weakformingyu

[weakformingyu]

This fic is SO good, omg

The build up? The story? Sunghoon? 💯/10

big, bad boss | p. sunghoon

pairing: boss! sunghoon x fem. reader genre: smut, enemies to fwbs to (?) wc: 23k+ summary: You can handle Park Sunghoon’s insults, his impossible standards, even his hands all over you after hours. What you can’t handle? The possibility that the man you swore to never fall for might just be the only one you can’t let go of. content warnings: toxic sunghoon!! he’s so controlling in this but it’s hot so he gets a pass (from me). unprotected sex, public sex, angry sex, hate sex, desk sex, bathroom sex, basically ALL the sex lol. oral (fem receiving), fingering, use of sex toys, power imbalance, dom/sub dynamics, a little bit of humiliation kink, dirty talk, jealousy, possessiveness, slight dubcon (consensual but power-imbalanced). enemies-to-fwb-to-lovers. emotional constipation from literally everyone. cat mom reader & (eventually) cat dad sunghoon. brief pregnancy scare. pls do not look for healthy boundaries or communication in this fic, this is pure office filth. a bit of domestic vibes at the end. a/n: first sunghoon fic WHEW. this one’s been simmering for a while guys. literally came to me while watching the no doubt mv, i was like fawk he looks way too good in a suit… i need him in an office setting immediately. disclaimer: the way i write him here is absolutely not how i think he is irl. the only accurate thing is him being a neat freak lol. oh, and me calling him handsome 28473 times because… well, he is. anyways!! pls pls pls lmk what you think 🥺 and THANK YOU for all the love on my previous fic, the new follows, the asks—everything!!! *sends one million flying kisses through your screen*

Becoming important at a job you despise is… well, it’s definitely not a good feeling.

You're reminded of this unfortunate fact every single day at your corporate job, where even though the paycheck is attractive, you're constantly drowning under the immense pressure exerted by your jerk of a boss.

Park Sunghoon has exactly one redeeming quality and that is his stupidly handsome face. But everything else about him is so rotten, you can't even enjoy glancing at his perfect features without a bitter feeling pooling deep in your stomach, similar to the one you get moments before hurling.

You might be wondering what exactly he did to warrant this hatred. The better question would be, what hasn't he done? From your very first week, Sunghoon was a complete asshole who had you running to the bathroom in tears after he openly called your work "uninspired garbage" a "colossal waste of time," and even claimed that hiring someone so inexperienced was an insult to the company's standards.

Funnily enough, you managed to climb the ranks within just one year and found yourself working directly under him. Though you couldn't even celebrate your promotion because being closer to Sunghoon only multiplied your misery. It was safe to say your life was one big ball of stress thanks to him. 

So to cope you developed a rigorous self-care routine which consisted of pilates, drinking only decaffeinated beverages, attending overpriced meditation sessions, and even trying acupuncture.

But your favorite method to decompress involved channeling your frustrations toward the subject of all your afflictions. Sometimes that included taping his picture onto a punching bag and going absolutely feral.

Unfortunately (and embarrassingly) for you, not all your tension was purely angry…

Even if it hurt your soul to admit it your boss was exactly your type physically. Like, why the hell was he always scowling when he literally had the face of an angel? Really, nobody could blame you if your pent-up anger occasionally morphed into sexual frustration.

And yeah, you dealt with that too. Usually with your hands…and your collection of sex toys.

Which was exactly why you found yourself standing awkwardly in a discreet adult shop tucked away in the wealthier part of the city. You chose it because it was the farthest possible distance from your neighborhood, drastically reducing the chance of running into any nosy neighbors.

You shuffled curiously through the aisles, giggling at the sheer size of some toys. A few of them even had the word “monster” in the labels.

You currently had one of those ridiculous monster dildos in your hand wondering how anyone could possibly fit something like that inside them. You briefly considered taking it home, purely for research purposes, of course.

Just as you were inspecting the absurdly graphic details printed on the toy's box, someone stepped next to you way closer than necessary. Who stood this close to someone while browsing monster-sized dildos?

Giving them a subtle side glance, you realized it was a man. Tall enough that you could barely see beyond his chin without obviously staring. A black mask covered most of his face, obscuring his identity. You cleared your throat uncomfortably and walked away, an odd feeling tingling along your spine from the stranger's presence.

You browsed for a little while longer before deciding on just two items—the ridiculously gigantic dildo and a discreet rose toy. As you joined the checkout line, you noticed there was only one other person ahead of you, but unfortunately, she seemed to be having trouble with her card so it was taking a while.

The stranger from earlier joined the line directly behind you, making you sigh in irritation. Just your luck.

Your skin prickled uncomfortably as he stepped even closer, despite the line clearly not moving. Right. Your therapist had repeatedly emphasized setting clear boundaries, something you admittedly weren’t great at. Now seemed like a perfect time to practice that.

You turned abruptly, nostrils flaring with barely concealed anger. “Excuse me,” you snapped, emphasizing every syllable. “Have you never heard of personal space? You’re standing way too close, so if you could kindly step back, that would be great.”

He tilted his head slightly, eyes flickering downward to the giant dildo box you were still clutching tightly, then back up to your face as you tapped your foot impatiently. A soft snort escaped him. Was he mocking you?!

“Back off, jerk” you hissed the insult through gritted teeth before turning your back to him again.

“I can’t believe the first time you decide to stand up for yourself is in a sex shop.”

Do you know that dreadful feeling that washes over you right before disaster strikes?

That was exactly how you felt when you recognized that voice. A voice belonging to none other than your daily tormentor.

Slowly, you turned around again. He’d pulled his mask down and pushed his cap up, fully revealing his unfairly attractive face. A slight smile graced his lips, probably the first genuine smile you'd ever seen from him in the entire miserable year you'd known Park Sunghoon.

“Fucking hell…” you whispered, eyes growing to the size of saucers, knees feeling dangerously weak.

Your fight-or-flight instincts chose precisely that moment to kick in, and you reacted in possibly the worst way imaginable: you bolted. Unfortunately, you bolted with both unpaid items still in your hands.

You didn’t even realize your mistake until you were sitting in your car, chest heaving, heart hammering so hard you could hear it in your head. Panic clawed up your throat when you saw the items still clutched in your hand. With a strangled cry, you tossed the incriminating bag out your car window and drove away at breakneck speed, half-expecting sirens at any second.

Seriously, what were the odds of bumping into your boss at a sex you shop?!

The next morning you dragged yourself reluctantly into your workplace, looking as close to a corpse as humanly possible. You hadn’t slept at all, spending the entire night drafting your resignation letter. Forty different versions until you decided on one that didn’t seem too much like trauma dumping.

You had a million reasons to quit already, but after the mortifying nightmare of Sunghoon catching you holding a monster dildo box at a sex shop and calling him a jerk? Yeah, that one topped the list. 

Maybe this was just the universe finally screaming at you to do better for yourself.

Still, dread knotted in your stomach at the thought of suddenly being unemployed. Fucking Park Sunghoon… Did he ever get tired of ruining your life?

Your coworkers greeted you warmly as you walked past them, but several quickly stepped aside after seeing your vacant stare and pale complexion. You overheard hushed whispers: "Is she okay?" "She looks terrible”. You ignored them all.

Once you reached your boss’s office door, you paused, noticing how your hand trembled as you raised it to knock. Taking a shaky breath, you rapped twice.

“Come in,” he called, and you pushed open the door, wincing at its squeak. Had it always been that loud? Well, you wouldn't really know since you immediately dissociated every time you entered this office.

His dark eyes flickered upward, flashing briefly before he returned his attention to the files on his desk. “I hope that’s the corrected version of last week's report in your hand,” he said, pushing up his reading glasses.

God, why did he have to look so attractive in those stupid glasses? You wished he’d wear them more often, preferably in situations other than berating you. Shit—those sleepless nights must’ve fried your brain. You should feel nothing but deep, burning hatred toward this man right now. He was actively ruining your life!

“Erm…no. It’s actually—” You stepped forward hesitantly and placed the letter on his desk, sliding it towards him as if feeding a hungry lion, then stepping quickly away.

“A resignation letter?” he questioned impassively, picking up the envelope and glancing at your shaky handwriting on the envelope. There were definitely a few tear stains visible on the surface.

“Yes, sir. And I wanted to apologize sincerely for yesterday. It was extremely inappropriate of me. There are other reasons, too… they’re all listed in there.” Your voice practically died in your throat under his intense stare.

He sighed deeply and set the letter down without bothering to open it. “Y/N, can I be frank with you?” he started and you braced yourself. 

“You’re too stubborn, impulsive most of the time, overly emotional, defensive—”

Your jaw dropped open, ready to protest, but he held up a hand silencing you before you even started.

“But you’re also one of the hardest workers on this floor. You bring fresh ideas, you’re meticulous to a fault, you push the team to improve. A perfectionist like me… exactly what this company values.”

“If this is your way of convincing me to stay—”

“I’m not finished,” he interrupted sharply. “You’re all those things, sure. But one thing I never took you for was a coward.”

Your entire body went rigid with rage and it ignited so fast in your chest you could not stop the next words from coming out. “I am not a coward. I'm finally putting myself first! Do you honestly think you can say all those horrible things about me and then smooth it over with a couple of generic compliments? That’s not how this works! From day one you’ve made it your personal mission to make my work life miserable! And don’t even try feeding me some bullshit about seeing potential or trying to build my character or whatever ‘tough love’ corporate crap you're about to spew, because I won’t believe it for a second!”

You were shouting now, pretty sure everyone outside could probably hear you, but you’d reached a point beyond caring.

“And while we’re busy listing adjectives for each other,” you continued breathlessly, “let me tell you exactly what you are! You’re the most self-centered, sociopathic, egomaniacal, narcissistic, emotionally constipated, manipulative, control freak bastard I’ve ever known! I’m quitting because of you. I can't stand being here another second, because I can’t stand you!”

You stood there, chest heaving, waiting to see what the devil in designer glasses would do next.

His expression stayed maddeningly neutral until the faintest curl ghosted across his mouth. A smile? Why on earth was Park Sunghoon smiling? Had he finally lost it? Or had you? Because that was definitely a smirk, and now he was rising from his chair, closing the distance between you.

A million panic-scenarios flashed through your head. Maybe he just wanted to yell at you up close. Maybe he planned to throttle you on the spot. Murderer wasn’t even on the list of insults you’d hurled at him but—

“There she is,” he murmured darkly. “The pretty thing I saw in the sex shop. For a moment I doubted it was you… someone with that much fire, that much backbone. But here you are again.”

He stopped so close you could pick out the mint on his breath under the expensive cologne. Your brain was so scrambled you could do nothing but count every mole on his flawless skin, and notice the fact that he didn’t appear to have a single visible pore. What in the fresh hell was happening?

“Language,” he chided softly, apparently you’d spoken your confusion aloud. “Just because I let you scream at me doesn’t mean you can use whatever words you like.”

Warmth flooded your skin, and your tongue stuck to the roof of your dry mouth. What was this weird sensation? It felt as if you’d wandered into a dream, standing bare in a cage with a lion prowling around you. Sunghoon’s gaze was fiercer than ever.

“Uhm… I don’t understand—”

“Let me clarify.” His voice dropped into a velvety tone. “I won’t claim I never meant those things I said, but they weren’t out of malice. If anything, I wanted to see how far you could go before you stopped playing nice.”

You walked back into the wall and he followed, not touching yet but close enough that his body heat curled around you. “Don’t shrink back now,” he whispered. “Show me what that sharp little mouth can do.”

Your lips parted in indignation only for his grin to widen, stealing the breath and every comeback right out of you. He had perfectly straight teeth and unnervingly sharp canines. They were almost vampiric. Was your boss a vampire? That would explain why working for him felt like being bled dry day after day.

But right now, as those midnight eyes pinned you in place, the only thing you knew for sure was that you were in far deeper than any resignation letter could fix. 

And then all those swirling thoughts in your head stopped because he kissed you, brutally hard, swallowing your gasp of shock. His hand tangled roughly in your hair, tipping your head back until you were at his mercy.

His mouth trailed hot kisses across the soft skin of your neck, you bit your lip if only to try to contain the whimpers that were threatening to spill out of you. His sharp canines sunk softly into your skin and he sucked the spot after in almost a soothing manner.

It felt as though you’d lost your job, your mind, and apparently your self-respect—but fuck if you didn’t suddenly feel alive for the first time in months.

When he kissed you again it turned savage quick, all the pent-up frustration, a year’s worth of anger and denial spilling out in the space of a few ragged breaths. 

Sunghoon’s hands found your waist, gripping you hard enough to bruise. With barely a grunt as warning, he shoved you back until you collided with the desk, your palms splaying behind you for balance.

He crowded in, not giving you a second to reconsider. It was as if he could sense your hesitation and didn’t plan on letting you recover it. Your thighs hit the edge of the desk and he pinned you there, the solid line of his body fitting between your legs as he bent to nip your jaw, then your throat again, his breath hot and wild against your skin.

“Still want to quit?” he murmured, hands already hiking your skirt. “Or are you going to admit you need this as much as I do?”

Your laugh came out shaky. “I’d rather beg for anything but this job, asshole—”

He cut you off pushing your underwear aside and slipping a finger inside, harder than you expected, and so skilled it almost made you cry. Your hips jerked up helplessly, humiliation and need mixing into something molten.

“That’s right,” Sunghoon growled. “You love this, don’t you? Making a mess all over my fingers, desperate to be fucked by your boss. Never thought you’d be such a needy little thing.”

You hated how your body responded to every filthy word. His thumb circled your clit mercilessly and you gasped. “You should see yourself, whimpering on my desk,” he taunted. “I bet that monster dildo you picked out was just wishful thinking… thinking about getting filled up, stretched out, but you wanted the real thing, didn’t you?”

You managed a glare, but it drifted down when he started undoing his belt and freeing himself. The sight of his cock made your mouth go dry. He was big. Intimidatingly so. There was a split second of panic in your eyes, and he saw it, smirking as he lined himself up with you.

“What’s wrong?” he whispered, rubbing the tip of his cock against your entrance. “Are you scared? You can still run to HR and tell them about your big, bad boss. Or you can stay right here and take every fucking inch like a good girl.”

When he saw you had no intention of stopping him, he pushed in slowly and didn’t stop until he bottomed out, hips flush with yours. The stretch was dizzying, almost too much, but your body greedily tried to take more, clenching around him.

“Shit—so fucking tight,” he groaned, his voice breaking a little, grip bruising on your hips. “You’re gonna have to loosen up a bit, baby. I can’t move.”

Your walls we’re hugging him so hard he got scared he’d get stuck in there for a second (Nof that it would be such a bad thing). But then you relaxed as you got used to his size and he started moving slowly.

You whimpered, nails digging into the wood. “God, Sunghoon…” 

“Yeah, moan my name just like that,” he rasped, snapping his hips forward and pulling back only to slam in deeper. “You want everyone out there to know who’s fucking you stupid?”

Every word had you spiraling, your body burning, arching to meet his thrusts. The filthy rush of his dominance, the grip of his hands, the way he bent you back over his desk and took what he wanted—every bit of it broke down your defenses. He leaned over you, one hand gripping your jaw, forcing your gaze up to meet his.

“Eyes on me,” he ordered. “You don’t come until I tell you, got it?”

You nodded, barely coherent. All the nerves in your body lit up from the pressure and the brutal rhythm of his cock slamming into you. He pushed harder, deeper, and relentlessly.

“You’re mine now,” he snarled, biting at your throat. “My dirty little office slut, letting your boss fuck you on his desk because you couldn’t help yourself.”

“Y—yes,” you gasped, broken and burning for him.

“That’s right. Cum for me, right now. Show me how much you need it.”

As you fell apart, trembling and ruined against his desk, you realized you’d never let anyone talk to you like this—but god, you liked it when he did.

So, you didn’t quit. 

Instead, you trudged back into the office the next morning. Sore in places you’d rather not recall and wishing you could blot out yesterday’s debauchery from your body with industrial-grade bleach.

Things honestly couldn’t have gone worse. You’d marched into Sunghoon’s office to let out a year’s worth of grievances, and sure, you’d “let it all out”… just not in the way you’d planned. 

He still refused to accept your resignation, and there was zero chance you were marching to HR after engaging in the world’s most ridiculous office affair. Everyone knows the employee with less power always gets burned, and you were not leaving without your full paycheck.

Waiting for the elevator, you opened your phone’s camera, angling your neck to check the damage. Not even half a bottle of foundation could fully cover the vampire bites Sunghoon had branded you with. 

You dabbed your skin one last time before the elevator dinged and, as if conjured by your anxiety, in walked the devil himself.

“Good morning,” he said, and it took genuine effort not to flinch under his gaze.

“Uh, morning,” you muttered, pressing yourself into the farthest corner of the elevator, doing your best to look small and invisible.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked, voice casual. If you weren’t so on edge, you’d have given him the side-eye. Since when did the man who regularly worked you into exhaustion care about your rest?

“As well as I could manage,” you replied, lips pressed tight.

“Hmm. I did go a little rough on you yesterday.” He said it as if he was apologizing for a harsh tennis match, not for nearly rearranging your insides.

A dust mote or possibly your own panic got lodged in your throat, and you started coughing. It took you a few seconds to recover and all you could manage was a hoarse “Let’s not speak of that ever again.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not dying to have the office know about our little secret either.”

Of course he was an ass about it. You rolled your eyes. “You think I am? For the record, I tried to quit. But no, Mr. Spoiled Sunghoon has to get his way, as always!”

He turned fully toward you, blocking the doors with that broad frame. “You’re calling me spoiled when you’re throwing a fit like this? And, for the record, I was about to suggest we find someplace more private to continue our… business instead.”

Your jaw dropped. Was he seriously proposing you keep fucking but just in a different…  location?

“You’ve misunderstood. I have no intention of continuing anything with you except maybe a more professional work relationship.”

He laughed a humorless laugh that skimmed your nerves raw. “You don’t believe that even a little.”

“Why do you have to fight me on every single thing? Does it give you some twisted satisfaction to see me pissed off?”

He flashed a wolfish smile. “Surprisingly, yes. But I found out yesterday that it’s even more satisfying seeing you come all over my co—”

The elevator doors suddenly slid open, saving you from whatever depravity he was about to say. You practically leapt to the other side so dramatically you had to fake a leg cramp to explain your awkward movement to the coworker stepping in. The newcomer eyed you curiously but said nothing, thank god.

You caught Sunghoon’s reflection in the elevator’s polished wall and he was clearly biting back a laugh, enjoying every second of your mortification.

When you arrived at your desk—flustered, anxious, and already mentally exhausted—you actually clasped your hands under the desk and prayed. Please let today pass without incident. Please let Park Sunghoon forget I exist for once in his damn life.

Realistically, he only called you into his office once or twice a week. Usually to nitpick your reports or assign corrections. And you figured he was smart enough to want to maintain at least the illusion of normalcy, which meant keeping that routine.

Naturally, you thought wrong.

Because barely fifteen minutes had passed before you saw your desk phone light up with a call from his extension.

You stared at it in silent horror, briefly considering smashing your forehead into the stapler. A workplace injury would be a valid excuse to leave early, right?

…For any normal boss, sure. But Sunghoon wasn’t a normal boss. He was a sadistic egomaniac who unfortunately had the dick to back up a portion of his arrogance.

Just then, your coworker Mina strolled by and smiled sweetly, clearly unaware that you were on the verge of losing your mind. You latched onto her like a lifeline.

“Mina! Can you help me with something?”

“Sure, what is it?” she asked, stepping closer.

You grabbed the offending stack of papers. “Can you take these reports to Mr. Park for me?” you offered her a smile hoping she wouldn’t question you. 

She blinked, a little confused. “Sure… but why?”

Fucking hell. “Oh, it’s just—I really need to use the bathroom, like, right now. Could you just drop them off for me?” The bathroom excuse was foolproof. No one argues with that.

“Oh, okay! But couldn’t you take it after?”

Why was she asking so many questions? Just take the goddamn file and save your doomed coworker from her crazy boss.

Your smile widened so unnaturally it probably triggered a horror response in her brain. Mina’s own smile faltered slightly in concern.

“I’m only saying that because you know how he gets with the reports… He’ll probably want to talk to you about it.”

Right. Like you didn’t already know that.

“I know! It’s just…” fuck it, being honest might make her feel bad for you. “I don’t want to deal with his berating right now.” You sighed.

She hesitated but then smiled in solidarity “I get it. He scares me a bit too. I'll bring them to him and say you needed the bathroom urgently.” 

Victory.

“Thank you so much, Mina! I owe you one.”

To commit to the bit, you stood up and headed toward the bathrooms, waiting just around the corner. You peeked out from behind a pillar and watched her step into Sunghoon’s office. Sorry for sending you into the lion’s den, Mina.

After five strategically-timed minutes in the bathroom, you returned to your desk and sat for three whole minutes before your phone rang again.

You saw the caller ID and instantly considered throwing yourself out the nearest window.

“Hel—”

“Come into my office. Now.”

The finality in his tone snapped any last thread of avoidance you were clinging to. You sighed, mentally braced for the gallows walk, and made your way to his office.

“You wanted me?” you asked coldly, sticking your head in and trying very hard not to look at the desk you’d been thoroughly fucked on yesterday.

“Come in,” he said, without looking up. “And close the door.”

You swallowed hard.

Closing the door meant isolation. No witnesses. Just you and him. And judging by the tone in his voice, you knew this wasn’t going to be a normal work talk. Hell, it probably wasn’t going to be a talk at all.

“I’m actually very busy right now, so—”

“Are you?” His voice was soft but cutting. “I doubt hiding out in the bathroom counts as a busy task.”

You shot him a look. Was he spying on you? “How did you even know?”

“Ms. Myoi isn’t exactly subtle,” he replied, almost smirking. “Next time, pick someone with a better poker face.”

“You got the files, so what’s the problem?” You tried to keep your tone firm, but your nerves were showing.

He stood up so quickly you barely had time to react. Every instinct screamed for you to bolt, but instead, you froze as his long fingers curled gently but firmly around your forearm, tugging you in closer. With his other hand, he closed the door behind you and turned the lock.

“I think you’re under the impression that, after what happened yesterday… You know, me stuffing you full of my cock and all… that you can talk to me however you please.” His tone was low and dangerous. “But you’re mistaken. I’m still your boss, and while you’re here, you’re going to show me respect.”

You hated the way he was speaking to you, hated even more the way his hand was now gliding up your arm, fingers brushing lightly around your throat and up to the sensitive nape of your neck.

“This is a total abuse of power,” you managed. “You can’t just summon me in here and expect me to drop everything because you think I’ll be easy for you. I’m not here to satisfy your needs. I’m here to work. And if that’s not what you want, let me go.”

He chuckled, the hand at your neck stroking slow circles against your skin. “Did you really think I called you in for anything other than work?” His tone was almost playful, clearly amused by your suggestion.

“I told you I wasn’t planning to do that again,” he added, his eyes flickering down your body with an infuriating amount of calm. “Not here, at least.”

Your chin lifted defiantly, meeting his gaze head-on. “What makes you think I’d want to do it again anywhere?” 

“Because you loved it. You took my cock like it was the best thing that had ever happened to you. And right now…” He leaned in closer, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “You’re pressing your thighs together just from hearing me talk about it.”

Your whole body flushed—because fuck him, you were.

His hand tightened ever so slightly at your nape. “You can lie with that mouth all you want,” he murmured, “but your body? Your body doesn’t lie to me. It wants me. Still.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest, your breath turning embarrassingly shaky. Sunghoon saw your hesitation, your silent surrender, and smiled a  slow, arrogant smirk that sent a thrill straight down your spine.

He leaned closer, lips brushing lightly against your ear as he spoke in a whisper. “You know what your problem is? You talk so much, but the second I touch you…” his fingertips traced trails from your nape down your spine “you fall apart so beautifully. Yesterday you were practically begging me.”

“I—I wasn’t begging,” you lied weakly, breath hitching as his fingers slipped underneath the edge of your collar, stroking softly across your collarbone. 

“Really?” he murmured. “Because I distinctly remember how loud you were” his voice dipped into something darker, hotter. “Do you remember how tightly you clenched around me when I told you exactly what a good little slut you were being for your boss?”

You swallowed a whimper, shame and lust tightening your throat. His other hand cupped your jaw gently, thumb brushing your lower lip as he tilted your head back, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“You liked that, didn’t you? Liked taking every inch of me right here in my office,” he said quietly. “I bet you spent all night replaying it, wishing I was there to do it again. And again. And again.”

Your eyes fluttered shut involuntarily as his thumb stroked across your lip again, gently pressing just enough to part them. You were utterly pliant, melting like wax under his touch.

“Look at you,” he murmured softly, eyes glinting with triumph. “So responsive. Just my voice, my fingers on your skin, and you’re trembling already.” He leaned in. “I wonder how much more desperate I could make you.”

You couldn’t even pretend anymore. Your body was begging him silently. He drew back just slightly, a satisfied smirk playing at his lips as he took in your flushed expression.

“Meet me during your lunch break,” he ordered quietly, pulling away enough to restore a cruel semblance of professionalism. “Don’t be late. You know I’m not patient.”

Your cheeks burned hotly at the implication, even as a thrill raced through you. You nodded weakly, knowing there was no chance you’d refuse.

You counted down the hours to lunch with embarrassing anticipation, barely getting any work done. Not only was Park Sunghoon living rent-free in your head, he was now actively sabotaging your productivity. Ugh. How could hate and want coexist so aggressively? It was unnatural.

Finally, when the clock struck 1PM, you all but leapt out of your seat only to force yourself to sit right back down after realizing how eager you looked. Get a grip.

Just as you were trying to muster the courage to casually make your exit, your phone buzzed with a text from him:

Sunghoon: Change of plans. Meet me at the parking lot.

You stared at the message, scoffing. Really? He was going to make you walk all the way downstairs just to get railed in the backseat of his car?

You grumbled under your breath the entire way down to the parking lot, texting him as soon as you arrived: Which one’s your car?

You really should’ve known.

A black Mercedes-Benz—the newest model, naturally—rolled up and parked directly in front of you. The door popped open automatically, and there he was with sunglasses on, one arm draped lazily over the wheel, and a small tilt of his chin beckoning you inside like he was some villain in a K-drama.

You rolled your eyes but got in anyway.

“Why didn’t you bring your bag?” he asked immediately, not even sparing you a glance.

“I have my wallet in my phone case. I don’t need anything else.”

“I’ll have one of the staff bring it to my place later.”

“Your place?!” You sat upright, the seatbelt snapping back loudly as you turned to him.

He didn’t even glance over. “Where did you think we were going?”

“To eat lunch? I mean, I’m actually hungry,” you insisted, only half lying. You knew where this was heading, but you refused to seem too eager.

He sighed as if you were an unexpected challenge in his otherwise perfectly curated day. “Either way, you’re not coming back in today. I’ll have your bag delivered. So, where do you want to eat?”

“Wait a second. What do you mean I’m not coming back? My shift isn’t over. I have work to do!”

He gave you a look, one thick brow raised behind his sunglasses. “Yeah, work I assigned you. Which means I can unassign it just as easily. Strap in.”

“Sunghoon, this is… ridiculous! You can’t just kidnap me from work just because you’re my boss!”

He smirked. “I definitely can.”

“That doesn’t make it okay!” you grumbled, finally buckling your seatbelt with as much attitude as you could manage.

“I don’t understand what you’re so upset about. You’re getting out early, still getting paid for the full shift, and you’ll be thoroughly taken care of.” He glanced at you. “I’d think you’d be thanking me.”

“Of course you don’t see the problem,” you muttered, turning to scowl out the window. “Whatever. Just drive.”

Sunghoon didn’t say anything. The engine purred back to life, and you tried not to focus on the fact that you were skipping work to go God knows where with your arrogant, dangerously hot boss to get possibly (likely) fucked into tomorrow.

The car ride started in a silence that felt too heavy for two people who’d literally had sex on a desk 24 hours ago. You stared out the window, arms crossed, trying not to seem too aware of how expensive everything in this car felt. The leather, the tech, even the damn smell… it all screamed money. 

“Alright,” he said eventually, “how do you feel about that new French-Japanese fusion place in uptown?”

“Fusion? Uptown? That sounds like a two hour meal and three digit prices.”

He shrugged one shoulder. “So?”

“So,” you said, turning to look at him, “I said I’m hungry. I’m not trying to sit through seven courses of foam and edible flowers.”

“Fine,” he muttered. “What do you suggest, then?”

You thought for half a second. “We could hit that little spot near the office. You know, the one with the best kimchi fried rice—”

“No.”

You frowned. “Why not?”

“I’m not taking you somewhere that has a laminated menu and plastic chairs.”

You stared at him, incredulous. “You’re such a snob.”

“And you have the palate of a college student.”

You gaped at him. “You know what? Maybe I do want to eat something cheap and greasy. You ever think that maybe not all of us grew up eating imported truffle oil on toast?”

He chuckled. “Why are you making it sound like a crime to want something nice?”

“Because you think nice has to mean expensive.”

He didn’t reply right away, just turned the corner smoothly. You could feel his gaze on you even though he was watching the road.

“Fine. I’ll make a deal with you.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Go on.”

“I’ll let you pick where we eat this time, but next time, it’s my choice.”

Your stomach flipped at the implication of doing this again, but you refused to show it. “You’re assuming there’ll be a next time.”

Sunghoon smirked. “There will.”

You turned back to the window with a huff, trying to hide your tiny smile. 

“Wait—turn right here. There’s a food truck fair in that parking lot!

There was a second of silence so loud it made you look back at him. Sunghoon slowly turned his head toward you, scandalized.

“You want me to eat in a parking lot?”

“Oh come on. It’s street food!”

“Do you have any idea how many food safety violations they probably have?”

“You think your caviar isn’t hiding mercury or something? Please.”

He gave you a look like you’d just suggested licking a subway pole. “We could catch anything from there.”

You laughed, genuinely. “You’re being dramatic.”

“You know there’s a reason the Michelin Guide doesn’t cover sketchy food trucks.”

“Just try the food, Sunghoon. I promise you won’t die from eating a greasy burger”

“Bold of you to assume that’s not exactly how my obituary would read,” he muttered, but he was already making the turn.

You smirked triumphantly. “Are you actually giving in?”

He sighed, the weight of compromise clearly hurting his soul. “I’m making a tactical concession to avoid hearing you complain the rest of the day.”

“That’s what I thought,” you said sweetly, already unbuckling your seatbelt.

“If I get food poisoning, I’m dragging you down with me.”

The food truck you chose specialized in Korean fusion, with spicy pork tacos, kimchi fries, and bulgogi rice bowls. It was the kind of place where napkins came in a metal dispenser and water was self-serve. Sunghoon looked deeply out of place with his lil crisp button-up still tucked, Rolex peeking under his cuff, and an expression like he was trying not to breathe too deeply.

“That man’s handling cash and tortillas without changing gloves.” He said, pointing at the guy working the front.

“That man,” you replied, swatting his finger down “is a hero bringing joy to the masses. Relax.”

You ordered tacos, ignoring Sunghoon’s skeptical gaze as you squeezed lime over the foil-wrapped mess. “Don’t tell me you’ve never eaten from a truck before.”

“I have,” he lied, studying the salsa bottles. “It just… isn’t usually my first choice.”

You picked a picnic table under an umbrella. Sunghoon pulled out a crisp linen handkerchief (of course he carried one) and wiped the bench before you could sit.

“Oh my God, you’re embarrassing me,” you laughed.

“Your immune system will thank me,” he said, unfolding it like a placemat. 

“Here. Try acting like the rest of us humans” you handed him a tray.

“There’s no cutlery…” He said, eyeing the tacos suspiciously.

“Obviously,” you said, already digging into yours. “You have to use your hands, Richie Rich.”

Sunghoon reluctantly picked one up and took a bite. His jaw worked slowly, expression unreadable. You waited for a complaint.

“One to ten, rate your $6 lunch.”

He hesitated, glancing at your happy expression. “Eight. And don’t let it go to your head.”

You gasped dramatically. “Is that approval? From Park Sunghoon? Should I alert the media?”

“I said don’t push it.” But the corner of his mouth twitched dangerously close to a smile.

As you sat across from each other, legs nearly brushing beneath the bench, the sun felt warmer, the breeze softer. For a moment, everything felt dangerously normal.

Until he leaned in and brushed his thumb across the corner of your mouth.

You froze. “What are you doing?”

“You had sauce.” He licked his thumb without breaking eye contact. “Don’t say I never take care of you.”

You stared, half-appalled. “You are literally why my therapist is booked solid.”

“Happy to keep her employed,” he said, flashing a grin. “I’m sure you have plenty to discuss about how much you enjoy working under me.”

You snorted. “In what world would I admit that?”

He shrugged, tearing open a sauce packet with annoying elegance. “You already admitted it with your thighs yesterday.”

You kicked him lightly under the table. “You can’t say things like that in public.”

“No one’s listening,” he said, but his eyes hadn’t left your face once. He was watching you too closely.

You looked away, stabbing a fry. “So what is this supposed to be? Lunch and… whatever comes after?”

He leaned in slightly, forearms resting on the table. “You really think I’m that predictable?”

“Aren’t you?”

He shook his head, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “If I was just here for that, I wouldn’t have bothered with lunch.”

“Then why did you?”

“Still figuring that out.”

You cleared your throat, suddenly conscious of how close you were. “Well, while you work on your revelation, I’m getting dessert.”

He stood smoothly. “Pick whatever you want.”

“Even the bubble waffles?” you teased.

