#lee ji an | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sssquiddles · 10 months ago

Text

between the greedy...

He takes just to have and she takes to survive. Or, what happens when two people with their hands in everyone’s pockets have a fateful encounter in the elevator?

My Mister. 7.9k words. Lee Ji-An/Do Jun-Yeong. Angst, implied sexual content, very slight dubcon, romantic tension, oneshot.

Scene 1

Ji-An moved away from the desk, striding slowly around the room as she took it all in—the CEO’s office. It was the first time she’d ever really been in a place this… opulent. It silently whispered power, in the understated gray and dark tones, sleek and modern. It wasn’t throwing money at your face, it was a resigned show of that man’s place in this company, in this world.

She could feel his eyes on the back of her head, waiting for her ultimatum, and she only continued to take in the view, almost with a sense of leisure. She knew she’d be getting something out of this: she’d landed herself a golden goose. For now—she had to be careful, of course. This could either pay off the rest of her debt, or she’d be left in the dirt again.

She’d told herself that she would keep her head down and dutifully, honestly work to pay off the debt. But after she’d had the shit beat out of her again by that bastard, on top of having to pay more debt for her Grandma’s care facility…

Her head turned, and her dark eyes found his, across the room.

“I saw the phone number on your second phone. I saw the same phone number come up under ‘wife’ in Park Dong-Hoon’s phone. Are you dating his wife?”

The statement hung in the air, dissolving into their silent stare. He mulled over her words, what they could spell for him, and she studied the books and soulless knick knacks sitting on the shelves behind him. There wasn’t a single piece of that entire office that felt like it belonged to him. No pictures of family, no candy wrappers to reveal a hidden sweet tooth, nothing but paperwork, and the 2G phone that had landed them both here.

Well, that was one thing, at least.

“You don’t know why she’d been calling me, we’d gone to university together. You can’t prove any of your baseless claims,” Jun-Yeong replied, easily, sitting back in his chair as his shoulders relaxed a little. Wrong move.

Ji-An directed her expressionless gaze back on the young CEO, studying his face, his posture, the way his hand still hovered protectively over the 2G phone. The littlest crumble in his otherwise solid stone defense, the perfect place to start to dig.

“Why would you date a middle aged woman, anyway?” she went on to ask, as if he hadn’t spoken in the first place. Her tone, casual. Far too casual to be regarding the CEO with, but it was obvious that she had very little regard for those others deemed more worthy of respect. “Isn’t she… old? Or is she pretty?”

Pause. No answer. He only stared at her, but the muscle in his hand that hovered near the phone flexed. Protective.

“She must be pretty. Far too pretty for you to pretend.”

“What do you want? Money?” Jun-Yeong asked, his tone rising as anger started to fester within him. His defense, crumbling. Crumbled.

“I can get Park Dong-Un and Park Dong-Hoon fired. You saw how swift and skillful I am already. 10,000,000 won for one, 10,000,000 for the other…”

Scene 2

It was easy, too easy to dispose of Park Dong-Un. He was higher up than Park Dong-Hoon, of course, the higher they stand, the harder they fall. After the issue she’d had leaving a tapping device in his office, Ji-An had thought and prepared for more road bumps after that, but their scheme had gone off without a hitch.

Drugged and driven towards the seaside, right before a huge deal between their company and another from overseas. He’d appeared to have fumbled hard, been demoted, and sent to the company’s office in Busan.

He wasn’t disposed off entirely cleanly—he was fighting against the punishment, the supposed fuck-up, of course, they always did. People who had never lost anything always floundered when presented with the fear of losing everything. They realize how much they’d taken for granted, how much they stand to lose.

Ji-An, she was used to losing. Losing, and losing, and losing. She was done drowning in the hole she’d been left in outside of her control. She’d take control.

She was a little more careful with Park Dong-Hoon, she’d build it up a little slower. The listening device on his phone made it easier to plan ahead, to cover her own tracks.

“You moved recklessly. Park Dong-Un has never had an alcohol related incident.” Jun-Yeong pressed, his voice low, dangerous. The tour guide that they both happened to be ‘listening to’ (public, inconspicuous place) droned on undisturbed in the background.

“What incidents has he had, then?” Ji-An retorted, and the young CEO fell silent. Trumped, again. It was obvious how infuriated that made him—that this little cockroach could leave him speechless in such a way.

“Do not move without my word. Report to me before you move on with the plan,” he said, pressing a thick envelope into her hand. Gift vouchers, paid for with cash. She glanced through the bills, counting.

“I’ve already started to work on Park Dong-Hoon,” Ji-An replied, glancing up at his profile, noting the way his jaw set. “I’ve got a picture of us kissing, already put up on a gossiping forum that an indiscreet employee frequents. It’ll spread, slowly, and then you can get him fired for sexual misconduct with a younger employee.”

