The Smell of Nothing
Choi Seungcheol X f! Reader
MDNI | Mature | Slow Burn | Smut
An unannounced visit to thank you for unspoken kindness turns into a breathless encounter that threatens to shatter all your boundaries.
Part 2
The white room hummed with its usual, quiet sounds—the whisper of the climate control, the steady tick of something metallic, and the low bubbling of the distillation unit. You'd arrived at 6:47 AM, forty-three minutes before your usual time, because the alternative was lying in bed staring at your ceiling and replaying Friday night on a loop.
Monday. A fresh start. A clean page.
Your charcoal-grey silk blouse sat crisp against your collarbones, the top button secured exactly at the hollow of your throat. Your glasses sat straight. Your hair was neat. The armor was back in place, and this week, it would stay there.
You pulled on your glovesand reached for a rack of sterile pipettes. CSC-1 through CSC-5 sat lined up on your workstation, the five vials you'd delivered to his apartment. He hadn't contacted you all weekend. No follow-up from his manager. No acknowledgment from Director Park beyond a curt email Saturday morning confirming she'd received word from his agency that he was recovering.
Fine. Good. The project would proceed through proper channels from now on. No more locked doors. No more whispered provocations. No more feverish hands gripping your wrist in the dark.
Your phone buzzed against the lab bench.
The receptionist's code number flashed on the caller ID. You peeled off one glove and pressed accept.
"Director? There's a delivery for you at the front desk."
"I'm not expecting anything."
"It's, um." The receptionist paused. A muffled sound, like she'd covered the receiver with her palm. When she came back, her voice had shifted into something carefully neutral. "It's flowers. You might want to come up here yourself."
The lobby smelled wrong the moment you pushed through the glass doors.
Your building's ground floor maintained a carefully controlled fragrant environment. A custom scent diffuser pumped a subtle blend of white tea and bergamot through the AC system at all times, designed to convey calm competence without overwhelming visiting clients. You'd formulated it yourself three years ago.
Now the entire reception area reeked of gardenias.
The bouquet sat on the front desk like a floral monument. Massive. Headline-grabbing. A dense cloud of white petals and glossy green leaves spilling over the edges of a crystal vase so heavy the receptionist had placed a protective mat beneath it. The stems were wrapped in cream silk ribbon. The arrangement must have cost more than your monthly grocery budget.
"What in the world," you breathed.
The delivery courier stood by the desk, tablet in hand, expression bored. "Signature required."
"Who sent these?"
He pointed at the small card tucked into the stems. Thick cream stock. Heavy weight. The kind of stationery that cost more than the flowers.
You pulled the card free. The envelope wasn't sealed. Four words in sharp, heavy handwriting that slanted across the paper with the confidence of someone who'd never second-guessed a decision in his life.
Thank you. — CSC
The panic hit like a chemical reaction. Instantaneous. Irreversible.
Your fingers crushed the card against your palm as the receptionist leaned forward, her eyebrows climbing toward her hairline. "Is that from a client? It's gorgeous. Who's CSC?"
"Nobody. A vendor. Thanking me for a rush order." The lie came out clipped, clinical, and you didn't wait to see if she believed it. You grabbed the crystal vase with both hands, the weight of it straining your wrists, and practically sprinted down the hallway. You didn't want anyone else to see it, to avoid office banter or teasing.
Water sloshed over the rim. A gardenia petal detached and fluttered to the carpet. You didn't stop. Past the elevators. Past the break room where two junior chemists were refilling their coffee mugs. Past Director Park's office, mercifully dark, her door still closed.
Your private office sat at the far end of the corridor, a small windowless room you'd claimed three years ago and never surrendered. You shouldered through the door, set the vase on your desk with a heavy thud, and locked the door behind you.
The click of the deadbolt echoed in the silence.
You stood there, back pressed against the door, staring at the bouquet. The gardenias seemed to pulse in the dim light, their fragrance thickening the air until you could taste it on your tongue. Sweet. Heavy. Completely inappropriate for a professional workspace.