“Get two. You’ll need the sugar.”

You blinked. “Why?”

Sunghoon just smiled.

“I thought you said getting into my pants wasn’t the plan today,” you continued, arms folding tightly across your chest.

Sunghoon’s gaze flicked unapologetically downward. “I just changed my mind. Your ass looks incredible in that skirt.”

The truth is, he barely noticed until now just how distracted he’d become simply from watching the way your skirt hugged your curves. It irritated him a bit, actually, that you could derail his thoughts so effortlessly.

You kind of figured things would end up at his place, but your appetite for anything besides food totally disappeared. Maybe it was the realization that you’d let yourself get sidetracked from work, and, weirdly enough, you actually liked just hanging out and eating with him. But if you had sex with him now, it’d just confirm that to him, you were just an easily accessible warm hole, nothing more.

You grimaced at your own thoughts and suddenly got angry at the fact that you were even here.

“Well, I'm sorry but Richard’s waiting for me, so I have to get home.”

His entire demeanor shifted instantly, shoulders tightening, the casual ease disappearing from his expression.

“And who the hell is Richard?”

A faint tension settled into his jaw. It wasn’t jealousy—at least, that’s what he told himself. It was simply the irritation of someone who disliked having his plans disrupted.

You blinked at him. “Seriously?”

“And your shift isn’t even over yet,” he added coldly, looking at his watch.

Your blood pressure spiked instantly. “You’re joking, right? Now my shift matters? Five minutes ago you were rearranging my entire day like it was your personal schedule.”

Sunghoon glared at you, his grip on the keys turning almost painful. He knew he was being petty, but he didn’t care. Especially with you dodging him like this.

“I just asked who Richard was, there’s no need to get so defensive.”

“Well, it’s none of your damn business.”

Your words were sharp enough to make his jaw clench. He let out a frustrated breath, telling himself not to say anything else that could possibly upset you more.

“Now you can take me home, or I’ll get a cab. Your choice.” you said, unyielding.

There was a stubborn silence before Sunghoon finally relented, unlocking the car with a curt click. Without another word, you both slid inside, any easiness from before completely gone.

“So what—” Sunghoon scoffed as he started the engine, eyes hardening with visible annoyance. “You can sleep with me but I can’t ask who you’re rushing home to?”

“Exactly, because we’re not anything, remember?”

The reply was blunt enough that even Sunghoon found himself momentarily at a loss for a comeback. That’s right, this was supposed to be a casual thing. So why did this suddenly feel so much more personal?

He didn’t care who you were seeing, really—he just didn’t appreciate surprises.

Nobody said another word the entire drive. You could practically hear every exhale he took through his nose as he maneuvered the Mercedes through traffic. When he finally pulled up in front of your building, you unbuckled fast, eager to put distance between you.

“Thanks for the food,” you said curtly, fingers already on the door handle.

His gaze flicked over. “Sure.”

You stepped out, letting the door slam just to be petty. Sunghoon’s jaw flexed, his hands gripping the wheel harder. The Benz sped off with a throaty growl, and you resisted the urge to flip him off as the tail lights faded.

Upstairs, you kicked off your shoes and made a beeline for the one thing that had been getting you through this godforsaken job for the last 13 months.

The punching bag.

It hung from the ceiling near your bookshelf, worn from frequent abuse. Centered at face level was a printout of Park Sunghoon’s corporate ID that you’d taped with scotch.

“You smug, insufferable bastard!” you shouted, kicking the bag so hard it swung wildly. “Acting like you own my schedule, my life, my goddamn—”

Thwack. A right hook.

“‘Who the hell is Richard?’ None of your business, that’s who!”

Thump. Left jab.

“Shift’s not over—my ass!”

You unleashed a rapid combo, each hit knocking the bag back with satisfying heft. Across the room, Richard, the mildly judgmental tabby who ruled your apartment with silent disdain blinked at you from his perch.

“See, Richie?” You kneed the bag for good measure. “This is why we can’t have nice things. Because men like Park Sunghoon exist.”

Richard only cocked his head, emitting a single meow and looking entirely unimpressed.

You landed one final kick then sagged against the bag, chest heaving. Richard hopped down, padded over, and brushed against your shin, purring as though to say drama over? snack time?

You blew out a breath, raking sweaty hair off your forehead. “Yeah, buddy. Snack time.” Anything to shift focus away from a certain arrogant boss whose expensive cologne you could still—annoyingly— smell on you.

Sunghoon drove back with one hand still tight on the wheel, the other tapping against the center console in a restless rhythm. His jaw hadn’t unclenched since you slammed the door on his car.

He wasn’t pissed. He just… didn’t like how the afternoon ended. You were supposed to come home with him. You were supposed to want to. 

Instead, you’d thrown some guy’s name in his face and got all defensive like he didn’t have a right to ask. Which was bullshit. You’d let him in once, and he was pretty sure you’d let him in again—hell, he knew you would—but the idea of someone else waiting for you? That didn't sit well for some reason.

Why were you being such a brat? You clearly liked the arrangement, otherwise, you wouldn’t have even let him take you out to lunch. He actually tried, you know? Tried not to make it seem like all he cared about was fucking you. Okay, sure, that was a big part of it—but he did want to get to know you too. And then you had to go and be with someone else? Fuck. He hated this… hated the bitter taste of being someone’s second choice.

You weren’t even dating and he didn’t have a right to ask you who you were seeing on the side. You’d said that yourself. Plus, he didn’t want to date anyway. He didn’t want something soft or complicated. He didn’t want to know what you liked for breakfast or listen to your problems or figure out what you meant when you said fine in a tone that clearly wasn’t.

He just wanted the control back. That’s all this was.

Because the second you said someone else was waiting for you, the balance tipped. And Park Sunghoon didn’t like losing his grip on anything—especially not something he already had in his hands.

He switched into the next lane with a bit more force than necessary, letting the tires roar for him. His thumb tightened on the wheel. Richard. Stupid fucking name. Sounded like a finance bro who wore boat shoes and called people “champ”

He didn’t care who Richard was. He just didn’t like the image of you choosing to go home to anyone else even if he didn’t want you for more than what you were.

Which he didn’t.

Obviously.

He was just annoyed.

Frustrated.

Hard again, if he was being honest.

With a low, irritable sigh, Sunghoon turned into the parking garage of his building and killed the engine. He sat there for a second, resting his head back against the seat with his eyes closed.

This was nothing. You were nothing.

But you had looked really fucking good storming away from him.

Sunghoon gave you space the next day. Not out of guilt but because he figured pushing after yesterday’s disaster would only make things worse. You were temperamental, stubborn as hell, and smart enough to know he was trying.

Still, that didn’t mean he wasn’t thinking about you. Specifically, about the way those pencil skirts you paraded around made your legs and ass look fantastic. 

By the time Friday rolled around, he’d settled on a strategy: subtlety. A little distance, then a reappearance. Just enough to keep you guessing.

So after five o’clock, when most of the floor had already packed up, he left his office with every intention of catching you at your desk. You always stayed late on Fridays, getting the week's reports done so your Mondays weren’t hell. It was part of your routine, and he knew your routines well.

But when he stepped out, your desk was empty.

He glanced around but only one intern remained. Sunghoon walked over. The intern flinched and straightened instantly.

“Where is everyone?” Sunghoon asked calmly.

The intern blinked, clearly panicking under the pressure. “Uh… there’s a team dinner, sir. At that Kimchi place down the block… I think everyone from our department went.”

Sunghoon didn’t bother replying. He just turned on his heel and left.

The kimchi place was downright dismal. The smell of gochujang and sizzling pork could be smelled even from outside. All of Marketing-Finance Floor 23 seemed crammed into one corner.

As soon as Sunghoon entered the room the conversation  died. The only thing that could be heard was a nervous chorus of “Boss?” 

Sunghoon’s eyes locked on you first. On the hem of your skirt riding high on your crossed legs, your cheeks flushed from beer, and your smile collapsing into a flat line the moment you saw him. You were sitting at a corner table, a half-empty pitcher between you and some guy from Finance whose name Sunghoon didn’t even care to remember.

“Next round’s on me,” he announced, sliding his Amex to the sputtering waitress. This seemed to do the trick because the energy returned to the room accompanied by cheers.

Sunghoon moved toward your table.

“This table’s full.” You said immediately, cold but polite.

But before he could reply, one of the interns sprang up like an obedient golden retriever. “Oh, Mr. Park, you can take my seat!”

You smiled tightly at the intern as Sunghoon sat.

That’s when he noticed that the table was all males. And the one beside you was definitely flirting. Sunghoon vaguely recognized him. Sungchan, or something. The guy leaned in when you laughed at whatever he was saying, his hand dangerously close to your arm.

Sunghoon’s jaw ticked.

“Seems like you’re having a great time,” he said flatly, putting down his drink a little too firmly.

You didn’t even glance at him. “I was.”

“Hmm” he hummed, offering a hollow smile. “Didn’t realize this was such an… intimate team gathering.”

“That's usually how work dinners go.”

“Do you laugh like that with everyone you work with?” he asked coolly, eyes flicking to Sungchan, who was too immersed in conversation with another coworker to pay attention to you two.

“Do not start with this.” You glared.

“I’m just saying what I see.”

“No, you’re just pissed you’re not the center of attention.” You stood up abruptly. “Excuse me.”

Sunghoon didn’t give you a moment. He was right behind you as you slipped around the corner and into the women’s restroom. You barely caught your own reflection before his voice sounded at your back.

“Would Richard approve of you out this late, drinking with a bunch of guys?”

You shot him a deadly look in the mirror. “This is the ladies’ restroom. Get out.”

He leaned against the doorframe, clearly not planning on leaving. “I’m just asking. I’m guessing you two have some kind of open relationship.”

You spun to face him, jaw clenched. “Enough about Richard, already.”

He shrugged, rolling up his sleeves casually. “I mean, I’ve been thinking about it. I don’t really mind it that much anymore.”

Your brow furrowed. “What are you getting at?”

“That you’re taken.” His voice dropped a note. “I thought it would bother me. I don’t usually like sharing. But…”

He closed the distance, backing you up against the sink.

“I could make you forget all about him.”

You swallowed, eyes narrowing. “This is highly inappropriate.”

He stepped between your legs before you could sidestep, one hand pressing to the counter beside your hip.

“Inappropriate would be me fucking you right here,” he said calmly. “So I will fuck you in the stall instead…”

You stared up at him, furious that your heart was racing, furious that your body hadn’t caught up to your mind screaming walk away.

Instead, you took a fistful of his shirt and that’s all it took for the thread to snap. He grabbed your wrist and before you could say another word, he was guiding—no, manhandling—you toward the nearest stall.

You stumbled back into it, the door swinging shut behind you with a loud click. 

“You want to laugh with your little office boy toys, fine. But you know none of them will ever get you like this.” he said, already slipping his hand up under your skirt.

“You’re disgusting” you hissed, even as your thighs parted automatically. 

His smile was lazy, sharp canines appearing. “You like me like this.”

You rolled your eyes but the attitude was cut short when he hooked your underwear to the side and ran his fingers through the wetness he found there.

“Dripping,” he whispered. “All that show out there with that dumb accountant but you’re fucking soaked for me.”

“Are you jealous?” you managed, but your voice was already strangled by want.

“Jealous?” Sunghoon scoffed, his other hand unbuttoning your shirt. “I just hate seeing something I’ve ruined get played with by someone else.”

He flicked open the last button, shoving your shirt off your shoulders with barely a glance. Your bra was in the way for all of two seconds until he hooked a finger under the center and yanked it down.

“Pretty,” he murmured, thumb brushing over your nipple. For a second, he just looked at you, half-naked and panting against the wall. His hand trailed lower, skimming your stomach, fingers hooking under your waistband impatiently.

You gripped the handrail, desperate to keep your footing as he shoved two fingers inside you without warning.

“Don’t make a sound,” he growled. “Or do, I don’t give a shit if the whole building hears you getting split open by your boss’ fingers.”

You bit your lip, failing to stifle the whimper that slipped out as his thumb circled your clit.

“We… we shouldn’t do this here” you choked, hips rocking against his hand. “Anyone could come in—-“

“I know,” he cut in, voice rough. “And I’m going to make you come on my fingers while your coworkers toast to a great fucking work week in the next room.”

He kissed you roughly as his fingers thrust in deeper, making you gasp against his mouth. He swallowed it all.

He undid his belt swiftly but your greedy eyes couldn’t take a peek of him because he spun you around quickly, your hands pressing against the cold wall for balance.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” He lined himself up, pressing the head of his cock against you. “For me to fuck you like the needy little slut you really are.”

“Sunghoon—” Your voice cracked. Whatever protest you had evaporated as he thrust in deeply, filling you so suddenly your forehead almost hit the tile wall.

“I told you to be quiet,” he growled, hand clamping over your mouth as his hips snapped roughly into yours. “Unless you want your entire restaurant to hear how desperate you are.”

You moaned against his palm, muffled, eyes squeezed shut as he fucked you ruthlessly. You hated him, hated yourself for how good it felt, for how much you loved the brutal way he fucked you every time. Your body clenched greedily around him, betraying every bit of pride you had left.

“Fuck,” he hissed against your ear, composure cracking. “This tight cunt… did Richard fuck you before you came here tonight? Did you think of me the whole time?”

You whimpered, shaking your head, overwhelmed by how perfectly he filled and ruined you.

“No?” he laughed darkly, gripping your hair and pulling your head back roughly. “You’re mine. Remember that. I know nobody fucks you like this.”

Your body tightened, dizzy from the sensation of every thrust hitting deeper. The cubicle walls shook with each movement, the cheap metal rattling beneath the weight of your reckless need. 

“Come on,” he whispered harshly, hand sliding down to circle your clit mercilessly. “Now cum for me. Be a good girl for once in your life.”

You shattered instantly, violently, screaming against his palm, your walls fluttering around him. Sunghoon swore, still fucking you through every after shock and only pulling out when he was close. He pumped himself outside and spilled his cum all over your legs.

He held you there for a moment, both of you panting, barely holding yourselves upright against the stall wall. Then, he released you and adjusted himself neatly. Your legs trembled, barely able to stand.

“I’m still mad at you,” you whispered, voice hoarse.

He zipped up without blinking. “Good. You fuck better when you’re mad.”

You kicked the door shut behind you, dropped your bag, and let out a groan that probably startled half the building. Richard blinked up from his favorite spot on the windowsill, tail twitching with interest.

You toed off your shoes and collapsed onto the couch. “Richard, I swear to god, your mom’s about to lose her mind.”

He meowed, hopping down and trotting over, immediately stretching up to press his paws to your knee.

“Do you want to hear how my day went? Or are you just here for pets?” You rubbed behind his ear. “Never mind. You’re the only man in my life who isn’t an egomaniac.”

Richard purred in response, eyes wide and curious.

You sighed and started, “Park Sunghoon is the human equivalent of a migraine. He’s so full of himself. It’s always his way or nothing. He’s obsessed with control. And with my—” You caught yourself, cheeks warming. “—I mean, with being the center of attention.”

Richard licked his paw and gave you the bland, patient stare only cats can manage.

“Do you know what he did at work dinner? He walked in, sucked the air out of the room, and then got all territorial the second someone even looked at me. Like, hello? You’re my boss, not my husband!” You huffed, grabbing a throw pillow and squeezing it to your chest.

“And of course, he always has to one-up me. Always has to have the last word. I swear, he’d argue with a brick wall just to prove he could.” You sighed at the ceiling. “One of these days, I’m going to out-stubborn him, Richard. Just you wait.”

Richard meowed and rolled over, practically demanding you scratch his belly.

You gave in, smiling despite yourself. “If I ever start falling for a guy like him, you have my full permission to claw some sense into me. Okay? I mean it.”

Richard let out a long, slow blink, then tucked his head into your lap.

“Oh, don’t even. I know what you’re thinking. ‘But you let him rail you in a bathroom, so who’s really at fault?’ And yeah, fine, okay. That did happen. Doesn’t mean he gets to act like that.”

You sighed, unzipping your skirt halfway to sprawl more comfortably.

“And what was that comment tonight? ‘Did Richard fuck you before you came here?’ First of all, he’s a cat, you lunatic! Secondly, who says that? Who follows you into the ladies restroom just to whisper bullshit like that in your ear and still manage to look hot doing it?”

Silence.

Richard stretched his front paws and turned away from you.

“I hate him,” you groaned. “I hate that stupid look he gets when he knows I’m seconds away from either punching him or climbing him like a fucking ladder. I hate that he talks to me like he owns my body. I hate that I let him.”

You exhaled. For a moment, you try to let yourself forget the mess outside these walls and just be a girl with a comfy couch and a very good cat.

“He’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Richard purred, which was probably him agreeing.

“…And I need new panties.”

The following Monday was hell. You walked into the building with your chin high and your legs still sore, determined to keep it professional. Sunghoon, of course, didn’t look even slightly affected. He entered the conference room as if he hadn’t rearranged your insides in a public restroom stall less than 48 hours earlier.

The team meeting started normally enough. Mostly about updates, deadlines, and more mind-numbing corporate stuff. You were seated across from him, doing your best to ignore the way his eyes kept drifting to you.

Then came the part where you had to present your weekly figures.

“Your report doesn’t account for the regional shift in quarter-two projections,” Sunghoon said, flipping through your printed pages without looking up.

You gave him a tight smile. “That’s because I was told to prioritize active trends over predictive models. As per last Friday’s brief, sir.”

A few heads turned at your sharp tone.

Sunghoon arched a thick brow. “Then you were told wrong.”

“Oh, so now you’re saying your own directives were wrong?”

“You must’ve misinterpreted them. Wouldn’t be the first time,” he said coolly, shutting the folder.

Your jaw tightened. “Funny, since the last time I ‘misinterpreted’ something, you ended up correcting me right away.”

The air in the room dropped to sub-zero.

Sunghoon smiled. But it wasn’t nice. “Let’s take five. I think some of us need to clear our heads”

No one argued. The team scattered so fast it was like fire had broken out. Then it was just you and him.

“I see the bathroom didn’t teach you anything.” He said, voice low and flat as he rounded the table slowly.

You stood your ground. “If you think you can intimidate me in here just because we—”

“Oh, princess,” he murmured. “I’m not trying to intimidate you.”

He pushed you backward until your thighs hit the edge of the conference table. You blinked, but didn’t move. Stubborn to the end.

“Is this how you want to play it?” you asked, breathing uneven.

His eyes dropped to your hips. “This is how you like it.”

You opened your mouth to fire back but gasped when he dropped to his knees in front of you, palms sliding up the backs of your thighs and pulling you closer to his face, lips brushing against the hem of your skirt.

“Sunghoon—”

“Hush,” he said simply, lifting your leg over his shoulder. “You do too much talking.”

He shoved your panties aside and licked a slow stripe up your center. Your hand flew to the edge of the table, nails digging in. His mouth was hot and merciless, tongue working you open with infuriating skill.

“Is this what you wanted?” he muttered, voice muffled between your thighs. “To act like a brat in front of the team so I’d remind you how to behave?”

You couldn’t answer. His mouth was moving too fast now, tongue circling your clit while his fingers spread you wider. Your head fell back, hips rocking helplessly against his face.

He sucked hard, then pulled back just enough to smirk. “Still think you’re in charge?”

You didn’t trust your voice, so you just whimpered, grinding down on his mouth.

He didn’t stop when your thighs shook or even when you clenched around his tongue, crying out into the empty conference room.

When you finally came, it was with a broken sound and a trembling grip on the polished edge of the table. He kept his mouth on you the whole time, lapping up everything you gave him like he was starved.

Eventually, he stood and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, adjusting his sleeves.

You were still breathless, flushed, legs too weak to stand

“I expect your revised report in my inbox by end of day,” he said smoothly, as if he hadn’t just tongue-fucked you into silence.

Sunghoon’s phone buzzed against the table. A single glance at the caller ID wiped the smugness from his face.

His jaw set. “I have to take this.”

You were still half perched on the edge of the conference table, skirt rucked up, panties sticking to you uncomfortably. “Now?”

He straightened his suit jacket with one sharp tug, then swiped to answer. “Yes, Chairman Park?”

Whatever he heard on the other end made the muscle in his cheek jump. “Understood. I’ll be there in ten.”

He killed the call and grabbed a folder he had tossed aside earlier. “I have to go.” His eyes flicked down to your still open thighs then darted back up as if forcing himself to look away. “Make yourself presentable before leaving”

He grabbed his suit jacket from the chair, ran a hand through his hair, and started toward the door.

“Wait, what?” you asked, still breathless. “Are you seriously just—leaving?”

He didn’t even look back. “I have to take care of something.”

Your mouth dropped open. “You’re kidding, right? You just made me—”

“Clean the table up,” he said, already halfway out. “There’s a team coming in here at four.”

The door shut behind him, leaving only the faint scent of his cologne and the distant click of his shoes fading down the hall.

“Unbelievable,” you muttered, yanking your panties back up. “I cannot believe I let that man near me again.”

And once again, you were left cleaning yourself up after Park Sunghoon decided to turn you inside out and vanish like nothing ever happened.

You went back to your desk and channeled every ounce of your anger into the stupid corrections Sunghoon had asked for, using every shred of self-restraint not to add an extremely inappropriate cartoon at the end for his private viewing.

When you finished, there wasn’t much else to do, so you decided to grab some snacks from the staff room. But as you made your way there, you nearly collided with Sunghoon, who was turning the corner accompanied by the CEO, Mr. Park, and a girl you’d never seen before.

The girl looked like she’d just walked off a runway. She was absolutely stunning, with the kind of beauty that made you double-take. She was gazing at Sunghoon with sparkling eyes, clearly smitten, and Sunghoon… was also smiling? And not his usual smirk or that infuriating shit-eating grin, either. This was almost gentle, his eyes crinkling at the corners, a dimple appearing on his cheek. Since when did he have dimples?

You got caught staring when all of you paused in the hallway. After a few awkward seconds, you remembered you were supposed to greet them. “Mr. Park,” you bowed, earning a polite smile from the CEO.

“Oh, hello! Miss Y/L/N, right? Yes, I heard it was your proposal last year that revived the department. Well done! Sunghoon here really picks out the best candidates, doesn’t he?” He clapped Sunghoon on the back and laughed warmly.

Pick out? Well, he certainly picked out the best girl to use. You frowned, but Sunghoon noticed and stepped in smoothly.

“You’re too kind, sir.”

The CEO gestured to the girl. “This is my daughter.”

“Jang Wonyoung,” she said, extending a perfectly manicured hand.

You took it and smiled politely. “Nice to meet you.”

“She’ll be starting here tomorrow,” the CEO continued.

“Here?” you asked, glancing between them. “As in… this department?”

“Indeed. Please treat her well,” Mr. Park said with a friendly nod. You bowed your head again.

“Of course, sir.”

You didn’t realize they accepted new candidates mid-year in this department, but you supposed being the CEO’s daughter had its perks.

“Well, I was just grabbing a refreshment,” you said, offering a brief smile before stepping past them and into the room. 

You glanced over your shoulder and caught Sunghoon stealing a quick glance at you. So this was the “very important business” that made him leave you hot, bothered, and stranded in the conference room? Of course. Giving the CEO’s daughter a personal tour was obviously more urgent than finishing what he’d started with you.

You tried to shake off the weird surge of annoyance building in your chest. You were supposed to be focusing on yourself, right? But ever since your twisted affair with Sunghoon began, your whole life had slipped out of order.

You’d missed your weekend pilates class because your limbs were too sore from being railed in the bathroom. You’d gotten maybe three hours of sleep, replaying every aggravating thing he’d ever done, simmering in irritation and… something else you refused to discuss. You’d even skipped lunch a few times, pretending to be swamped with work just so he wouldn’t get the chance to “kidnap” you again.

Safe to say, Park Sunghoon was wrecking absolute havoc on your routine, and you were desperate to claw back some control.

Maybe this new girl would distract him and he’d finally leave you the hell alone. The idea made your mouth twist with something ugly and in your distracted state, you sipped your freshly brewed coffee, scalding your tongue immediately.

You walked out of the refreshment room with a burnt tongue, a soured mood, and not even a little bit refreshed.

Wonyoung joining your team turned out to be a much bigger hassle than you’d expected. Especially since, out of everyone, you were picked to show her the ropes during her first week. It was like babysitting a celebrity, except the fans were your own coworkers.

Every male employee you passed seemed to have suddenly discovered urgent business near your desk, only to pull you aside with the world’s most obvious fake smiles.

“So, uh… you got her number yet?”

“You think she’s seeing anyone?”

You’d learned to fake a polite smile back and keep it moving, but by Wednesday you were ready to claw your ears off. 

The real cherry on top, however, was Sunghoon himself. With Wonyoung around, he’d doubled down on humiliating you in every meeting. Every little thing you said was picked apart, corrected, or ignored outright. You could feel her perfect eyes on you every time he put you on the spot, and by Friday you were seething.

By the end of the week, you were so keyed up you couldn’t even fake politeness anymore. And unsurprisingly, being micromanaged and dragged into extra tasks had left you behind on your actual work.

Which is how you found yourself still at the office at nearly 3 a.m, hunched over your desk and furiously editing reports with trembling hands and a full mug of forbidden coffee. So much for your no caffeine rule.

Your phone buzzed, and when you saw it was a message from Sunghoon, you nearly hurled it across the room. 

What the hell did he want now? He’d barely acknowledged your existence this week, except to hand you extra work or cut you down in front of the entire team. Maybe he wanted to tell you you’d missed a comma in one of the reports. You knew how much he enjoyed kicking you when you were already down.

Your phone rang again but this time it was a call. You sighed, grabbed it, and answered with zero effort to hide your annoyance. “What?”

“Are you still at the office?” His voice was frustratingly alert for this hour.

“Why?”

“It’s 2am.”

You glanced at the clock. “I am painfully aware. How do you even know I’m here?”

“I can see the security cameras.”

“That’s not creepy at all,” you muttered, spinning in your chair. “Glad to know I can’t even work myself to death in peace.”

“I also saw you were still at your desk when I left earlier. And I know you well enough to know you’d probably stay late.”

“Right, you know me so well,” you shot back, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have about a million reports to correct. Which I got behind on, because I was busy playing tour guide to the little princess all week by the way.”

There was a pause and you almost thought he might apologize. But Sunghoon, as always, surprised you.

“Just… don’t stay too late. The security guards leave at three, and I don’t want to hear about you getting locked in.”

You rolled your eyes. “Noted, boss.”

He hung up before you could add anything else. You tossed your phone onto the desk and stared at your blinking cursor, feeling more annoyed than before.

Sunghoon walked in on the next day already armed with a rare idea. He would let you go home early. You had spent half the night here so the least he could do was let you beat the rush hour traffic.

Then he saw you climb out of Sungchan’s car.

Every good intention died immediately. The muscles in his face tightened so hard into a scowl they ached. He crossed the parking lot in long strides until he was in front of you.

“Morning,” he said impassively. “You two are late.”

He knew you weren’t. The Rolex on his wrist still read 8:58. But the words fired out anyway.

Your easy smile vanished as you simply huffed and strode past him into the building without a word. Sungchan offered a quick bow, clearly confused, then hurried after you. 

Sunghoon’s eyes narrowed. Since when did you commute with Sungchan? Did you not have a perfectly functioning car?

He waited until Sungchan had disappeared back to the accounting floor, before stalking over to your desk. He forced himself to make his tone as casual as possible. You looked irritable enough to bite.

“So,” he said, hands in his pockets, “did you finish those report corrections?”

Without speaking, you lifted a neat stack of files, and set them in his hand. 

Great. Now you weren’t even talking to him.

“I didn’t know you were so close with Sungchan,” he tried, still aiming for non-threatening. “Car trouble? Or is he your new chauffeur?”

You exhaled one of those long, tired sighs that felt like a door slamming in his face before finally looking up at him. The frost in your eyes was familiar, almost nostalgic. He realized he had barely seen you outside meetings last week, and in a twisted way he had missed this exact glare.

“Do you need something?” you asked, voice flat as glass.

He frowned. “No, I was just—”

“Then, if it’s not work-related, I have a lot to do.” You gathered another stack of folders and stood. “And Ms. Jang seems to be waiting for you.”

Sunghoon followed the direction of your nod. Wonyoung stood outside his office with a tablet in her hands. He looked back at you, hoping for one more second of eye contact, something he could read. You were already walking away.

He clenched the corrected reports a little too tightly and turned toward Wonyoung. Whatever nice gesture he’d planned for you earlier was dead on arrival.

You knew from that chilly exchange that your day would not be a walk in the park. The meeting was only ten minutes in and already your nails were half-destroyed from how hard you were digging them into your palm.

Sunghoon was on a roll today. Maybe it was the caffeine or the fact that Wonyoung was seated beside him looking all pretty. But whatever it was, he had decided today was the day to challenge everything you said.

“No,” he cut in for the fourth time, tone clipped, “that’s not what the report reflects. Unless you’ve somehow redefined what productivity looks like, Miss Y/L/N.”

You inhaled sharply. “It’s what the data says. You know, the thing you usually ignore when it doesn’t flatter your genius ideas?”

A few coworkers coughed into their palms. Some even looked up as if  they were watching live combat. Wonyoung, of course, just blinked politely.

Sunghoon’s jaw twitched. “Just because I let you lead these meetings doesn’t mean you should forget who’s running this department.”

“Oh, I haven’t forgotten,” you snapped. “It’s kind of hard when every sentence from your mouth is a dick-measuring contest with yourself.”

The entire room fell into stunned silence.

Sunghoon didn’t even flinch. He just slowly set down his pen and met your gaze with equal intensity. “I think that’s enough for today. Good job everyone.” 

This scene was very familiar and if you remembered correctly, if you stayed in here another second, he would get you in a compromising situation you’d surely regret later.

So you huffed out a breath and walked out, ignoring the curious looks exchanged behind you. Sunghoon was hot on your heels.

“You’ve got a fucking mouth on you,” he muttered, stalking toward you.

“And you’ve got a god complex. Guess we all have flaws, don’t we?”

“I’m your superior.”

“And I’m sick of you reminding me that when I don’t roll over every time you bark!”

He was suddenly in front of you, invading your space. “I wouldn’t have to remind you if you knew how to behave.”

“Says the one who doesn’t know how to treat a woman unless your dick’s out.”

Sunghoon's hand gripped the back of your neck and shoved you into the filing cabinets inside the copy room, not hard enough to hurt but hard enough to tell you the gloves were off.

“Oh, you wanna talk about dicks?” he hissed, his mouth now inches from yours. “Let me remind you how good mine felt buried inside you.”

You refused to back down. “Are you going to fuck the attitude out of me again? How very predictable.”

You twisted in his grip, shoving his chest, but he caught your wrists.

“You want to keep mouthing off?” he rasped, advancing until your bodies hit the cabinet.

“Fuck you.”

He answered by twisting a fist into your hair and crushing his mouth to yours, his tongue driving past your lips as though he could steal every spark of your anger. His free hand slid down to cup your jaw, fingers locking around your chin to hold you still.

“Fucking look at you” he spat, lips swollen and smeared as he tore himself from your mouth “All that attitude, but you’re shaking for me. Who’s the predictable one?”

You glared, stubborn to the last, but your hips betrayed you with a needy twitch. He grabbed you and spun you, forcing you forward until your chest slammed against the cabinet’s freezing edge. His hand bunched up your skirt high, the other tearing your tights and panties down in one rough motion.

“Let me guess,” he sneered, fingers trailing between your legs, “Sungchan made you this wet? Or was it the thought of me bending you over like this?”

You gasped when two long fingers plunged inside you. There was nothing tender in the way he moved—just a ruthless rhythm, demanding your surrender.He curled his fingers, thumb flicking over your clit, making you whimper despite yourself.

“God, listen to you. Moaning like a slut in the copy room,” he taunted, voice dropping lower. “You act so high and mighty, but you’d let me fuck you anywhere, wouldn’t you?”

You bit your wrist to stifle a cry, your hips rocking back against his hand.

“That’s right. Take it. You love it when I treat you like this. You want it rougher?  Or do you want me to slow down and pretend I give a shit about your feelings?”

“Don’t you dare slow down,” you snapped, words strangled with need.

He laughed breathlessly. “Didn’t think so.”

He pulled his fingers out and licked them with a wicked grin. “Pathetic. You’re dripping for me. After all your bitching, you still can’t help yourself.”

You twisted, grabbing the front of his shirt and yanking him down, biting his lower lip hard enough to taste blood. “Just shut up and fuck me.”

His belt hit the floor within a second. He gripped your hips, lined himself up, and thrust in so deep and sudden you yelped. He didn let you adjust to his sheer size, simply grabbed your wrists, pinning them behind your back with one hand, the other squeezing your throat, forcing your back to arch.

“Don’t you dare close your legs. I wanna see you take every inch,” he snarled, grabbing your thighs and holding them wide as he pounded into you. His cock was stretching you so wide and deep, hitting all the right spots until you were a mess of moans and broken pleas. 

Every thrust was sharp and punishing, your body shuddering under him, wetness dripping down your thighs. If anyone heard, they’d know exactly what he was doing to you but you could not care less at that moment.

“Who do you belong to?” His voice was sharp. “Say it. Say you’re mine, or I’ll leave you like this.”

You shook, barely able to breathe. “Yours. I’m yours.”

He leaned down, teeth grazing your ear. “Louder.”

“Yours!” you gasped, voice echoing in the tiny room.

“Yeah, that’s right. And when you walk out of here, everyone’s going to know it. I want my cum leaking down your thighs during the next meeting. I want you thinking about this every time you sit down at your desk. You got that?”