He’d started to go on about how they couldn’t both fall at once, it’d be obvious that someone was scheming, that he’d be behind it—and he seemed angry about this plan. Why? It was solid, and there were already people who had seen Park Dong-Hoon interacting with her somewhat suspiciously before this entire plot had hatched.

Ji-An couldn’t care less about their corporate politics, his fine balanced plan. He wanted them both fired, she’d get them both fired, what about that didn’t he understand?

He looked down at her. She hated the way he looked at her—looking down on her like every other person in her life ever had. She’d been called shameless. She was shameless, she acted so. But there was still something in there, something that festered when she felt that stare on her.

“I’m adding to our agreement,” she muttered, as she turned to walk off, bumping her shoulder against his. “Buy me dinner for every day that this plot drags on.”

She didn’t wait for his response, or confirmation. She held the cards, the evidence, the ticket that could punch his downfall. He just didn’t realize that yet. He’d learn.

Scene 3

Ji-An ate silently and efficiently. She’d looked around the private room before they’d sat down, nodding as she deemed it exactly as expensive as she’d expected. It far exceeded the place that Dong-Hoon had taken her to when she’d demanded something fancy before. The taste of the side dishes was beyond anything her pallet was used to, almost cringing away from the rich, understated flavors. She’d never be disrespectful towards food (especially considering the fact that she was used to eating scraps from her second job), but there was something unbeatable about the greasier, cheaper food that she was more accustomed to.

Jun-Yeong cleared his throat, and she felt his eyes on her as he haltingly poured himself a drink from the ceramic decanter of soju, as if he wasn’t used to the motion.

What respect was she meant to give him, when she knew of the horrible person simmering beneath his pleasant outer shell? As if.

She poured herself a little soju, sipping it with a cheekful of beef and some sparse, vinegar-y salad. She would eat until she physically couldn’t anymore.

“Do you have anything else to report?” Jun-Yeong asked, after he’d slowly chewed on a small bit of beef, patting his lips with a cloth napkin.

She raised her head to meet his eyes, slowing her own chewing for a moment as she rolled over the last few days of conversation that she’d heard.

This was only the second time he’d taken her out for dinner per their agreement, and the comfort level of their meetings had never changed. Stiff, cold. She didn’t mind it, as Ji-An thoroughly detested the idea of cozying up to this scum sucking greedy dog of a man.

“Dong-Hoon knows you’ve done something to him,” Ji-An finally replied, staring ahead at him as she took another drink of the expensive soju.

Jun-Yeong shifted forward a little, incredulous that she’d kept that from him—that she hadn’t immediately spilled the details of what exactly that ‘something’ was.

“In a conversation, he’d said… sometime around last Spring, you’d greeted him in a friendly manner, and he knew just then that you’d done something to him,” she finally recounted, her hand moving towards the bottle of soju to pour herself another glass—Jun-Yeong reached out to stop her, grabbing her wrist.

“What exactly? Did he say he knew what?” the young CEO pressed, giving her wrist a squeeze with a surprisingly warm hand, before he realized what he was doing and detached from her, sitting back down and smoothing out his tie.

Ji-An only stared at him, anger simmering under the surface of her frigid expression.

“No,” she replied, finishing the motion to grab the ceramic decanter again, filling her small glass once more. “You’re not as discreet as you must think you are.”

“What’s more indiscreet than the CEO meeting up with a temporary worker for dinner every night?” Jun-Yeong scoffed, as if the hypocrite sitting in the room was her.

“What’s more indiscreet than fucking your subordinate’s wife?” Ji-An mumbled under her breath, taking another large bite of rice and meat.

Jun-Yeong slammed his cup down on the table, though the girl in front of him didn’t even flinch, casually dragging her gaze up to meet his, something mocking in her expression. Something that said, ‘going to throw a fit because I’m right?’

A muscle in his jaw twitched as he set it, staring into her eyes. Her dark, cold, defiant eyes.

She looked down at him.

She ate like she was starving, like she’d never see food again, she was shameless, poor, a temporary worker, she worked recklessly without polish, and she didn’t know that she was supposed to pour her senior their drink—and yet she had the gall to look down on him.

She was infuriating.

But he couldn’t deny that above all else, Ji-An made his heart race.

Scene 4

Ji-An stared into his face as the recording played out, Park Dong-Hoon covering up the affair to Park Dong-Un. She could see the gears turning, the slight quirk in his brow as he realized—his ass was covered. Dong-Hoon had too much pride to reveal that that punk had been fucking his wife. She skipped ahead, later into the day, to him getting the phone booth that number was connected to removed entirely.

Once it was done, she shifted a little in the seat of Jun-Yeong’s car, putting her phone away as she let her eyes sweep over the interior. It felt and looked brand new, and that festering resentment pooled in her stomach again. She just wanted his money and to get this over with.

