressed because San didn't say what was happening even there alone, keeping his hand on her waist and his expression too calm.

She was already internally biting her cheek and when she got out of the elevator she saw that the place was full of police officers, uniformed and armed.

Y/N followed with her gaze a police officer who passed in front of her with a very large gun, hearing San's low laugh that made her continue walking forward.

In the hotel lobby, she was able to get a sense of the situation. Several of Seungho's henchmen were kneeling on the floor with their hands on top of their heads while some of the police officers watched them quite angrily, others walked around the hotel looking for something.

"Detective Choi."

Y/N turned her head so fast it made a noise, San patted her back before reaching out to the approaching police officer.

"Kang." he greeted his colleague, adopting a more serious pose.

"Everything is in order, the evidence and witnesses are being taken now."

San nodded and the officer turned his attention to Y/N. "And Miss-"

"Don't worry, I'll walk her to the police station myself." San spoke firmly as her eyes widened.

Police station? Would she go to the police station?

The police officer nodded and left, leaving San and Y/N alone.

"What is happening?" she asked quietly, and he held her shoulders gently.

"Follow me." she wanted to understand what was happening but his eyes said that everything would be fine and she believed it.

That's why she silently agreed and let San take her outside, towards a black car, he opened the passenger door for her and she got in without question. San got in on the other side and started the car while Y/N put her hands together to play with her fingers, waiting for him to start talking.

“Where do you want me to start?” he asked, keeping his eyes on the street.

Y/N shrugged, laughing lightly.

"You are cop." she confirmed and looked at him, seeing him nod his head.

“When you broke up with me 7 years ago, I knew something was wrong.” he took a deep breath. “I was always convinced that you would never do that to me if you didn't have a very strong reason, we always talked about plans for our future and one night you just didn't want it anymore?” He glanced at her, seeing that she was immersed in the explanation, he continued “The next day, I returned to your house, I was determined to talk to you more calmly but when I arrived at the corner I saw that you were leaving with your bags from home, what surprised me most was the fact that you said goodbye to your mother but you didn't even look at your father's face.”

Y/N took a deep breath. That scene of saying goodbye to her parents was like a blur in her head, the only thing she remembered was that she began to understand the meaning of being alone.

“Your father was your hero, your rock and you simply ignored him before getting into a car that had never been in your house before.”

“It wasn’t the easiest day of my life.” she commented, resting her head on the car seat.

“I know, me either.” San stopped the car at the traffic lights and turned to face her. “That’s why after I saw you driving away in that car, I knocked on the door.”

Y/N's jaw dropped.

"What?"

“Your mother answered, she was devastated but it seemed like she knew I was going to show up, when I walked in… Your father was drinking, he was crying and saying he had destroyed your life.”

Y/N felt her nose itch, indicating that her eyes were about to water.

“I asked them to explain to me what was happening, I don’t know, I wanted to be able to help in some way.” he shrugged and the car started moving again, with San turning his attention to the street again. “Your father told me he bet you on a game, that he was an addict and that he had lost the only thing that mattered. At first I didn’t want to believe it.” he laughed, humorlessly. “That was the script for an Italian mobster movie, but your mother confirmed the version and said they were forced to hand it over to you or else everyone would suffer the consequences.”

She took a deep breath, staring into space.

That was the truth.

She never chose Seungho, she was forced to or he would start killing everyone she loved, starting with her father. 

“After a few days of crying like a teenager I was, I went to talk to Hongjoong. His uncle was a police officer and heard the story, he told me who the Kim family was and what Seungho was capable of since at the time he was starting to take over a good part of the west of the city. He told me that there were rumors among the police that he had gone after your father and instigated his addiction to cards because he wanted to have you.” she swallowed. She already knew this version of the story and still reacted the same way. “He had become obsessed with you and had done everything on purpose. I was so angry, I had never felt such hatred as I did that day. I didn’t even know I was capable of feeling that.”

Y/N looked at him, there was a certain anger in San's words and his jaw was clenched.