You nodded desperately, tears stinging your eyes from the stretch and the force of his thrusts.

He let go of your wrists, grabbed your hips, and fucked you harder, so rough you saw stars. He reached around and rubbed your clit fast, breath hot against your neck.

“Cum for me, baby.”

You came so hard, whole body seizing in the waves of your orgasm. Your legs shook, almost giving out able to hold you up. Sunghoon kept going, chasing his own release, until he pulled out and came by your legs with a guttural curse.

You let your head fall back against the cabinet, trying to catch your breath. The fury that had burned so hot just minutes ago had dulled into a simmer of exhausted annoyance. You expected to turn around and see Sunghoon already tugging up his pants, smoothing his hair back into place, maybe even tossing a smug remark over his shoulder like "clean yourself up."

But when you looked, he wasn’t walking away. He was still standing behind, holding a handkerchief similar to the one he’d used when you ate together.

And then, to your complete disbelief, he knelt down.

You blinked. "What are you—"

Before you could finish, he was gently wiping the mess off your thighs—his and yours. His touch was careful, the same hands that just made you see stars  now moving with a tenderness that almost made you recoil.

When he finally stood again, you caught the faint but unmistakable flush on the tips of his ears. He avoided your gaze for a moment, brushing his palms against his pants as if trying to rid himself of the moment.

“Did something happen to your car?”

It took you a second to catch up. “Uhm, yeah, it wouldn’t start this morning. It’s at the shop now.”

He nodded once, then looked at you with a neutral expression. “I can give you a ride home. And to work, until it’s fixed.”

You paused mid-motion as you adjusted your tights. That was… surprisingly considerate. Especially coming from someone who usually barked orders instead of offering help.

“I… sure. You can give me a ride home today,” you said cautiously. “As for tomorrow, I’ll think about it.”

His gaze lingered on you for a second longer than and then he nodded again.

“All right then.”

He wasn’t forcing a choice on you this time. How strange.

Later, when the workday finally ended, you waited by your desk. Usually, you were the last one to leave, and tonight was no exception so the office was mostly dark and quiet by the time Sunghoon emerged from his office.

“Ready?” he asked walking over.

“Yes,” you said, grabbing your things and falling into step beside him as you made your way to the elevator. 

There was an odd tension between you, but not the usual  combative kind. This was almost awkward. Because for the first time, you were leaving together without arguing or being forced into it.

Once inside his car, you couldn’t help but remember how hard you’d slammed the door the last time you were here. This time, you shut it gently, settling into the plush seat. Sunghoon glanced at you. “Remind me your your address again.”

You gave it to him, then the rest of the ride was quiet except for the faint music playing on the radio. The air inside the Mercedes was icy cold, and you found yourself rubbing your arms.

“Are you cold?” he asked suddenly, his voice breaking the silence and making you flinch a little.

“A bit. I forgot my jacket at the office,” you admitted.

Without a word, he turned down the AC. You shot him a surprised look and muttered a quiet, “Thanks.”

What were these weird, almost pleasant interactions? It was disorienting, acting as if he hadn’t called you a slut while pounding into you just hours ago.

He pulled up in front of your building. Every rational instinct in you said to just thank him and get out, but the small, reckless part of you that liked these quiet moments won out.

“Would you like to come up?” you asked, the words almost slipping out before you could stop yourself.

Sunghoon looked stunned and was silent for so long you nearly rescinded the offer. But then he switched off the ignition and unbuckled his seatbelt in one smooth motion.

You led the way up the stairs, glancing back with a quick, “Sorry, the elevator’s busted, but I’m only on the third floor.” As you fumbled with your keys, you realized you hadn’t even checked if the place was tidy. Shit. You hadn’t expected any visitors—especially not Park Sunghoon.

You pushed open the door and peeked inside. Not bad. At least your laundry wasn’t everywhere.

“Come in,” you said, stepping aside so he could enter. He took off his shoes, scanning the small apartment with that unreadable expression of his. You couldn’t tell if he was silently judging your shoebox space or mentally praising your attempts at decorating.

“Uhm, I’ll get you something to drink. Tea? Water?”

“Water’s fine,” he replied, following you toward the kitchen.

“Okay, you can just—” You stopped dead in your tracks as your gaze landed on the elephant in the room: your punching bag, standing proud in the corner, with Sunghoon’s picture still taped squarely to its center. His face was staring straight at both of you.

You spun around in a panic to check if he’d noticed, but of course he had.

“I see you have very particular ways of entertaining yourself in here,” he said, amusement curling in his voice.

“Oh, god.” You rushed over, trying to untangle the heavy bag from its hook, but it wouldn’t budge. You tried peeling off the picture, but you’d used so much tape that it refused to budge.

“This is not what it seems,” you stammered, attempting to hide the offending evidence with your body.

He just grinned. “I think it’s exactly what it seems. But don’t worry…I use your pictures to let off steam, too.” He winked, and your mouth dropped open at the implication.

“What—?”

Before things could spiral further, Richard picked that moment to waltz out of your bedroom. The cat sauntered past you and headed straight for Sunghoon, tail held high, eyes curious. Sunghoon crouched down and gave the orange tabby a gentle pat on the head.

“And who is this?” he asked, stroking the soft fur.

“Richard,” you said simply, waiting for his reaction.

His hand froze mid-pet, and he looked up at you, stunned disbelief written all over his face. Then an incredulous laugh burst out of him.

“This is Richard…?” he asked, straightening up, still half-laughing.

“Yup.” You grinned, unable to hide it. “Bet you feel pretty dumb now.”

He shook his head, still smiling. “For getting jealous of a cat?!”

You tried to look innocent, but the satisfaction on your face was impossible to miss. “Guess so.”

“Who names their cat Richard?” Sunghoon asked, raising an eyebrow.

“What’s wrong with the name Richard?”

“That’s a grown man’s name.”

You crossed your arms. “I named him after the tiger in my favorite movie, Life of Pi. It felt appropriate.”

He glanced at the orange tabby. “He hardly looks like a tiger to me.”

“He’s very fierce and wise, actually.” You scratched behind Richard’s ear. “I think he can even sense bad vibes in people. He scratched my ex’s face once and a week later I found out the idiot was cheating.”

Right on cue, Richard tapped Sunghoon’s leg with a paw, then purred the moment Sunghoon scooped him up.

Sunghoon smirked. “Guess my vibes are fine.”

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t trust the judgement of a cat.”

Sunghoon scoffed and scratched beneath Richard’s chin, earning another contented purr. “Can’t believe you named him after a tiger,” he murmured.

“Have you even seen Life of Pi?” you asked, suspicion creeping in.

He shook his head. “I never had the time. There’s a tiger in it, I assume?”

Your jaw dropped. “You work eighty hours a week and still find time to ruin my life, but you can’t spend two hours on one of the best films ever?”

“That’s a bold statement.”

“Sit.” 

A half-smile tugged at his mouth. “Yes, ma’am.”

You queued the movie while Sunghoon lounged stiffly on the couch, Richard curled stubbornly in his lap. You tossed him a blanket both to be polite and because your apartment ran cool at night.

“No commentary until after. I take this movie very seriously.”

“I think I can hold my tongue.”

You explained every detail as the movie played—why Richard Parker was the tiger’s name, the symbolism of whether everything was real or just in Pi’s mind, the parts that always made you cry or laugh. Sunghoon watched, surprisingly attentive, occasionally glancing at you as much as the screen.

At some point, you realized your legs were touching. And somewhere between Pi’s first dazzling storm and his heartbreaking plea to the universe Sunghoon’s shoulder arm slipped behind you on the coach. 

You’d occasionally glance his way, noticing the slight furrow of his thick brows during emotional scenes and the small smiles when something amused him. You had never really seen Sunghoon relax like this, unguarded, his features softening as he became absorbed in the story.

At some point, your exhaustion caught up to you and without even realizing it, your eyelids grew heavy.

It wasn’t until morning sunlight started filtering through the blinds hours later that you woke up. Your cheek was pressed against something warm and firm and blinking sleepily, you realized with a jolt that it wasn’t a pillow… it was Sunghoon’s chest. His arm was loosely wrapped around you, his head tilted slightly, his breathing steady and peaceful.

You’d cuddled in your sleep. Oh lord.

After that accidental night on the couch, everything changed in subtle ways. You weren’t exactly friends, but you weren’t enemies either. He still rolled his eyes at your snark, you still muttered under your breath about his god complex—but now, he took you home every night. 

And somehow, that always turned into “let’s just watch something before bed,” which inevitably became shared popcorn, shared blankets, and shared pillows.

Some nights, you’d fall asleep on opposite ends of the couch and wake up tangled together, Richard squeezed somewhere in the middle like an orange pillow. Other nights, there was lingering heat—a kiss pressed to your shoulder, or the back of your neck, when he thought you were already asleep.

You’d convinced yourself you were fine with this weird in-between. You even ignored the fact that, lately, you kind of wanted him to stay over more. You liked seeing him half awake and soft in your kitchen, hair sticking up, pouring two cups of coffee.

But it couldn’t stay sweet forever.

It happened on a Thursday. You were in the shower, humming to yourself, when you realized you’d left your phone on your bed. Sunghoon, making himself at home in your apartment as always, went to grab it for you when it buzzed but the battery died at that moment. He opened your nightstand drawer, looking for a charger.

And found your stash.

He picked up the monster dildo first, brow arching so high it nearly disappeared into his hairline. The rose toy rolled out right after, bouncing off his knuckle and landing with a soft thud on your sheets.

You stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, hair dripping, only to find Sunghoon standing by your bed, your entire sex toy arsenal on proud display in his hands.

You froze. “What the fuck are you doing?”

He looked up, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Well, well… I always knew you were insatiable, but this is impressive.”

You wanted to melt into the floor. “Put those back.”

He turned the monster dildo over in his palm, appraising it like a weapon. “You actually use this? On yourself?”

You tried to snatch it, but he pulled it just out of reach. “Give it—”

He cut you off with a look that said don’t-even-try, and just like that, all the softness of the past week evaporated.

“Why bother with these?” he asked, stepping closer until your knees hit the bed. “When you’ve got me?”

You glared, embarrassment making your skin burn. “Sometimes you’re not around, asshole.”

His smirk darkened. “Then I guess we better make up for lost time, don’t you think?”

You opened your mouth to argue, but he pressed a hand to your shoulder, pushing you gently to sit on the edge of the mattress. He tossed the toys down beside you, crowding into your space, heat pouring off him in waves.

“Here’s how this is going to go,” he said, voice dropping to a growl. “You’re going to show me exactly how you use these. And then I’m going to show you why you’ll never need them again.”

He slipped your towel down, his eyes devouring every inch of your glistening skin. He picked up the rose toy and flicked it on, the gentle buzz loud in the quiet room.

“Lay back,” he ordered, and you did—body already shaking with anticipation.

He tossed the rose toy onto the bed, its gentle buzz loud in the quiet room. You hesitated, still flushed from the shower, feeling the heat of his gaze as you settled back against your pillows. Sunghoon kneeled at tj, legs spread, dark eyes devouring every inch of your exposed skin.

“Go on,” he murmured, voice low and coaxing. “Show me how you play when you’re alone. I want to see everything.”

You could feel his eyes burning into you as you pressed the toy against your clit, legs falling open wider for him, not just for the toy’s sake but because the hunger in his gaze made you feel more confident. The rose fluttered, sending tiny waves through you, and you couldn’t help the shaky sounds spilling from your lips.

He leaned forward a little, his voice husky. “Shit,” he said quietly. “Do you always fuck yourself this pretty, or is it just because I’m watching?”

Your breath caught, fingers slipping as your thighs tensed. He smirked, settling a hand over your knee to keep you wide open. “Don’t hide from me. I want to see every single thing you do to yourself when you’re alone. I want to know exactly what it takes to make you come when I’m not here.”

You whined, rolling your hips. “Sunghoon—please—”

He watched the toy kiss you, watched you tremble, and his eyes got darker, voice roughening. “I bet you rub yourself like this just wishing it was my tongue instead of that toy.” He let his hand slide up, tracing your thigh, almost but not quite touching where you wanted him. “Or do you imagine my fingers fucking you open, filling you up until you can’t take any more?”

You nodded, too close to care about being coy. The toy buzzed higher and you gasped, feeling your orgasm start to crest.

But his hand shot out, stopping yours, and he leaned in until his mouth hovered right next to your ear. “Don’t come until I say. You know better than that.”

You whimpered in frustration.

He plucked the toy from your hand, turning it off with a click. “You want to come, princess?” he whispered, and the teasing was gone from his tone now, replaced with a darker command. “Open your legs wider. Let me show you how it’s done.”

His mouth was on you a second later. His tongue slid greedily over your clit, circling, then flattening as he sucked. His fingers pressed into you, filling you in a way the toy never could.

His gaze remained locked on your face. His dark eyes never looked as alive as when he was looking up from between your thighs.

“God, you’re so fucking wet,” he groaned, breath warm against your skin. “You really did get yourself worked up for me. You love being watched, don’t you? Love knowing you have all my attention, huh? You are a greedy little thing.”

You couldn’t answer in anything but incoherent mumbles and moans. His hand pressed firmly over your stomach, holding you still as he sucked and licked, working you closer, refusing to give you the mercy of release until he decided you’d earned it.

“Now,” he growled, voice barely more than a snarl, “cum for me now.”

Your body obeyed before your mind could catch up, coming apart in his mouth, trembling and gasping as your orgasm took over—harder than anything that little toy could’ve ever managed. He licked you through it, holding you until you finally stopped shaking.

When he finally detached from you, his mouth was slick, his eyes still hungry. He leaned over, kissing you deep and dirty so you could taste yourself on his tongue, and whispered, “Next time you want to play with your toys, you do it while I watch. Got it?”

As Sunghoon started spending more nights at your place, he made it a habit to try every toy in your collection. He’d probably tried every last one on you, determined to learn which ones made you come the hardest. But his absolute favorite wasn’t from your drawer at all, it was something he picked out and bought himself. A sleek black plug that vibrated on command.

You’d given him attitude about it. He just smiled, handed you the plug, and watched as you put it in before work. That was three hours ago.

Now, you were walking through the office with the plug buried deep inside, thighs clenched tight even though Sunghoon hadn’t so much as touched the remote yet. You couldn’t deny there was a weird thrill in the risk, in not knowing when or if he’d use it. But after weeks together, you also knew that Sunghoon loved pushing your limits… Especially in public.

“Y/N!” Sungchan’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. He caught up to you in the hallway.

You smiled at him, adjusting the stack of files in your arms. “Hi, Sungchan!”

He grinned back and took half your papers before you could protest. “Hey, where have you been lately? We haven’t seen you at a single dinner since the last quarter ended.”

You scrambled for an excuse that didn’t involve confessing that Sunghoon had been monopolizing all your nights lately. “Oh, uh… I had family visiting, so I’ve been showing them around.”

He nodded, believing it. “Ah, I see. Still, it’d be nice if you could make it to the next one. I miss—uh, we miss you over there.”

You smiled back, heart squeezing a bit at his earnestness. “I miss it too. I’ll definitely be there next—AH!”

A sudden jolt of vibration inside you cut your sentence short. Your knees nearly buckled as the plug came to life rocketing through your core.

Sungchan stopped, concern written all over his face. “Are you okay?”

You forced a brittle smile, fighting to stay upright. “Y-yeah, sorry. Leg cramp. Must’ve overdone it at Pilates.”

The toy started again, stronger this time. You bit down a whimper, gripping the papers tighter as your thighs squeezed together in helpless reaction.

You didn’t need to look far for the culprit. Sunghoon strolled out of the copy room at that exact moment, remote hidden in his palm, satisfaction flickering behind his polite mask. He had clearly listened to every word of your conversation and waited for the perfect moment to torture you.

“Oh, boss!” Sungchan said, bowing politely. 

“Everything alright here?” he asked, his eyes never leaving your face. You could tell from the curl at the corner of his mouth that he was enjoying every second of your squirming.

Sungchan nodded, shifting the papers in his arms. “I was just helping Y/N with these reports.”

Sunghoon’s gaze flicked downward, taking in your shaky legs. “Miss Y/L/N, are you feeling alright? You seem… tense.”

You met his eyes, breathless, fighting not to murder him on the spot. “I’m fine. Really. Just… cramps.”

He tilted his head, feigning concern as his thumb rolled the dial a little higher. The vibration inside you grew wicked and relentless.

“Let me know if you need to step away,” he said, voice low and laced with dark amusement. “I wouldn’t want you to be… uncomfortable at work.”

You clenched your jaw and glared at him, vowing silent revenge.

Sungchan stood there awkwardly, still clutching half your paperwork, completely unaware that you were one second away from dropping to your knees from something a lot filthier than “cramps.”

“Miss Y/L/N, a word in my office,” Sunghoon said finally, voice pleasant enough to fool anyone who didn’t know him. His thumb pressed the remote again and another deep vibration nearly made you cry. Your hand shot out, steadying yourself on the wall as Sungchan frowned in concern.

“I’ll take those,” Sunghoon added, collecting the reports from Sungchan with a civil nod. “Thank you, Sungchan. That’ll be all.”

He waited for you to follow, every step a test of your composure. You walked, feeling every throb, every twist of sensation as the plug kept buzzing on and off in random intervals.

As soon as his office door clicked shut, Sunghoon pressed you back against it and his mouth was on your neck. His hand trailed down your spine, under your skirt, gripping your ass with possessive force. You gasped, hips bucking against his.

He didn’t bother hiding his hunger. “On your knees. Right now.”

You dropped, the plush carpet digging into your knees as you looked up at him. Your hands trembled, but he just pressed the remote again, sending another jolt through the toy. He kept his gaze locked on yours, undoing his belt slowly, his cock was already thick and hard when he pulled it out.

“Keep your hands behind your back,” he said, biting his lip. “If you touch me before I say, or if you stop moving, you don’t get to cum. Understand?”

You nodded, biting your lip as he guided himself to your mouth. The plug thrummed inside you again and the sharp waves of pleasure made your whole body twitch. “Speak”

“Yes, sir.”

“Open that pretty mouth,” he said, smirking as you took him in, hollowing your cheeks and letting spit drip down your chin. 

He thrust in shallowly but he was big enough to make you gag. The plug buzzed again matching his rhythm, torturing you until you were a quivering mess.

“So good,” he praised, one hand tangled in your hair as you sucked him down. “Look at you. Fuck, you’re so pretty with my cock in your mouth. You love it, don’t you?”

You whimpered around him, letting your tongue swirl around his, eyes focused on a vein that kept pulsing agains your nose. He pulled out just enough to let you gasp for air, thumb swiping the mess from your lips. “If you want to come, keep working for it.”

You took him back in, letting him fuck your throat while the toy buzzed harder inside you. You were shaking, tears pricking your eyes from the intensity. He watched you mesmerized, drinking in the sight of you debased and ruined.

He pressed the remote, cutting the vibration just as you were about to tip over, and you whined, hips bucking in frustration. He just laughed, thrusting deeper, hips stuttering as you gagged around him, drool and precum slicking your chin.

“Beg for it,” he said, pulling you off with a pop. “Tell me why you deserve to come.”

You sobbed, voice shaking. “Please, Sunghoon, I’ve been good, so good… Please let me come—I need it, I need you—”

He groaned, thumb stroking your cheek. “Yes, such a good girl.” He yanked you to your feet, spinning you and bending you over his desk. 

He pinned you down with one hand between your shoulder blades, while the other finally reached between your legs. He pressed the remote again but on full power this time, the plug vibrating so violently it nearly knocked the sense from you.

He thrust inside, burying himself to the hilt, the sensation almost too much to bear with the toy still inside you. “You cum when I say. Not a second before. Or I’ll leave you aching all night.”

He fucked you hard against his expensive mahogany desk. It’d been a while since you found yourself in this situation.The first time, you'd been on the verge of quitting. Now, you were in so deep the thought of leaving almost felt absurd.

The room filled with the sound of skin on skin. “So fucking tight around my cock, you’re made to be used, aren’t you? You want everyone to know how filthy you are?”

You could only nod, biting the desk to stifle your screams.

When he finally let you come, it was with a snarl of permission. Your body convulsed, legs trembling so hard you nearly collapsed. He followed with a growl, pulling out at the last second to empty himself around your legs.

He leaned in, breath hot on your ear. “You did good, baby. But next time, if you stop for even a second, I’ll edge you in every meeting until you’re begging on your knees in front of everyone.”

He pulled himself into his pants again nd handed you a tissue with a twisted smile. “Don’t you dare take that plug out until I tell you.”

On Friday, you let your best friend Jiah drag you to a tiny café two blocks from the office. It had been weeks since you’d seen her in person, and she was determined to catch up over overpriced pastries and matcha lattes.

Jiah perched on the edge of her seat, eyes bright. “So? How’s the office drama? Last time we talked you were ready to throw a stapler at your boss.”

You forced a laugh, swirling foam with your straw. “The drama hasn’t died but let’s just say my ways of coping are … better.”

She wiggled her brows. “Oooh, do tell.”

You dodged, asking about her family instead. Jiah launched into updates, including a long tangent about her older sister, Yerin.

“You remember Yerin’s boyfriend? The med-school guy?” Jiah said, breaking off a piece of croissant. “She just found out she’s pregnant.”

Your brows shot up. “Seriously? Weren’t they being careful?”

“That’s the thing… They were doing the pull-out method.” Jiah rolled her eyes. “He swore he had ‘great timing’ Turns out pre-cum can have sperm, so… surprise baby.”

You choked on your latte. “Wait, that can happen? I thought it was only risky if—”

“Nope.” She wiped her fingers on a napkin. “Doc told her even a tiny amount can be enough. She was only a week late before the test lit up like a Christmas tree.”

A cold prickle slid down your spine. Two weeks late. You did a quick mental calculation. Your own period was… what, four days overdue now? Maybe five? You’d chalked it up to stress and the whirlwind that was Park Sunghoon, but now every twinge in your body felt like a warning siren.

Jiah kept talking, but her voice blurred under the thud of your own heartbeat. You flashed back to all the times Sunghoon pulled out only at the last second… or sometimes not at all. Most of the times you’d had sex it was either after an argument or an emotional moment where neither of you paid much attention to anything other than getting into each other’s pants. You thought you were safe enough. Apparently you had thought wrong.

“Y/N? You zoning out on me?” Jiah frowned.

“Sorry,” you said quickly, forcing a smile. “Work headache.”

She reached over and squeezed your hand. “Take a break this weekend, okay?”

You nodded and checked your watch, suddenly eager to leave. You hugged her goodbye outside the café, then headed straight to the corner pharmacy. In your mind you could already see two pink lines and Sunghoon’s cold expression.

Inside the bright aisles, you grabbed the first pregnancy test pack you saw, plus a bottle of aspirin for the impending migraine that was coming your way. Receipt in hand, you tucked everything into your bag and headed home, with your stomach in knots.

In the elevator up to your apartment, you pressed a palm to your flat abdomen and exhaled. Maybe your cycle was just off. It wouldn’t be the first time. Still, you couldn’t shake this weird feeling. The memory of Sunghoon’s hands on your hips, his whispered orders, and the way he sometimes pulsed inside you before he pulled out.

Richard greeted you at the door with a questioning meow. You set the test on the bathroom sink, heart pounding so loud you almost didn’t hear him.

“Give me a minute, buddy,” you whispered.

You pulled out tue test and stared at the white stick on the sink like it was a cursed object.

Three minutes. That’s what the instructions said. Wait three minutes to know what the rest of your life would look like. But you were already sweating thirty seconds in, pacing in tight circles while Richard watched from the hallway as if he somehow knew something serious was happening.

You didn’t feel pregnant. Whatever that meant. You felt tired, bloated, a little nauseous…but you’d asummed it all the work stress, Sunghoon, bad sleep, and probably the coffee addiction you’d reignited. You kept telling yourself that. Over and over. But still… your hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

You set a timer on your phone and turned it face down. The longest three minutes of your life ticked by. You tried distracting yourself by doomscrolling and petting Richard. Nothing worked. Your eyes kept flicking toward the bathroom, it was as if the damn test was whispering your name from the counter.

Finally the timer went off and the sound startled you so bad, you had to steel yourself before you flipped the phone and stepped back into the bathroom.

Two lines.

Two very, very pink lines.

You picked up the test with shaky fingers, hoping maybe your vision was just messed up. You held it up to the light. Still two lines. 

“Oh my god.” Your voice came out hoarse. “Oh my god.”

You sank onto the floor, test still in hand in your shaky hands. Your mouth was dry. Your skin felt clammy. The terrifying, irreversible shift of knowing your body wasn’t just yours anymore. 

The idea settled like a stone in your gut. You didn’t know what to feel or think. 

How far along? When did it happen? Was it that night in the bathroom? His apartment? The goddamn copy room?

You pressed your palms into your eyes, trying not to panic. You were smart. It wasn’t like you to miss something as important as using protection. God, it was because Sunghoon distracted you in ways no one else did. 

You glanced down at the test again. Still two lines. Still screaming the same thing.

Richard meowed softly from the doorway. You looked at him, voice barely above a whisper.

“…What the hell am I supposed to do?”

The next morning, you woke up before your alarm, heart pounding with dread and disbelief. The first thing you saw was the positive pregnancy test on your nightstand as undeniable proof of your stupidity. You grabbed your bag and headed to the pharmacy the second it opened. Just to be sure. Maybe the first one was faulty, or expired, or just wrong. It had to be.

But it wasn’t.

You sat in your bathroom, knees drawn to your chest, staring at two pink lines for the second time in twelve hours. No matter how many times you blinked, they didn’t change. You called your doctor’s office and managed to snag an appointment for later that afternoon.

Now came the harder part which was getting out of work. That meant you had to face Sunghoon.

You waited until after the rush of meetings to slip into his office. He was at his desk, brow furrowed over some report. He barely looked up.

“What is it?” His tone was brisk, but you could hear the familiar thread of concern woven through.

You forced yourself to keep your expression neutral. “I need to leave a little early today. I, uh, have a personal appointment.”

His eyes flickered up. “What kind of appointment?”

You felt your pulse spike. “Just… some stuff I’ve been putting off. Nothing serious.” You tried to sound casual, but even to your own ears it was a little too shaky.

He didn’t look convinced. “You don’t usually ask to leave early. Are you feeling okay?”

You nodded too quickly. “Fine. It’s nothing, really.”

He watched you for a long moment, then nodded, though his gaze was sharper now. “All right. You can go. Just let me know if you need anything.”

You managed a tight smile, thanked him, and hurried out. The relief was only temporary. You felt his eyes on you as you packed up your bag later. You kept your head down, moving quickly through the halls, trying to breathe. You just needed to get out without drawing attention.

But as you stepped out onto the sidewalk, you heard your name.

“Y/N.”

You turned to see Sunghoon coming after you. He stopped in front of you, face tight with concern.

“What’s going on?” he asked quietly, lowering his voice. “You’ve been weird all week, and now you’re leaving in the middle of the day. Did something happen? Is someone bothering you?”

You tried to keep your voice steady. “I told you, I just have an appointment.”

He studied you, eyes searching your face for the truth. “If it’s something serious, you know you can tell me, right?”

You couldn’t meet his gaze. “It’s nothing you need to worry about. I promise.”

He didn’t move. “Y/N—”

“I’ll be back tomorrow. I just… need a day, okay?” You stepped around him, heart pounding.

He watched you go, suspicion and worry etched into every line of his face.

You barely noticed the city traffic as you made your way to your doctor’s office. Part of you wished you could just tell him, have him hold you, promise that everything would be all right. But you weren’t ready.

And you had no idea what he’d do when he finally found out.

You spent the entire afternoon at the clinic—filling out forms with trembling hands, answering questions you barely heard, and then sitting through the blood test, heart racing the whole time. The nurse gave you a gentle smile as she bandaged your arm, telling you the results would be ready the next day. You nodded numbly, thanked her, and collected your things. You felt both lighter and heavier at once—like the truth was closing in from all sides.

Outside, dusk was already settling over the city. You wrapped your coat tighter around you and pushed through the clinic doors, bracing for cold air and the blur of street noise.

What you didn’t expect was to see Sunghoon leaning against the rail, arms crossed, his gaze locked on the entrance like he’d been waiting there for hours.

You stopped short, a fresh wave of anxiety crashing through you. “Sunghoon?”

He looked you up and down, his eyes dark with worry. “So it was a doctor’s appointment.”

You opened your mouth, but no words came out. You clutched your purse tighter.

“Are you sick?” he asked quietly, stepping closer, scanning your face for any sign of injury or pain. “Or is it something worse?”

You shook your head quickly, voice barely more than a whisper. “No. I’m not sick.”

He exhaled, but didn’t relax. “Then what is it? You’ve been acting strange all week. Avoiding me, lying about where you’re going—” He broke off, jaw working. “Are you in trouble? Is someone—?”

“No,” you said, sharper than you meant. “It’s not like that. I just… I needed to figure some things out on my own first.”

He let that hang in the air, the weight of your silence stretching between you. Finally, he spoke, voice much softer. “Okay… and did you figure it out?”

You looked away, blinking hard. “I’ll know tomorrow,” you managed. 

He nodded slowly, studying you for a long moment before speaking again. “I have an important meeting, but I’ll take you home first.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I do. Come on.”

He extended his hand toward you, and for a second, you hesitated. But eventually, your fingers curled around his. You’d never walked together like this before—hand in hand, quiet, deliberate—and it felt oddly intimate. Like a threshold you weren’t sure either of you had meant to cross.

If you were pregnant… would Sunghoon want to make things official? Would he ask you to be with him just because of a child? You weren’t even sure what you were to him now. But the thought grew heavier with each step you took beside him.

You bit down on your quivering lip, stopping without meaning to.

“What is it?” he asked, turning to face you. His brow furrowed when he saw your eyes glassy with tears. He stepped close and framed your face with gentle palms. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“I…” You didn’t want to tell him yet, not until you were completely sure. But it felt like a weight on your chest, making it harder to breathe. And when he looked at you like that, with concern instead of distance, part of you wanted to believe he wouldn’t hate you.

“I took a pregnancy test yesterday.”

His thumb paused its soothing sweep across your cheek. You swallowed. “Two tests, actually…They were both positive.”

He didn’t speak for eight whole seconds. You counted. And in those eight seconds, your mind conjured every worst-case scenario. Maybe he’d pull away and leave. Maybe he’d say you did this on purpose, and accuse you of trying to trap him. Maybe he’d deny it was even his.

“You’re pregnant?” was all he said, softly.

He didn’t look angry. Or disgusted. Just… serious. Like he was processing.

“I don’t know,” you replied quickly, heart racing. “The tests aren’t always accurate. I looked it up… if they’re expired or stored too long, they can give false results. Or if you think you’re pregnant, your body can sometimes trick itself, and the hormone levels get messed up and—” You stopped, breath catching. “I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

He watched you quietly, then asked, “And you got blood work today?”

You nodded. “Yeah. But the lab closed early, so I won’t get results until tomorrow.”

“Okay,” he said, exhaling. “I’ll come with you.”

“You really don’t have to—”

“Yes, I do. Of course I do.” His tone was firm but not angry. “Y/N, I’m just as involved in this as you. Just… don’t push me away, alright?”

You looked up into his eyes and, for a moment, saw a flicker of emotion you’d never seen before. Maybe he was nervous too, but he was holding it together for both of you. He didn’t seem angry. If anything, he seemed determined to stay.

It was the first time in days you didn’t feel completely alone. You let yourself lean into that support, just for now.

When you got to your apartment, Sunghoon decided to stay, and you didn’t protest. The thought of being alone right now was almost unbearable.

“Are you hungry? I’m assuming you didn’t eat lunch today,” he said, slipping off his suit jacket.

“Uh… yeah, actually. I didn’t.” You only just realized how hollow your stomach felt.

“I’ll make something for you,” he offered.

You turned your head slowly on the couch, eyeing him skeptically. “You cook?”

“I’m not the best,” he admitted, rolling up his sleeves. “But I make the best fried abalone you’ll ever taste.”

“Really…” you said, doubt dripping from your tone.

He cracked a grin. “You’ll see.”

Turns out he did make the best butter-fried abalones you’d ever tasted. And this was coming from someone who’d always been on the fence about seafood. You scraped your plate nearly clean, only stopping when you realized licking it would cross some sort of line.

You let out a blissed sigh. “This food just fucked me and sucked me good.”

Sunghoon paused mid-bite, eyes flicking up with a look of disbelief and amusement. “I’ve never had my cooking reviewed quite like that.”

You laughed, patting your stomach happily. “No, seriously. If I knew you could cook like this, I would’ve locked you up in my apartment weeks ago.”

He set down his chopsticks, grinning. “Oh yeah? Tell me more about this scenario.”

“I’m not joking! I’ve basically been living off ramen and fast food for months. Half the time I barely manage a smoothie before work.”

He tilted his head, giving you a look that was half playful, half serious. “That won’t do. Especially if…” His gaze slid to your stomach and stayed there, almost protectively. “If you really are pregnant, you’re going to need proper meals.”

You cleared your throat, suddenly overwhelmed by the image of a domestic Sunghoon cooking in your kitchen, massaging your sore feet, texting you pictures of baby onesies, reading articles about parenting and sending you dumb memes about fatherhood. 

Stop. You can’t do this to yourself.

Even if you were pregnant, that didn’t mean you’d suddenly fall in love and ride off into a pastel colored domestic fantasy with Park Sunghoon. You barely tolerated each other just a few months ago. You couldn’t afford to forget that.