“It’s over, then. You can’t fire Park Dong-Hoon. Are we going to end this now?” she’d asked, eyebrows raised ever so slightly, expectantly. She couldn’t genuinely say she was as detached from it all as she was before—this wasn’t some random salaryman who lived well off and could handle being put out, it was… someone like her. She felt bad at the thought of ruining his life.

“Keep listening further. He may get drunk and reveal something else. Report to me if he does,” Jun-Yeong commanded, holding her gaze.

Ji-An took pause—hadn’t she done enough? “You really want me to keep spending my time listening to this guy talk?”

Jun-Yeong didn’t break her gaze as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a thick envelope full of bills, holding it out to her. “1,000,000 a week. I know you need the money,” his lip curled in a sneer, something he didn’t allow to happen often, as much as the urge clearly struck him.

Ji-An’s eye contact was unwavering as she took the envelope, something… horrible festering within her. She didn’t want to be a part of this damn plot anymore, she wanted to leave Dong-Hoon alone.

Silence, gazes holding. Ji-An’s heart was pounding in her chest—anger? Something near despair? Or was it because of the fact that no matter how terrible the man in front of her was, it didn’t change the fact that he held an unspoken allure. She hated him, she hated him almost as much as she hated that other punk in her life, but this one had never raised a hand to her. Their ‘relationship’ as it stood was transactional, and he probably hated her as much as she did him. She was the only one in all of the other people he interacted with who knew everything.

Suddenly, she felt some… urge. Something that had come from the same place as the urge to kiss Dong-Hoon had (besides needing a picture for their ‘scandal’). Would it feel different, to kiss the source of Dong-Hoon’s despair? To press her lips against those of a man who made more money than she could truly conceptualize? Would that make her as bad as him, or was she already down in that despicable pit beside him, and that was why she felt the urge at all?

Two despicable, greedy, immoral people sitting in a car, staring at the disgusting reflections of themselves.

Ji-An immediately tore her eyes away from his, busying herself with looking inside the envelope to count what was inside, turning her body to make for the door—she needed to get the hell away from him.

“Hey,” he called, stopping her from escaping. “If you’ve been listening to him then you must have also known that we got into a fight.”

Ji-An slid her gaze back over towards him. “If you could call that a fight,” she replied. “He just beat you up.”

Jun-Yeong’s jaw set, and she was starting to love the sight of it. Pissing him off, knowing that he wasn’t the type to actually get physical, only ever threatened it.

“Why didn’t you say anything, then?”

“Maybe I just wanted to spare you the humiliation,” Ji-An countered, raising a brow.

Jun-Yeong pressed his lips together, adjusting his hand on the steering wheel, as he looked out the windshield, and Ji-An could feel an ounce of pride bubbling up in her chest. She got to humiliate him a little in the end.

“I see,” he’d said, glancing at the clock on his dashboard. “Don’t leave the car. I’ll just take you back to the hotel for dinner. It’ll be more discreet than dining in public.”

Ji-An took her hand off of the door handle, settling back into the leather seat, her only confirmation that she was on-board with the plan. He pushed to start the car again, setting his hand on the gearshift as he effortlessly guided the car back into traffic, headed down the bridge back towards the hotel he kept booked for his visits with Yun-Hui.

The girl furrowed her brow after a moment as she glanced at him, her eyes tracing over his profile.

“Wouldn’t Park Dong-Hoon’s wife still be there?”

Jun-Yeong scoffed, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. “You really believe I’d take you back there if I thought she was there? I told her to go home after you texted me. I knew whatever you had to say would certainly kill the mood for the night, and I was right.”

Ji-An gave a half nod, accepting that much, though she couldn’t help the uncomfortable feeling that settled under her skin as they drew nearer and nearer to ground zero of this entire affair. She should have exited the car when she had the chance, gone to bed hungry, at least that would have given herself time to reflect on the disgusting urge she still had to kiss him. Just to see what it’d feel like—just a peck.

Still, she kept her body angled forward, accepting the black hat he’d stuffed over her head as she pulled a paper mask on to cover her face when they’d pulled up to the parking garage. They exited and she walked right alongside him as they moved into the hotel, in the empty elevator, up to his suite.

She took the hat and mask off when the door locked behind him, her eyes scanning the dimly lit room as if she expected someone (Yun-Hui? Dong-Hoon? The police?) to jump out at her. The lights were set to low, and a record continued to spin on the player, the notes of some slow jazz filling the empty space. A bottle of wine sat open, two used glasses standing beside it on the table.

Jun-Yeong corked the bottle and moved the glasses to grab the room service menu they’d been sitting on, stuffing it in her hands. “Just circle what you want, I’ll call it in.” he muttered, shedding his coat and scarf to hand up on the rack.