He'd sent you flowers. Choi Seungcheol, a global idol, man who'd rejected every generic sample pushed at him by the marketing team, man who'd whispered against your ear in an empty boardroom and gripped your wrist in a feverish bedroom, had sent you a bouquet the size of a small child.
Not just any flowers. White ones. The kind that made people talk.
Your phone buzzed in your pocket.
You ignored it. You had work to do. Formulations to adjust. Data to analyze. Professional boundaries to rebuild brick by brick.
The gardenias watched you from the corner of the desk like a fragrant accusation.
Lunch came and went. You ate a protein bar over the sink in the private bathroom attached to your office, unwilling to risk the break room and its inevitable questions. The bouquet had been impossible to hide. By now, half the building probably knew the weird perfumer from the basement had received flowers from someone who signed his name in initials.
Your phone buzzed again at 1:47 PM.
Not a call. A text message. An unknown number flashed across the screen, and the preview made your stomach drop.
Unknown Number: did you get them?
Your pulse spiked. You could feel it in your throat, at your wrists, a sudden hammering that had nothing to do with caffeine. Your thumb hovered over the message, and you told yourself you didn't know who this was. You told yourself it might be a wrong number. You told yourself a dozen lies in the space of three seconds.
You opened the message.
You: How did you get my number?
The reply came faster than should have been possible. He must have been holding his phone, waiting.
Unknown Number: got it from your manager pls don't be mad at her, i insisted. i just wanna thank you for last time
Your jaw tightened. He'd compromised your manager. Director Park, who'd spent eighteen months respecting your boundaries and your basement sanctuary and your pathological need for professional distance, had handed over your personal number like it was a business card at a networking event. You'd have words with her later. Sharp ones.
But first—
You: oh ok. the flowers were too much, but you're welcome.
You stared at the screen, thumb poised over the keyboard. The typing indicator appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again. He was composing, deleting, recomposing. The image of Choi Seungcheol, a man who had dismissed his entire entourage with a single gesture and locked a boardroom door without breaking eye contact, struggling to find the right words in a text message did something complicated to your chest.
Cheol: did you like it?
Four words. Simple. Direct. The same way he'd asked about scent profiles and longevity expectations, lacing every question with double meanings.
Your thumb hovered.
Then you put the phone face down on the desk.
The screen went dark against the wood. No response. No typing indicator. Just silence, and the heavy sweetness of gardenias, and the distant hum of the compounding room's climate control cycling through its phases. You decided not to reply to not let him continue with what he's trying to do. Keep it professional you tell yourself.
By 5:30 PM, the building had emptied.
The overhead fluorescents in the main laboratory dimmed automatically at five, triggered by motion sensors that hadn't registered movement in the corridors for twenty minutes. Only your workstation remained illuminated, a pool of warm task lighting that cast long shadows across the stainless steel benches.
You sat at your desk, finishing documentation that could have waited until tomorrow. The gardenias had begun to drop petals. Three of them lay on the wood beside your keyboard, white against dark grain, and you hadn't been able to bring yourself to sweep them into the trash.
The heavy security door clicked open.
You heard it through the wall, the distinctive hiss of the laboratory's main entrance disengaging. Footsteps crossed the compounding room. Slow. Deliberate. Not the hurried clip of a junior chemist retrieving a forgotten phone. Not the measured stride of Director Park coming to demand an update on the CSC formulations.
You knew those footsteps.
You'd heard them on the executive floor, crossing mahogany and wool carpet. You'd heard them in his apartment, muffled by the designer rug in his living room. You'd heard them in your dreams for five nights running.
Seungcheol walked into your office like he belonged there.
No entourage. No manager. No garment bag or stylist or agency representative trailing in his wake. Just him, in a casual grey hoodie and dark jeans, his hair slightly messy and damp from the humid evening air. The idol armor was gone. The sharp jaw and broad shoulders remained, the dark eyes and the mouth that curved into a slow, knowing smile the moment he saw your phone lying face down on the desk.
"Leaving me on read, Director?"