You shook your head with a weak laugh. “I can’t believe this is happening. If you’d told me last year I’d be having a pregnancy scare with my boss… the same boss who made me bite my nails bloody from stress, I would’ve died laughing.”

Sunghoon’s smile faded a bit as he mulled that over. “I’m sorry for treating you that way.” 

You looked up, surprised by the earnestness in his voice.

“I mean it. I… I don’t really have an excuse. But if I had to give you one, I guess it’s because I wanted your attention.”

You blinked, surprised. “You wanted my attention?”

He nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. I know I went about it the absolute worst way, but I’ve never really been good at… expressing things. And you were so closed off to me at first. It felt like the only way I could get you to even look at me was to—well, be an asshole.”

You weren’t sure what to say. His apology wasn’t perfect, but it was genuine and oddly vulnerable. 

“I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow,” you said at last. “But… thank you for being here.”

He met your eyes. “Whatever the result is, you won’t handle it alone. I mean that.”

You didn’t sleep much. Every time you closed your eyes, your mind spun through a reel of possible futures—some terrifying, some strangely sweet, all overwhelming. By sunrise, you’d already been awake for hours, lying in bed with Richard stretched across your ankles, thinking about what the day might bring.

You moved through your morning routine on autopilot, barely tasting your coffee, feeling your nerves build with every tick of the clock. Work had never seemed so impossible. How were you supposed to focus on emails and deadlines when your entire life could be about to change?

By the time you arrived at the office, the overhead lights felt too bright and the air too cold. You kept your head down, clutching your bag a little tighter than usual as you made your way to your desk.

Sunghoon walked in a few minutes after you. You’d agreed to arrive separately to keep things from looking suspicious but even so, when he passed your desk, his eyes couldn’t help but flick your way for just a moment.

You tried to lose yourself in your work so the day would go basted, but it didn’t work. Every ping from your computer made you jump. Every time someone said your name, your heart pounded.

Mina, your coworker, leaned over the divider. “Hey, are you okay? You look kind of pale.”

You offered a thin smile. “Yeah, just didn’t sleep well.”

She nodded, not pressing, but you could feel her worry lingering as she turned back to her monitor. You wished you could tell her. The secret felt too big to hold, like it might crack open and spill everywhere at any moment.

A few hours later, as you were rereading the same email for the third time, you felt someone pause beside your desk. You didn’t even have to look up to know who it was.

“Can I see you in my office?” Sunghoon’s voice was soft enough that only you could hear.

You followed him. The short walk down the hallway felt impossibly long, every step echoing your anxiety. When the door closed behind you, the world shrank to just the two of you.

He didn’t go behind his desk but leaned back against the edge, watching you for a moment. “How are you feeling?”

It was a simple question, but it nearly broke you. You looked away, blinking fast. “Nervous… and tired. I barely slept.”

He nodded, hands fidgeting with the edge of the desk. “Me too.” A pause. “I kept thinking about a lot of things.”

You looked at him then. He looked tired too, circles under his eyes, the usual sharpness of his appearance dulled by something softer. “I thought about a lot of things too,” you admitted quietly. “What if I am? What if I’m not? I can’t even figure out what I want to happen.”

He let out a slow breath. “Me neither. I used to think I’d hate the idea… you know, of being responsible for someone else, losing control over my own life. But the last couple days… it’s been all I can think about. I keep imagining what it would be like.”

There was a long silence. You watched the morning light creep across his office, a bright line cutting between you on the floor.

“But no matter what happens at that appointment, I want you to know I’m here. I mean it. I know I’ve been an asshole before, but I’m not going anywhere.”

You felt something tight in your chest loosen just a little.

“Thank you,” you said, meaning it more than you thought possible.

You stood there, both of you, caught in a moment that felt both terrifying and fragile and knowing the day ahead would change everything, one way or another.

By the time you left the office, the sky was navy. You walked the two blocks to the clinic in near silence, but it wasn’t awkward. Rather, it felt like gathering strength. Halfway there, Sunghoon slipped his fingers between yours.

You paused in front of the clinic, breaths streaming white in the cold air. Inside waited an envelope with your name and a single line of text that could redraw your future.

Sunghoon rubbed your knuckles with his thumb. “Ready?”

You looked up at him. The sharp boss, the reluctant cook, the man who’d stayed when he could have run—all in one complicated silhouette. 

You inhaled, exhaled, and nodded. “Let’s do this.”

The clinic’s waiting room was almost empty this late in the evening. A muted newscast flickered across a wall-mounted TV; the only other patient was a teen scrolling on her phone. You and Sunghoon sat in the far corner, coats draped over your laps, hands still laced together. Every tick of the reception clock seemed amplified.

You tried counting your breaths—four in, four out—but your pulse wouldn’t slow. If it’s positive, life will change tonight.Strangely, the thought no longer panicked you as it had twenty-four hours ago. Sunghoon’s steady grip helped anchor that.

A nurse finally appeared and called your name. You rose; he rose with you. She led you down a short hallway into a small consultation room, pastel posters about prenatal vitamins on the walls. A moment later Dr. Han entered with a file—your file—clasped to her chest. She greeted you both with the same gentle warmth as the day before and took a seat opposite.

You could feel Sunghoon’s thumb tracing a slow circle over your knuckles. He was outwardly calm, but his hand was slightly clammy.

Dr. Han opened the folder. “Good evening. I have the results of your quantitative hCG test.” She looked up, meeting your gaze first, then Sunghoon’s. “It’s negative. You’re not pregnant.”

The words settled like falling snow—soft, definitive, almost silent. For a heartbeat you simply stared, processing. Not pregnant. Relief rushed in, light and dizzying… and then something else, a bittersweet pang that surprised you.

Sunghoon exhaled so slowly you felt it more than heard it. He squeezed your hand once, gently. There was no visible disappointment or joy—just that same grounded steadiness he’d shown all day.

Dr. Han continued, explaining the false positives. “They can happen for a few reasons: chemical pregnancies that end very early, residual hCG from a recent miscarriage, certain fertility medications, even test strips that have degraded in storage. Urine tests are convenient, but they’re not infallible. Your bloodwork is conclusive, though—there’s no ongoing pregnancy.”

You nodded, swallowing. “Thank you for explaining.”

She offered a reassuring smile, discussed cycle-tracking apps, suggested a follow-up if your period remained irregular, and then excused herself. When the door clicked shut, you finally let your shoulders drop.

Sunghoon didn’t speak right away. Instead, he reached up with his free hand and brushed a loose strand of hair from your forehead, tucking it gently behind your ear. The gesture was so tender it made your throat ache.

“So,” you managed, voice barely above a whisper, “no baby.”

“No baby,” he echoed softly.

You waited for the wave of relief to crest. It did—but it carried an undertow of unexpected wistfulness. You glanced at him, searching his face for clues. He met your eyes and seemed to read the question there.

“I thought I’d feel only relief,” he admitted, tone quiet, honest. “But I… don’t. Not entirely.”

You let out a shaky laugh. “Me either. How weird is that?”

He stepped closer, still holding your hand, his other palm settling warm against your cheek. “Maybe it’s not weird,” he said. “These last few days… thinking about what might happen. It made me see things differently.”

You felt tears prick but didn’t look away. “Differently how?”

He drew a steady breath, the corners of his mouth lifting in a small, almost shy smile—an expression you’d never thought possible on Park Sunghoon. “I realized I want more than late-night reports and stress-induced hookups. I want… an us.Maybe a house that smells like butter-fried abalones,”—the smile widened when you laughed—“and maybe, someday, an actual crib. Not because we panicked into it, but because we chose it together.”

Your heart thudded, a warm bloom spreading through your chest. “You’re serious?” you whispered.

“I’ve never been more serious.” He cupped both hands around your face now, thumb brushing the skin under your eye. “I’ve always been good at work and terrible at feelings. You make me want to fix the second part.”

You covered his hands with yours. “I want that too,” you said, the truth ringing clear once you spoke it. “I want to see what us looks like when it’s not tangled up in deadlines and copy-room insanity.”

He kissed your forehead softly then rested his own against it. “Then we start slow. We can go on real dates, have real conversations.” A wry grin tugged at his lips. “And maybe slightly fewer vibrating toys at the office.”

You laughed, leaning into him, feeling lighter than you had in months. “Deal. Although the toys are negotiable.”

“Good.” He kissed you properly this time, full of promise rather than urgency. When he pulled back, his eyes were warm. “Hungry?”

“Starving.”

“Great,” he said, entwining your fingers as you headed for the door. “Because I’ve been perfecting my abalone recipe.”

“Is that so?” you teased, bumping his shoulder. “Guess I’ll have to lock you in my kitchen for real then.”

His laugh echoed down the hallway, and you felt the future open wide.

Epilogue- 8 Months Later

You sat perched on the padded table, swinging your feet lightly, dressed in a pale blue smock. Your hands were folded over your barely-there bump.

You were twelve weeks along.

Sunghoon was sitting in the chair beside you, one leg crossed over the other, fingers drumming lightly on his thigh. His tie was loosened, sleeves rolled to his elbows. Despite the long day at work, he didn’t look tired. If anything, he looked anxious. 

“I still don’t get how it happened this fast,” you muttered under his breath, glancing sideways at him. “We were careful.”

He shrugged, lips tugging into a small smile. “Were we? I remember at least two times that we definitely weren’t.”

“Two?” You blinked. “I can name at least four.”

He laughed softly, leaning closer and resting his hand against your belly. “Well. One of them worked.”

The nurse came in, breaking the moment. “Doctor Han will be in shortly to do your first ultrasound,” she said kindly. “You’ll be able to hear the heartbeat today.”

Sunghoon stiffened beside you. You reached out and took his hand without looking. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, but the word cracked slightly. “I just… hearing it makes it real.”

You squeezed his hand. “It is real.”

He nodded once. “I know. Doesn’t mean I’m not scared shitless.”

You turned to him, voice gentle. “Me too, but we have each other.”

He brought your joined hands to his lips and kissed your knuckles. “Always.”

The doctor arrived shortly after, warm and chatty as always. You laid back on the table and pulled the gown open. The cold jelly over your stomach made you jolt. Sunghoon stood by your side, fingers still laced in yours, eyes glued to the screen scared that he might miss it if he blinked.

And then there it was. A grainy flicker, pulsing steadily in the center of the screen.

“That’s the heartbeat,” the doctor said with a small smile. “It sounds strong and regular. Everything looks perfect.”

The sound filled the room like thunder. Tiny, rapid thuds that made your chest swell. You blinked fast, swallowing the lump in your throat. When you looked up at Sunghoon, his eyes were glassy.

He was crying. Not a lot—just one tear, maybe two—but the sight floored you.

He didn’t say a word. Just leaned down and kissed your forehead, staying there for a long second, breathing you in.

Later, in the car, he reached for your hand again and said quietly, “I don’t think I knew what love really felt like until now.”

You looked over, a bit surprised. “Because of the baby?”

“Because of you,” he said. “And now… both of you.”

You turned your face toward the window, hiding the stupid smile curling on your lips, blinking fast again.

At home, Richard sat perched on the windowsill as usual like a little orange gargoyle. When you kicked off your shoes, he jumped down and padded over to inspect you.

Sunghoon leaned in from behind, resting both hands over your stomach. “Alright, Richard. You’d better get used to sharing her.”

Richard meowed.

You smiled. “That sounded like reluctant acceptance to me.”

“Good enough,” Sunghoon murmured, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

The house felt warm and safe. There were butter abalones in the microwave and ultrasound photos on the kitchen counter.

And for the first time in your life, waiting didn’t feel scary.

feedback is always appreciated! <3 tysm for reading

[weakformingyu]

@baby-yongbok COME GET YOUR MEN!!! THEY ARE TRYING TO BIAS WRECK ME!!!

[weakformingyu]

Stray Heart: Rent-a-Boyfriend | Opening

SYSTEM ONLINE... [Welcome back, Chili.] [You have 8 active boyfriends and 113 unread customer thirst submissions.] Initializing matchmaking protocol...

The lights in the Stray Hearts lounge flicker to life as the holographic interface flares above the round table.

“Chili, tell me again why I’m being rented out like a luxury car?” Chan leans back in his seat, brows raised, already overwhelmed by the growing number of submission notifications on his tablet .

The AI buzzes cheerfully from the overhead speaker. “Because you're luxury, Christopher. High value, limited edition, and people cry when they have to return you.”

Changbin snorts from across the room, setting down a protein bar on a surface with a clear DO NOT TOUCH sign over it. “What if someone actually falls in love, though?”

The system pauses, Chili’s hologram shifts, “Then I charge them an emotional damage fee. You are not built for monogamy. It's in the fine print.”

“Good to know,” Han hums, spinning in his chair. “What’s my official role again?”

“Chaos distribution,” Chili replies, deadpan. “Displaying emotional terrorism while remaining completely clueless to the consequences.”

Han gives a satisfied nod. “Yeah, that tracks.”

“This entire system is flawed,” Seungmin mutters, leaning back with legs crossed as he scrolls through his mock profile on the tablet in his lap .

“And yet here you are,” Chili answers sweetly. “Booked out through the weekend. Would you like me to cancel this Friday’s paycheck? Please confirm.” Seungmin scoffs, glaring at the hologram and clicking decline on the pop up on his tablet.

“I didn’t think so.” Chili’s projection shifts again.

Hyunjin looks up from the window he’s been using as a mirror, carefully reapplying his lip tint. “Can I bring flowers to my dates?”

“You are required to,” Chili confirms. “you also have the option of a handwritten poem, cologne that you can't wash out, and twelve condoms of any brand listed on your tablet.”

“Why are magnums not listed?” Chan asks and the system doesn’t miss a beat. 

“None of you need them.” The silence that follows is paired with at least four glares to the interface above the table. She stares back. It’s true. 

Felix bounces onto the couch beside Changbin, unfazed and puppy-eyed. “What if someone cries?”

“Then hold them, praise them, rail them gently, and bake apology cookies. A coupon code will be sent to their email for their next purchase.”

Lee Know raises a brow from where he lounges, legs kicked over the arm of his chair. “Do I actually have to be nice?”

Chili doesn’t shift this time. The interface stays facing Changbin who now has Han in a ‘practice headlock’ as he called it. “Absolutely not. In fact, I strongly recommend the opposite. The more you glare, the faster they fold.”

Jeongin strolls in late, ruffling his hair. “Do I get paid for this?”

“In orgasms? Yes. In money? No. In power? Potentially. Please hold any further questions. Dispatch will commence in twenty seconds.”

“Seconds?” They ask in unison, sitting up straight just as a new pop up displays on their tablets.

LOADING CLIENT INTERFACE...Welcome, hopeless romantics. You’re here because you made a questionable decision. We’re here to make it worse.

Event Taglist: @bunnies-only @chrisbangsass @puccaaak @beal-o @jinniesgirl

All Content Taglist: @wealwayskeepfighting @whokno-ows @stay-tiny-things @yaorzu-blog @krayzieestay @nxtt2-u  @armystay89 @kayleefriedchicken @compersian  @kibs-and-bits @whokno-ows @poppet05 @estella-novella @unbel1ve4ble @pixie-felix @catsforlife6864 @lisaskz @chloe-elise-2000 @jaeminie-cricket @gingerrracha @wickedbutlovely @lolareadsimagines @h00d-tr4sh @felixleftchickennugget @jeyelleohe @hanjiyunho @yourfavoriteakutagawakinnie @iminc0gnito - @dreamingaboutjisung @lixiluvs @lghtdarling @teddy-stay , @baconcupcakes123,, @soulsbbg , @stay-bi , @yzsqu , @lghtdarling @joonkki @my_neurodivergent_world @tricky-ritz @linospetsitter @0sunshinecryptid0 @miyaluvvsyou @Chansfavoriterubberducky @Felixleftchickennugget @babygay2005 @stellasays45 @corgilover20 @bx-lov3 @myrkhive @kttb @rockstarkkami @cowboylikemalika @angellcvkes @Caitlyn98s @camryn-haitani @Felixsonlyrealwife @binnie-c @highkeyinlovewithhanjisung @bbokarismeow @hannahlue @nctdreamchaser @tangerineastronaut @lezleeferguson-120 @d4ily-s-nsh1ne @staytinyluva @iyenabi @sammhisphere @hhjlvr @geni-627 @thvsuga @staytinyluva @breakmeoff @broken-glowsticks @mariteez @f3lix-l33 @felixsluvrr

[weakformingyu]

SHUT UPPPPPPPPPP

I LOVE CHILI'S BEAUTIFUL MIND!!!!

STRAY HEARTS: RENT-A-BOYFRIEND

⤷ Agent Assigned: Kim Seungmin x afab!reader ⤷ Client Scenario: A formal gala event with the unwelcomed presence of an ex-fiancée ends with three times the customer satisfaction ⤷ Case Warnings: protected sex, car sex (public sex), cowgirl, oral (f.rec), fingering (f.rec), multiple orgams (f.rec) ⤷ WC: 3k ♡ Stray Hearts File: 001 of 015 ⋆｡‧˚ʚ Masterlist ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Your match is 2 minutes away. 

The dot on the Rent-a-Boyfriend app inches closer,  your nerves are taut under the smooth line of your gown. He’s almost here. One minute away now.

Your screen glows dim under the table you were dragged to by a new hire who talks too much and thinks that the two of you are friends. You aren't, but for now, you'll pretend. It's better than looking like you're alone while your ex-fiancée flaunts that blonde from accounting like she's a rare Rolex. 

Part of you hates him, another part of you wishes you didn't. Maybe then it wouldn't be so painful to see him at events like this. Not because you miss him, no. It’s because he’s an asshole.

Your colleague laughs at a joke someone else told and you take the opportunity to slip away. You swipe a glass of champagne off of a nearby tray and drink it too fast to be considered well mannered.

Then—because the universe loves a well timed fuck-you—that’s exactly when he shows up. Your ex.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” he says, all smug in his navy tux, hand already on the waist of the bright-eyed blonde. Her dress is too tight and bright for a gala, you can tell she doesn’t care.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” you answer coolly, fingers clutching your clutch tighter than necessary.

He shrugs. “Just thought it might be hard, ya know. Coming alone.” You don’t flinch. You smile. He’s twenty seconds away.

Your ex opens his mouth again—probably to drop some condescending bomb about how he’s “sure you’ll find someone someday”—when a hand touches the small of your back, large and warm. Splayed right over the slight curve in your spine.

“Sorry I’m late, sweetheart,” a low, syrupy voice interrupts. “Parking was a nightmare.”

Your ex turns just in time to see ‘your man’ step into view, black suit like it was made just for him, tie knotted clean enough to tell that he’s done this before. 

“Kim Seungmin,” he says smoothly, nodding once at your ex, unbothered, eyes dark but gleaming like he’s already getting a kick out of this. “Director of Strategy at Asan Tech. You are?” 

The lie rolls off his tongue like he truly believes it. Hell, it was believable. Even though all he did was spell NASA backwards and slap tech at the end… your ex seems to buy it. You attribute it to the way Seungmin carries himself. There’s a velvet air to him. Something that says ‘I’m barely trying and I’m still better than you’. Something that makes you feel hot in places you shouldn’t, but still, you hold onto his arm a bit tighter.

Your ex stiffens, mouth twitching as he mutters his name. “She and I used to—”

“Ah,” Seungmin cuts in, tone dipped in amusement. “One of those tragic mistakes she doesn’t talk about.”

You almost choke.

Your ex bristles. The blonde is too busy gawking at your man to notice.

Seungmin leans in just a bit, hand resting naturally over yours where you hold him. “Shall we?” he murmurs in your ear, like you’re lovers who never stay at one stop for too long. Easily bored by those who are clearly not on your level. 

Once you’re away from the blast zone and seated at your assigned table, you lean in. “Director of Strategy?”

He shrugs, unbothered. “Would’ve gone with CEO, but I didn’t want to emasculate him so hard he goes to HR in the morning. You’re welcome.”

You scoff. “You really think you're charming, don't you?” he’s too busy swiping a glass of champagne from a passing server to look your way. You take the opportunity to assess him properly—sharp jaw line, glowing skin, dark eyes that challenge you just right—then he looks back your way, sliding a glass over.

“Charming enough that you picked me,” he says, not missing a beat. “From just a picture too, so yes. I do.”

You roll your eyes and sip your champagne, but the way he watches you over the rim of his glass—lazy, amused, like you’re his entertainment for the evening, not a client—makes your chest feel tight.

Now dinner starts. 

The seating chart is a set up. Your ex and his blonde arm candy are across from you and Seungmin at the long table. The tablecloth is ivory, the centerpieces are gaudy, and the blonde is still chewing her gum. Too loud, too absent minded. Your ex is bragging about god knows what to some senior employee he’s clearly trying to kiss up to. He always was a sell out. 

Then there’s Seungmin— sitting with one arm draped across the back of your chair, legs spread just wide enough to toe the line between casual and cocky. He looks like he owns the place. He hasn’t looked at the menu. Hasn’t looked at the servers. Hasn’t even glanced at the table of executives eyeing you both with thinly veiled curiosity.

His eyes are only on you.

“You’re staring,” you mutter, sipping your water without meeting his gaze.

“You’re wearing that dress,” he replies like it’s something he’s used to. Something that routinely poisons his self control. “I’m just appreciating the craftsmanship.”

Your mouth twitches. “The fabric?”

“No.” He leans in, voice low and heat-laced. “The body in it.”

You nearly choke. Again.

He smirks, eyes never leaving your flushed expression.

Across the table, your ex keeps glancing over. His date is talking to someone else entirely and that senior exec he was trying to butter up keeps avoiding eye contact with him. You’ve knocked him off his game. And damn it feels good.

Seungmin’s fingers brush your knee under the table. Casual. Intentional. A distraction. You jolt just a little—surprised but not displeased. He still hasn’t looked away from you, even as he speaks loud enough for nearby ears to hear. “Thank you for bringing me tonight, baby.”

You blink, you wanna say that he had no choice, that he’s literally being paid by the minute but you smile instead “I hope that you’re enjoying yourself, honey.”

The smirk that he offers you is disarming, practiced and perfected. “Of course I am. It’s not every day I get to be the hottest man in the room with the most stunning woman on my arm. Free drinks are just a bonus.”

You roll your eyes, still smiling despite yourself. “You really practice lines like that in the mirror, don’t you?” your voice is a whisper, he watches your lips then leans in just close enough for his own to brush your cheek. 

“Only the ones that work.” Your cheeks heat, you clear your throat. How is he so good?

When the first course is served, Seungmin finally looks away. He glances at the plate like it personally offended him, then back at you. “That’s a leaf.”

“It’s arugula.”

“It’s offensive.”

You laugh under your breath, shaking your head. His expression is dead serious as he forks the salad like he’s the one filing a complaint with HR in the morning. The woman next to you—a junior VP with a Cartier bracelet and gossip glinting in her eyes—leans over.

“So,” she says with a saccharine smile. “You two are precious. How long have you been seeing each other?”

You freeze.

Seungmin, however, doesn’t even blink. “Six months,” he says smoothly, setting his fork down. “Met at a conference out of town. She was wearing red lipstick and giving dirty looks to the panelists. I knew I was doomed but I just had to know her name.”

You stare. Impressed.  

“Oh, wow,” the woman laughs, hand fluttering. “That’s so…romantic.”

“It wasn’t,” he deadpans. “She told me I was boring before I even introduced myself.”

“I wasn’t wrong,” you shoot back, playing along now. “He was quoting Plato to a bartender.”

“And you ordered vodka cranberry like a nineteen year old trying to blackout before curfew.”

“Excuse me for having taste.” The man beside Seungmin chuckles awkwardly, clearly unsure if you’re flirting or fighting. 

Seungmin reaches over and gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. Too gently. His fingers linger just a second too long. “Noona is even prettier when she’s mean.” he says casually before taking a sip of wine. You dig your nails into his thigh under the table, a silent sign to shut the hell up. His mouth twitches.

Asshole.

He’s a cocky, smooth, handsome asshole.

When you glance at him, your ex is glaring at you and the blonde is gawking at Seungmin once again. It even seems that a few other ladies at the table have joined her in appraising your man.

Mission successful. 

The rest of the night is performance art. He knows just how to lean in, just how to touch you without looking like he’s trying. When he laughs, it feels unrehearsed. When he calls you “baby” in front of a coworker, it sounds like he’s said it a thousand times before.

You don’t know how much of it is an act anymore. You don’t know which one of you is blurring the lines. You just know that nothing feels clear right now. 

You reach for your glass again. Just as you realize he’s watching you again, leaned back with heart eyes so convincing you forget the arrangement for a beat.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you say.

“Like what?”

“Like this isn’t pretend.”

He hums. “Tell me what part’s pretend, and I’ll stop.”

You don’t have an answer.

So you take another sip. You let his hand rest on your thigh for the rest of the meal, thumb tracing light circles while he tells some made up story about a trip you two took to Aruba. And he just keeps looking at you.

· · ─ ·♡· ─ · ·

The night winds down with speeches and too many fake laughs. Your heels start to pinch. Your wine glass stays half-full, untouched now because if you drink anymore, you’ll say something reckless.

Finally, when the gala begins to thin out, you slip your arm into his and walk toward the parking lot. The night air is a welcome relief—crisp and clean compared to the stifling heat inside, or maybe it was just the warmth of his hand on your lower back for the past twenty minutes.

“Did I play the role well enough for you?” he asks, tone dry.

You toss him a glance. “Yup. You were just the right amount of asshole.” He smirks, small and lethal. You ignore the way it makes your chest flutter. “You nearly made me believe it.” 

“You looked like you were enjoying yourself.”

“And you looked like you do this every weekend.”

“I might,” he says, holding your gaze for just a second before letting his eyes slowly wander down, tracing curves that his fingers have ‘mindlessly’ grazed all night. “But I think tonight has been my favorite.”

There’s a pause. Too long.

You shift your weight, wrap your arms tighter around yourself.

“I’ll give you a five-star review,” you mutter, pretending not to feel how charged everything is. “Maybe even a tip. Maybe.”

His lips curve. “Don’t tip me unless I earn it.”

Your eyes flick down to his lips and the champagne from earlier starts speaking for you “Oh? So, is there a way you want to earn it?”

He steps closer, one hand reaching out to fix your necklace—slow, deliberate, far too intimate for a stranger.

“Maybe,” he says, voice dropping low. “The dinner was nice but that was just foreplay.” Your breath catches.

Seungmin reaches past you and pulls open your car door. The back door. You look behind you, then up at him, eyebrows raised. “You’re serious?”

He doesn’t respond, only looks at you with dark eyes that say get in loud and clear. You don’t move, so he does, a small step forward to close the gap between you.

“You hired me,” he says calmly. “Let me finish the job.”

There’s something daring in his voice that makes your thighs clench without permission. You’ve seen his reviews, you knew this was on the table—hell, you’d hoped for it.

Seungmin watches you just as he has all night, Studying. Jaw clenching when his eyes flick to how your tongue darts out to wet your lips. You bat your lashes once, twice, then turn and slide into the seat.

The door shuts behind you. He walks around the other side of the car, no rush, and gets in next to you. Then, with the quiet click of the door lock and the parking lot streetlamps painting amber along the sharp cut of his jaw, he turns to you.

“You’re tense,” he says, reaching over to touch your knee, fingers brushing under the hem of your dress. “Let me help.”

Then he kisses you. Hard. Like this is the part of the job he looks forward to. Like he’s been counting down the seconds until he could ruin you and call it customer service.

Your head tilts back instinctively, one of his hands cradles the back of your neck. The other finds your waist, sliding down to the curve of your thigh. He hikes your dress up with the kind of expertise that says he fucks just as good as he looks. That alone makes you moan into him.

Fingers skim your core over your underwear and you suck in a breath. Seungmin breaks the kiss, nose brushing yours. “Tell me how you like to be fucked.”

You swallow. “With your fingers first. Then your mouth. Then—”

He presses two fingers between your legs and your head falls back with a moan. Every thought is gone, every nerve sparks with the press of his fingers, long and precise. 

“Keep talk’n to me” he hums against your throat, slowing his ministrations just enough for you to think. You clear your throat, blink your eyes open and part your lips just enough to make the smallest sound. 

“Then—then fuck me. Let me ride. Use me after. I don’t care. Just make me come until I can’t see straight.” his finger hooks into the gusset of your panties, pulling them aside just enough for his thumb to find your clit.

“Good girl.” The way he says it wrecks you. Your hips jerk, chasing more, but Seungmin doesn’t give you a second to think. His fingers move with effortless precision, tracing the heat between your thighs like he’s memorizing every inch.

Slow. Measured. Cruel.

You’re already panting. “Let’s try for three, yeah?” he murmurs, dragging his mouth along your jaw as one finger dips in and curls.

Your hips kick up again, uneven like the moan breaking from your chest. “Ya know, thought you’d be more of a fight.” he kisses the shell of your ear, teeth grazing the lobe. “But you’re melting for me like you’ve been counting down the seconds.”

You grab his tie. “You’re on the clock.”

“Mm.” he slips in another finger, making you shudder. “Then you’d better come fast.”

You choke on a gasp, legs spreading wider as his fingers work you open. You watch him—eyes half-lidded, lips parted, the most infuriating look of casual confidence on his face. It’s unfair. He’s not even breaking a sweat. You’re soaked, whining under your breath, trying not to collapse in the backseat of your own damn car. He pulls his fingers out and sucks them into his mouth then moans—just a little, just enough to ruin you.

Then he shifts, your back to the passenger door and one leg over his shoulder. His hands knock your thighs apart with ease, dress bunched around your waist, and—

Holy. Shit.

He eats like he’s starving. Moaning as soon as his tongue flattens against your cunt and grunting when you make the prettiest little keen he’s heard in a while. Your back arches off the seat, hands buried in his hair. His tongue is relentless—circling, flicking, dipping down just to drag another broken whimper out of your throat before focusing back on your clit. He spits onto you clit just as his fingers rejoin the mix, fucking you open while his tongue follows.

“Oh—fuck—Seungmin—”

He hums. You cry out. He doesn’t stop until your thighs are trembling and your vision is white-hot at the edges. Until you’re coming into his mouth, hips grinding helplessly, and moaning too loudly for a backseat fuck.

He pulls back, chin glistening, smug as hell. “One.”

“One?”

“We agreed on three, remember?” he’s already unbuckling his belt. “Or has that pretty head already gone dumb for me?”

You don’t even have time to blink before he’s pushing his slacks down, cock thick and flushed. He grips your hips, pulling you into his lap like it’s nothing.

“Ride me,” he murmurs. “Like you said you would.” He rips open a condom between his teeth, rolling it on with one hand which would be a red flag for anyone who didn’t do this for a living.

You straddle him, breath catching as he lines himself up, rubbing the tip through your folds and letting you control how much you take. His weeping cock disappears into you slowly. The stretch is perfect, the length is ridiculous. Your moan when he bottoms out is downright obscene.

“Fuck, noona—” he groans, hands digging into your ass. “You’re tighter than expected.”

“So you expected something?” he huffs a laugh, then thrusts up hard.

Your head just barely hits the ceiling. “Jesus—!”

“Not here,” he says, smiling slow. “Just me.”

His hands smooth up your sides, guiding you while you ride him like you’ll never get the chance to again—because you might not. Dress pushed up, one heel digging into the leather seat and one lost on the floor, Seungmin buried deep and panting against your neck as you grind and bounce and take him.

His hands are everywhere—guiding, gripping, spanking once, then twice when you slow down. 

“Second one’s coming,” he warns.

You don’t believe him, until he brings his thumb to your clit and makes you see stars.

Two.

You’re barely coherent, slumped against his chest when he shifts your position just enough to fuck up into you with maddening precision.

“You asked for this, baby.” his voice is wrecked. The squelch of your cunt mixes with his heavy breathing. Your moans are muffled into his shoulder but he can hear you loud and clear over the sound of skin slapping.

“I paid for this.” you rasp, gasping when his lips find the sensitive spot of your neck.

“And I’m giving you your money’s worth.”

You claw at his shoulders, fingers digging in like holding on could steady what’s already spinning. “I’m gonna—”

“Good. Take it.” His pace grows sharper, more frantic. “Cum on my cock. So I can fill you up like a good fucking boyfriend would.”

You fall apart.

Three.

“That’s it—shit, gonna cum. Gonna fucking—fuck, noona” You’re shaking in his lap, panting against his neck, muscles limp and dress falling off one shoulder when he finally kisses you—deep, slow, dirty. 

He fucks you slow through his orgasm, tongue sliding over yours and low, rough groans vibrating through you. His muscles are tight, cock is throbbing. When he pulls back, you’re breathless.

And then he grins.

“Now,” he says, slicking his hair back with one hand, taking a deceivingly calm breath. "Don't forget to leave me a five-star review.”

You stare.

“You absolute menace.”

“Mm. But you’re glowing.”

You slap his chest, still twitching, and sigh. “Fine. But I’m not tipping.”