Ji-An bit her lip, looking over the menu as she pulled out a pen to circle the most filling side dishes, before she handed it back to him and sat down on the sofa.

“What’s that song?” she asked, unable to stand the silence for once.

Jun-Yeong looked over the menu, putting together his own meal as he absently replied, “you wouldn’t know it.”

Ji-An resisted the new urge to roll her eyes as she drifted over towards the record player, picking up the empty sleeve that the record had come from, reading over the titles.

“You met up with his wife tonight even after he told you to stop,” Ji-An commented, shifting to turn to look at him, where he now occupied the spot on the couch that she had abandoned. “Wouldn’t it have been easier to break up with her before it came to this point? Isn’t… wasn’t it riskier to date a married woman, with the position you were in? Is she that charming?”

“You don’t know anything,” Jun-Yeong scoffed, lip curled in that familiar sneer of a smile. “Married women are the safest choice for men like me. They won’t babble about the relationship. Discreet.” He looked over at her when he’d said that, as if that had become one of their buzzwords. She supposed it had. “And I can’t just break things off, not this suddenly. She’d ask questions, get to the root of it, and eventually it would break the agreement Park Dong-Hoon and I have. A man like that… the most important part is saving his pride, pretending nothing happened and letting things go back to normal when this is all over.”

Ji-An went quiet for a second, and the record spun out, dropping them into silence again. She moved to carefully lift the needle and then stop the record from spinning before she lifted it from the track and placed it back in its sleeve. She flicked through the other records, selecting one with a song she recognized and setting it on the player once more, gently placing the needle back on the record. An old blues song began to drift from the player, one she distantly remembered her grandmother liking, because of the way the low vibrations of the bass could be felt, even if it couldn’t be heard.

“How unfair to Yun-Hui, to be reduced to just being a discreet pastime,” she murmured, in that tone where she was just saying it outloud, uncaring if she was heard, or if what she said offended the other party.

She turned towards the CEO, the low murmur of his voice speaking into the hotel phone as he ordered their dinner. He’d discarded his tie and undone the top button of his shirt, the most casual she was sure she’d ever seen him—it seemed as though this hotel room was the only place he could relax like that, even if someone like her was invading the space.

He’d poured some amber colored drink into a crystal glass, which he swirled around before he took a sip and set the phone down, looking up at her as if he’d just registered that she was still there—or that it was her there, and not Yun-Hui.

“You still hold feelings for her. You don’t want to break up and let things ‘go back to normal’.” Ji-An challenged, stuffing her hands in the pockets of her oversized coat.

Jun-Yeong hated the feeling of being seen, she could tell. She could tell from the very first time they’d interacted, in his office, he hated having his protective layers peeled back and exposed. She was the same, and it was why she knew that pointing it out to him like that would make his skin crawl.

“The only feelings I hold are the desire for convenience,” Jun-Yeong replied, staring reproachfully up at the girl who threatened his peaceful existence.

“Any other woman could be convenient and discreet. I’d heard you, her, and Dong-Hoon were in a club together. Have you pined after her for all of these years? Just to watch her end up with the pitiful Dong-Hoon? I’ll bet it kills you that she chose him when you were younger, more successful. That she still loves him more than she’ll love y-”

Jun-Yeong grabbed her face, the vein in his forehead popping out as he leaned forward—and Ji-An genuinely wasn’t sure when he had moved, crossed the room. She stared defiantly up at him, jutting her chin out. He wouldn’t hit her, she knew he wouldn’t, but she readied herself for the possibility, that she’d truly pushed the young CEO that far, to hit her-

His lips pressed against her’s, as hard as he held her face in his hand. It wasn’t a peck, soft and hesitant like the one she’d given to Dong-Hoon, it was angry and all-consuming. She could taste the bourbon on his lips, in his breath as his mouth opened to deepen the kiss.

Ji-An was frozen in place, her hands were still in her pockets for fuck’s sake.

Was this how Dong-Hoon felt, when she’d kissed him? Attacked?

Jun-Yeong ripped himself away, panting softly as he glared down at her like she was something he’d just scraped from the bottom of his shoe.

She stumbled a little, lifting her fingers to her lips, which were reddened and glistening now. Her heart pounded in her ears, and she didn’t know if she wanted to shove him away and run, or grab him by the shirt and drag him in to feel that again- to feel something again.

Sense won over, as she gave his chest a hard shove and immediately ran out of the room, grabbing the hat he’d given her on the way and stuffing it onto her head before she slammed the door behind her.

She lost herself as she ran, tuning out the shouts of the hotel staff as she burst through the lobby, out the doors and into the cold night, she let her legs carry her far, far away from that man, that man who terrified her. He made her heart pound, he’d made her so angry that the feeling returned to her long-numb limbs and God, that nearly petrified her.