“That day I promised myself that I would take revenge, that I would make him pay for everything he had done to you, for stealing your life. Our life.”

San looked at her and smiled sadly.

“And I joined the police, I wanted to do things the right way.” she smiled lightly, it was obvious to her. San was always very correct. “But it wasn’t that easy. I needed to prove to everyone that I was capable, I went through a lot of things in the police to reach the day when I would finally have the opportunity to start investigating the Kim family.”

“And you didn’t deny that chance.” It wasn't a question.

San parked the car and she looked outside, seeing that they were already at the police station, he rested his arm on the steering wheel and turned towards her.

“I couldn’t, we would only have this opportunity to catch him. He didn't know my face, he didn't know who I was, we created a way to bring our team closer to him. And it worked, he believed it.”

She took off her belt and turned to San.

“You already knew you would find me.”

He nodded and held one of her hands, giving it a gentle caress.

“I know it will seem strange but I followed your every step, it was part of the investigation.”

She felt a shiver run down the back of her neck.

“Am I going to be arrested?”

San pressed his lips together in a thin line and brought his hand to caress her face.

“No, you are the main witness in this case, everyone knows that you were just one of his victims. With all the evidence I've gathered, you're all clear. But you need to tell the police everything you know.”

Y/N felt butterflies in her stomach and took a deep breath.

“Okay, if that’s what I have to do to end this story once and for all.” she nodded and he smiled widely at her. “What about last night…”

He laughed, scratching the back of his head with his free hand.

“Well, you don’t need to say.”

She laughed too.

San approached and kissed her forehead, making her sigh.

“I’m here with you and I’m not going anywhere.”

“I thought it was impossible for me to love you more, but I do.” she shrugged and saw his eyes light up, just like they did last night. “If I stayed sane all these years, it was thanks to you.”

San kissed the tip of her nose.

“I would do anything for you, to keep you safe. I love you, Y/N.”

“What about us?”

"Us?" he pretended to think for a moment and she narrowed her eyes, smiling. “I think we still have a lot to make up for.”

[chugging-antiseptic-dye]

got7 as teachers 👨‍🏫🖍️:

mark as a math teacher -> • seems like a pushover but there was An Incident where a student made him mad enough it resulted in 3 expulsions, 8 suspensions, and a school-wide fear of him • assigns students that hate each other as seatmates so he can enjoy the drama • is a class favourite bc he doesn't yell at people for sleeping or eating during class

jaebeom as a literature teacher -> • comes into class with a mug full of coffee and spills some on students once a week • encourages students to form their own opinion and perspective on the books being taught • his assigned essays have no fixed length or format. go wild

jackson as a p.e. teacher -> • everyone's biggest cheerleader • flags down people randomly and gives life advice • is besties with the students and knows all the tea

jinyoung as a history teacher -> • teaches history as if he has a personal beef with every historical figure • if students annoy him too much, then they have to prepare themselves to be publicly humiliated. he will say something like, "history repeats itself, like how tony keeps picking his nose." • makes sure students understand the whys behind history and not just memorise it

youngjae as a music teacher -> • is the unofficial dictator of the whole school • the director of the annual school play and every year he rubs it in the face of other schools' drama teachers that his plays are the best in the whole district • everyone has a silent competition on who can make him laugh the loudest

bambam as a chemistry teacher -> • the school had to change their manual for lab safety bc of him • is a big fan of the application part of chemistry. every year he tries to find out how many times he can make things go boom 💥 • dresses like paris fashion week is his official dress code

yugyeom as a substitute teacher -> • gets pushed around by freshman • whenever he takes a class, the students cheer like it's a national holiday • is the director of the school performance team and the marching band and he runs both like a military boot camp

[nctangelz]

MONIQUE & HER LOVES.

tw: mentions of heartbreak, drug abuse

nam joohyuck [ 2016 - 2018 ]

relationship in a nutshell: wanted each other to be someone they weren't.