“You already did,” he says, smirking like he’s won something. “Three times.”

a/n: I was so nervous to post this! I hope you enjoyed the first one shot of my event! Thank you for reading ♡

Event Taglist: @bunnies-only @chrisbangsass @puccaaak @beal-o @jinniesgirl

All Content Taglist: @wealwayskeepfighting @whokno-ows @stay-tiny-things @yaorzu-blog @krayzieestay @nxtt2-u  @armystay89 @kayleefriedchicken @compersian  @kibs-and-bits @whokno-ows @poppet05 @estella-novella @unbel1ve4ble @pixie-felix @catsforlife6864 @lisaskz @chloe-elise-2000 @jaeminie-cricket @gingerrracha @wickedbutlovely @lolareadsimagines @h00d-tr4sh @felixleftchickennugget @jeyelleohe @hanjiyunho @yourfavoriteakutagawakinnie @iminc0gnito - @dreamingaboutjisung @lixiluvs @lghtdarling @teddy-stay , @baconcupcakes123,, @soulsbbg , @stay-bi , @yzsqu , @lghtdarling @joonkki @my_neurodivergent_world @tricky-ritz @linospetsitter @0sunshinecryptid0 @miyaluvvsyou @Chansfavoriterubberducky @Felixleftchickennugget @babygay2005 @stellasays45 @corgilover20 @bx-lov3 @myrkhive @kttb @rockstarkkami @cowboylikemalika @angellcvkes @Caitlyn98s @camryn-haitani @Felixsonlyrealwife @binnie-c @highkeyinlovewithhanjisung @bbokarismeow @hannahlue @nctdreamchaser @tangerineastronaut @lezleeferguson-120 @d4ily-s-nsh1ne @staytinyluva @iyenabi @sammhisphere @hhjlvr @geni-627 @thvsuga @staytinyluva

[weakformingyu]

Was it you that posted this, @baby-yongbok?

bring back mulletseung 😫😫

[weakformingyu]

💞𝖲𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗒 𝖧𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗌: 𝖱𝖾𝗇𝗍-𝖺-𝖡𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 💋

Where questionable choices come with abs, aftercare, and absolutely no refunds.

To whom it absolutely concerns,

In honor of reaching 6k beautiful disasters on this page (that’s you), we’re officially launching a limited-time event:

Stray Hearts: Rent-a-Boyfriend — an elite matchmaking experience where 10 to 15 hopeless romantics will receive a personalized appointment with one of our agency’s most desirable, deranged, and dangerously skilled companions.

Here at Stray Hearts, we don’t do “love.” We do curated chaos with charm, chemistry, and at least one emotionally risky cuddle.

I’m Chili, your personal matchmaker — your hookup hook-up, if you will. My job? To make sure you leave emotionally unstable and thoroughly satisfied. Professionally, of course. Mostly.

Below is our boyfriend catalog.

Slots are limited. Choices are permanent.

Pick your man. Set your scene. And remember:

You asked for this.

💌𝖡𝖮𝖸𝖥𝖱𝖨𝖤𝖭𝖣 𝖢𝖠𝖳𝖠𝖫𝖮𝖦

Bang Chan — “The CEO”

❥ Boyfriend Type: Daddy-coded with a voice kink and a very firm grip

❥ Best For: Impressing your parents, Controlling the situation (and you)

❥ Warning: Knows what you need before you do 

❥ Client Review: “He looked me in the eyes, said ‘relax,’ and I blacked out. Woke up hydrated and ruined.”

Lee Know — “The One Your Ex Should Fear”

❥ Boyfriend Type: Doesn’t do sweet. Does you. Mysteriously good at aftercare

❥ Best For: Jealousy plots, stares when you aren’t looking, slow burn

❥ Warning: Says “good girl” like a threat

❥ Client Review: “He didn’t smile once. I came twice. Ruined me, honestly..”

Changbin — “The Domestic Dreamboat”

❥ Boyfriend Type: Buff, heart of gold, stamina of a god

❥ Best For: Soft hugs, head locks, full-body workouts

❥ Warning: Built to protect, trained to destroy

❥ Client Review: “He picked me up like I weighed nothing and fucked me like I meant everything.”

Hyunjin — “The Hopeless Romantic”

❥ Boyfriend Type: Overthinker. Overlover. Overachiever in bed.

❥ Best For: Love confessions, forehead kisses, (him) crying after sex

❥ Warning: You will think it’s more than pretend. So will he.

❥ Client Review:  “He made me a playlist, held my face while kissing me, and said I was art. I think I love him?”

Han — “The Chaotic Himbo”

❥ Boyfriend Type: Hilarious, unhinged, probably your downfall

❥ Best For: Chaos, Laughing during foreplay, Hyping up bad decisions

❥ Warning: The definition of “you up?” text, with no emoji.

❥ Client Review: “He cracked a joke mid-thrust and I saw god. What the fuck.”

Felix — “The Golden Retriever in Heat”

❥ Boyfriend Type: Sunshine with a praise kink and filthy streak

❥ Best For: Cuddles, comfort, casual destruction

❥ Warning: The deep voice is real.

❥ Client Review: “Called me beautiful, wrecked me, brought cookies. My god.”

Seungmin — “The Smart Mouth”

❥ Boyfriend Type: Mean on purpose. Still shows up with your favorite drink.

❥ Best For: Enemies-to-you’re-on-your-knees

❥ Warning: Roasts you. Then rails you. Repeats.

❥ Client Review: “He insulted me so hard I came. I should be mad.”

Jeongin — “The Brat with a God Complex”

❥ Boyfriend Type: Baby face with demon energy

❥ Best For: First times, power shifts, good girl corruption

❥ Warning: Too cute for what he does to you

❥ Client Review: “He called me ‘noona’ and then made me beg. I’m not okay.”

💌𝖧𝖮𝖶 𝖳𝖮 𝖡𝖮𝖮𝖪 𝖸��𝖴𝖱 𝖡𝖮𝖸𝖥𝖱𝖨𝖤𝖭𝖣 :

Send an ask with:

Your chosen boyfriend

The situation (revenge date, fake wedding date, cuddle therapy, etc.)

Bonus details: vibe, setting, why you’re a little unhinged

♡ Staying in-character makes it fun.

♡ Anonymous welcome. 

♡ Fluff friendly

➱ 𝖲𝖠𝖬𝖯𝖫𝖤 𝖱𝖤𝖰𝖴𝖤𝖲𝖳:

To Chili,

I’d like to rent Seungmin to make a very specific point. My ex said I’d never find someone smarter, hotter, or more “emotionally mature” than him. So I need Seungmin to show up at this party looking expensive, act uninterested in everyone, and glare at my ex like he’s beneath him—which he is.

If he tells me to shut up while making me come in bathroom of the party, I’ll buy a membership

♡ Each Request will include: ✔ A drabble ✔ A follow-up text from your date

Side effects may include: attachment issues, multiple orgasms, and delusion. You’ve been warned...

Yours in spice,

𝑪𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒊

P.S: Thanks for getting us here — here’s to poor decisions and even hotter outcomes. See you in the inbox. ♡

P.S.S: Thank you to @skzophreniic for allowing me to borrow her event set up! My hunny is brilliant ♡ ♡

All Content Taglist: @wealwayskeepfighting @whokno-ows @stay-tiny-things @yaorzu-blog @krayzieestay @nxtt2-u  @armystay89 @kayleefriedchicken @compersian  @kibs-and-bits @whokno-ows @poppet05 @estella-novella @unbel1ve4ble @pixie-felix @catsforlife6864 @lisaskz @chloe-elise-2000 @jaeminie-cricket @gingerrracha @wickedbutlovely @lolareadsimagines @h00d-tr4sh @felixleftchickennugget @jeyelleohe @hanjiyunho @yourfavoriteakutagawakinnie @iminc0gnito - @dreamingaboutjisung @lixiluvs @lghtdarling @teddy-stay , @baconcupcakes123,, @soulsbbg , @stay-bi , @yzsqu , @lghtdarling @joonkki @my_neurodivergent_world @tricky-ritz @linospetsitter @0sunshinecryptid0 @miyaluvvsyou @Chansfavoriterubberducky @Felixleftchickennugget @babygay2005 @stellasays45 @corgilover20 @bx-lov3 @myrkhive @kttb @rockstarkkami @cowboylikemalika @angellcvkes @Caitlyn98s @camryn-haitani @Felixsonlyrealwife @binnie-c @highkeyinlovewithhanjisung @bbokarismeow @hannahlue @nctdreamchaser @tangerineastronaut @lezleeferguson-120 @d4ily-s-nsh1ne @staytinyluva @iyenabi @sammhisphere @hhjlvr @geni-627 @thvsuga

[weakformingyu]

You’re not depressed. You just need $250,000 in your bank account.

[weakformingyu]

hello fellow lovers of theft here is the link to dl the audio files from the new svt album <3

[weakformingyu]

Steam I

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x f!reader

Genre: ATLA au, enemies(?) to lovers, forbidden romance, royalty au

General Warnings: violence (bending fights), injuries (mentions of broken bones, burns, blood, bruises), alcohol consumption, mentions of prostitution Smut Warnings: multiple smut scenes, fingering, dry humping, slight exhibitionism, oral sex (f & m receiving), unprotected sex, handjob, hair pulling, marking, virgin!reader, wonwoo has a tiny bit of a corruption kink

Length: ~14k | Fic Length: ~64k

Credits: banner: @caelesjjk and @shadowkoo | betas: @tomodachiii @miniseokminnies @gyuswhore @haologram and @wqnwoos

Note: insane insane insane. i started this from a tiny little head cannon forever ago and when i started writing i anticipated maybe 20k max. but im a liar because this quickly excelled that by a landslide. i hope yall enjoy this monster of a fic as much as i did writing it. i'll be uploading each part with one day in between. p.s i used the ATLA wiki to build a believable setting for this but it really diverges from cannon and doesn't mention any of the original characters from the cartoon.

summary: Wonwoo is the best fire bender in Capitol City. Or he is. But a water bender he's never seen before changes everything.

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

Ranchous voices filled the warehouse, deafening as the hoard of bodies looking for a night of gruesome entertainment flooded the stands. Steam and smoke and dust clogged the air, only cleared by the occasional rush of wind the massive hole in the ceiling that showed the clear night sky above, the moon barely half full and the stars dusted across the sky.

Wonwoo watched from the catwalk criss-crossing high above the ring like always. He won’t fight until later, not until someone was dumb enough to challenge him once the adrenaline of the smaller spars bubbles to their head and they decide they would be the one to end his winning streak proudly tallied on the leaderboard. 

But for now he stood on the metal platform. Below, Jihoon launched a clay disk at his opponent with terrifying speed. With a wide swing of his arm, Chan knocked it aside before it could land, spinning off balance from the recoil.

Too easy. But no matter how many times the two fight, Chan never catches on to Jihoon’s tricks until it's too late. Jihoon hurled a second disc – cracking it into pieces with a squeeze of his fist – at Chan’s head. The airbender managed to dodge the first piece but the other two landed true, crumbling him to his knees. The crowd fell into a frenzy of starved animals, foaming at the mouth as a tally mark appeared next to Jihoon’s name on the victory board.

Wonwoo’s name sat on the next line above, so many tallies they nearly ran off the side of the sheet of repurposed metal. 

He rarely lost. Dokyeom might force a draw for fear the building would burn down if a fight dragged on; but the last time that happened was nearly two years ago when Seungcheol demanded one final fight before retiring. They both walked away with matching black eyes and limps, his friend with singed uneven hair, and Wonwoo with a concussion and a dislocated shoulder.

It was one of the few fights Wonwoo didn’t mind losing. Defeat was much sweeter when he got paid half the betting pool for it.

The next fight geared up to start; another air bender and a fire bender racing into the ring. Wonwoo rarely cared to watch their fights. Hoshi lacked finesse, relying on overwhelming his opponents, while Seungkwan’s temper historically ended the match before it could really begin. But it never stopped the audience from rushing to place their bets with Jeonghan like always.

Deciding he needed a drink for the chaos about to unfold, Wonwoo descended the stairs towards the crude bar in the corner of the upper tier of the stands. It’s nothing more than a shabby counter top, covered with colorful bottles and cracked cups.

The sting of fire whisky going down didn’t shock his system nearly as much as the woman leaning against the wall; watching him, gaze heavy on his skin even in the dim light. 

Rounding the bartop, Wonwoo didn’t look away as he approached. If you balked under his gaze, he can’t decipher a tell; only a satisfied smile pulling the corner of your lips high and your eyelids lowering until his chest brushes yours.

His arm rests above your shoulder, pinning you beneath his gaze. “You’re staring at me.”

It isn’t a question, it's an accusation. And you’re more than guilty.

“And what are you going to do about it?” You asked, chin tilting back defiantly, eyes narrowed. Wonwoo makes the mistake of looking at your mouth, hypnotized by the tantalizing pout of flesh as it slips into a smirk. He walked right into your trap before he even knew what was happening.

He dipped closer, eyes still on your lips. “What's your name?”

Just as your nose brushed his own, you melted off the wall and under his arm. Wonwoo cut a glance over his shoulder to find you stalking backwards into the crowd, eyes never leaving his until you're swallowed into the fold without a trace.

The dare was so obvious in your gaze. Paired with the teasing words, Wonwoo felt something surge inside him. That hot need to chase, to tease you back. To find out if your boldness evaporated with enough attention or if you’d use the same haughty tone to chaste him in private.

Wonwoo moved to do just that but he’s called to the ring for the next fight.

“Our reigning champion, the man of fire,” Dokyeom preened dramatically into the mic. The crowd roared in enthusiastic response. “The longest running victor in bending battle history!”

People parted as Wonwoo approached the walkway leading to the isolated platform surrounded by a steep drop off into a pool of water. Maybe he reveled in the applause and anticipatory cheers longer than necessary but if anyone’s earned it, he has.

“And our newest challenger!”

The poor idiot who signed up to fight shouldn’t last too long, Wonwoo isn’t interested in dragged out humiliation. Especially not now. Hopefully, he can end this quickly and find you again, bargain his victory for your name and maybe some time alone.

But, as swiftly as his hopes ignited, they crumbled to ash. Dokyeom continued his rambling as you flashed a smug smile across the ring.

He faltered for only a moment before continuing towards the center of the ring. Out of the dark, he failed to decipher anything that might give him advantage. You lacked the breezeness of an airbender, posture too rigid, the cocky defiance from earlier still present. Maybe an earthbender. Or better yet, a firebender.

Your eyes trickle down his form. Only one of you is at a disadvantage so far but it won’t remain that way for long. Wonwoo thrives on a challenge, and after so long without one his heart squeezed in excitement.

“Good luck.”

You remained silent, eying Wonwoo’s outstretched hand before ignoring it, turning towards your side of the platform with your nose in the air.

Gasps of shock erupted around the warehouse. The stands circling the platform were fuller than before, even the people who only came to socialize found a sudden interest in the stranger bold enough to snub the best. Wonwoo paid them no mind. You’re the most interesting opponent he’s had in a long time.

Words from earlier echoed in his ears.

What are you going to do about it?

Wonwoo followed suit and retreated to his post with a few grounding breaths. The flame inside him grew in preparation. Hungry. Vicious. It raged until there's nowhere for the fire to go but out.

The starting bell cut the air; immediately he's on the offensive, dropping into a low stance, arms drawn into his side before the shrill sound stopped. A swift punch launched a huge fireball from his fist, a swell of heat surging through his veins as it sails over the ring with terrifying speed. Then another and another, fast enough that just as one dissipates, it’s already replaced with a new explosion of flames.

Barely any smoke filled the air when they dissolved. They were nothing more than a cheap scare tactic; completely hollow shells aimed to intimidate rather than maim. The fight is just starting and there's no reason to throw his best moves just yet.

You sidestepped each blow, dipping close to the floor before rising again and twirling out of the way with catlike grace. Wonwoo lobbed the next one right in your path but you adapt without pause. Like you’re dancing around the fire. With the fire. 

Wonwoo rushed forward, taking the advantage to drive you towards the edge of the platform, refusing to grant an ounce of reprieve. Not that you needed it. Every blow is avoided even as he adds more punch to the moves, each burning hotter and brighter than the one previous.

He maintained a healthy distance, plenty of room to keep the heat away from himself as his arms sweep and a ring of fire slices at your feet, close enough to singe the edge of your boots before you can avoid it completely. But you dove through the opening and rolled back to your feet, as if you expected the blow.

Wonwoo sliced his hand through the air, a razor thin whip of flame bursting forth to lick against your chin, close enough to feel the heat but Wonwoo maintains control. You could’ve blocked the move but you retreat again, eyes furious at the smoke of burnt hair jagged from contact dangling next to your jaw.

Wonwoo can’t detect any attempt at bending. The clay disks stacked at the edge of the ring remained unmoved, the air undisturbed. There’s no pull at the flames he’s conjuring, no hint that you're manipulating his own fire against him.

After another one sided volley of hits, your refusal to fight began to wear on his nerves. He harnessed more flame with a sweep of his leg, a swift stomp sending it over your head before it exploded and knocked you to your knees. You controlled the impact and roll to a crouch, eyes blazing,

“Is that really all you’ve got?” you said, shoulders squared but lax. 

There’s no teasing in your voice, if anything it’s cold disappointment. To Wonwoo’s shame, a hot bolt of want ran through him. Images of you whispering the same words, with the same haughty tone, flashed in his mind; back in the dark corner near the bar where you started this entire game; back in one of the many unused rooms of the warehouse with just you and him and no one else to watch him earn your approval.

Your leg circled around and Wonwoo prepared himself for something of interest to finally happen but you used the momentum to raise back on your feet and brace for the next round.

Wonwoo realized you must be a waterbender. The way you moved, melting around every attack, shifting with impressive flexibility, was a dead giveaway. That or just plain stupid. If you walked into this fight with no bending then it was only a matter of time before you cut your losses and yielded. 

Only one way to find out.

A towering wall of pure flame, large enough it’d scare even him to be on the receiving end, swelled in front of Wonwoo. The crowd roared in excitement, feral for the inevitable end to the match. There was nowhere for you to evade this time. It was either into the flame or off the backend of the platform. 

A flat footed kick sent the wave barreling directly at you, consuming more oxygen and growing wider with rapid speed.

The flood of fire forced your hand. A tsunami of water rose from the grates criss-crossing the ring, geysers gushing with enough pressure to shake the floor. A sharp hiss echoes as opposing elements collided in an explosion of steam thick enough to clog the entire warehouse. So dense Wonwoo can’t see in front of his own nose.

Wonwoo stood unfazed, even as the crowd distantly murmured in confusion. Now, the game truly began.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he called, listening. Waiting.

A splash behind him is the only warning of your presence. Wonwoo slashed his leg through the air, an arch of flame slicing through the fog providing a brief glimpse of visibility before it sealed back up. However, it did nothing more, you weren’t there.

“Longest running victor in battle history, and he can’t even land a hit,” you tsked.

Wonwoo jerked at the sound of your voice, so close he expected to find you right behind him but he’s only met with a faceful of powder.

A fucking snowball?

You must have been close enough to see the scowl twisting his face because you giggled before launching another.

“Can’t handle a little water?” you snorted.

Under different circumstances, ones not involving you pelting him like a child, Wonwoo might have enjoyed the sound. He might have even wanted to find out what the sound tastes like on his tongue. 

Another snowball, this one more ice than anything, collided with his chin and that desire turned into cinders. He whipped fire towards the noise but missed.

Arms raised, he feigned as if to launch another and instead harnessed his breath and forced a wider arch of flame to evaporate the fog you’ve hidden in. Wonwoo found you evading from the corner of his eye and used the moment of weakness to spring into action.

Except you crumbled with a choked scream and the sudden rush of victory tastes like ash.

Three wide strides and Wonwoo was there, hunched and ready for the next blow; ready for another one of your tricks. But your choppy breathing extinguished his competitiveness. The air reeked of burnt. The entire ring smoldered with heat.

He should’ve known better; especially with you. So clearly unprepared for the intensity of a fight like this. Dokyeom should never have let you put your name down to fight, let alone against Wonwoo.

Acrid smoke rose from the discolored collar of your tunic; too close to hope he hasn’t burnt your face but he does anyway. Wonwoo prepared for the worst as he rolled you over, already yelling for a healer.

He isn’t prepared for an icy fist straight to his nose with enough force to send him onto his back. “What the fuck?”

Another blow landed on the back of his head. Hot blood rushed forward as the next punch lands with a grotesque crunch against his nose. His skin stung with cold, eyes burning from the sudden influx of pain.

Long channels of water with blunt frozen ends sprouted from the grates like a watery forest. You stood unscathed amongst the pulsing curtains, smiling like a lunatic.

Wonwoo covered his head from the brunt of attacks. His nose was broken and one of his eyes was already swelling shut. A torrent of water collapsed over him, bearing down with the power of a waterfall. His knees buckled. The air in his lungs abandoned him.

In a last ditch attempt to save his pride, he thrusted his hand forward. The reek of ozone clouded the warehouse as electricity splintered towards you.

And as if it’s nothing, you redirected the bolt of lightning through the opening in the warehouse roof as Wonwoo watches in shock.

The warehouse went silent. Seconds grew into minutes but no one moved as you rose into a lazy stance. 

Wonwoo watched through sweat and blood, dark spots floating in his vision as the sound of your boots grew closer.

“How disappointing,” you sighed just loud enough for him to hear before striding towards the platform and out of view.

When the echo of your footsteps faded, Wonwoo sank into darkness.

In the late hour, the Middle District streets buzzed with life. Vendors shouted, hawking their wares, boasting exotic produce and clothing with incatract embroidery from the farthest reaches of the world. Taverns packed with patrons singing and hollering in drunken glee. The smell of fried dough and roasted meat wafted through the air.

Mingyu was easily distracted with every stall he passed. Why, you had no idea. Even as a guard he could get the

best quality of anything he wanted at the palace; food, clothing, drink. But he stuck his nose in the air as the scraggly old man refuses to barter over the bruised moon peaches and wanders down the aisle to another stand with the exact same selection and even more wrinkled merchant.

In the midst of his discussion on cherry nuts, you slipped away, down one of the cramped alleys choked with smoke and shouts of people enjoying the balmy night. 

No one looked in your direction twice as you meandered through crowded walkways, children squealing as they chased each other and adults shouting in annoyance when one bounces off their knees. In all the chaos, it was easier to disappear and actually explore without Mingyu hovering like an anxious mother hen. If anyone would get you two caught for sneaking out of the palace, it was him. Even in servant’s clothes, you couldn’t help but feel woefully out of place and he wasn’t helping.

The side streets were calmer; veins flowing slowly into the heart of main street. People moved in lazy sways, some appearing to only remain vertical from leaning against door frames into dark hallways. The lanterns strung above cast an oily sheen on the cobblestone. If you remembered the archive maps correctly, the Gaiety should be close.

Even through the thick clouds above, you felt the moon swelling. Only a few more days until she’d be full and with it came the unbearable restlessness. Mingyu only agreed to sneak you out of the palace after the fight weeks ago because you’d nearly taken his head off while sparring. 

A night away, somewhere new. Somewhere to take out the energy without nearly killing him. The warehouse out in the harbor was out of question after the fight weeks ago. Not with the way you made a spectacle of the cocky firebender you’d studied for weeks. Mingyu threatened to rat you out if you thought for a second to step back in there. At least it’d been worth the loss; Wonwoo’s face as you redirected his lightning like it was nothing was worth every second of Mingyu's anger.

No longer feeling like one of your grandmother’s koi, swimming in endless circles of the garden pond, you forced your shoulders to slouch, chin tipping down to obscure your face beneath the wide brim of your hat.

Most of the buildings lining the street are shabby; peeling paint, splintered windows, wooden steps on the brink of collapsing from years of rot. Most are alive with noise, men and women crowded around low tables just beyond the door, wine flowing like a river and laughter spilling from open windows.

Further down, where the lanterns are more sparse with red shades casting everything in an eerie glow, the air grows thick with smoke. The street twisted like a grotesque snake, turning at harsh angles to hide whatever waited beyond, tangled in indecipherable turns. Buildings were little more than shacks, each leaning on the one next to it for support; stacked like a house of precariously stacked cards one gust of wind away from crashing down. Plenty of alleys jutted off into darkness, shadows shifting with scantily clad women and what looked like couples making no attempt to obscure what was clearly taking place. A small crowd still mills about, some ogling but most too absorbed in their own merriment. 

Just like when that firebender hit you with lightning, hairs all over your body stood on end. This place is wrong. You need to leave. Now.

Turning to do so, you found yourself nose to nose with a man completely blocking your vision.

“What is a pretty girl like you doing all alone?” he said, clearly drunk from his haphazard slant. That, or incredibly stupid. His breath stung your nose, bile rising at the scent of liquor.

Water, or something resembling it enough to heed your command, rocketed from a nearby drain pipe. The thick haze over the area dissipated in an instant, all eyes on the man frozen to the rickety wall of a nearby building, face turning purple as he shouted indignantly. 

You stared for a moment, stunned by your own hand. And then, you ran.

People shouted as you crashed through them, feet pounding on the uneven stone road. Several sets of footsteps chase, gaining by the sound of it, all calling for you to stop. You pushed yourself to run faster, so hard your muscles burned but you pressed forward.

Lungs screaming for breath, you rounded the entrance to the main street in time for someone to snag your arm in a vice grip.

“Let me g—” Your scream is muffled by your captor forcing your face into his chest, arm slipping around your shoulders to keep you from breaking free. You fought but couldn’t break free.

“Walk, don’t look back” a deep voice rumbled. 

The hands were too warm to belong to your guard – not that you’d be lucky enough to run into Mingyu and make it back to the palace so easily – completely unfamiliar and unnecessarily rough. Between the guards still in pursuit not far behind and the man already dragging you through the crowd, you preferred the odds of whatever this new stranger had planned.

Out of the side street, your new captor maneuvered hastily. People parted on either side of your path, allowing more distance to grow between you and the mob, but their yells licked at your heels. You chanced a glance up and found the very firebender you’d humiliated weeks ago. Features schooled in a neutral expression, Wonwoo kept moving further down the street, steps so wide it was difficult to keep up. 

“Next intersection go right.” 

Your heels dug into the ground, refusing to move another step with this man. No way he took that beating weeks ago and wasn’t holding a grudge. You humiliated him in public, in front of his friends and probably a few enemies; few men would take that without protest and pass up an opportunity for revenge.

“Trust me, princess.”

The word striked frigid fear through your veins like ice. But he kept his eyes forward, constantly scanning the crowd and using the momentary pause to push you forward. You bounced off another couple as you stumbled to do as he says, face still hidden in the collar of his shirt. The street is still wet from last night’s rain and the water calls in reassurance. 

Wonwoo underestimated you, like so many others. Even though he didn’t look smug about knowing your identity he was still a threat. Perhaps he thought your victory was a fluke but you were prepared to remind him what defeat tasted like.

But first, you needed to lose your pursuers. And for now, Wonwoo served that purpose.

The street he turned you down was far calmer, but no less packed. The bodies moved in a gentle pulse unlike the crush of the central avenue. Wonwoo pressed forward but not as urgently, flowing with the ebb of foot traffic.

Your muscles tensed as distance from the main street grew, prepared for Wonwoo to strike. To pull you into one of the shadowed alleyways and challenge you to another brawl. But there were too many witnesses here for him to do much, not to mention all the buildings made of wood. Unless he was a unique type of stupid. 

But, surely this was far enough to shed him. Another busy street was not far ahead, one you recognized; farther south from the palace than you’d like but you’d make do. You just needed to find Mingyu and get back to the tunnels before Wonwoo caught back up.

Preparing yourself to run, you chanced another look to see if guards from earlier were well and truly gone. The chaos of before hadn’t followed, no shouts or discontent from the people left in your wake. But you couldn’t be sure until you—

“Don’t look.”

You huffed but faced forward once more. “I wasn’t going to!”

“Yes, you were,” Wonwoo swallowed something like a laugh. 

How dare he! If he thought he could take you captive and chastise you like a rebellious child then he had another thing coming. 

You jumped to your toes, twisting against his tight grip at your waist to peer back. Only to find one of the men from earlier already staring straight at you.

“Hey! Stop right there!”

“You looked,” Wonwoo groaned. “Run!”

Turning again, you froze the lanky man’s feet to the ground. He stumbled at the unexpected set back, crashing into passersby who seemed none too pleased but you could only assume from indigent yelling as Wonwoo dragged you away.

“In here,” Wonwoo whispered, shoving you into a dark alley, barely more than a divot between buildings before he followed suit.

His body pressed tight against yours from knee to shoulder. Like back in the warehouse. When he nearly pinned you against the wall and almost made you forget the entire reason you went at all that night. When he tempted you with a different challenge than what you planned to offer. You might have considered the proposition if Wonwoo hadn’t failed so spectacularly; let him prove his worth beyond bending. 

In the dark, you tripped over the slick paced ground and fell straight into Wonwoo’s chest. With your hands planted on his shoulders, you felt his lungs stretch around gulps of air. Under more pleasant circumstances you’d remember the impropriety of it all. Alone with a man, in a dark corner of the city; breath mingled in choppy pants, the heat of him sinking straight into your bones with his thigh between your knees. And his hands. Such rough, warm hands pinned against your sides. If anyone saw then they’d see a couple unable to wait for a more private location.

But you didn’t find yourself caring in the slightest. Not about propriety or even the fact that Wonwoo all but admitted he knowingly fought a member of the royal family and was now doing something even more scandalous. You couldn’t think when you were wedged so tightly between a wall and a man, intimate proximity you’ve never experienced before. The miraculous way his palms fit perfectly against your hips, how his breath ghosted against your forehead and the deep rumble of his voice—

“What were you doing?” he said. “Are you trying to get yourself arrested?”

If only he’d shut his mouth long enough for you to enjoy the fantasy of being like any other woman in the kingdom, free to touch and be touched. But the reprimand shattered the short lived dream.

“They wouldn’t have arrested me,” you huff indignitaly. “I had it under control! Or do you need a reminder?”

“By all means, freeze me to a wall! That went so well last time, didn’t it? Maybe this time you can just wait around for them to catch you.”

“Maybe I will!” You jabbed a finger into his chest, momentarily shocked by the firm muscles there, before ducking out of the alcove and back onto the street before doing something stupid with the new information.

But Wonwoo yanked you back into the shadows just in time for one of the men to run past. “Do you even know where you’re going?”

“Of course I do!” you silently scream. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because only an idiot would visit the Red Lanterns alone. Especially a woman. You clearly didn’t belong there.”

He said woman, not princess. Maybe he didn’t know. Maybe it was a stupid nickname you were looking far too much into. There was no reason he should have recognized you. Your grandmother was so fiercely protective of her sole heir apparent that she hardly let you explore even the farthest corners of the palace grounds, let alone appear somewhere subjects got close enough to make out a single feature beyond your silhouette next to her. Only nobles, guardsmen, and servants would recognize you and the entire appeal of visiting the Middle District was none of them would be here. No one would know their princess was among them.

“Oh? And how do you know?”

“You’d be a lousy prostitute if you froze all your customers to a wall.”

You watched his face for any hint of dishonesty but he stared right back, eyes blazing with the same contagious annoyance. He didn’t know. His heart raced beneath your palm but didn’t stutter with dishonesty.

“Then what were you doing there?”

“I saw you earlier and thought…it doesn’t matter.” He eyed the disgust on your face before sighing. “Just tell me where you’re going and I’ll help you get there.”

“Thought what?” you gritted.

The air thickened with silence as different emotions flashed across Wonwoo’s face. He was no better than the drunk who tried to proposition you. Your thoughts might have devolved into something less than proper but you’d never act on it. If he thought he could just—

“No!” he shouted, eyes wide and bright red despite the dark. “That’s not…I wanted to challenge you to a rematch and then you went and got yourself into a fight.”

“So you were stalking me?”

“You’re in my neighborhood, waterbender. How do I know you’re not stalking me?”

You snorted at that in an attempt to ignore his muscles flexing between your thighs. He couldn’t have not noticed how compromising the position was. If he dipped his chin you could easily kiss him. Not that you would. Ladies did not kiss strange men in alleys; especially not princesses. Even if the strange man was incredibly handsome. And muscular. 

“Why would I need to stalk you for a rematch? I know where to find you if I need a confidence boost.”

Whether you liked it or not – and you most certainly didn’t – you were stuck with Wonwoo until you could shake him and the group of Middle District guards after you. Something tells you even if you did tell him you knew exactly where you needed to go, he’d follow just out of sight. That simply wouldn’t do if you wanted to keep your identity a secret; assuming he truly didn’t know.

Which meant he really did want to help; at least for now. As you peered back up, the fading bruises littering his jaw came into focus. Ugly splotches of yellow and green. Gifts you gave him freely and would happily supply more in spades but there is a twinge of guilt souring your stomach

“Did I do this?”

“Yeah,” he released a long breath through his nose, subtly leaning into your finger unconsciously tracing the marks. Someone did a good job healing him. “And you broke my nose.”

“Maybe next time you should learn to block,” you teased.

The same fire from when he approached you in the warehouse burned across his face, hot enough to scorch everywhere his body touched yours. Maybe one kiss, just to see what all the fuss was about, wouldn’t be so bad. The maids seemed to talk of nothing but which stableboys and guards they were kissing; how some were bad and others were good. Whatever that meant. How several were skilled at doing more vulgar activities with their mouths and hands. No matter how many times you asked, none of them ever answered what exactly they were so talented at but you read enough to have an idea.

For the briefest second, you wondered if Wonwoo would demonstrate just what it was that made the maids giggle so incessantly.

But as his head dipped closer to yours, the spell broke by the crush of reality. You needed to get back home. You needed to find Mingyu.

You looked back towards the street before speaking again, “I don’t know what the street is called but my friend was checking out fruit stalls when we got split.”

“Ah, yes,” Wonwoo grumbled, head tilting back against the wall behind him. “The one street with fruit merchants. Remember anything else? Cobblestones and people? Were there buildings?”

Smartass.

“Um… there was a stall with spirit carvings and a tea house.”

He scrubbed his face, or attempted to. There wasn’t enough room between your faces for the action so his hand hovered in the darkness awkwardly before collapsing back against your side. It seemed only then did he register his proximity, and whatever anger he clung to melted into stammering embarrassment. 