Somewhere along the way she’d had the sense to stuff her headphones into her ears, listening to the soft jostling and breathing of the man whose life she was attached to now, like a damn parasite.

His soft warm voice that could calm her down from the heights that that damn Jun-Yeong had thrown her into.

And somewhere along the way, her legs carried her all the way to the bar where they’d shared a meal once, bursting through the door and laying eyes on him, Park Dong-Hoon, and she allowed her body to fizzle back out into a comfortable numbness as he offered to let her sit down with him, share a drink and some side dishes.

And she made the decision to stay on his side, for the rest of this damned plot.

Scene 5

Days passed with no contact. Things fell, separately. Ji-An took initiative and made Yun-Hui listen to the recording she’d taken of Jun-Yeong calling her convenient, and judging from the way things began to settle, Dong-Hoon’s wife must have broken things off. Painfully.

Part of Ji-An was disappointed that she didn’t get to listen to it happen, what words she’d said to put him in his place, because the day after it was very obvious that she had. At least, to one as observant as Ji-An.

Then, she couldn’t focus on him, due to her own life getting in the way—that man getting a hold of Dong-Hoon’s wallet, finding out finally where she worked, getting real evidence that the money she was handing in to him every month wasn’t clean.

And she felt numb. Angry, but numb. It was better this way, until things were better for her and her grandmother, she needed to remain numb.

Then, a text message.

Come out.

He didn’t look at her as he passed, just as her phone dinged with the message. He knew she’d follow.

And she did.

Ji-An stepped into the bar, feeling that familiar twinge of un-belonging. Like she was stepping foot in a place she wasn’t allowed to be—not that that ever stopped her, but still, it gave her enough pause for him to turn and catch her eye, motioning with his head for her to sit down.

Neither of them acknowledged the kiss they shared as she shed her coat and sat down in the plush leather barstool beside him, accepting the drink he poured for her. Like they were friends, or something. He must not care anymore about being seen—or he preferred to be in public so they wouldn’t end up in the same position that they had last time.

They talked, his tone remained neutral, but he didn’t look at her much, not until his proposition.

“Date him,” he’d said, turning his head to finally make eye contact, as he slid a thick envelope towards her, before he paused and placed it right in her bag. Non-negotiable. “10,000,000, in advance. I won’t fire him right away, just date him.”

Something in his eyes simmered, angry, disgusted. It mirrored her own expression.

“What are you paying me in advance for? What should I do? Throw myself at him, naked?” Ji-An retorted, incredulous, though she didn’t move the money from where it sat in her bag.

Jun-Yeong scoffed, looking away. “That would freak him out. Fucking wuss,” he muttered under his breath, glancing at her again as if imagining that much, and Ji-An felt her muscles tense with the urge to stab her fingers into his eyes. Her heart raced, and her skin tingled. Hatred.

“You have him wired and tapped, just… show up where he is, make it seem natural. Go out with him for food and drinks, that’s as good as dating,” Jun-Yeong continued, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Ji-An was silent, her brain rolling over his words—the fact that she and Dong-Hoon already had gone out multiple times for food and drink. “Eating and drinking… that means he likes me?” she asked, what should have been an innocent question falling flat with her tone, as if she didn’t believe him—didn’t want to believe him.

“Yes,” he’d replied, shaking his head. “Of course it does. What man eats and drinks with a woman he doesn’t like?” Jun-Yeong replied with a soft scoff, as he turned his head to take a drink, feeling her burning, hating gaze on the side of his face.

What is this, then? Ji-An wanted to scream, as she finally caught his side eye, and the way his eyebrows raised.

“Don’t a lot of men do that when they want something from someone?” Ji-An said instead, staring right into his eyes.

Jun-Yeong held her gaze for a beat, another, letting the seconds pass as the weight of tension settled over them, and for a moment, Ji-An was afraid he’d kiss her again. Make her feel what it felt to be consumed again.

The young CEO turned his head away, setting his jaw. “Dong-Hoon isn’t like that. If he’s eating and drinking with you, it means he likes you.”

“Because he’s a good man,” Ji-An said, finished for him, even though she knew he’d never add that.

Scene 6

Ji-An kept her head low, the black ball cap she’d taken Jun-Yeong hiding most of her features, as she rang the doorbell to his home. She glanced around inconspicuously and didn’t notice anything particular, but she still wanted to be at least a little careful.

For as much as she truly hoped this damned plot fell down around Jun-Yeong, the rat bastard, she didn’t want to be called out for being sloppy on purpose. She had that money she still had to earn, despite the fact that it had already been sent to the debt collectors.

Once she was done with this, she’d truly be free.

The door unlocked and she was allowed in, taking at least a moment to look around and take in his home. It was just like his office, cold and sleek modern, with no personal touches besides… a drum set, she could barely see, upstairs. Did he actually play that? She couldn’t imagine Jun-Yeong in anything but stiff business attire, and imagining him in that and playing the drums was… harrowing. Imagining him in casual clothes was just impossible. It had to have been just for decoration.