nam joohyuck was monique's first relationship - her first love. the pair originally met in 2014 through mutual friends, monique was hanging out with her close friends who had made it into the industry, and her friend invited her boyfriend and a few of her friends. joohyuck was one of them. after that, monique kept seeing him around. at events SM took her to, to get her name out there, on the streets, and even at coffee shops. joohyuck always caught her eye. they became close friends, monique had a blossoming crush on him for a whole year before she gained the courage to make moves.

when they finally got together - monique swore she found the person she was going to spend the rest of her life with. joohyuck and monique were the happiest couple around, all their peers agreed. constantly smiling and laughing. monique was very busy after debuting, but joohyuck understood all too well. he brought her flowers, coffee, and had snacks delivered when she was at the company late. he'd sneak out with her, take her on dates, and love her like she was the most perfect girl in the world. it was all monique could ever dream of.

she didn't imagine herself with anyone else, joohyuck agreed. but after a year and a half, the couple found it hard to keep saying that. they had a hard time seeing eye to eye. minuscule arguments turned into heated arguments. nights where they would stay up staring in each others eyes, turned into nights with slamming of car doors and tearful eyes. monique called it off, tired of the arguing. the breakup made her lose her soul, it took her a whole year to move on. she wishes joohyuck the best always, and for years she would find herself wondering how things would be if they were still together.

this relationship remained private, and the public never knew anything about it. there was a few speculations about it after monique released her solo album, but nothing huge ever resulted from it.

kim yugyeom [ 2019 — 2021 ]

relationship in a nutshell: one night stand turned into taking you to dinner with my parents

yugyeom and monique both knew of each other fairly well, due to a handful of interactions between got7 and nct 127. at the time, monique still couldn't imagine herself with anyone that wasn't joohyuck. but she hated to admit that she was starting to get lonely. as bad as it sounded at the time, she knew she needed to find someone who could cure her loneliness, just for a little bit. just for a night.

so, monique went out with a few of her friends, hoping to find someone that made her feeling something, made her feel anything. after a few shots, she accidently bumped into yugyeom. yugyeom was shocked to see her there - got7 had invited 127 for dinner a couple times, but monique never joined. the pair got along fairly well, and eventually, one thing led to another, and monique woke up to him the next morning.

monique wanted it to be a one night thing only, but the frequent texts from yugyeom and the aching in her heart didn't help to keep her strong - so she visted yugyeom, again. and again, and again, and eventually, she was spending the night at yugyeom's house every other night. he made her feel something, and helped her ignore the pit of loneliness in her gut too, but monique started to realize she was starting to enjoy yugyeom's company, instead of just the nights in bed. she found herself going over to the apartment just to talk to him, and she found comfort in simply sitting on his couch and watching a movie with him. she realized after a month of them hanging out together, that he brought her peace. he took her out to dinner, and then monique really had to stop lying to herself. she was falling in love, again.

monique was scared to fall in love again, and she was very hesistant to let down her walls again, to get attached too quickly. but it was hard to resist yugyeom, with his gentle smile and his gentle hands. even though she got constant teasing from 127 due to her being older than yugyeom, they couldn't deny that the man made her happy.

after a year of dating, monique and yugyeom moved in together. their apartment became the apartment, they had friends over almost every weekend, and they spent so much time decorating it. it was beautiful, and their relationship was almost perfect. but, monique wanted a family. yugyeom didn't, and he didn't want to hold monique back. so he left, he left her and the apartment, alone.

this relationship went public after the couple had dated for a year (2020), and when they spilt, the companies released information about it on the same day, describing the breakup as "mutual", and due to "personal reasons".

ahn bohyun [ 2021 — 2022 ]

relationship in a nutshell: lots of sexual tension turned into fake dating turned into lovers…scandalous due to age gap.

bohyun and monique met on the set of my name - and monique couldn't help but build a little crush with her costar during filming (can we blame her). bohyun had this charm, that seemed to almost instantly make monique's knees buckle. everyone could sense the tension between bohyun and monique during filiming, they would make small fliratous jokes or perhaps be a little bit too touchy, and it seemed as if they were playing a game with each other.