His voice was low. Amused. The same voice that had curled around the words let's do more next time and left you checking your collar for phantom buttons.
"I had to come make sure you didn't choke on the fragrance of those gardenias." He gestured at the bouquet, still massive, still fragrant, still dominating the corner of your desk like a floral monument. "The scent is pretty strong. Thought it might overwhelm your sensitive nose."
"I'm fine." Your voice came out flat. Controlled. The armor was holding. "You didn't need to come here."
"Maybe not." He set the padded black sample box on your desk, right next to the vase. Your sample box. The one you'd left on his console table Friday night, five glass vials nestled in foam, labeled in your precise handwriting. "But I wanted to return these in person. And since you weren't answering my texts..."
He let the sentence hang. His eyes tracked across your face, your high buttoned collar, your perfectly straight glasses, and the smirk that pulled at the corner of his mouth was the same one he'd worn in the boardroom. The same lazy, knowing acknowledgment that he saw your walls and found them charming.
He opened the box. Ignored the official evaluation sheets clipped to the lid. Slid two specific vials forward across the wood.
CSC-2. The dark leather. The heavy one.
CSC-5. The one with his synthesized skin scent. The one you'd been nursing for six weeks before you even knew this project existed.
"I want these two," he said. "Modify them. Combine them."
He walked over, his heavy boots slow and deliberate on the carpet. He swivels your seat a bit to face him before he leans down to plant both of his large hands firmly on the armrests of your chair. He trapped you completely, crowding your space until the faint scent of the gardenias vanished, replaced entirely by him. He was close—so close you could feel the radiating heat of his skin. Underneath the clean scent of his soap, that faint, warm cedar note you’d catalogued in the boardroom mixed with the raw salt of his skin, overwhelming your senses until you were forced to look straight up at him.
"Make it something that stays on the skin." His voice dropped into the lower register. The one designed to bypass ears entirely. "Long after I leave the room."
The words echoed. The same ones he'd spoken across the mahogany table, his forearms resting on the wood, his dark eyes catching yours and holding them. Don't you agree, Director?
Your hands moved before your brain approved.
You grabbed his arms. The muscle beneath the hoodie was solid, warm, and you shoved him backward with more force than necessary. He stumbled half a step, surprise flickering across his features, and you used the space to stand up from your chair and walk across the room.
"I got it." The words came out clipped. Professional. "I'll work on your request."
You turned to face the filing cabinet on the far wall. Your back to him. Your fingers found the handle of a drawer and pulled it open, and you began scouring through papers you had no business looking at. Old formulation records. Equipment maintenance logs. Anything to keep your hands busy and your face hidden and your pulse from betraying you the way it had in the boardroom.
You heard him move.
Not toward the door. Toward you.
The footsteps were slow. Deliberate. The same unhurried confidence with which he'd approached you at the mahogany table, cutting into your personal space like he had every right to be there.
His hands found your waist.
Warm palms settled over the silk of your blouse, fingers curving around the shape of your hips with a gentleness that contradicted the size of them. You went rigid. Every muscle locked. Your hands froze on the papers in the filing drawer, and you could feel him behind you, the heat of his chest radiating through the thin fabric of his hoodie, the length of his body a solid wall at your back.
His face lowered to your neck.
Not touching. Not quite. The space between his lips and your skin was measurable in millimeters, and your breath stopped entirely as his exhale ghosted across the sensitive skin just below your ear.
"For a perfumer," he murmured, "you kind of smell like nothing."
The words registered somewhere deep in your chest. Your fingers tightened on the papers.
"Which is nice. Natural."
You tried to speak. Failed. Tried again.
"Mr. Choi—"
"But really." His voice changed. Dropped the teasing lilt. Dropped the playful confidence. The hands on your waist tightened fractionally, and when he spoke again, the words came out stripped down to something honest. "Thank you so much for Friday night. You didn't have to. But you did."
His forehead lowered. Rested against the crown of your head, a gentle pressure, and the intimacy of the gesture hit you harder than any whispered provocation could have.