Ji-An set down the takeout she’d brought as her cover for showing up to his house, removing her bag and sitting down, wasting no time in opening up the box of food and taking some.

Jun-Yeong only stared over at her, glancing down at his phone before he spoke.

“Dong-Hoon didn’t show up for work today, why?”

“I made a move on him, so he ran away,” Ji-An replied quietly, munching on her food. She didn’t meet Jun-Yeong’s eyes, feeling a well of shame bubbling up in her. “I told him I like him. He hit me.”

“Show me the recording,” Jun-Yeong replied immediately, and Ji-An stopped chewing, finally dragging her gaze up towards him. Her heart pounded so hard she could feel it in her ears, as she took a long moment to pull out her phone and find the recording. She set the device on the table as she pressed play, sitting back down in the chair she claimed, tugging the brim of the hat back down over her eyes as she resumed eating while the recording played out.

Her, screaming at Dong-Hoon, demanding that he hit her to knock some sense into her, that she liked him and she couldn’t stand it-

Jun-Yeong’s eyes burned into her skull as she slowly began to lose her appetite, rehashing a genuinely vulnerable moment. His concentration on her, her shame, waned only as he got up to pour himself a drink, returning with an even greater intensity as the audio continued.

Then it ended, and Ji-An silently moved to collect her phone, keeping her head down.

The young CEO continued to stare, something hateful in his gaze.

“How peculiar,” was all he said at first, taking a long drink from his glass, gaze never wavering. “I don’t understand what it is women like about Dong-Hoon,” he said the name slowly, like he was sick of repeating it. “Men have never found him very impressive.”

He paused. No answer.

“You may as well tell me- why do you like him? Hm?”

Ji-An set her jaw, rolling over what answer she could possibly give him- would she be honest? That she thought he was going to save her- that she didn’t think anything of him at first, and now… Now she had someone she was actually, genuinely thankful towards.

Or would she be more honest than that? Would she be as honest as she needed to be towards herself?

“I… just want to ruin him.” Her own eyes moved to burn into his gaze in return, her nails digging into her palm. Hatred ate at her—at herself, at the man in front of her, at Dong-Hoon for being so goddamn pathetic and weak-willed. “Whenever I see a kind person, I just want to hurt them and make them cry…” she shook her head a little, setting her jaw again, feeling uncomfortable in his presence, that all-consuming feeling that arose right before she got hit, when she started to run her mouth knowing what was going to come afterwards. “I just want to ruin them. Maybe so I can twist them into someone like mmh-”

He’d moved, grabbing her by the face and leaning in, knocking the hat off of her head as he forced his lips against her’s. Self-hatred had completely consumed Ji-An by now, as her eyes closed and she actually allowed herself to feel the kiss this time. She had shed her morals at the door, anyway, walking into the den of this beast. She was going to ruin the life of the one man who had ever done her right, she might as well let herself waste away into the monster she knew she’d always be at her core.

His hands were hot against her skin, fingers soft from lack of work- it disgusted her. It disgusted her how much she liked the feeling. The idea that planted itself in her head—that she could just leverage this against him, she could be the wretch that stayed with Do Jun-Yeong, to keep herself from ruining Dong-Hoon any further, to keep Jun-Yeong from Yun-Hui for good. She could let herself fall forever if it meant lifting Dong-Hoon out of that pit he’s ended up in.

Maybe it was because he hadn’t seen Yun-Hui in so long, between regular frustration and sexual frustration, Jun-Yeong was practically ravenous, lips burning against her’s. He dragged her onto the couch with him, wasting no time in shedding their clothes…

…

Jun-Yeong took a long drink from his glass of bourbon, half covered with a throw-blanket as he stretched out on the couch, clear satisfaction and… something near triumph on his lips as they curled into that sneer of a smile, his eyes following Ji-An as she drew her clothes back on.

“I’ll sleep with Dong-Hoon,” she said, quietly, buttoning up her denim shirt, keeping her eyes on each new article of clothing she had to redress in, rather than acknowledging the way his eyes followed each of her movements.

“Oh yeah? How?” Jun-Yeong mused. “You think he’ll really sleep with you?”

“I’ll spike his drink,” Ji-An replied, pressing her lips together, as she stood up and drew that black hat back over her hair, barely meeting his eyes under the brim of the hat. “He won’t weasel his way out. Then, this is over.”

And with that, she left.

Scene 7

Ji-An told herself that was it—that would be it, that one mistake would be the threshold of how far she could push her self-loathing.

Therefore, she didn’t expect to end up back here.