after filiming was wrapped up, the team had a celebratory dinner, and this was were monique and bohyun truly let themselves go. they had a couple drinks, and they sat next to each other the whole night. they couldn't stop whispering in each other's ears, and bohyun couldn't help himself from putting his hands on monique. there was no hiding their desire.

they had a fling, but they didn't really have any intentions of having anything serious. but, monique was facing a lot of hate, for two main reasons. one was for her last relationship, netizens were tearing her up over the fact that yugyeom left her. and another reason, netizen's also got ahold of the news from lyon, france, where they found out that monique's dad had gotten arrested for participating in various drug trades. the makers of my name were worried that the show wouldn't do good - and seeing how much chemistry there was between monique and bohyun, they proposed the pair to fake date to get interest in the show. and it worked, monique and bohyun had rules, where they only did couple things in public, and then went on their own ways after. but, sometimes, it was hard to distinguish between what was real and what was fake.

eventually, monique and bohyun realized that they had actually fallen for each other. they had a good relationship, but it didn't last long. the pressure was too much for the two of them, especially since the public thought they were in love for so long. the public was devastated, but for once, monique found herself to be okay.

this relationship was public, obviously, but the public doesn't know that it was a fake relationship for the first half of the relationship. when they split, the companies released a statement that the couples had conflicting schedules, as well as that they decided they'd be better off as friends. which, monique and bohyun still talk occansionly, purely platonic!

jeon wonwoo [ 2022 — present ]

relationship in a nutshell: you were all i ever needed, why didnt i see it sooner?

wonwoo and monique had been best friends for so long, they had been friends for seven years before they started dating. wonwoo was there for monique through all of the heart break, and never once left her side. he was someone she could always trust, someone that could always bring a smile to her face. same for him. they always had each other when they needed somebody.

when wonwoo realized he had feelings for his best friend, he hated himself for it. he didnt want to ruin the friendship, and he didn't want to put through monique through pain. so he held it down, he held down his feelings for three years, and then he realized that he could not longer bite his tongue. he confessed to her - and like he expected, monique was shocked. she didn't know what to say or how to react. so, wonwoo gave her space.

a few weeks later, she came around. and she realized, that she had some feelings too. she knew too well that she loved him stronger than a best friend, but she never thought that wonwoo would ever feel the same.

they took time getting into their relationship, and now, they are stronger than ever, and so in love. wonwoo was the man monique needed, and monique is the woman wonwoo needed. they are set to marry soon, and they are so filled with love and joy. it's the happy ending they both deserve!!

the couple went public in 2023, and announced their engagement in the spring of 2024!

[xomaleyaxo]

Stolen Glances → Blackpink 5th Member

Synopsis: A long-hidden attraction is revealed, leading to an unexpected connection and the start of something new.

Wc: 2.6k

Pt 2: Stolen Hearts

"Never doing this shit again," Mirae thought bitterly after her most recent breakup with In-guk. The memories of their time together still stung, and she was annoyed at how things had turned out—how she had given so much of herself, only for it to end in heartache. The hard decision to walk away had been the right one, but that didn't make it any easier.

She had been through enough. Too many relationships that promised everything and delivered nothing but disappointment. So she swore it off. Love, dating, any of it. It wasn’t worth the pain.

She had decided to take time for herself, to learn to enjoy her own company and focus on everything but love. And for the most part, she did just that—spent a year rediscovering who she was outside of romance, finding peace in her independence.

That is, until Kim Mingyu walked into her life.

Or, more accurately, waltzed back into it. He'd always been there, lurking on the edges of her world, a friend of a friend. Someone familiar but distant, never someone she'd ever imagined in that way.

Yet, there was something different this time. Every time Mingyu was around, Mirae felt an unexplainable sense of comfort and ease that she hadn’t felt in a long time. It was as if his presence was a balm for her weary heart, a soothing reminder of simplicity and genuine connection.