"I could have died that night. And no one would have known."
The silence that followed was absolute. No humming climate control. No ticking stirrer. Just the thud of your heart against your ribs and the warmth of his breath against your hair and the impossible weight of his hands on your waist.
"I— I was just doing my job." Your voice came out steadier than you felt. Professional. Detached. The same wall you'd rebuilt every morning for months.
Seungcheol lifted his head.
"That's not part of your job though Miss."
He was right. You both knew it. Perfumers didn't make house calls. They didn't apply cold compresses or cook ramen or let feverish idols clutch their arms in the dark. None of that was in the job description. None of that was professional.
You didn't know what to say.
The silence stretched. His hands stayed on your waist. His breath stayed warm against your neck. The gardenias breathed their heavy fragrance into the room, and somewhere in the distance, the building's AC system cycled through another phase.
Then he leaned down further, his lips brushing the hyper-sensitive skin right against your ear. His voice was a low, steady whisper. A promise, a threat, and an invitation all at once.
"I know you're just trying to keep it professional. I get that" His thumb traced a single arc across your hip bone, the barest pressure through the silk. "When you decide to break that..."
He stepped back.
The sudden cold at your back made you sway. Your hands caught the edge of the filing cabinet, bracing yourself, and you heard his footsteps retreating toward the door.
"You've got my number."
The hiss of the security door. The soft thud of it closing. The silence of an empty laboratory settling around you like a held breath.
Your knees buckled.
You didn't choose it. Your body simply surrendered, the tension that had been holding you upright snapping all at once, and you slid down the side of the filing cabinet until your thighs hit the floor. Your back pressed against the metal drawers. Your hands trembled in your lap.
The realization hit you slowly. Gradually. A warmth spreading low in your belly, a dampness against the silk of your underwear that you'd been too tense to notice until this exact moment. Your thighs pressed together, and the pressure sent a jolt through your nervous system that made your breath catch.
You were wet.
Soaking. Drenched in a way that had nothing to do with the humid summer air and everything to do with his hands on your waist and his voice in your ear and the impossible, infuriating, devastating way he'd said when you decide to break that.
Not if.
When.
Your head fell back against the filing cabinet. The metal was cold through your hair. The gardenias bloomed on your desk, dropping petals one by one, and your phone lay face down exactly where you'd left it, his contact information glowing in the dark screen you couldn't see.
The laboratory hummed its quiet, steady symphony.
You sat on the floor, knees pressed together, pulse hammering at your wrists and your throat and between your thighs, and let the silence swallow you whole.
Synopsis ✨ As the new personal assistant to the manager of the biggest rock band in the world, you see a lot of the shenanigans that go on backstage. And you have no intention of getting involved. But sadly for you, the drummer very much wants to get involved with you.
Genre ✨ rock band au, (sort of) enemies to lovers, angst, fluff
Plot warnings ✨ Seungcheol is an ass at the beginning, the biggest pair of idiots in love (emphasis on the idiots), jealousy, bickering, passive aggressive to the max, mild threats of violence (god help anyone who touches Seungcheol in OC's presence), a little bit of bullying (it isn't Cheol and it lasts about two sentences), she's a little insecure for like a minute, social anxiety in big crowds, a lot of chat about bats (?), drunken phone calls, a huge misunderstanding, he's never been in love and doesn't know how to process his feelings, confessions after they've more or less ruined each other, Woozi has the patience of a saint, a horrible amount of HORRENDOUS pickup lines
Smut warnings ✨ suggestive, references to Seungcheol's various one night stands (we learn a little too much about where his tongue has been), OC can't keep her mind out of the gutter, lots of chat about his arms (a valid smut warning), references to dry humping, references to porn, references to oral. f receiving, references to sucking on balls (?), making out but no actual smut
Word count ✨ 16.7k
Meet the other band members here.
a/n- I've saved my favourite till last and this was going to be the last story for the Shadow guys, but a lovely anon suggested the subby side of Mingyu and I couldn't resist. I have other things I'm working on but I will revisit Shadow sometime soon and show the other side of Mingyu and OC's relationship.