Ji-An had been walking back to her home, earbuds in and listening, always listening, just to the soft jostling and breathing from Dong-Hoon’s phone. It was comforting—it made her feel as though he was with her, that she wasn’t… completely alone.

And then Dong-Hoon had gotten home, and his wife had arrived soon after. Awkward silence led into halted conversation, and then they were fighting—and Ji-An’s heart squeezed so painfully that her feet carried her… here. An early spring shower had soaked her through her oversized jacket, she looked wet and pathetic standing on Jun-Yeong’s doorstep, but it was either here or it was Dong-Hoon’s home and she knew she couldn’t do that to Dong-Hoon.

She didn’t try to leave immediately when they finished this time—soaking up the feeling of laying in as soft and expensive of a bed as Jun-Yeong’s. Silk sheets, memory foam, some kind of extensive back support. It was so clean and neat that it made her feel even dirtier by comparison, as she stared up at the ceiling, her heart pounding in her chest.

And the smell was almost overwhelming, it had to be his cologne or his own natural scent, because it permeated the sheets, duvet, even the pillow. Deep, rich, and musky, with a hint of some kind of spice.

He took a drink from a short glass of bourbon, apparently his drink of choice when dealing with her, as wine seemed to be his drink of choice when dealing with Yun-Hui. Different spirits for different souls.

The glass that Ji-An was vaguely aware of from the sound of the man beside her suddenly swam into view, as he even held it out for her. She looked over at him—he wasn’t offering her a glass, he was offering her his glass, eyebrows raised. Ji-An took it, taking a long, long drink and letting the rich alcohol warm her body and numb the ache in her chest.

She handed it back to him, seeing amusement dancing in his eyes. It made something in her edgy, stiff body begin to relax—or maybe that was just the alcohol. And maybe it was the alcohol that had made him look at her differently—and take her much… more softly. He didn’t treat her like he was blowing off steam, like he had the first time. He’d held her, brought her to those heights, dragging it out like he’d actually wanted her to enjoy it. And she did. And she hated that she did.

Ji-An let her gaze linger on his profile—for as awful of a person he was, she couldn’t deny that he had a pretty face. You wouldn’t have been able to tell that he was only a few years younger than Dong-Hoon, as a lack of wrinkles or marks very clearly showed a life carrying very little strife. And, she understood to some degree why Yun-Hui had carried on with him for so long—for all of Jun-Yeong’s shortcomings in character, he was… really good in bed. The first time had only been a short, fast taste of exactly what he could do (and clearly good enough for her to end up back in his arms), and this time… he’d really taken his time. He made her realize exactly why other adults did all they could to end up in this place, why sex was regarded as a stress relief—because for the first time in weeks she was able to keep her head in the same place the rest of her body was.

She wished things weren’t as complicated as they were—wishing that she’d met Dong-Hoon under different circumstances, that Jun-Yeong wasn’t such a deplorable man outside of this bedroom.

Ji-An couldn’t believe that she actually understood that disgraceful, cheating woman Dong-Hoon had called a wife. Jun-Yeong felt like an escape, his bedroom a place to pretend that nothing bad was happening beyond its walls.

“If this is going to happen again, let’s just meet up at the hotel. ‘Discreet’ does not mean showing up at my door like a drenched cat,” Jun-Yeong mused, passing the glass over to her again.

Ji-An let the silence stretch as she took another drink before handing it back. “You think this will happen again?”

Jun-Yeong slid his gaze over towards her, as he set his glass on the nightstand and twisted back over towards her, covering her frame with his body, hand resting on the mattress right by her head.

“Won’t it?” the man replied, that same sneer of a grin curled into his lips, which hovered right over her’s.

Ji-An felt like she’d had a second chance dangled in front of her—he hadn’t kissed her yet, he was leaving it for her to finish, to kiss him. She could pull away, she could convince herself that she was better than this, that she didn’t deserve to lay in the pit of snakes anymore…

She leaned forward, letting her lips softly press against Jun-Yeong’s, savoring the softness in the feeling, the way it made her breath catch in her throat. Her arms slithered around his neck, pulling him in a little harder as his hands began to roam her scarred body for the second time that night.

Something died in her that night, and something else came to life, a seedling of something near affection being planted in her chest. It was a disgusting feeling, to feel softly towards such an awful man, but he’d played with her heart with the same skilled hands that cradled her body. Some things were impossible to resist, and Ji-An was finding that out for herself firsthand…

Scene 8

Soon, everything was resolved, wrapped up with a neat bow—in the end, anyway.

Ji-An had, of course, ran away from Seoul for a few weeks. She struggled with her feelings towards Dong-Hoon, towards Jun-Yeong. Everything fell apart, Dong-Hoon had found out she had been listening to him, her best friend and partner in crime had been arrested, Jun-Yeong was going to pin everything on her, and worst of all, the truth of it all—Yun-Hui’s affair with Jun-Yeong—was in danger of being revealed.