She found herself looking forward to their interactions, enjoying the effortless conversations and the way he seemed to bring a sense of calm to her chaotic world. It wasn’t that she wanted to ask him out or even entertain the idea of starting a new relationship—she just liked being around him.

"Why’s there a little sparkle in your eye?" Yugyeom said teasingly as he watched Mirae walk toward him, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. She had been socializing with a few of the other guests, including Mingyu, at the gathering, but clearly, he had noticed something more.

"What do you mean?" she asked, giggling slightly, though she knew exactly what he was hinting at. Yugyeom always had a way of seeing right through her, no matter how hard she tried to act nonchalant.

"Mhmmm, acting like you don’t know what I’m saying, huh?" he teased back, leaning in slightly as if they were sharing a secret. "I saw the way you were looking at Mingyu. And don't even try to deny it."

She rolled her eyes, but her smile gave her away. "You're being ridiculous, I wasn’t—"

"Please," he interrupted, chuckling. "You were practically glowing every time you guys were near each other. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you’ve been orbiting around him all night."

Mirae bit her lip, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. "It’s not like that," she muttered, though even she could hear how weak her protest sounded.

"Yeah, sure," Yugyeom drawled, his grin widening. "Listen, Mirae, I’ve known you long enough to know when you're smitten. And from what I know... Mingyu's been waiting for you to notice him for a long time."

She blinked, thrown off by the sudden revelation. "Wait, what?"

Yugyeom nodded, a sly grin tugging at his lips. "You heard me. The guy’s been into you for ages. He just never had the guts to say anything because, you know... you guys were never around each other enough. But trust me, he’s had a crush on you forever."

Mirae blinked, trying to process what he was saying. "Wait, Mingyu? You’re joking, right?"

Yugyeom’s chuckle made it clear he wasn’t. "Come on, Mirae, don’t act so surprised. You really didn’t notice? He lights up like a Christmas tree every time you’re around. He’s been keeping it low-key, though, probably because you’ve been through a lot. But it’s pretty obvious to everyone else.'

Mirae felt a warmth creeping into her cheeks. Mingyu? The same Mingyu she’d only ever thought of as just another person who floated around in the same circles? She’d always assumed they were friendly because of their mutual connections, never once considering that there might be anything deeper there. He was familiar, yes—comfortable, even—but never someone she had really considered in a romantic light.

"I had no idea," she admitted, feeling a mix of confusion and disbelief. She looked across the room, where Mingyu stood laughing with some of their friends, completely unaware of the conversation happening about him.

"Yeah, that’s kind of the point," Yugyeom said with a laugh. "He never pushed because he knew you were focused on other things—your career, your past relationships. But believe me, that guy has had his eyes on you for a long time."

Mirae’s heart started to race as her mind replayed the moments she’d shared with Mingyu recently—the casual smiles, the effortless conversations, the way she’d started to notice how his presence brought her comfort she hadn’t expected. Was that why things had felt different with him lately? She thought she was just being paranoid, reading too much into things, but now it all made sense.

"I just... I don’t know," she muttered, suddenly feeling nervous. "I’ve always thought of him as just... there. A friend. Someone in the background."

"Exactly," Yugyeom said, leaning in with a teasing glint in his eye. "But he’s not just a background character, is he? Not anymore."

Mirae bit her lip, torn between the safety of keeping things the way they were and the thrill of exploring something new. "But what if I’m not ready? I’ve been through too much, and I’m not sure I can handle putting myself out there again."

Yugyeom softened, giving her a supportive smile. "Mirae, you deserve happiness. You’ve been guarding your heart for so long, but maybe it’s time to let someone in—someone who’s been waiting for you to see him. Mingyu’s not just anyone; he’s someone who’s always been quietly there for you. Maybe this time, it’s worth taking the risk."

Mirae glanced back at Mingyu, watching him from across the room as his laughter filled the air. She had spent so long thinking of him as just another face in her world, but now she was starting to wonder if he was meant to be something more—someone she could finally let in.

Maybe Mingyu was worth the leap.