“Did you see the sign for the tea house?” he asked, eyes on the street.

“It was silver and had a—”

“The Silver Dragon. I know it. Come on.”

Another check that the coast was clear and Wonwoo pulled you back into the street, arm slung over your shoulders. He navigated easily enough. Each time he spotted something suspicious ahead he pulled you towards a stall, feigning interest in whatever goods were on display while watching from the corner of his eye until he deemed it safe enough to continue towards the Silver Dragon.

Slowly the buildings became more familiar; a merchant with a unique hat, the raven eagle fountain that hosted squealing children splashing in its waters. An old woman dishing out cups of frozen watermelon juice.

A silver flag embroidered with a dragon hung limply overhead. You scanned for Mingyu but to no avail, faces passed and blended the crowd into an amorphous ocean of strangers. Wonwoo kept a firm hold on your shoulders as the crowd swayed. He gripped your bare upper arm beneath the billowing sleeve of your tunic. No one besides your maids had touched you like this; so familiar and foreign at the same time. The heat of his palms like the first lick of a fire after hours in the snow. 

While Mingyu appeared to have moved on, the guards seemed to have doubled back. They wove through the thicket of people aggressively. Wonwoo froze, noticing at the same time that there was no way to turn around without garnering their suspicion. 

The street choked into a tight squeeze, locking you in place as the guards surged forward. Twenty feet, then ten. Then only a single person separated you from them and desperation fanned the flame of stupidity.

Your neck strained upward, and before Wonwoo could jump back, you fisted a hand in his hair and dragged him down to meet your mouth. He hesitated before sinking into the kiss eagerly, commanding your full attention with his teeth and the, with his tongue. With another pull, he guided you into the narrow space between merchant stalls, tripping over his own feet until all you registered was the hot press of him to your front and the chill of brick behind you. 

It’s not like the sweet chaste kisses in the plays you grew up watching. Wonwoo demanded nothing less than your complete attention with a hot suck against your bottom lip. You copied him with clumsy eagerness.

All the thinking, the responsibilities and reminders plaguing your consciousness silenced their screaming; instinct filled its place. Your hips thrashed until his thigh slotted between your legs with dizzying firmness but then there was the want of more that had you rocking against it. In the process you brushed against a lump between his own thighs, and the instinct to rub against it was too strong to ignore.

Wonwoo only groaned before diving to lap against the sensitive skin beneath your ear. He surged forward, meeting every curl of your hips with an enthusiastic arch of his own. A hand at the base of your spine, beneath your tunic, angled you just so – completely at his whim. His other hand heated the side of your throat, tipping your head back to leave you panting with another rough press of his mouth. 

Unconsciously, you traced his side, tugged at his shirt before letting go and only to crush the fabric again. Then your hands fell down his stomach until your palm pressed against that straining hardness and Wonwoo seized, teeth razing against your ear until you did the same. 

“Spirits,” he exhaled through swollen lips, grinding into your hand.

You sucked him back into another kiss, laving at the swell of his bottom lip until he knocked your hand away and spread your legs for a raw drag against your core. His head tucked into the crook of your shoulder, panting breath creeping through the fabric of your top as he did it again. The press of his mouth made your pace sloppy, mindless grinds until you both groaned.

You wanted him without the frustrating barrier of clothing obscuring the warmth of his hands, his chest; to have him do something about the aching emptiness settled in your core. The pang of needing something stoked by the bruising twists of him against you.

There’s no sound over the roaring blood in your ears. Sparks flashed in your vision but your eyes sneak open to watch Wonwoo’s face twisted in agony. You latched on to his neck – biting and licking the same way he did – until he made that noise again.

In the corner of your vision, you registered the pedestrians moving past as if nothing was happening. As if their princess wasn’t concealed only feet away, pressed against a strange man with a hand sneaking beneath the tie of his pants.

But instead of embarrassment, a hot jolt squeezed your chest. No one knew. Much like the nights you snuck from the palace to explore the city, your freedom was innocuous. A way to learn what was hidden behind the false shine councilmen presented in their reports and the poetic ramblings of tutors. 

Wonwoo could teach you about those sneaking passions that drove you mad on long nights. He already proved how much better they were when someone else wanted to resolve them.

Hours or days might have passed as you focused on coaxing out more of those delicious sounds – nail raking through his hair with every rut, rolling against him the same way waves rolled over the shore of the ocean under the full moon's pull.

Your vision blurred, unfocused on the faces walking past as Wonwoo sucked a bruise into your skin. That feeling in the pit of your gut twisted painstakingly tight like an itch you couldn’t scratch. More and more, until a familiar face passed by and reality came like an ice bath. 

Mingyu.

He couldn’t see you in the shadows, and the call of his name morphed into a throaty whine as Wonwoo snaked his hand further down your spine, down the back of your pants to squeeze the curve of your ass painfully. He continued to mouth at your shoulder, unaware. When you pushed him this time he pushed back with a hungered moan until you tugged him out of hiding.

“I have to go,” you panted, melting out of his grip. Your voice was unfamiliarly husky. Everything felt slower, hazier like the smokey streets earlier. 

His body tightened, attempting to pull you closer before letting go. Lips wet with spit, he regarded you with pure confusion. “What?”

But you were already back on the street before you could answer, underwear uncomfortably sticky. A problem for later; in the dark safety of your room. With vivid memories of a handsome firebender and the way his body felt surging against yours.

You chased Mingyu down the street, snatching his hand and taking off before temptation got the better of you and marched you back into the alley for Wonwoo to finish what started. 

“We need to leave,” you said. “Now.”

“Spirits, what did you do?” Mingyu cried.

“Just go!”

Wonwoo didn’t chase, and a part of you curdled with disappointment.

Wonwoo knew he should be in bed. Sleep or not, his body needed rest after the last few nights he spent awake plagued by the nightmare of you. He couldn’t concentrate. Blows he’d block with ease slipped by, bruises littered across his torso as proof. Forms he’d been drilled on for years and years to the point of muscle memory became sloppy enough for his commanders to notice.

And it was all your fault.

You were everywhere; the teasing lit of your voice, the heat of your eyes, the taste of your lips, those soft noises you made when Wonwoo pressed his cock into your core. 

It was bad enough after the first night you challenged him. Dokyeom spent all night healing Wonwoo and it hadn’t soothed the sting of humiliation. Then came the fact that no one knew who you were; Dokyeom hadn’t gotten your name, Jeonghan took bets under ‘death wish’. No one recognized you from anywhere in the city. You were a ghost. 

But then fate granted him a second chance, only for it to slip through his fingers. Again.

He couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat. Couldn’t do the one thing he’s good at without being consumed by thoughts of you.

Moonlight dappled through the trees overhead, casting everything in a hazy filter of silver and shadows. Something scurried across the trail ahead and dipped into the bushes. Wonwoo was only fifteen minutes out from the barracks, too close to people for any of the bigger creatures to venture close. Even if something did come across his path, maybe it's what he needed; a new distraction from the one who's been terrorizing him non-stop.

Besides, Wonwoo was a soldier, body trained to remain vigilant even if his mind wanders. If something decided to attack he could handle it. But only fireflies and cicada crickets disturbed the stillness of the forest late at night.

He isn’t sure how long he walked but the moon remained heavy and full in the sky. The sun lay far way away, deep beneath the horizon. Wonwoo’s thoughts wandered farther than his feet could take him, imagining how you’d be spending a night like tonight, probably somewhere getting into more trouble. Maybe freezing another drunken pervert to a wall.

Wonwoo couldn’t help but laugh at the idea. You with your nose in the air as some man begs for mercy, leaving him to rot just because you could. 

Then, as all his thoughts of you were in the past few days, the images morphed until it was you and him. You beneath him, on top of him; him between your legs, his cock, his mouth, fingers. All of it as he tried to earn your approval. 

There it was. The uncomfortable tightness across the crotch of his pants, the sweat at the edge of his collar. Even the most innocuous thoughts of you sent his body into a helpless frenzy. He hated it all the more because no matter what he did it never stopped. It didn’t matter if he trained until his bones crumbled in on themselves, muscles wilted and spent, there was a part of him immune to exhaustion in light of you. When he took the herbs the medic recommended to help him sleep, his dreams were plagued with the most vivid visions of you; even worse than the waking ones.

It was all your fault for kissing him. 

He could have dealt with the embarrassment of being defeated swiftly in the ring. Things happened, he wasn’t immune to bad luck against a good opponent. But you kissed him, and touched him. You let Wonwoo touch you as if there wasn’t a busy street of witnesses only a few feet away. You wanted him to; purred and whimpered with each drag against his thigh. If he had slipped his hand beneath your underbindings like he wanted to there would be evidence of your arousal. He wanted to do that too – where anyone could have seen him. On his knees, with his mouth between your legs as you writhed and pulled his hair until you came.

But he didn’t know your name and was at the mercy of the spirits if he was ever to see you again.

Wonwoo followed the channel, meandering with every bend as his mind worked over and over. He just needed to clear his head enough for tomorrow. After that, he’d figure something out. Find a way to find you or hope you stumbled into his path once more. 

Splashes up stream pricked his ears. The closest waterfall was at least an hour's trek upstream from the barracks, where the mountains dropped off into a steep cliff like a spirit cleaved it in half. Wonwoo didn’t know how far or how long he walked but the trees were too dense to be that far out.

The ground was no longer soft from the rain days ago and allowed Wonwoo to sneak forward without sound. It was a shame the night was so clear, the shadows hugging close to the trees, not nearly enough to conceal himself in. But it was of little consequence. 

He saw you in profile, bathed in moonlight as you stood in the river, water parted into great walls on either side. Even at a distance, Wonwoo traced the silk binding your torso and the dark leggings clinging to your thighs as you danced among the swelling waves eager to follow your whim. If he hadn’t known better, it looked like the moon was focusing her gaze on you, illuminating you from beneath your skin.

The longer he looked the more he was convinced you were a spirit. No matter how close the waves came to your person, they never seemed to make contact; water completely bent to your will, under total control.

Wonwoo shuffled closer like a moth to a flame. Completely enamored with the sight before him, he didn't realize his mistake until a twig snapped beneath his foot. 

In an instant, the sweat and humidity clinging to his clothes froze; icy crystals stinging against bare skin.

Your chuckle was barely audible over Wonwoo’s hiss of discomfort. Heat flushed through his veins, melting your attack but the chill remained.

“You know, it's getting really hard to believe you aren’t stalking me,” you called. The rings of water floated around you even with divided concentration. Something like jealousy and awe rooted in his chest.

“How was I supposed to know you’d be out in the woods tonight?”

“I’m just saying it’s convenient that you always show up when I’m alone,” you smirked. “Don’t worry. I didn’t freeze anyone to a wall this time.”

Cover blown, Wonwoo approached the dry river bank. “Speaking of that, you never said ‘thank you’ for saving your life.”

The whip circling your figure sagged back down into the stream. Wonwoo felt a piece of him warm that he was distracting enough to crack your focus so significantly despite the full moon. As you turned, he became privy to just how much visible through the silk bindings criss crossing your chest. “You didn’t save my life but thank you. Now, do you want to fight or can I get back to my training?”

He couldn’t help but focus on the glittering drops of water cradled in your collarbone. How sweet they’d taste on his tongue if given permission. 

“I think I’ll watch for now.” He took a seat on the river bank, legs sprawled in front of him, a careful bend of his knees so the tent in his pants became less obvious.

“Suit yourself,” you shrug. The tentacles previously encasing you rose once again.

It was entirely inappropriate to ogle a woman in nothing but her underclothes. If Wonwoo was a better man he’d leave, or at least have the decency to pretend he wasn’t staring like a starved wolf. But you were spectacular, flowing through different forms with ease that even the best trained guards in his unit would envy. You bent and stretched and twisted suggestively beneath the moonlight.

If you had a weakness, it didn’t show. You bent the river to your will easily, skill that only came with years of trial and failure. Wonwoo stopped admiring the sight of bare skin and focused on your strength as you flowed into the more advanced forms. Thick branches hanging over the river snapping clean from nimble water whips, tree trunks peppered with ice daggers the size of his forearm.

He couldn’t help sending a disc of flame to cut off your next water whip, collapsing it into the grass as you stared indignantly.

Another stream met a tongue of fire from his fist, a burst of steam left in its place. This time you face him with a huff and Wonwoo simply shrugged.

Wonwoo ignored your next moves. You reached over head in a wide circle, back stretched long, all the muscles and skin obstructed by the frustrating blue fabric. It wasn’t until you froze a wall of water in place that he sent a blast of heat, melting the ice to drench you. 

“Oops,” he shrugged, stifling a laugh at your indignation.

It’s not as funny when you dump half the river on him and Wonwoo was left gasping like a fish.

When he could finally breathe again, you smiled innocently with an ‘oops’ of your own. 

Then the game was on.

Unlike the disappointing night at the warehouse, Wonwoo kept up this time.

You never sparred with someone who didn’t treat you as something fragile. Even Mingyu, try as he might to entertain your wishes, refused to attack with the full force he was capable of. Wonwoo didn’t harbor the same concern.

Neither of you kept advantage for long. Every water whip evaporated before landing, each fireball snuffed by a wave. It was invigorating. You stood shaking and sweaty after hours of trading blow for blow, the moon already dipping low in the sky. Wonwoo didn’t appear to be faring any better. The bruises on his jaw were faded but new ones stained his torso, blood trickling down his elbow from a particularly nasty ice blade. Singed holes scattered your leggings but the grass and trees claimed the brunt of damage.

It would have been so much easier to concentrate if he hadn’t shed his shirt after a whip tore a jagged hole across the front, revealing a muscular torso to the pale moonlight. It was horrible knowing what beneath his clothes looked just as good as it felt the other night. Even worse when his pants ripped just above the knee and you caught a glimpse of his thigh.

The entire reason you even snuck out tonight was because of him. His taste, the feel of him pressed against you so intimately. It haunted you day and night – in sleep, while awake, in meetings, when you were all alone. There was nowhere you could go without the memory of his body against yours; nowhere you hadn’t wondered what could have happened in that alley if Mingyu hadn’t walked by. 

You needed something to banish the feeling of his mouth on yours, to dissipate the restlessness settled deep in your muscles. While wading knee deep in the river wasn’t a smart idea, there was nothing at the palace that could help. No one wanted to spar, not to the level you could during the days leading up to a full moon. It wasn’t fair to give your all while guards curbed their skills in fear of hurting you.

So you bid an early goodnight, feigning some sort of illness and retired to your room before the sun had set. Once the moon started her venture across the sky you dug in the back of your wardrobe for the dark clothes from days prior. They were wrinkled but served their purpose. With Mingyu standing guard at your apartment entrance, you snuck out the tunnels and into the city beyond the palace walls. 

The clearing was exactly what you needed. Plenty of water and space to lose control, trees offering their service as target practice for whatever twisted move your mind conjured. It helped. Your muscles strained with a level of exhaustion unfamiliar to you, enough so that your mind couldn’t roam as easily. But then he plowed through the forest like he owned it. Of course you couldn’t have a moment of peace, the spirits wouldn’t allow you to indulge in serene silence if they could help it. They sent Wonwoo straight to you as an act of retribution for your long list of sins.

But sparring with him burned away some of the tension. If you were fighting with Wonwoo then you couldn’t think about all the other cravings; of finishing what you started against that wall. Sending ice floes at his head kept him far enough away that even if you wanted to pull him against a tree or down to the grass, you couldn’t.

“Is that really all you got?” he taunted. Wonwoo’s pain is clear on his brow, every step closer punctuated by a limp and labored breathing. 

“Oh, please,” you grunted, launching a weak ice disc at his head. The wall of fire lapping at your heels disintegrated as Wonwoo dodged. “As if you could handle more.”

Something feral flashed in his eye at the taunt. “Try me.”

Well at least this time he wasn’t so disappointingly easy to overwhelm.

You skated across the clearing. With the river to your back once again, you pressed the advantage and sent wave after wave. Wonwoo narrowly dodged them with well timed kicks, his fire dispersing them into steam. But each volley soaked clearing until he struggled to remain upright on the muddy ground as he approached the riverbank.

With your next attack, he fell on his back with a hard grunt. For a long second he didn’t move and you worried you’d seriously injured him this time. 

“Wonwoo?”

His chest rattled with each labored breath as you approached. He looked horrible; a mess of sweat and dirt, hair matted to his head. His eyes flickered with pain as he stared up at you, hesitating to take your outstretched hand before accepting.

Back on his feet, Wonwoo wasted no time tackling you into the water.

Breaking the surface, you screeched, “You jerk!”

“Come on! I got that move from you,” he laughed.

Even in the midst of dunking his head under, your blood warmed at the sound. He gripped your body tightly to his own, pinning your wrists together in one hand, effectively cutting off your bending. But you refused to go down without a fight. Fortunately he didn’t think you’d be formidable at hand to hand combat and while it was true, he was stronger, you slammed your foot against his thigh, breaking Wonwoo’s hold long enough to slip away.

He breached and sputtered before following again. “Where did you learn that?” 

You tussled on the shore, shoving handfuls of mud into each other’s hair and skin. Your legs hooked around his waist, rolling until you sat on his stomach.

Bad idea.

You’re close enough to trace the silver scar through Wonwoo’s brow. A fraction lower, his eyes light with the same fire as when you kissed him the other night. Rocks bit through the thin fabric of your pants, jagged against your knees. But Wonwoo was unaware, tilting his chin up to capture your lips. 

You bore down on him, sighing into the seductive heat of his mouth. Wonwoo groaned with a curl of his hips. It took all your focus to snatch his hands from your waist and pin them above his head but he didn’t seem to mind as you rained a series of wet kisses down the column of his neck. 

He made another desperate sound as you tugged at the water just out of reach, freezing thick cuffs from Wonwoo’s elbow up to his fingertips.

“Gotcha,” you whispered against his throat. 

He slumped into the ground, an indignant huff fanning across your forehead. “Very funny.”

“From where I’m sitting, it is.”

You’re smirk dissolved as he rolled his hips once again. The force sending you up his chest, hands bracketing his shoulders in an effort to maintain balance. To your shame, a sharp gasp squeezed from your lungs at the motion.

“What was that?”

His face – barely an inch away – was lax despite his confinement. It’s enticing. The way he’s spread out, chest displayed, muscles stretched; all of him on display, including the stains on his skin tugging at your conscience. Your hand glided down his chest, catching droplets from the stream to heal the fresher injuries. Those muscles flexed under your gentle touch before relaxing. Wonwoo’s eyes closed with a sigh of relief as cuts knitted back together and bruises faded.

“You’re really bad at this,” you said plainly, shifting focus away from the need to rut down. 

Wonwoo’s eyes widened for a moment, ears reddening before he sputtered. The realization dawned on you like the icy waters of the river. Oh. 

“Not that!” you corrected. “Fighting me. I’d thought you’d be better this time.”

“It’s a full moon,” he argued, eyes closing once again as you mended a scratch along his chin. It wasn’t even bleeding, but the compulsion to touch him was too strong to ignore.

“So? I could fight you with my hands behind my back and still win.”

“Wanna test that theory?”

With a dismissive wave the ice trapping Wonwoo melted before you answered, rising to your feet before you did something stupid. He was healed enough. “I think I’ve done enough damage to your ego.”

He barely reared back his fist for an attack when the same water froze him again. Now, with his arms and legs immobilized, he glared up at you. Predictable.

Without thinking, you pinned his chest down with a muddy foot. You couldn’t help it; something so satisfying as having him at your mercy conjured the reckless parts of your brain. “Yield.”

His eyes followed the line of your leg, up your torso, only pausing on your wet breast bindings for a moment, and then finally met your gaze. “If I don’t?”

“I can leave you here,” you shrugged, only to hide a shiver. “I’m sure you’ll thaw out by noon.”

Perhaps it'd be better to leave him shackled to the ground. You could leave him and get back to the palace before doing anything scandalous. He could still firebend as long as his mouth was uncovered, and after all the noise of the battle none of the wild life would come close before he freed himself. But Wonwoo wasn’t fond of the idea of waiting until morning to leave.

“Fine,” Wonwoo huffed. “I yield.”

The ice melted again, soaking his pants. No sooner did you turn around, Wonwoo sent a lick of flame at your ankle and, in your attempt to dodge, you sprawled next to him with a hard thud.

“You yielded,” you groaned in pain.

“I’m a sore loser.” Wonwoo rolled to his side, the weight of his gaze heavy on your face. One of his hands found the strip of skin between your bindings and your legs, tracing it with maddening pressure. How easy would it be for him to slip that same hand beneath your pants and touch you again. “Where’d you learn to fight like that?”

“I practice a lot.”

“With who? Assassins?.”

One of your eyes opened to glare. “I watched a few of your matches. You’re…predictable.”

“I never saw you at the warehouse before.”

“Yeah well, I didn’t want to be seen.” 

Wonwoo took the opportunity to cover your body with his own, a thigh back between your legs and pressed just right against your center. His mouth found the sensitive spot beneath your jaw as he crumbled your defenses. You could afford to indulge a little bit; some kissing, more of that mind numbing friction from the market. Just to set your nerves at ease, untangle that insufferable knot in the pit of your stomach.

“And why is that?”

Before you can answer, Wonwoo kissed you again but this time you were prepared; surging up to meet him like a tidal wave.

Somehow, the weight of his body like that was even better than when he crowded you against the wall; heavy and satisfying for you to grind against, chasing warm friction. This time he touched without restraint, tugging at your bindings until they fell slack, committing the new swaths of bare skin to memory with his mouth and wandering hands. 

His tongue traced the slope of your breast, the chill in the forest pinching your nipples tight for his teeth to take one between. 

“Oh,” you moaned, fingers tangled in his hair, urging him to give more. Wonwoo offered the sting of a bite, sucking harder when you made the same depraved sound. You felt it everywhere, down to your core where he pressed against you with a kick of his hips. Far better than when you tried touching yourself after he had lit a consuming hunger in your veins. As if Wonwoo knew the spots driving you mad better than you ever would.

No one was around to hear the way you gasped his name as his hand snaked between your legs, the heel of it nothing short of mind numbing as it rocked against your clit.

“Still predictable?”

You leveled your gaze with his, furious at the confidence you found. During the spar you met him blow for blow. This would be no different, just a new stage.

“You’re hard and trying to scandalize the wildlife after I kicked your ass,” you stuttered through the last bit because Wonwoo curled his fingers against a spot you didn’t know existed. “You’re incredibly predictable.”

You touched him just as eagerly; dipping beneath the tight cling of his pants and fisting his cock with false bravado.

He stopped when you thumbed the leaking tip, huffing against your chest with a throaty groan of his own before continuing with renewed energy. Wonwoo pressed himself through your loose grip, back and forth and back and forth with that mesmerizing hardness that was soft like velvet and hotter than any fire he’d attacked you with; each cant in time with the way you rocked against him. Until he followed your lead and dipped his hand beneath your leggings, calloused fingertips sliding timidly as you writhed beneath him.

“Wonwoo, please.” You needed something, anything. He kept his teeth at your breast, sucking and licking while a finger shallowly dipped inside you. 

“Tell me what you want,” he gritted, pulling until you sat back in his lap completely bare from the waist up, the silk of your bindings left on the ground.

I don’t know! I don’t know, tell me what I need, you thought; but you'd rather die than admit inexperience. Instead, you acted on instinct. Each rock of your hips proved it was the right path, the tight press of his fingers better with the new angle as you clung to him. You sank further into it, Wonwoo encouraging you to take whatever you wanted.

It was too much and not enough. Your chest thrusted forward with every motion, and the hand cupping you gently turned into rough pinches hard enough to sting; his mouth the same. 

Maybe you could sneak out of the palace every night for this, or sneak Wonwoo in. It wouldn’t be too difficult. He could give this to whenever you needed, no one the wiser as you bared yourself between the sheets for his eyes only. 

“So fucking wet.” He punctuated the observation with another finger, palm rocking into that explosive place again and again. You’re knocked off-balance. Knees spread wide to accommodate and Wonwoo took full advantage to brush your hand away from his cock and pull you further into his lap, both hands beneath your bottoms; perfect to roll against as he leaned back to watch. “Don’t seem disappointed now.”

You swam through the beginning of something, Wonwoo’s voice grounding you back down to reality. The goading you could do without but it’s a small price to pay. As long as he maintained the wet slide of your core, he could say whatever he wanted. Your mouth dropped open, head tilted back as your thighs quaked. 

“I—” you gasped. All at once the world snapped into a million stars.

He kissed you; your chest, your throat, cheeks, lips. Anywhere Wonwoo could reach was stained with the warmth of his mouth as you shuddered with teary eyes, raking pink lines into his chest. He swallowed each wrecked sound until you kissed back with shaky breath.

 “You’re dirty.”

“Excuse me?” you scoffed.

His humor exploded against your cheek, laughter tickling your ears as he dragged a finger across your collarbone. He meant the mud caked to your back, knotted in your hair. But you couldn't focus on the ridiculousness. Wonwoo was still hard, the dewy tip of his cock peeking from the band of his pants. The sight made your chest ache.

The laughter turned to a stunted moan as you gripped him once more. You shifted down his thighs to make more room, but Wonwoo kept you close, nipping at your jaw with each stroke. It’s unlike anything you felt before, the power, the thrill of undoing him, watching as he crumbled into a panting mess beneath your fingers. You pulled his hair and licked behind his teeth.

“O-oh. Fuck,” he groaned. His head fell back, the smooth skin of his throat enticing as he swallowed another sound; the pale glow of early dawn sun providing a startling contrast.

Panic flooded your veins. You looked up and found the moon sunk deeper to make room for the new day.

You were late.

“Shit. Shit. I have to go.” You scrambled away, snagging your bindings. They were disgusting but you had no time to wash them. At least the shirt you snuck out in would hide the wreckage. You tied them tight, whipping around to find the rest of your clothes.

“What?” Wonwoo blinked, as if he was waking from a dream; eyes glazed, cock dewy and pink in his lap as he stared up at you. 

You flushed, tempted to sit back down and pretend it was a mistake. The voice whispering in the back of your head wanted nothing to do with responsibilities and obligations. You wanted this. To be reckless and enjoy what Wonwoo offered, and feel the way he responded when offered the same.

But the pale morning light brought reality with it. 

“I’m sorry. I—” There was nothing else you could say. No explanation that wouldn’t leave you both with heartache. So you kissed him softly, long and slow, until Wonwoo’s fingers tickled back across your hips and you remembered you had to go. Now. “I’m sorry.”

And then you sprinted home without looking back.

After the beating Wonwoo received into the early hours of this morning, perhaps he should feel the same bruise to his ego like the weeks before when his face resembled the wrong end of a moose dragon. Even with the best healing, his body ached for days after. A constant reminder not only had he lost, but done so in front of one of the biggest crowds the warehouse ever had. 

But even though he lost again last night, he’d won enough to walk on clouds like an airbender.

You were distracting while in your element but when you came? He couldn’t look away even if he wanted to. Helpless to the vision of your chin tipped back, spine arched as you moaned his name. Never mind he had to finish himself after you fled, returning to the barracks to hide in the bathroom like a teenager. The memory was enough, it only took a few strokes before he found his own satisfaction; though he preferred to find it with you next time.

Not even the weary day ahead dampened his glow despite the lack of sleep. The Queen rarely visited, and the princess never. But today they planned to, and that meant everything must be in perfect order which included new uniforms starched until Wonwoo could hardly bend.

The courtyard was packed with guards of all levels, cadeats to captains. They spent the morning sparring and working through basic forms under the watchful eye of Commander Aiko, Wonwoo overseeing the training ring. Under the high noon sun, the firebenders maintained a clear advantage over anyone else but Wonwoo conserved his energy for later. Once the Queen arrived, Commander Aiko would no doubt drag him out for a demonstration for the old man to tout as his own accomplishment.

It’d be good to remind the others of his skill, how he earned his rank through nothing but sheer determination. Most of the teasing had faded in the past month but it never hurt to make sure. Just because he lost to you didn’t mean he couldn’t defeat any of them. It wasn’t a fluke, you were just better. Wonwoo admired your skill but next time he’d win.

But he banished those thoughts for now. He’d found you twice – by chance but he still found you – a third time felt inevitable. There was too much unfinished business for him to believe otherwise. When he did have you again, he wouldn’t let you slip away so easily.

It wasn’t until later afternoon that the royal procession arrived, palace guards donned in stark black uniform circling a pair of women like hawk vultures. He couldn’t see the princess’s face from where he stood, only the stretch of silk across her shoulders as Commander Aiko gestured animatedly.

Rumor had it the princess was the most beautiful woman in the kingdom, with soft manners. kind eyes, and a gentle soul. Not that anyone saw her outside the palace. The queen kept her under lock and key, rightfully so as her only heir. But tales of her beauty and warmth flowed freely. She was the kind of princess men went to war for. Sacrificed their lives for. 

And as such, most of the men had put extra time into preparing this morning; shaving and hogging mirrors in the bathroom to fix their hair. As if the princess would look upon one of them and find interest in a man with no title, no money, and no influence. The stuff of legends that Wonwoo had no interest in.

Wonwoo supervised the officers as they attempted to throttle one another. Apparently rumors of the princess’ presence inspired their best; it was almost pathetic if he wasn’t impressed by their creativity. 

Rone yanked the ground from beneath Pono’s feet, rushing the smaller man forward into his fist covered in rock. The force would’ve knocked Pono unconscious if he hadn’t used the momentum to leap over Rone with a gust of air and slam his knee into his chest. Rone doubled over, gasping for breath.

“That’s enough,” Wonwoo called. “Ura. Tou. You’re up. Try not killing each other this time.”

Ura shook her head. “You light a guy on fire once.”

“Six!” Tou screamed. “You’ve lit me on fire SIX TIMES!”

“Make it seven,” someone on the sidelines cheered.

Ura lunged at To with a fire whip but Wonwoo was distracted with a call of his name before he could see Tou redirect it.

“Captain Jeon, I’d like to introduce you to her Royal Majesty and her granddaughter, Princess Y/N”

Wonwoo, remembering his manners to never turn his back to the royal family, whipped around fast enough everything blurred as he rushed to bow. “Your Majesty, Your Highness.”

“Commander Aiko has told me much about you, Captain Jeon,” a voice greeted him, definitely the Queen from the rich timbre. “I hope you’ll honor us with a demonstration of your skills later.”

“Of course, Your Majesty. It’d be an honor.” 

Wonwoo rose and finally got his first glance of the princess. She was even more beautiful than the stories claimed, face glowing in the sun, not a hair out of place. A dress of rich fabric, embroidered with pearls in a wave motif at the collar, hugged her figure but didn’t betray the power beneath.

While he couldn’t vouch for manners, your eyes were anything but kind. If looks could kill, Wonwoo was a dead man walking. His veins froze. Absolutely not. This was not happening. It was a dream, a sick and twisted dream where he made out with royalty in a field without knowing. 

It didn’t make sense. 

You bowed, eyes averted to your shoes with a greeting in return. The wild energy that possessed you in the field was nowhere to be found; extinguished by faux meekness and rigid posture.

“Jeon,” Aiko started, preening like a peacock. “Give Princess Y/N a tour of the grounds. She’s never seen men in action.”

Wonwoo managed to silence his snort of disbelief but couldn’t help the quip dripping from his tongue. “Oh, I doub—”

“A tour would be wonderful, Captain Jeon,” you cut him off. Your teeth gleamed like knives, gaze pointed. The wildness was still there and a bolt of fear flashed through him.

“Of course, Your Highness.”

Wonwoo spun on his heel, leading you to the far side of the training ring while Ura and Tou lulled into a standoff, circling one another warily. He couldn’t help but feel you and him were doing the same.

Embarrassment, betrayal. It’s why you hadn’t told him your name, he realized. Not at the warehouse, not at the market, not even in the field. You played him for a fool again and again. And he let you

Tou knocked Ura’s left leg out from beneath her with a blazing kick. She fell to her knees but Ura rolled just in time to avoid Tou’s fist, dragging an arch of flame up with her heel and forcing Tou back.

You hovered beside Wonwoo, silently watching the fight. He refused to look at you because if he did then no doubt someone would notice his anger. And why would he be angry at the princess? Wonwoo never officially met you, this is technically the first time he’s ever seen you let alone spoken to you. 

From opposite sides of the training ring, Ura and Tou’s both thrust their palms forward to summon fire streams thick enough the air around them shimmers as they collide; blue versus red. The crowd of guards watching stepped back, tugging at their collars. Wonwoo was tempted to step forward and join the fight, work out some of the restless annoyance burning beneath his skin.

“Impressive,” you commented, features tinged golden by the flame. 

Wonwoo would have agreed if Ura’s ankle hadn’t quivered. Tou, forever soft for the willowy firebender, refused to take advantage of her weakness. He’d throw a hundred matches before using Ura’s injury against her. And Ura knew it.

“Is that all you’ve got to say?”

“You don’t exactly seem interested in any sort of conversation,” you shot back.

You were right. Wonwoo didn’t want to talk anymore than he wanted to pull his own teeth out. What he wanted was to wake from this horrible dream, for Hoshi to come out of the woodwork and reveal this was all an elaborate prank. 

Wonwoo winced as Ura grappled Tou down to his knees, slinging her arm around his neck and pulling him into a chokehold. Then he turned to look at you. “Pardon me for coming to terms with the fact I got into a fist fight with royalty. It’s a first for me.”

“Don’t be dramatic.”

“This isn’t funny.”