But… it was all resolved. Dong-Hoon convinced her to come home, he and his wife had agreed to just come clean about the affair, and the files for all of the recordings had been anonymously left on Dong-Hoon’s desk, providing the fuel to get Jun-Yeong fired for good.

Life had its ups and downs after that point—Ji-An got to have dinner with the chairman, and was given a wonderful job in a company owned by the chairman’s friend, in Busan. A place far enough away that she could start over…

She had to leave behind the one-room apartment that she’d had so many memories in, she had to leave Ki-Beom behind, practically her punk of a little brother, and parting from Dong-Hoon hadn’t been easy.

Ji-An really hadn’t seen Jun-Yeong again in all of that time, not since that last day at the police station, before they’d gotten the proof that he had started all of this.

Tearing into him had been satisfying, and Ji-An had no regrets as to where they’d left things. Jun-Yeong was a deplorable, greedy man who deserved to face the consequences of his actions.

She only wished she could have been there when the evidence had been dropped in front of him…

But instead, her life had moved on. With a great job hours away from Seoul, and little-to-no contact with the people she’d left behind, gradually the emotions and memories centered around that bustling city began to fade.

The secrets she kept closest to her heart gradually relaxed—even to the point where she’d revealed her brief affair with the CEO to her friends one night when they’d been drinking. A few too many bottles of soju deep and they’d all been going around spilling their most embarrassing moments, and when it came to Ji-An’s turn…

“I-” Ji-An hiccuped, and the table of girls burst into giggles. It was the first time she’d been drunk like this in a long time, drunk enough to let go. “I slept with my boss at my old job.”

The table of girls had squealed, before shifting into almost offended overlapping retorts-

“That’s not embarrassing, that’s amazing!”

“How is that embarrassing?? Was he ugly?”

“I wish I could sleep with my boss-”

Ji-An covered her mouth to stifle her own laugh, waving her hand at her friends. Their reactions had been incredulous, but it filled her with warmth. It had become something she could laugh at.

“He was really handsome,” Ji-An admitted, feeling the weight in her chest lessen just a little more. That she could finally admit to it at all, that she could finally talk about it.

“He was a horrible man, though, he’d had an affair with one of his subordinates’ wife, and tried to get that employee fired… Among other things,” Her eyes closed and she let out the most despairing sigh, “Worst of all, he was really good in bed.”

Her friends burst into laughter, and the conversation moved on to the next girl (who revealed that she’d once been so drunk while trying to hook up that she threw up on the guy), and Ji-An smiled and quietly looked down at her glass. Maybe tomorrow she’d feel guilty about revealing a bit of Dong-Hoon’s story, or embarrassed about revealing her own sin, but right now all she could feel was the warmth of the bubble she’d finally allowed herself to grow comfortable in.

That had been the last time she’d really thought about Jun-Yeong, and all of that business. That night had cemented him in her mind as just something bad that had happened to her, one little mistake she’d made that didn’t carry as much weight as she’d once convinced herself that it had. The feelings she’d once had for him were safely locked away in the recesses of her heart.

And then, a little more than a year later, as the cherry blossoms heralded spring, Ji-An had moved back to Seoul. She’d been offered a higher position at the Seoul office, and… in a sign of real growth, she’d actually hesitated a little. The pay and hours would have been better than what she was getting in Busan, with more opportunity for advancement, something she would have taken in a heartbeat back when she was struggling, but…

Ji-An had so many memories in Seoul. Some were so happy they made her heart ache painfully, and others were so painful it made her throat close.

After thinking hard on it, eventually she’d taken the position, and moved her life back over to that city. She didn’t wander the streets of Hugye hoping to run into Dong-Hoon, as much as she wished to, for a childish fear of upsetting him in some way…

Ji-An had been chatting amicably with her new coworkers as they waited for their coffee order. She had another errand to run in the area before she could return to the office with them, so she broke off as soon as they’d each gotten their orders.

Leaving the coffee shop, she looked out at the old, familiar streets, letting out a deep breath. She’d already been back for a month, and things were settling comfortably. She hadn’t run into anyone she knew, she’d managed to keep herself from trolling around Hugye in a nostalgic haze, and things were going well at her new job.

She walked with her head held high, long ponytail swinging with her steps. She felt good, warmth becoming a new normal for her.

A little lost in her thoughts, her shoulder had lightly bumped into that of a salaryman’s, and she’d turned her head and bowed it quickly in apology without thinking—before she took in a deep whiff of a very familiar, rich and spicy scent, her eyes flicking from the ground into the eyes of the last man she could have prepared to see again…

Former CEO Do Jun-Yeong.

#my writing #my mister #lee ji an #do jun yeong #fanfic #i dont even know if anyone still cares about this show BUT I DO!!!#I DO!!!

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