As the night progressed, Mirae found herself quietly watching as Mingyu made his way over to Yugyeom, joining in on the laughter and easy conversation. She leaned against the wall, eyes following him, taking in how effortlessly he fit into the group. His laughter was infectious, his smile bright, and for a moment, she caught herself staring—really staring. He was undeniably handsome, but it was more than that. There was a warmth to him that drew people in, including her.

They had known of each other for a long time, always moving in similar circles, but never quite connecting like this. And now, with that new knowledge from Yugyeom—that Mingyu had liked her for ages—it complicated everything. She couldn't deny that there was something different between them now, something she hadn't felt before.

But Mirae had been down this road before. She had felt this spark with others, only to have it fizzle out or crash in a mess of hurt and regret. The fear of ruining what they had—this easy, natural friendship—was gnawing at her. What if this went wrong? What if she misread the signs or rushed into something that would only leave them both feeling broken?

Mirae sighed softly, pulling her gaze away from Mingyu and back to the drink in her hand. It was safer to leave things as they were, to pretend this pull toward him wasn’t growing stronger with every smile he flashed her way. But deep down, she knew it was already too late. The feeling was there, and it wasn’t going anywhere.

But Yugyeom, well, he was never someone to let things slide. He’d known both of them for years and could see the way their eyes lingered on each other, the way their conversations flowed with an ease that went beyond friendship. To him, it was obvious—they had something special. And being their mutual friend, he couldn’t help but feel it was his duty to give them that push in the right direction. He could tell that neither of them would take the leap on their own.

Yugyeom knew that despite Mirae now being aware of Mingyu's long-held feelings, she would never make the first move. Her hesitation, her fear of repeating past mistakes, held her back, and honestly, it frustrated him. He could see how well they fit together, how perfect they could be if they just let themselves take the risk. He had seen it time and time again, the subtle glances, the moments of quiet understanding between them.

He was tired of waiting for them to figure it out.

So, when the opportunity arose, he took matters into his own hands. Mingyu needed to know that this wasn’t one-sided, that Mirae wasn’t oblivious. Pulling him aside as the party wore on, Yugyeom wasted no time in spilling everything—Mirae's recent reaction to hearing about Mingyu's crush, the way she seemed torn between fear and interest.

“You’ve got to just go for it, man,” Yugyeom urged. “She’s scared, yeah, but she’s into you. You’re never going to know if you don’t try.”

Mingyu, caught off guard by the sudden push, looked over at Mirae, who was talking to someone across the room. He hesitated for a moment, nerves creeping in. "I don't want to make things awkward between us. What if it changes everything?"

Yugyeom shook his head. "You guys are already at that point. Trust me, it’s not going to get better if you sit around wondering. Just talk to her. You’ve liked her for ages, right? So go and tell her."

Mingyu stood there, listening to his own thoughts swirl, contemplating if he should take the risk. He trusted Yugyeom—after all, Yugyeom was closest to Mirae, and if anyone knew her true feelings, it was him. Still, doubt lingered. What if she didn’t feel the same way? What if their connection wasn’t as deep as he had hoped? He didn’t want to ruin the comfortable, unspoken bond they’d always had.

But he couldn’t keep standing on the sidelines.

Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself and started walking toward her. With every step, his nerves surged, but he forced himself to stay calm. She didn’t notice him at first, lost in a conversation with one of her friends. But when she glanced up and met his gaze, her expression softened into a smile that made his heart race even more.

“Hey,” he said, trying to sound casual, though his voice betrayed a hint of nervousness.

“Hey,” Mirae replied, her smile widening slightly. “What’s up?”

Mingyu hesitated for a brief second, then shoved his hands into his pockets, trying to appear relaxed. “I was just wondering... Do you want to maybe get out of here? Go for a walk or grab some air?”

Mirae blinked, a little surprised by the sudden offer, but nodded. “Sure, that sounds nice.”