“I didn’t plan this.” You have the sense to look ashamed, eyes on the ground Tou wiggled out of Ura’s grip and scrambled to his feet.

“Do you know how much trouble I could get in if anyone found out I tried to fight you? I could be executed.”

“That wasn’t—” You stopped abruptly, chest expanding with a deep breath. “You said you were from the Middle District. How was I supposed to know you were a part of the Crown’s Guard?”

“I am from the Middle District.”

Your fingers bunched in the pleats of your robes. “But most of the guards are from the Noble's Quarter.”

“I’m not like most men. But I don’t expect you to understand what it means to earn something.”

“I think I earn my victories quite well,” you spat. “Perhaps you would like another demonstration, Captain Jeon.”

In the ring, Ura and Tou came to a standstill. The inky braid coiled on Ura’s head had long unraveled, tangled and lopsided as it hung down her back. Tou’s new jacket was signed at the collar, cuffs smoldering as well. They looked like they were having the time of their lives.

Wonwoo waited a long moment before speaking again. It would do no good to insult you. Already the darkest corners of his anger were brightening. “That was…unkind of me. I apologize.”

“Your insults are as deficient as your bending,” you smiled and strode away leaving Wonwoo to follow like a scorned puppy.

Ura and Tou waned but continued. 

“Why don’t either of them give up?” you asked. 

“Ura agreed to marry Tou if he could beat her in a fight.”

“I thought relations between guards were forbidden.”

“They are. It’s why Tou refuses to take advantage of her weak ankle.”

“Then why would she…”

“If you’re asking me to explain their relationship then I have no answers,” Wonwoo replied as Tou finally yielded and another pair of troops took their place. “You’re lucky most of the guards don’t go to those matches or we’d both be in serious trouble.”

“If none of the other guards go, why were you there?”

“I’ve been doing it for years. They pay well and I needed money.”

Wonwoo leaves the rest unsaid. What other reason did a Middle District kid have to fight other than money? He took his beatings in the public arena for years because coin was coin. He never planned to become skilled enough to start winning. But when he did, after years of blood, sweat, and tears, he was good enough for the Crown Guard to take notice and Seungcheol to bring him into the fold before retiring. Now, Wonwoo had a free place to sleep, albeit it was barely large enough for him and the four other men he shared it with, all on bunk beds. But it was far better than the fifty man barrack he started in years ago. There were free meals and hot showers and his patrols through the Noble's Quarter rarely were more than counting the number of steps through his route before he ended up back where he started. 

The fighting kept his skills sharp in the way training couldn’t. Commander Aiko didn’t like his cheap shots or the scrappiness Wonwoo learned in the ring. They were ‘undignified’ for one of the Royal Army, especially the Crown’s Guard. But more often than not, they were the edge he had on the other officers.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I never intended to put you in such a difficult position. I just—”

“You just what, Your Highness?”

“Don’t call me that,” you spat before softening. “How am I supposed to be Queen if I’m not allowed to actually see my kingdom?”

Seeing your kingdom felt like an odd way to describe what you and Wonwoo had been doing away from wandering eyes but he didn’t dwell.

“Probably not by lying.”

“Or by freezing men to walls.”

The attempt at humor softened and soured Wonwoo’s mood all at once. Rationally, he knew he should be angry. Furious even. But it was not that simple. If he was in your shoes, what would he have done? Probably far worse than sneaking out for a night on the town. Even too many hours at the barracks had a way of making him crave for the anonymity of the city streets he grew up on. 

Wonwoo was not angry, annoyed maybe. Even as you stood, wrapped in the finest silks he’d ever seen with enough sapphires and pearls pinned in your hair for him to buy a village, it was pity he felt rather than disdain. To be forced to hide the wildness you possessed behind pretense and perform exactly what was expected of you. Could he blame you for wanting a break from it all?

Judging by the hopeful look on your face you wanted to leave the entire ordeal in the past, same as him.

“That might help you on the throne.”

You smiled and looked back at the two men sparring in the ring who were fighting with swords, the smaller one locking their hilts together and twisting until the larger man was forced to release his weapon. 

He’d be infatuated with you but that was all it was; all it could be. A funny story to remember years and years from now, when his children’s children were grown. They’d call him crazy for rambling about how he once knew the princess.

He couldn’t help his next question. “And everything else? Are you sorry for that too?”

A blight of confusion twisted your face before your eyes bulged. Years of etiquette schooled your features swiftly but Wonwoo felt pleased to see you off kilter as he felt, however brief. You should be just as uncomfortable with the looming consequences of what happened in that field as he was.

The satisfaction didn’t last long.

You turned to face him head on, leveling him with a heavy gaze. “Are you?”

Wonwoo choked.

It seems the fire from before was not completely snuffed out under pounds of finery. 

“I think I’ve seen enough of the grounds. It's quite warm and I feel myself growing faint.”

When he finally regained his senses, Wonwoo followed several steps behind, face tinged red. Hopefully everyone mistook it as a result of a day in the sun rather than a battle of wits. 

Commander Aiko and the Queen ceased their conversation as you approached them..

“What do you think of our troops, Your Highness?” Aiko asked.

“They are very impressive, Commander,” you smiled.

By some great miracle, Aiko stood fifteen feet taller with your compliments. It itches at the back of Wonwoo’s brain that a compliment could slip off your tongue so easily towards others but not towards him. 

“I’m pleased my men are up to your standards. Captain Jeon is one of my best, you’ll be completely safe in his care during next month's festivities.”

“Pardon?” you and Wonwoo asked at the same time.

Aiko frowned. “Her Majesty insisted on additional protection due to the increased presence at the palace. Surely, she informed you?”

“She did,” you nodded. “But wouldn’t Captain Jeon’s expertise be more valuable elsewhere? It’d be a shame for his skills to be wasted guarding me when we will be surrounded by allies.”

“In the event something might go wrong, is it not better to have someone as trained as he is to protect you?”

Wonwoo wanted to argue that you were more than capable of protecting yourself. But clearly your bending talents were a secret, at least to Commander Aiko. Perhaps that was for the best; the element of surprise was a powerful tool, one you wielded well. A glance at your blanked expression all but confirmed it.

Aiko continued, “You are next in line, therefore your safety is second only to the Queen herself. Captain Jeon would be honored to serve you.”

The old man leveled Wonwoo with an expectant look, giving him two options: reject the position and directly insult the crown and his commanding officer, inadvertently signing his own death warrant. Or accept, play minder for however long was required. Then he could return to his life and pretend none of this ever happened.

“It would be my honor to serve the royal family and her Highness.”

Wonwoo convinced himself that the disappointment in your eyes was wishful thinking. 

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[weakformingyu]

Glutton (TEASER)

Pairing: demon!Kwon Soonyoung x f! grad student reader

Genre: smut, reincarnation au?, urban fantasy/dark academia

warnings: fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), dry humping, unprotected sex, chan makes an appearance (sorry), more tbd

Teaser Length: ~1.3k | Full Length: TBD

Note: as every fic this started as plotless smut and then turned into whatever the hell it is now. thank u @sailorsoons and @gyuswhore for being my betas, and @100vern for the banner. finally i have written something since my vday fic. i'm hoping to have the full fic posted next week! inspired by ninth house/hell bent by leigh bardugo

summary: You didn't mean to summon him but your demon is dedicated to serving you anyway he can.

m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

You didn’t mean to.

The incantation you studied for nearly six months was perfect. In no way, shape, or form should the ritual have gone awry even if stray magic emerged. At worst, nothing should have happened. You’d should’ve ended up with an empty summoning circle, wasted materials that would need to be vacuumed up. At best, you’d have a servitor ready to assist with the more mundane parts of your thesis research. 

As with every ritual, you drew the proper wards in salt and bone ash, some graveyard dirt on hand just in case. You had the knife, ready to sacrifice a few drops of blood for such a useful creation.

You recited the incantation, pricked your finger and then…

Nothing.

The sulfurous stench occult didn’t flood the room, the wards didn’t even manage a flickering glow. The candle flames didn’t even wince.

Utter failure.

You were too tired to do much more than release a choked scream in frustration before blowing out the candles and running upstairs.

Tomorrow you’d study the ancient manuscript for what you missed and try again. You just needed some sleep first.

You barely manage a few hours when you wake up with the distinct feeling something is wrong. 

Everyone else left for winter break, leaving you alone with a mountain of books and articles to skim for the thesis you’ve been writing for years. It’s why you need a servitor to begin with; there was too much work to be done and simply not enough time. 

No one should be in the house but you got the distinct feeling someone, or something, was.

Only the noise of the house rang through your ears, the creak of the floor boards, the wind battering against the windows. The occasional owl calling from the tree outside the window of the living room on the ground floor. You swiped a knife from the kitchen and one of the spare jars of graveyard dirt before heading downstairs.

What a terrifying image you portrayed: a raggedy university sweater and pajama pants, dark circle bruised beneath your eyes, and a dirty kitchen knife.

None of it mattered.

The sharp scent of magic clouded the air at the bottom of the steps leading to the basement, thick as a curtain. But it wasn’t the rotten scent you were accustomed to. It was heavier with the sickly sweetness of flowers, like a poisonous bloom attempting to lure you in.

And what would want to lure prey into a trap than a predator?

Standing in the circle was a man but he was too perfect to be just a man. Gold flowed through his veins, illuminating him from the inside out. His eyes glowed like honey as he stared at you, watching. Waiting.

You were so distracted by his eyes you barely realized he was naked. He didn’t seem to care either, or register the fact he’s hard and you can see the way his length bobs between his thighs. 

Embarrassment didn’t have a chance to take root because he said your name just as sweet as the flower smelled. 

You launched the jar of dirt at him in shock, the bottle shattering into a thousand pieces at his feet. The man made no move to avoid the explosion, didn’t disappear like the undead usually did when confronted with the reminder that they were no longer of the living. He didn’t even blink. 

“What are you?” you shouted, brandishing the knife as if that could do anything. He was in the circle, that was safe enough for now.

“Yours.”

“That’s not,” you start, breathless. “What are you?”

“I’m…” Soonyoung struggled with the words to explain his purpose. 

You tried to keep your eyes level with his but miles of bare, tan skin, with taunt muscles corded underneath proved too tempting. A few silver scars littered  his body, indecipherable in the light and the passage of time. He was much older than you could even begin to imagine; this form only the briefest glimpse of his actual power.

“I’m a servant.”

“You’re the servitor I summoned?”

The manuscript you studied didn’t specify what a servitor looked like, only that it would serve its summoner with whatever tasks it was assigned. 

He nodded widely. “I’m meant to serve whoever I’m bound to.”

“And now you’re bound to me.”

“Yes,” he swallowed. For the first time, he seems to realize he’s naked but continues to be unbothered by it. His palm shakily grazes over himself before curling around his thighs. 

Other passages from your reading came to mind as you forced your gaze away. 

Bind your servitor to their duties as soon as possible, they don’t do well without direction.

They are eager to please and are capable of any task their summoner presents them with.

“We need…” you swallowed, trying to hide the squeak in your voice. “We need to make a deal.”

He nodded.

“You have to follow all of my commands.”

“Of course.”

“If you don’t, I’ll banish you to a demiplane.”

His head tilted to the side, eyes pouring down your figure. Perhaps the stains of your sweater weren’t intimidating to him but you held the power. He was still stuck in the circle, and you could send him away with a spell. Either he listened or turned back into nothing. Or worse; stuck in a demiplane with no purpose.

“Whatever you tell me to do, I’ll do,” he rasped.

“Give me your name.”

“Hoshi.”

You almost settled for that but something told you that wasn’t right.

“Your true name,” you commanded.

He watched you for a long moment, eyes fading from gold to brown. Human eyes. Something familiar flickered in them until he said, “Soonyoung.”

As you repeat it, he shivers, a strangled inhale to match. You don’t mean to, but a quick glance down shows he’s hard and leaking. Obscenely so. To the point it mixes with the circle drawn on the floor.

“Swear to do everything I say, and to never disobey me.”

“I swear to follow your every command, exactly as you say them.”

“And…”

“And to never disobey you or betray you. I bind myself to you, and anything you wish of me.”

Something wasn’t right. Soonyoung seemed like he wanted to tell you more, but you needed to ask the right questions. You knew what the question was, and that made you dread it all the more.

“You’re not a servitor at all, are you?”

Soonyoung rolled his shoulders, his muscles shifting and flexing with the motion. He seemed to grow taller, take up more space with the action as if only a fraction of his true form existed in front of you and the rest was being hidden out of sight. “No.”

“Then what are you?”

“I think you know what I am.”

A demon.

A demon bound in service. To you.

Horrified, you rushed back up the way you came. If Soonyoung was truly a demon, then the wards would only keep him trapped for so long and the last place you need to be was next to him when he escaped. You felt the weight of his gaze on your back as you raced back up the stairs. Profound relief and disappointment greeted you once you were safely tucked back upstairs knowing that he hadn’t followed.

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[weakformingyu]

Why does it feel so good? | B. C.

Bangchan x fem!reader

Genre: romance, smut, enemies(ish) to lovers

Summary: after that night, you can't stop thinking about Chan. Turns out he can't stop thinking about you either.

Words count: 2895

Warnings: part 2 to this ask, two idiots in love, piv, no protection(this is fiction!!), handjob, fingering, oral, I think that's all(I don't know if that's all, I forgot how to do this after so long without writing 😭)

A/N: here I'm, writing something after a thousand years. I don't know where this came from, I just felt the will to write a part 2 for this old ass ask. Anyways, I'm back in my Bangchan obsessed era. I absolutely did not proofread it, I may or may not proofread it later, bye.

THIS CONTENT IS INTENDED FOR 18+ PEOPLE ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Since that night, Chan has been avoiding you like the plague. That would have been great for you if you could actually stop thinking about him, which you can't. You can't forget how he whimpered and begged, you can't help but want more. You tried a few hookups, going on dates too but none of those felt like it made sense to you. It all felt wrong.

To Chan it was not much different, after that night, he kept bringing people over but it was not the same. It was louder, dirtier, like he wanted to prove something to himself, he wanted to prove that, that night, meant nothing to him. But as the days went by, he started feeling less and less interested in his hookups, thinking about you and how you were the one that started with the whole hatred thing. Now you had started something once more and hadn't ended it, leaving him to try and cope with the mess.

At last you finally got to move to your new apartment. Now, your brother would be able to have more freedom in his own home and you wouldn't have to see or hear Chan.

That would work perfectly, if you haven't been dreaming about him every single night too. These dreams made you feel pathetic, he was rough and sloppy, you felt humiliated every time you woke up wet, having to touch yourself while not being able to think about anything else other than him.

Once more, you open your eyes after one of those dreams. You look at the clock, it's almost time for you to get up anyways, this time you chose to take a cold shower rather than getting off to the thought of that man again.

You get your phone on your nightstand, looking at your messages just to find a text from your brother telling you that you forgot one of your boxes in his apartment. You look at the pile of boxes in the corner of the room, you didn't have the time to organize your things yet, it's not surprising that you didn't notice something was missing. You text him back, telling him you are going to go there after work to get the box.

The day at work is eventless, other than the sky getting darker within the hours, until it starts raining. When you are in the uber, going to your brother's, the rain is so strong it's barely possible to see a foot in front of you.

The distance between the sidewalk to the building’s entrance, is enough to leave you soaking wet. You get on the elevator, dripping all over the place and when you get to the apartment door, you stop yourself before pressing on the passcode. You remind yourself that you don't live there anymore, so you ring the doorbell like a normal person.

You just didn't expect that the person opening the door for you would be the man you were fighting so much to forget, rather than your brother.

“Where's Beom?” You ask after the shock of seeing him washes off.

“His girlfriend is sick, he went there to take care of her”, Chan answers. His eyes fall from your face to look at your body, absolutely drenched. He tries to ignore that you are wearing a dress shirt that is glued to your body, showing every curve, especially your breasts covered by the dark bra.

“I forgot a box here, he said it's in his room”, you feel your cheeks getting hot, burning before his intense stare.

“You should change”, he clears his throat, turning his back on you. “It's not good for you to stay too long in wet clothes. I'll get the box”

“I'm good”, you say. You don't have a spare change of clothes with you and it would absolutely kill you to stay in the same place as Chan for longer than necessary.

He sighs, shrugging and walking to your brother's room. You start calling your uber, but to make things better, no one's accepting. On the TV, the news is talking about the huge traffic and accidents that happened in the short time the storm is going on.

Chan puts the box in front of you, looking at the TV as well. He then walks to the sofa and plops down, changing the channel.

“I don't think I'll get home until the rain stops”, you sigh, “I'm gonna take a shower, I don't want to freeze to death while I wait”

“Suit yourself”, Chan says, without sparing you a glance.

It's weird to be in a situation like this with him, before, it wasn't like this. He'd make you mad or get mad at you, you two would be bickering or full on arguing, now it's awkward. It feels like there's something that needs to be said but no one wants to do it.

You go to your brother's room and go through his wardrobe, selecting a few clothes. Your bath doesn't take long, you feel restless knowing Chan is meters away from you. Rather than fear, you wish he would just open the door and take you.

You feel pathetic once more, thinking about those things. You put on a t-shirt and some shorts that barely keep still on your hips and go back to the living room.

Chan is watching a movie, the storm outside doesn't seem to have calmed down yet. You take a seat on the edge of the sofa, staying as far away as possible from him.

“It's cold, why didn't you get warmer clothes?” Chan asks, tossing the blanket he's using to you.

“I didn't want to make a mess of Beom’s wardrobe”, you shrug, “God knows what I may find there, I don't want to risk it”

Chan chuckles.

“He's not a freak, that I'm sure about”, Chan clarifies.

“Opposite to you, right?” It comes out of your mouth before you can even think about what the fuck you're saying. When Chan’s eyes land on you, you laugh nervously, but there's no sign of humor in his features. He seems mad, yeah, that's understatement.

“I was wondering when you were gonna bring that up”, he says, turning off the TV and turning his body to look at you.

“I don't know what you're talking about”, you say, looking anywhere but his face. Chan smiles, it's just like that time when you would feel so embarrassed to see him after listening to him fucking strangers all night.

“Do you feel embarrassed thinking about that night?” He asks, and you don't notice because you're not looking at him, but the man starts to get closer.

“You said to pretend it never happened”, you answer, clearing your throat.

“Yeah, but did you manage to do that?” He asks, shamelessly. That's when you notice how much closer his voice sounds, you look in his direction to see that he's right by your side.

“I did”

“Then, why are you red?”, he teases, making your face grow even more red.

“Stop that! You were the one that begged for me that night, you're the one that should be embarrassed”, you huff, feeling hot, but it's not with embarrassment.

“I don't have a reason to feel embarrassed, I don't mind begging if it gives me what I want”, he shrugs. Chan's hand comes closer to your face and he brushes your hair out of the way, tucking it behind your ear.

“Chan”, you warn him.

He clicks his tongue, smirking.

“I like it when you say my name”, his voice grows lower with every word, “would like it more if I could hear you moaning it”

Your hands are shaking with anticipation, your breath is hitching in your throat.

“We shouldn't”, it's all you can manage to spit out.

“Tell me to stop and I will”, he says, coming closer and you know he's going to kiss you. But you don't want him to stop and that's the whole problem, since the beginning, since that night, you wanted more of him even though you tried to deny it, you wanted to swallow him whole. You didn't even notice but with every passing day, your hatred for him grew weaker and with each dream you had about that night, the desire you had for him grew stronger.

When his plump lips meet yours, you feel like everything makes sense. Everytime you tried to date, it never worked out. How could it take so long for you to realize that you liked this man? That everytime he bought someone over it ate you inside and you had to build a wall masked as hatred so you wouldn't suffer so much.

Your hands fly to his neck, nails burying in his skin. His hands meet your hips, grabbing the waistband of your shorts to pull you down, hovering over you. He bites your bottom lip, only feeling satisfied when he rips a moan from you.

You're feeling lost, all the pent-up sexual frustration from the last month being released all at once. His cock is hard and he takes the opportunity to drag it over your cunt, making you sigh at the friction. When it's too hard to breathe, he pulls away, going down to your neck. He sucks on the skin, hard enough to leave a mark.

Chan pulls your shirt off, throwing it somewhere in the room, he looks at your breasts, mesmerized.

“Fuck”, he grabs both with his hands, squeezing them and teasing your nipple with his finger. He gets closer, sucking on one of your breasts while he plays with the other. The sounds that come out of your mouth are like music to his ears, he never thought he would feel so turned on by someone moaning like this.

You're desperate, rutting your pussy on his hard dick, looking for the least bit of stimulation. Chan understands it, he keeps going down, landing kisses on your belly, until he reaches your lower half. He takes off your shorts, so close you can feel his breath hitting the skin of your lower stomach.

He puts both of his hands on each side of your hips, stilling you. He gets closer to your pussy, licking a long stripe from between the lips till your clit, making you moan loudly. Chan chuckles, feeling his cock get harder, if that's even possible. He puts just one of his hands over your stomach to keep you still while his other hand goes down to your wet hole.

Chan puts in two fingers, making you moan while he licks and sucks your clit, he gives kisses to your cunt in the middle of it, making you go crazy. His fingers keep working hard inside you, making you squirm in his hands. It makes him extremely proud to see you in that situation, he could stay there forever.

When you least expect it, he puts in another finger, making you whimper and glare at him.

“I know you can take it, baby”, he smirks, “how can you take my cock if you can't take this much?” He pouts, making you groan. The feeling of his cock inside you, just makes you get wetter and he feels that.

Chan works faster with his fingers, he wants to see you coming all over his hand and mouth. He couldn't do this last time and he regretted it, so now he wants to leave you fucked out, with nothing on your mind other than him.

You start feeling the knot in your lower stomach, you can feel your orgasm getting closer and closer, your hands go to his hair, forcing his head against your pussy, you want more, you need more. The movements of his mouth get faster, making you shake while you reach your climax, and you let out a loud moan. Chan doesn't stop, he licks everything that comes out of you, all your juices and his fingers keep you whimpering, until you can't take it anymore. You make him stop, forcing his head away from your pussy. You breathe heavily, watching every movement of his.

Chan looks at you, pulling his fingers out of you and taking them to his mouth, licking them clean.

He moves back on top of you, holding your face and kissing you again, letting you taste yourself on his tongue and that's the hottest thing he could do but you can't let him have all the fun, so you put your hands on his shoulder, pushing him off of you, making him fall back onto the sofa. Before he can say anything you're already straddling him. Your hand slides up to his hair, pulling the strands, making him groan and smile.

“What should I do with you?” You ask, while you grind on him. His hands go to your hips, forcing you down, so he can feel you better.

You're making a mess on his grey sweatpants, they were already wet with his precum but you're soaking him with your pussy. He doesn't wait for you to decide, he takes his shirt off and lets his hands wander until they find your ass, squeezing it. You're so hot, he doesn't get how he managed to not burst while eating you out.

You pull his sweatpants and underwear down and his hard cock slaps back on his stomach. You get on your knees between his legs, spit on his cock and use one of your hands to stroke him. Chan throws his head back, at the same time that he wants to watch you prettily jerking him off, he can't take how good you're making him feel.

A groan comes out when he feels your warm lips around him. Chan looks back at you, seeing your beautiful doe eyes staring at him, like you're not sucking him off like that. You bob your head, barely getting half of his cock in your mouth. You twirl your tongue around the head, making him whimper. Oh, it's so good to hear him like that, you almost forgot about it, how great it was to hear him beg.

You smile, letting go of his cock with a pop of your lips. Chan is scared by your mischievous smile but so turned on, you have no idea what you're doing to him. You go back to straddling him, your warm cunt dragging on his cock, soaking him with your juices.

“Fuck, you're so hot”, he groans, sliding his hand to grab on his cock, but you smile once more, shaking your head slowly.

“You said you don't mind begging, right?” You ask, biting on your bottom lip.

“Y/N”, he warns you, making you giggle.

“Come on, Channie”, you give a peck on his lips, “I know you liked it when I made you ask”

“Please”, he says through gritted teeth.

“You can do better than that”, you pout, grinding on his cock and making him hiss to the feeling. “We already talked about it. Beg.”

Chan looks deep into your eyes and contrary to your expectations, he smiles, biting on his bottom lip.

“Please, baby, let me fuck you”, he starts but you're not done with him. You slip his cock inside you, but keep still.

“Keep going”, you giggle.

“Fuck”, he curses, but it's so good inside you, he don't mind begging. He can't even think straight. “Please, move. Ride me, please. It's so good inside you, I can't take it, please”

You smile, proudly, starting to move. He grabs on your hip with one hand while the other plays with one of your breasts.

“You're such a good boy”, you tease, making his dick twitch inside you and his face grow hot and red. “You like that? Do you like it when I praise you?”

“Shit”, he hisses, groaning and moaning when you feel him filling you up, that also makes you moan, reaching your climax once more.

You're trembling and Chan is not much better, you drop the weight of your body over him, resting your head on his shoulder.

You don't know what to say, you don't know what to do. You're scared to look at him now and go back to being awkward. However, before you freak out completely, Chan clears his throat, making it impossible for you to keep in that position. You look at him and he smiles.

“Can I stop pretending I don't like you, now?” He sighs, seeing your confused face.

“What?” You ask.

“There's no turning back from this, y/n”, he answers. “I never thought I'd actually say this out loud, but I like you”

You feel your breath hitching in your throat, you can't speak.

“You know, I never thought I'd be into all this”, he keeps going, not expecting you to reciprocate his feelings. “I think I like it because it's you”

You feel a strange surge of happiness taking all over you, you can't help but smile.

“You're so lame”, you hide your face on his neck. “I like you too”, you whisper, making him chuckle.

Chan slides one of his arms around your waist and the other holds your ass as he gets up, carrying you.

“Where are you going?” You ask, hugging him so you can secure yourself.

“My room”, he smiles, “it's your time to beg now”

[weakformingyu]

Can you make a one shot smut where like reader and Chan like REALLY hate each other, like CANNOT stand each other but like while reader is out partying she like sees Chan so for shits and giggles she goes up to him and flirts with him which ends up w Chan subbing and begging to cum. I’d like to be 🪼 anon pls :3 and ty if you do this !! 🙏🏼

I love the hate concept (I'm literally obsessed with hate sex), thank you for the ask ❣️ I hope you like it, I'm not really good with smut but I'm trying to get better!!

Something bad

Pairing: Bangchan x reader

Words count: 2,006

THIS CONTENT IS +18 ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Warnings: switch!Chan, switch!reader, hate relationship, handjob

You hate his guts. Bang Chan thinks he's all that, but in your opinion he's actually an asshole. You have known each other for so long you're not sure if you always hated him, but if not, you don't know when it started.

He's your brother's best friend, so he is always around, teasing you, making jokes about your hair in the morning or even bringing his hookups late at night, banging them in his room so loudly as if he wants you to hear how good he's making them feel.

You listen to everything from the guest room you sleep in when visiting and the smug look on his face when he sees your eyebags the next morning make you even more mad.

He's not much different from you, Chan likes to see your reactions, how red you get when you're angry about the simplest things he does to tease you or even how you avoid his eyes when you find him at the front door in the morning, saying goodbye to the people he fucked.

He'll look at you waiting for a complaint about the noise but you just look everywhere but his face. He loves that, love that your feisty attitude dies down after hearing him going on all night long. You're back to your usual self by lunch time, that's why he keeps bringing people every night when you visit, he wants to make you angry.

You're currently looking for an apartment, you just got out of uni and got a nice job, so you're staying with your brother just until you can sign the lease of the apartment you're renting with your two best friends.

They invited you to go out tonight, have some fun, maybe fuck a hot random stranger or just pass out drunk anywhere but your brother's house. Literally anything is a better option than another sleepless night of Chan fucking someone senseless and making you horny.

You would never, ever, admit this out loud, but the way you can hear him groaning sometimes when you get close to his room, just messes with your head. He IS an attractive man, even though you hate him, you cannot deny he is hot. Beautiful dark wavy hair, nice broad shoulders and that physic is just… you just know he could break you in half if he wanted to.

You shake your head, why are you having these strange thoughts again? He's your brother's best friend and the guy that makes your life a living hell every time you're in his house. Is it because he's here? Out of all places, why did he and his friends decide to come to the same party as you and your friends did?

“Should we go home?” You sigh, making your friends glare at you.

“Not even a chance”, Sana says, making you sigh. “Should we play a game? Maybe that will get you to relax”

She exchanges a glance with Yeji, smirking. You're already kinda dizzy from your previous drink, so you're not sure you understand what that look means. But you nod, drinking games are your thing, you love them all.

It was all premeditated, you're sure your friends knew Chan would be there with his crew, they are acquainted, after all. You know it was all planned when Yeji giggled, saying “I dare you to flirt with Chan”. Sana laughed so hard at your face after hearing that, saying “we are talking about a hard flirting, literally get a hard on out of him”

That's how you ended up walking in his direction now, feeling your face warm, at least the alcohol makes you feel more secure about yourself. You're looking hot today, wearing a tight short black dress with a neckline lower than how you usually wear, exposing a good piece of your skin and breast. You're sure you can pull Chan.

He stares at you up and down when you show up in front of him, you look smoking hot. He knows you're attractive, it's such a shame you're so annoying.

You greet his friends, you know all of them since they come buy a lot to your brother's and Chan apartment.

“Can I have a sip?” You ask Chan, sitting by his side at the booth. His friends look at each other, saying something you can't hear because of the loud music and then going to the dance floor.

“What do you want?” He ignores your question, scowling when you do the same to him, grabbing his drink and tasting it.

“Woah, this is bitter just like you”, you smile seeing him rolling his eyes.

“Are you drunk? Should I call your brother?” He asks, sighing.

“No, Channie”, you pout, calling the nickname you've heard so many people scream when they were fucking, “let's have some fun, hm? What do you think?”

You turn your body to stare at him, putting your hand on his chest, snuggling closer to him. He smells nice and the warmth his body emits makes you want to get even closer.

“What game are you playing?” He asks with a smug smile on his lips, brows lifted in question.

You sigh.

“It's truth or dare”, you tell, rolling your eyes. “Can't you just get hard already so I can be done?”

Chan chuckles, throwing his head back in a loud laugh, you know it's loud because you can hear it even with the loud music playing in the background.

“Do you really think you have what it takes to get me hard, little girl?” He asks playfully, making you scowl.

“Of course I do”, you tell him, crossing your arms.

You can't help but notice the look he sneaks at your breasts almost popping out of your dress. You decide to use that, in your favor.

“Do you wanna touch it, Channie?” You ask, touching your chest with your hands and squeezing your breasts up so he can have a better view.

“If I do get hard”, he clears his throat, “you should think about the consequences of what is going to happen after that”

“I will win the dare and go back to my friends”, you shrug.

Chan smiles, diabolically. Clicking his tongue.

“I don't think so”, he turns to you, sliding his hand on your thigh, squeezing the flesh while he gets closer to your face. “If you do manage to get me hard, I'll take you home and you're going to take care of it. So you better think carefully about your next move”

You feel goosebumps all over your body, it's because you're grossed out, right? You would never feel turned on with Chan speaking so closely to you, his hot breath hitting your skin has nothing to do with the warmth growing in your lower stomach.

“You know what I think, Channie?”, you try to take back control over the situation, “you're afraid your best friend's little sister is going to make you so horny you won't be able to do anything other than beg to cum”, you slide your hand to the hem of his shirt, sliding it under the fabric and brushing your nails on his stomach, close enough to his cock to provoke a reaction out of him.

Chan breaths through his teeth, trying to control himself. He tried being confident, saying those things to you so you'd get scared and go back to your friends. He didn't think you would keep going and now he's not so sure about what he said, since you clearly are managing to get him hard.

He slides his hand under your dress, feeling how wet your underwear is and decides to use that in his favor.

“Are you sure you want to keep this up?” He asks, brushing his fingers over your covered cunt. You don't avoid his gaze, staring at him intensely, you're not going to give in. He smirks, well, if he can't escape this, he better have some fun. “Let’s see who's gonna be the one begging”

You're not sure how the hell you got there, in a moment Chan was whispering something to you and the next he was dragging you to the bathroom, throwing you against the wall. His lips are attached to your neck, sucking so hard you're sure it's gonna leave marks. Your body is pressed against his and you feel his hard cock on your stomach, now that you manage to get him hard it's time to stop it, so why is the only sound that comes out of your mouth muffled moans?

He slides his hands under your skirt, moving your underwear to the side while he presses a finger on your clit.

You have to do something, you need to take control. Your hand touches his covered cock and Chan groans, resting his head on the wall. He hates the idea of leaning on you.

You work fast, unbuttoning his pants and sliding your hand under his underwear, grabbing his cock in a fist, going up and down, feeling his cock twitching in your hand.

Chan was too cocky, he shouldn't have let you do this. Your touch is just too good, he can't help but moan subtly with every stroke you give to his dick.

He's growing restless, even though he's working with his fingers on you he knows it's a lost case. Your hand is soft, massaging his cock gently but firmly and the look in your eyes, like you're watching your prey, the way you have your bottom lip stuck between your teeth, enjoying seeing him panting while you play with him, it's just too much for him. He feels his orgasm getting closer, you can tell by the way his cock is twitching so you slow the speed of your hand, earning a frustrated groan from him.

“Do you like it, Channie?” You ask playfully, watching his voice crack when he tries to speak.

“Stop teasing, you fucking brat”, he grunts.

“That's not what I want to hear, baby”, you say as your index finger twirls over the head of his cock. “Do you wanna cum?”

He nods, feeling the blush on his cheeks grow, he can't believe he's humiliating himself like that.

“Tell me”, you smirk, “tell me what you want, be a good boy for me, yeah?”

You're feeling extra confident now, seeing him whimper when you get back to jerking him off.

“L-Let me cum”, he whispers too low, you're not even sure if you heard him.

“You can do better, Channie”, you tell him, fastening your movements.

“Please”, he whimpers, “let me cum”, he throws his head back, he doesn't want to give in so easily but your hand around him is just divine, he wants to cum so badly he doesn't mind begging at that moment.

“More”, you tell him simply, “beg more”

“Please, I just-” he whimpers.

“Are you going to stop being so mean to me?” You ask, trying to get something out of this, since you have him so vulnerable right now.

He nods frantically, needing his release more than anything. You keep jerking him off faster, while watching him moan, your hand going up and down on his cock.

His cum springs all over your hands, while he groans with faltering movements, trying to calm down from his high. You're almost sure you heard him sob, but if that really happened, he hid it really well.

After cleaning up the mess he made on your hand, you look at him with a pretentious victorious smile.

“I guess I won”, you cross your arms in front of your chest and Chan sighs, not able to look you in the eyes. Acting exactly like you do when you find him and his last fuck in the living room of his apartment.

“Let's just pretend this never happened”, he tells you, turning around and going out of the bathroom.

But you're not so sure if you'll be able to leave him alone now that you tasted this side of him.

[weakformingyu]

oooh Slytherin!hyunjin gives amortentia to reader after she rejects him so many timesss and after the effect gone she found out and mad oooh angst angst idk happy ending hahahahhahahaa (sorry for my bad grammar)

So this ask got me super excited!!! I love writing fantasy so count me in, babes! Please ignore any mistakes since I stopped reading Harry Potter in the forth book and just settled for the movies lmao

Here are some spells used in the story that may be confusing for my sweeties that are not into harry potter:

¹Amortentia: it's the most powerful love potion, it can't reproduce real love and it comes with dangerous side effects like a powerful infatuation or obsession. It smells differently to each person, like the things(or people) the person who's feeling the scent likes.

²Cruciatus: a spell(curse) used to torture people.

I'm using this post to celebrate reaching 200 followers 🥳, thank you for those who like what I write and keep supporting me, I'll keep working hard to bring more nice stories for you!!

I wish you would

Pairing: Slytherin!Hyunjin x fem!reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Warnings: cursing

Word count: 5,120(I'm sorry about that not really I just got very inspired)

Hyunjin is obsessed with you, everyone with eyes and ears knows that. He runs after you like a dog runs after its tail and you always try being nice, try rejecting him in a way to not hurt him but he doesn't seem to take a hint.

Your class just ended, you collect your books and walk to the corridor, feeling his eyes on you.

"What's it?" You ask, turning around to look at him. His green and black uniform matching perfectly with his blond hair. He seems taken aback with the sudden attention, since he's used to you ignoring him.

"I just wanted to give you this", he smiles, holding a paper bag to you, "Felix made brownies and I just thought you'd like a snack, I know you're studying a lot for exams"

You smile, you love brownies but you're not sure if you should accept it. It's been a day since you rejected Hyunjin… again. He doesn't seem bothered by it anymore, he just keeps coming on strong and at this point you already know it's just a trait of his personality to not give up easily. But it would seem inconsiderate to not accept, since he brought it just for you.

"Don't think too much", he shake the bag a little, "I'm just trying to look out for you"

You sigh, accepting the gift and thanking him. It's not going to kill you to be nice this one time.

After saying goodbye you head to the library, you're going to meet Seungmin to study. Your classes are not that difficult this semester, so you're just using your extra time to study for the bigger exams.

It's already past dinner time when you finish your studies, your friend gave up a few hours back and went to the dorms while you stayed to study a bit more.

You're hungry so you look at the paper bag Hyunjin gave you and look inside. The brownies have a nice scent of mint? Maybe Felix added some to the recipe.

One it's not enough, it's so good you end up eating the whole lot. Maybe you shouldn't have, you feel sick instantly after finishing it and the librarian comes running as soon as she looks at your face.

"Are you alright, darling? You look pale", she asks and you nod, maybe the exhaustion is finally hitting you.

You grab your things and walk towards the dormitories of your house, you feel your mouth dry and an empty feeling on your chest. What's going on? You look around, there's very little people in the hall since it's almost curfew time.

When you're crossing the courtyard, you see a shadow of someone hovering over and you stop in your tracks trying to discern who it is.

You tighten the hold on your wand while they get closer, only to breathe relieved seeing it's just Hyunjin.

"It's already late, you shouldn't be wandering around by yourself", he says.

"Oh, I-", you feel your cheeks warm suddenly, do you have a fever? Your hands are sweating too. "Can you help me?" You ask him, stretching your hand for him to hold, your heart beating fast to the thought of touching him. "I'm not feeling very well"

"Yeah?" He raises an eyebrow, surprised, but still takes a step closer to you, grabbing your arm with a hand and sliding his other to your waist, giving you support by embracing you entirely.

"Thanks, I don't know what came on to me", you mumble and you're not sure if he heard, until you feel him tightening the hold he has on you.

"It's okay, it's my pleasure", he whispers close to your ear and you shiver.

It's strange for you to have this kind of reaction, especially to Hyunjin. It's not that you don't like him perse, you just don't think about dating in general. You want to focus on your studies, do well on your exams and have a good career, it's your parents dream that became your dream.

His pursuit over you got boring after the fourth time you rejected him. It was fun in the beginning, he's Hwang Hyunjin after all: handsome, smart and rich, you felt special when he didn't care about all those people that would crawl after him, but would beg for just a single glance of yours. With time it started bothering you, though. It seemed like the more you rejected him, the more interested he would get.

Why did it bother you, though? It feels nice having him holding you right now, he smells like mint, his warmth is shielding you from the cold air and you think it's okay to have him by your side just for a moment.

You can't stop thinking about him, Hyunjin is the first thing in your mind when you open your eyes in the morning and the whole breakfast you spend looking for him around the great hall, thinking about what he'd like to eat and maybe if he would like to walk with you to your classes.

"Are you alright?" Seungmin's voice takes you out of your thoughts, you realize you're just staring at your food for some time now.

"Nothing", you smile slightly, "I just… do you know where Hyunjin is?"

Seungmin frowns, tilting his head to the side while analyzing you.

"Why would I know that? But most importantly, why do you want to know that?"

You sigh, going back to play with your food.

"I just miss him", you mumble, earning a gasp from your friend.

"Did you finally lose it?" He's staring at you with narrowed eyes, disgusted.

You sigh, looking around one more time and finally seeing Hyunjin entering the hall, he's talking to a girl. Who is she? Why is she smiling so much to him? Why is he smiling back at her?

Your body moves by itself, getting up and walking with heavy steps towards the entrance where Hyunjin is talking to that girl, he seems excited.

You don't like it.

"Excuse me?" You say, waiting for him to turn around. You have your arms crossed in front of your chest and a foot tapping impatiently on the floor.

He looks at you with a smile that almost makes you melt, almost. You get even angrier, did he smile like that to her too?

"Oh, y/n, what can I do for you?"

"Who is she?" You ask without even thinking, why does that matter?

"We have divination together", he answers simply, just like that, as if that was a good enough answer. He frowns in confusion when you don't say anything and keep just staring at him. "Hm, we were just talking about some crazy prophecy Trelawney came up with in the middle of our class yesterday", he finishes, hoping you're satisfied with his answer.

You take your eyes out of him, looking at the girl and lifting one eyebrow, she smiles sheepishly at you and say goodbye to Hyunjin, walking to her house's table.

"Why did you take so long?" You step closer to him, grabbing his hand and holding it with yours.

"I didn't know you were waiting", he answers, leaning closer to you with a smirk in his lips.

"Well, I'll be waiting from now on so you better get here quickly"

You turn around, facing the tables. People are staring and whispering, of course, you never gave the time of day to him, it's something unpredictable to see you being cozy.

You slide his arms over your shoulder, a message to every other person that he's yours now. You're not sure where this possessiveness is coming from but it's there and you have to make it clear.

Hyunjin didn't think the potion would actually work, he's not that good at potions. He's been trying to catch your attention for a very long time but you rejected him over and over. He could have anyone he wanted, just not you and that made him crazy in the beginning, he just wanted you more and more, he's very ambitious after all.

However, after some time, he realized his feelings were deeper than what you thought, even more than he thought.

He started noticing every little thing about you, how you frown when you concentrate too hard, how you make every little feeling of yours show in your face. How you always have to be right.

And how you didn't want anything to do with him.

He was in love with you. That made him desperate, he needed you and you kept turning him down.

So he took drastic measures, he's not sure it's the most ethical thing to do, but he's unquestionably cunning, so he would do anything to achieve his goal.

A week before he gave you the brownies, your potion's class learned how to brew amortentia and he knew he had to give it a try. He spent nights awake trying to make the perfect potion, strong enough for it to work instantly and last long enough for you to not fall out of love easily.

"Are you really going to use a love potion?" Felix asks while watching Hyunjin mix the liquid with the brownies batter.

"I need to", he answers.

"She's going to be pissed if she finds out, you know that, right?" Felix tries again, it's not easy to make Hyunjin give up when he sets his mind to something.

"At least she'll be looking at me", his answer takes Felix by surprise, he knows Hyunjin is in love with you but maybe he can't grasp the depth of his feelings.

Hyunjin decides to wait, he'll try one more time before using the charmed brownies. He sees you in the courtyard, reading. You look beautiful with your hair messed by the wind and your lips moving, pronouncing the words in the book.

"So", he starts, he always tries to be confident around you, even though every time you turn him down his self esteem takes a blow. "When are we going on that date?", he asks, sitting by your side and watching you lift your eyes out of the book to look at him.

"Hm, I don't know about that", you smile kindly. He thinks you're cute being so considerate and trying not to hurt his feelings. Maybe if you weren't so nice to him, he'd already have gotten over you.

"What do I have to do for your answer to be yes?" He asks, bending his upper body to look at your face since you're looking at the book on your lap now.

"Let's not, Hyunjin", you sigh, "you know it's always going to be no"

He swallows hard, he did wish you were harsher in your rejection but he didn't think it would hurt so much.

"I'm not going to give up", he gets up, winking at you, he's too proud to show how hurt he is. "I know you don't dislike me, so that's a win for me", he smiles at you, even though he feels like he's suffocating.

He knows your personality, if you hated the idea of him hitting on you so much, you would already have threatened to crucio him but you don't and it's not because you're too polite for that, he has seen you fight people for much less.

He goes back to the Slytherin's common room and sits in front of the fireplace. It's getting cold lately, you shouldn't stay outside so much and for so long.

He just wants you to look at him, he's sure if you just get to know him better you'll want to be with him, he'll make sure of it.

So he gives you the brownies even though he feels a bit guilty about it, it's to late to back down when he sees you already turning around the corner, heading to the library.

He's restless, not sure when you're going to eat the brownies or if you are going to actually do it, he tries playing a bit of quidditch with his friends and studying but he's too anxious to concentrate on anything other than you. So he stays close to the library, waiting for you to finish your things.

As soon as you walk by the courtyard he can tell you're sick, so he gets closer and helps you get to your common room. Did you actually ask for his help? That sounds like a dream to him, just the thought of being next to you is enough to make him the happiest person alive, feeling your warmth against his body was enough to make him melt. If you didn't need his support, he'd be laying on the floor.

After giving him a peek on the cheek and leaving him behind in the great hall, after breakfast he can feel a burning gaze and he knows exactly who it is from. Seungmin, your best friend.

You might be enchanted but he's not, and if Hyunjin doesn't give you more of the love potion, Seungmin is going to make you fall out of love, he's sure of it.

He brews more of the potion, putting it on another batch of brownies to give to you. And you love the gift, eating all of it while studying with Hyunjin in the library. You're not studying much actually, you're just looking at him and asking questions about him, what he likes to do, about his family and his friends. It's an entirely new world to have all your attention to himself, he loves it, loves to spend time with you. The longer he stays in your presence the more he's sure that he does love you, all of you.

You're feeling tired lately, you lost all the deadlines to your projects in the last two weeks and now you're having to pull all nighters to try and get them all ready before the end of the semester. You have been spending a lot of time with Hyunjin, all the time you're not in class revolves around him.

He has been giving you lots of brownies lately and you're actually getting sick of it but you don't want to be a killjoy and end up accepting it anyway, eating it when you're bored.

This was the last time you accepted it though, you're going to say that you don't want it from now on and maybe Seungmin can help you eat these ones. Your best friend is at the library, waiting for you. He's going to help you finish some details of your project.

"I brought this for you", you shake the paper bag, holding it out for him.

He opens it and looks inside.

"Why does it smells like wood?" He scowls.

"What are you talking about?" You laugh awkwardly, "it smells like mint"

He stares at you for a few seconds before gasping, his hand palming his mouth.

"That's what's wrong with you!" He gets up, throwing the paper bag in the trash and ignoring your 'hey!' in protest. "Did Hyunjin give this to you?" He asks.

"Yes, why?"

"For how long have you been eating these brownies? Did they smell like that since the first time?" He ignores your questions, he looks absolutely out of it.

"Yeah, he gave me the first one's like two weeks ago", you frown, trying to understand what he's trying to say.

"He's been giving you amortentia", he tells you, running his hand through his hair, "how did I not realize that sooner, you've been acting weird for a reason!"

You feel your heart sink, he's been doing what?

That's not possible, he would never do something like that. Right?

You gasp, looking back to the way you have been acting lately, did he really charm you? So none of the things you're feeling are really real?

You managed to stay away from him for so long and suddenly you couldn't think about anything but him, the reason was right under your nose, you can't believe you didn't notice the signs.

"How much time does it take for it to wear out?" You ask, not really remembering what the professor taught you.

"A few hours minimum, a day or two if it's strong enough", Seungmin answers, whatching you seat and look at your fingers. Your chest hurts.

"Can I stay with you tonight? The last batch he gave me was yesterday, I may be fine tomorrow morning", you want to cry, Seungmin recognizes that face. You're looking around trying to prevent the tears from falling and he wants to kill Hyunjin for that.

Seungmin has been your best friend since first year, he didn't think he would have so much in common with someone from your house, but you two just clicked. He knows you like Hyunjin but you're too focused on your future to actually see that. Every time he makes a move on you, you'll turn him down, but your friend can see your eyes lingering on his figure while he walks away, you keep looking until he disappears and then you sigh. Sometimes Seungmin even sees you giggling from something Hyunjin says and your eyes shine brighter in those moments, he's not sure how you didn't realize it yet.

After the hurt eases a bit, you start getting mad. You wake up in the morning and all you can think about is a way to murder Hwang Hyunjin. You can't believe he used you like that, like a fucking toy for him to play house with.

You see him in the corridor, he smiles looking at you and opens his arms, waiting for a hug with a big smile on his face. Disgusting, that's all you can think.

"My love"

You walk confidently to him, taking him by surprise by hitting him in the face with a mixture of punch and slap, doing the movement of a slap but hitting him with your closed fist. He bends down, touching his cheek and looking at you, betrayal in his eyes.

"You fucking asshole!" You're seeing red, you didn't think you'd feel so livid seeing him, you're so hurt, so angry.

"Babe?" He looks at you like you're the one in the wrong.

"Don't", you take a deep breath, looking around to try and ease your anger, "don't call me that. You used a fucking love potion on me? What kind of loser does that?"

He gasps, he didn't think you'd find out about it, not so soon. He was sure he could make you fall in love with him and later on he would tell you about what he did.

Hyunjin could have anyone, there are dozens of people falling on their knees for him, you just can't understand why it has to be you.

"Let me explain, yeah?" He tries, taking a step closer and trying to hold your hands but you step back, glaring even harder at him.

"Don't touch me" you say, gritting your teeth, "you're disgusting"

You turn around, seeing the amount of people looking at your fight with shocked expressions in their faces. Of course no one's going to believe he gave you a love potion, he doesn't need that, he's Hwang Hyunjin.

That makes you even angrier.

You walk fast away from there, you can't believe you have to go through this kind of thing and the worst part is, why does it hurt so much? The effects of the potion must have ended by now, then why do you feel like you can't breath? The tears run out of your eyes without your permission and the hiccups come naturally with the painful cries.

You feel tired, frustrated, overwhelmed but most of all you feel heartbroken. There's no more potion tempering with your feelings but you still feel a lot of different emotions you shouldn't be feeling. It's not possible that you really like him.

The right reaction is for you to curse him, feel mad about all he's done and hate him with all your being. But you're feeling hurt and you want to curse at him, obviously you're angry about what he's done, but you're worried about him too, maybe you were too harsh.

No.

You'll not let any feelings you have let him get away with manipulating you. If you really do like him you're just going to have to stop.

Hyunjin can't eat, can't sleep, can't study, in other words, he can't function properly. You don't speak to him, you don't look at him, you don't even aknowledge his existence.

You don't eat when he's in the great hall, you will sit in the fartest seat from him when you're in the same class and everytime he tries talking to you, your personal bodyguard, Seungmin, prevents him from doing it.

He can't live like this, Hyunjin feels like he's about to die at any moment and he just doesn't know what to do.

Felix is too nice to actually say it but he looks at Hyunjin with that 'I told you so' look and just watches again as his friend sits in his bed and spends minutes staring at nothing.

"Was it that bad?" He asks but he already knows the answer. The whole school is in uproar after you punched him in the middle of the corridor before classes started, so to say everyone knows about what happened it's an understatement.

"She's not even looking at me", Hyunjin says finally and Felix sighs, sitting by his side and patting his back.

"I think you should give her some time", Hyunjin scowls after hearing that, even though he knows his friend is probably right.

It hurts so much, even more than when you just ignored him. Because now that he felt your warmth, he can't live without it.

Since Seungmin met you, this is the first time he has to worry about you. Even when you pulled all-nighters studying or joined too many extracurricular activities, you always took care of yourself. This time though, you're not.

Your grades are back to normal and your projects are all ready a week before the deadline but at what cost? You are not sleeping properly, there are huge eyebags under your eyes and you lost weight, your hair is always a mess and your clothes are far from your usual tidy style. He knows you realized your feelings for Hyunjin and you're just trying to bury them without actually trying to understand them and he just doesn't know what to do to help you. Every time he tries talking about it, you'll brush it aside and tell him you're not in the mood for that.

The winter holidays come to you like a gift and a curse, you don't have lots of work to take care of so you can rest but you don't have lots of work to take care of so you don't have anything to distract yourself from your wandering thoughts, those ones that always end up on the same person.

You never thought it would be so hard to get over someone, in some way your brain probably knew that the moment you let someone walk past your walls it wouldn't be easy to undo the damage made. That's why you always run from Hyunjin, because it would be torturous to stay away from him after you let your feelings be known.

As the weeks go by, your anger subside a bit. You still can't forgive what he did but you miss him too much to still be mad. You were pretty confident in the first few weeks, concentrating all your energy in your classes and projects, trying to forget about him. However, the more time passed, the more you thought you actually liked him… way before the amortentia happened.

You two met each other in your first year, but you were children that didn't care about the opposite sex and it went like that till fifth year, when you two turned fifthteen and puberty just hit him like a truck over summer break. He came back taller, his voice changed a bit too and his facial expressions as a whole were sharper, more eye-catching than ever.

It wasn't different for Hyunjin, however you always caught his eye. When he was younger he thought you were cute for a girl and he has never been easy to impress. When you grew up you became so pretty he couldn't take his eyes out of you. That was the first time he ever asked someone out and the first time he was rejected, it really hurt his pride. And now, finishing your seventh year, it's the first time you're realizing that maybe he fell first but you fell harder.

The classes come back in the blink of an eye, you're not sure you're happy or sad about it since you don't know what to do with the whole Hyunjin situation.

It all gets worse when you see him in the corridor, he's looking around, fidgeting and you just know he's waiting for you.

You try walking past him, but he lifts his eyes as if he felt your presence and you see the corner of his mouth going downwards and his lips quivering.

"Can- can we talk?" He pleads, his voice shaking, it's too much for him to finally see you again, finally have you looking at him again.

You look down, trying to decide what to do and end up nodding, turning around and leading him to an empty classroom. He closes the door and watches as you wander around the class, brushing your fingers on the table's surface, avoiding looking at him.

"How are you?" He asks finally, after a few minutes of torturous, awkward silence.

"Just fine", you answer, looking at every piece of the room but not at him. You're afraid that if you look him in the eyes you're going to cave in and you just can't give in so easily.

"I'm having a really hard time", he tells you.

"Didn't ask", you stop in your tracks, annoyed with yourself because it hurts to be mean to him. "Let's get this over with", you manage to say, even though the ache in your chest is making it difficult to breathe.

He sighs, running his hands through his hair.

"I- I'm really sorry about what I did, y/n, can you please forgive me?" He begs and you finally turn around, trying to keep your cool, the anger is coming again and you feel your face hot.

"Are you asking me to forgive you for tampering with my feelings? Or for pulling this shit just because you're obsessed with something you can't have?"

He frowns, it's not like that, he knows that but clearly you don't.

"Y/N, I have wanted you all the same since the beginning. I can't have anyone else, not because I'm obsessed but because I'm in love with you", he takes a step towards you, "you make me feel alive, that's why I keep trying over and over again"

You're taken aback by the confession, so shocked you don't even notice how close he got to you in a few moments but you can't let him get away from this, not when your pride is involved.

"Do you think it's fair to make someone like you just because you like them? Would you ever have told me about what you did or would you keep me like a fucking toy until you were tired of playing with me?"

He stares at you for a moment, a desperate look on his face. He wasn't trying to hurt you. He was selfish, he knows that and you have the right to not want anything to do with him anymore, but he has to try earning you back.

"I know I shouldn't have gave you a love potion, I know it's wrong and I did know you wouldn't like having your feelings messed with", he takes one of your hands and puts it in his chest, right above his heart and for the first time since you found out about what he did, you don't want to pull your hand away from his touch. "I was going to tell you, I swear, I just wanted to make you really look at me and see it was worth giving me a chance", he smiles sadly, "you are right to hate me after what I did but if you do forgive me I swear that I'll make up for it every day of our lives and I'll make you happier than you ever thought could be possible. It's going to be my goal, my mission, the biggest of my ambitions"

You sigh, it hurts. Logically, you shouldn't forgive him. But love is not logical and you want to accept his proposal. You know it's dumb and you know it's risky but never in your life did you really make a choice that you wanted to. You had to be a good student so your teachers would like you, you had to behave so your family would be proud of you, you had to have good grades so your parents would be satisfied, because they told you you needed to have the greatest career and that became your dream, but you never stopped to think about what you really wanted.

"If you didn't use the potion, would you keep trying to win me over?" You whisper, trying to decide what answer to give him.

"Yes, probably forever. Until you threatened to kill me or married someone else", he smiles, "not going to assure you I wouldn't try stealing you from your partner, but that would hold me back a little", he chuckles.

You sigh, why must you like him so much?

"I swear I'll make you regret it if you ever use any magic on me again", you say through gritted teeth, glaring at him, "and I like the thing you said about making up for it our whole lives"

A big smile grows on his lips and you feel your cheeks getting hot, how can someone be this beautiful?

"Then, will you give me another chance?" He asks in a breath.

"I'll let you take me on a date and I'll decide after that"

He smiles widely, throwing his arms around you and kissing the top of your head.

"I'll make it be a yes", he whispers, squeezing you more in his embrace.

You know you'll forgive him completely soon, Hyunjin can't hide his emotions from you so you know he's telling the truth but you sure as hell are not going to make it easy for him.

[weakformingyu]

BITCHHHHHHHHHH, THE FACT THAT I DIDN'T SEE WHO WAS THE AUTHOR AND WHILE I WAS READING I WAS LIKE "DAMN, THIS IS GOOD ASF I'LL HAVE TO FOLLOW THIS AUTHOR", JUST TO LOOK AT THE HAND AND SEE IT'S MY BEAUTIFUL BFF 🤭🤭 I'M SO PROUD

"Let Me Make You a Mommy"

SKZ Hyung Line x Reader

⤷ Smut | drabbles/hard thoughts

⤷ WC - 1.6k [total]

⤷ CW - Breeding kink, praise, teasing, overstimulation, anal sex, unprotected sex, power play, body worship

⤷ A/N: I started writing for one and then I just decided to do all of them... Maknae line will be posted next friday!♡

⋆｡‧˚ʚ Masterlist ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Chan

He’s buried deep inside you, slow and low, with his forehead pressed to your shoulder, groaning your name like a prayer that keeps getting answered.

You’re both so gone - sweat-slicked, sheets ruined, nails raked down his back. He’s been talking the whole time, voice dropping into that raw, ruined register that makes the filthiest things sound like gospel/

 So good, so tight, fuck, I missed this, made for me, you’re mine.

And then-

“Gonna make you a mommy.”

It slips out so fast he doesn’t even realize it at first. It’s not until your breath catches and your body freezes that he catches himself. And then he’s frozen with you, silently trying to find a pathetic cover up he knows won’t work. You pull back just enough to look at him, wide-eyed. 

“What…?”

Chan blinks. His mouth opens -then closes.

“I -uh…” A breath. “I didn’t… mean to say that.”

But you heard it. The way his voice cracked, the way his hips stuttered like the thought of it nearly made him come.

“You sure?” you ask, soft, curious. Not judging. Just listening. 

He groans, burying his face in your neck. “Don’t do this to me,” he mutters.

You laugh. “You did it to yourself.”

He’s still inside you. Still hard. Maybe harder after what he’s said. So you press your hips up just a little, clench around him, and ask, “You want to make me a mommy, Chan?”

“No,” he growls. Then again - less convincing, “Yes.” Then, quietly, “God, yes.”

He kisses you like he’s overflowing, confessing a deep dark fantasy. Maybe he is and it’s hot. The look in his eyes as he conjures up every single thought he’s ever had about breeding you full. 

“I think about it,” he admits. “When I’m alone. When I’m fucking you. When you smile at me in the kitchen like I wouldn’t drop to my knees for you.” His voice drops to a whisper. “I want you full. Round. Mine.”

You’re soaking now. And he feels it.

“You’re not letting this go, are you?” he murmurs.

You smile. “Not a chance.”

He growls again, grabs your wrists, pins them above your head.

“Then I guess I better make it worth it.”

And this time when he says it - “Let me make you a mommy” - he says it on purpose.

Minho

“You want it that bad?”

Minho’s voice is honey laced with venom, seeping into your spine as his hand pushes you down, face to the sheets.

He’s been working you open for what feels like hours, patience laced with punishment. Slick, stretched, and aching - but he still hasn’t fucked you where you need it most.

No - he took your other hole instead. Buried himself deep there, groaning like a sinner at the altar, while you writhed and begged beneath him.

“God,” he mutters, dragging out slowly, just to push back in with a ruthless roll of his hips, “this tight little ass’s already trying to milk me. But you want more, don’t you?”

You whimper, trembling, broken open and empty.

“Minho, please - please-”

He stills. Entire body locking up, voice turning cold and dark.

“Say it right.”

You blink, dazed. “W-what?”

His thumb brushes your lip from behind, a cruel mockery of softness. Then he thrusts just deep enough to make your eyes roll back.

“You want me to fill you up?” he asks, low and cruel. “You want my cock in your soaked little pussy? Want me to fuck you full and watch it take?”

You’re dizzy with it - with him - slick pooling between your thighs, untouched, throbbing. He knows it. You’ve been clenching around nothing all night.

“Say it,” he growls. “Say what you want.”

And then he drops it - just above a whisper, but it crashes through you like a bomb:

“Let me make you a mommy.”

You gasp - wrecked.

“Minho-”

“Say it,” he hisses. “Or I’ll finish right here. You’ll be dripping down your thighs, and you won’t get what you’re begging for.”

You're trembling. Desperate. You choke on it.

“P-please,” you whisper. “Make me a mommy.”

He groans - so loud it echoes in the room.

And in one breathless, brutal motion, he pulls out and thrusts deep into your soaked cunt, bottoming out so hard your body jolts. The stretch, the fullness, after so much denial. You scream his name like it’s a confession.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he moans, heady and deep like his pace - already punishing. He’s got one hand in your hair, the other gripping your hip hard enough to bruise. “Should’ve said it sooner.”

You’re sobbing now - too much, too good - each thrust tearing you in half and stitching you back together.

“Gonna fill you up so deep,” he pants, losing control now, “gonna stuff you full like you’re meant to be - fuck, baby, I’ll give you everything -”

You can feel it coming - his orgasm, yours, both tangled into something molten and terrifying.

And as you fall apart beneath him, tears streaking your face, voice shaking, he leans in close, breath hot against your ear.

“You’re my baby” he whispers, so sweet it hurts. “All mine, full and leaking.”

Changbin

He holds you like you’re breakable - even though you’ve already begged him not to be gentle.

The sheets are a mess. Your thighs are sticky, trembling from your second orgasm. Changbin’s flushed and breathless above you, gaze flickering between your eyes and the place where your bodies meet, like he still can’t believe this is real.

“You okay?” he whispers, thumb brushing your cheek, sweat-damp curls sticking to his forehead.

You nod, breath hitching as his hips roll again, cock dragging against your soaked, swollen walls.

“Too good,” you manage, “Feels too good - Binnie, I can’t-”

“Yes, you can,” he says, leaning down to kiss your jaw, your throat, your collarbone. “You always take me so well.”

Then he slows, presses deep, and stays there, buried to the hilt, eyes locked on yours.

And in the quiet, he says it:

“Let me make you a mommy.”

You blink, stunned still.

His voice is soft. Barely a whisper. But it shakes.

“I want it,” he says, pressing his forehead to yours. “I want to see you round with me. Full of me. I think about it all the time.”

Your breath catches in your throat. He’s still inside you. Still hard. Still there - every inch of him trembling with want.

“I want you like this forever,” he murmurs, slowly moving again. “Messy and mine. I want to come so deep you feel me for days.”

You moan his name, hips rising to meet his.

“You’d be such a good mom,” he groans, thrusts picking up. “So beautiful. So fucking sexy.”

“Binnie-”

“Let me give it to you,” he gasps, panting into your neck. “Let me fill you ‘til there’s nothing left but me.”

You come again with a choked cry, clutching at him like he’s oxygen. He follows seconds later, voice breaking as he spills inside you - hips stuttering, arms locked tight around your waist like he’s anchoring himself to the idea of you, forever.

And when it’s over, when your bodies are tangled and quiet, he’s still there. Still holding you like a promise.

Still whispering, “I meant it.”

Hyunjin

Hyunjin touches you like art. Slow, careful, like you’re something sacred he’s not sure he’s worthy of touching.

His hands move like he’s sculpting you, thumbs pressing into the wet between your thighs like he’s shaping something that’s already his. His eyes are wide, lips parted, gaze so tender it makes your chest ache. Every breath is drawn out like he’s memorizing you all over again. 

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he whispers, kissing your belly, your hip, the soft underside of your breast. “I want to give you everything.”

You press into him, breath hitching, and he just melts - forehead to your chest, hands gripping hard at your hips like he’s scared you’ll slip away. “Shit,” he whispers, voice shaking. “You don’t even know what you do to me.”

He lines himself up, cock thick and heavy, dragging through your folds until you're gasping, aching.

“Breathe,” he tells you. “I’ve got you.” Then, he’s pushing inside - slow at first, like he’s afraid to break you. His mouth presses to your throat, his breath warm and shaking.

“Fuck - you feel like heaven,” he says, voice already cracking. “Every time.”

He starts slow, almost too slow - hips rolling like waves, each thrust deliberate. It builds heat low in your belly, that unbearable pressure that keeps you pinned under him. You’re nails skin into his shoulder harder with each time he sinks into you, making love. 

And then - something shifts.

You say his name, soft and wrecked. You beg him to go faster. You wrap your legs around his waist and meet his thrusts with your own, and that’s when the calm snaps.

“I want it,” he pants, his voice breaking against your skin. “I want to fill you up - want to feel you take all of me.”

Your hands claw at his back. He thrusts again, losing the rhythm, chasing something primal.

His grip tightens.

His pace turns brutal.

And his mouth finds your ear, breath hot and ragged.

“Let me make you a mommy,” he rasps, voice wrecked and raw and so, so honest. “Please - let me fuck it into you, let me give you everything - every fucking drop.”

You moan, breathless, trembling under him, and that’s all it takes.

He breaks.

“You want that, don’t you?” he pants, fucking you hard now, rhythm punishing. “Want me to fuck you so deep you don’t know where I end and you begin?”

Every thrust is frantic now - deep, bruising, like he’s trying to imprint himself inside you. His moans turn into whimpers, praise falling from his lips between curses.

“So good for me - fuck, you’re perfect - gonna look so pretty carrying my baby, fuck-”

When he finally comes, it’s with a shattered cry of your name, forehead pressed to yours, his whole body trembling as he pours everything into you like it’s a prayer. A promise

And you believe him.

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[weakformingyu]

when you grew up as a lonely uncool girl it will never stop haunting you by the way. you will meet a cool person at a bar or the train station or at a friend's party and you can wear your most stylish outfit and striking eye makeup and you will swear that they can see through all of the facade and see the lonely terribly insecure teenage girl you used to be who desperately wanted to connect and you will swear that they know that there is like an insurmountable gap between you. this will happen forever

[weakformingyu]

Gonna save this cause every time I'm on my period I wanna kms

WHEN ON PERIOD:

do not crash out

your feelings are NOT valid

do not send that text

don't kill yourself. lock in

do not act on negative emotions until at least 2 days have elapsed

[weakformingyu]

⊹₊⟡⋆

telling bsf skz you had a sex dream about them !!

a/n: :3