They stepped outside into the cool night air, walking side by side. The sounds of the party faded behind them as they found a quiet spot, away from the crowd. For a while, neither of them spoke. The silence wasn’t awkward, but it was heavy with unspoken words, with things they had yet to say.

Mingyu glanced over at her, noticing how comfortable she seemed despite the quiet. He could feel the words bubbling up inside him, but his nerves kept tugging at him. Still, he knew this was it—if he didn’t say it now, he might never get another chance.

“So, uh... I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” he started, his voice softer now. “For a while, actually.”

Mirae turned to him, curiosity in her eyes. “About what?”

He stopped walking, and she did too, facing him now. He could feel his pulse quicken, but he couldn’t back down. Taking another breath, he finally let it out.

“I’ve liked you... for a long time,” he said, his gaze locking onto hers. “I didn’t know if I should say anything because I didn’t want things to get weird between us, but I can’t keep pretending it’s not there. You don’t have to say anything, and I don’t want you to feel awkward, but... I needed to tell you.”

Mirae’s eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, the world seemed to pause around them. Mingyu’s heart was in his throat as he waited for her reaction, unsure of what would happen next. But then, Mirae’s lips parted, and her expression softened in a way that made his heart skip.

“Mingyu…” she started, her voice barely above a whisper. She looked down, biting her lip as if trying to find the right words. When she finally looked up at him again, her eyes were filled with something tender and real.

“I… I like you too,” she admitted, her voice trembling slightly, but there was no hesitation in her words. “I don’t know when it started, but I’ve been feeling it too. I guess I was just scared… scared to ruin what we have, and maybe scared to admit it to myself.”

Mingyu blinked, a wave of relief and disbelief washing over him. He had spent so long convincing himself that his feelings for her would always be one-sided, that this moment almost felt surreal. “You do?” he asked, his voice quieter now, as if he needed to hear it again, just to make sure.

Mirae nodded, her smile growing a little wider, a little more confident. “Yeah, I do. I guess I’ve been trying to push it down because I’ve been hurt before, you know? After everything… I wasn’t sure if I was ready to feel like this again. But with you…” She paused, taking a deep breath, her eyes never leaving his. “With you, it feels different. I feel safe.”

Mingyu’s heart swelled at her words. All the doubt, all the fear that had been gnawing at him moments before seemed to melt away. He took a step closer to her, his hand instinctively reaching for hers. When their fingers brushed, it felt like everything clicked into place.

“I don’t want to rush you,” he said softly, his voice steady now. “We can take this slow, whatever you need. I just… I’m glad I finally told you.”

Mirae squeezed his hand, a smile playing on her lips as she looked up at him. “I’m glad you did too. I think I’ve been waiting for this, even if I didn’t realize it.”

For a moment, they just stood there, the tension and uncertainty between them replaced by a quiet understanding. The night air wrapped around them, but all Mingyu could feel was the warmth radiating from her. He didn’t know where this would lead or what the future held, but for the first time in a long time, everything felt right.

“I guess we should thank Yugyeom,” Mirae said with a soft laugh, breaking the silence. “He always knows, doesn’t he?”

Mingyu chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, that guy… He’s always been a step ahead of us.” He paused, then added, “But I’m glad he gave me the push I needed.”

Mirae smiled again, her eyes twinkling. “Me too.”

And with that, the weight of their unspoken feelings finally lifted, leaving behind only the thrill of what could be—the beginning of something new.

A/N: I loved incorporating Yugyeom into the story. He’s such a great friend to Mirae!

[thealternateuniverse]

Masterlist (GOT 7)

T-Shirt (Yugyeom x reader)

Hairstyle (Yugyeom x reader)

Devious part 1 (Yugyeom x reader)

You belong with Me (Bambam x reader)

Watch your attitude (Mark x reader)

Must be Nice (Bambam x Reader)

Head Canons

The Charismatic and Chaotic Brothers - Meet the Heirs

The Charismatic and Chaotic Brothers - Marriage Edition

GOT7: The High School Menace Chronicles

Requests

GOT7: The High School Menace Chronicles with an 8th Member