I'm also disgusted to admit that even though those pickup lines Cheol uses are horrible, one of them was literally the reason I went on my first date with my ex-girlfriend years ago..... So, they do work.
And thank you to the anon that asked about having stories for the other band members after you'd read Dino's original one shot. Writing these really cheered me up and helped get me out of a pretty low point I was having. So thank you anon 🩷🩷
Osaka
Your boss said it might take a while but you didn’t think you’d need to spend a whole fifteen minutes knocking more and more loudly on a hotel suite door. Sure, you’re an assistant and to many deemed unimportant in the grander schemes of music producing and performing, but blatantly ignoring someone seems a bit much. You know you’re being ignored because you can hear giggling from the other side of the door, the pair that are in the room obviously in no great rush to see who might be daring to interrupt whatever the hell they’re doing.
You rest your forehead on the door and take a deep breath. This is your first day and already it seems to be going to shit.
Fuck this. You can do this. It’s just a simple form. Your fist connects with the heavy wooden door in a series of bangs that sound more like a police break in than an assistant trying to rouse a rowdy rockstar, but you don’t care. He’s taking the piss and you have other things you need to be doing.
“FUCK WOOZI I GET IT, I’M COMING!”
The door swings open and you’re confronted by the drummer of Shadow, the band your new boss manages and the biggest band in the world, in nothing more than a pair of shorts.
Neither of you say anything for a few seconds, you don’t know what to say. You’re pissed off he’s made you wait. But can you really be mad at a man that looks like that? Because he’s big, bigger than you even imagined. Not that you’ve spent much time thinking about the body of the drummer of your favourite band. You’ve definitely not searched Choi Seungcheol arms over a hundred times on pinterest. Absolutely not.
“You’re not Woozi ,” He smirks, his gaze assessing you from head to toe as he leans on the door frame with his big, muscley, perfect, biteable arms folded. Fuck you need to stop looking at them, but they’re just so big.
“N-no,” Damn, his smirk only grows because of your stuttering. “You need to sign this.”
“There’s no fans allowed into the hotel.”
“I’m not a fan.”
“Sure you’re not. Listen, unless you want to join us, or wait for her to leave and then come in and get a taste of this," he gestures at his body, "I suggest you fuck off and crawl back under whatever weird little rock you came from. Breaking into a hotel is stalker behaviour." His smile is one of sarcasm and it’s at that moment you suddenly realise that the drummer from your favourite band is a fucking asshole.
“I’d rather stick pins in my eyes.” You smile back, enjoying seeing him falter a little, “You or rather your friend needs to sign this. I’m Woozi’s new assistant. I’d ask if you could shout your friend out here for me but I presume you don’t know her name, so can I come in?”
You don’t wait for an answer. Just push past him, ignoring how his skin seems to be as soft as a baby's, and storm into the room to find the poor girl who needs to sign the NDA in your hand.
“Hi,”
“Who’s she?”
“He doesn’t know my name, just like he probably doesn’t know yours. And honestly you seem much too pretty a girl to be treated that way.”
They both look at you a little shocked but you don’t care.
You scan around the room, noting how they’ve clearly had quite the night if the various pieces of clothing around multiple surfaces are anything to go by. You can’t help scrunch your nose a little in disgust when you see three used condoms thrown messily near the bin. You suppose you should be thankful for small mercies, at least he’s not riddling the poor women with diseases and he’s saved an unsuspecting cleaner the trouble of cleaning cum stains off the floor because the idiot has tied a knot in them.
Woozi said he hated having to ask you to do this but there’d been an emergency with the guys taking the stage down in Osaka, ready for you all to move onto Tokyo, and he needed to rush off. You get why he hates it, it’s like making sex a business transaction and you’re the one who’s having to facilitate it. But if you didn’t, you risk the band’s secrets being spilled and then every fan in the world would have the same realisation as you. That Seungcheol is a prick.
“He knows my name,” She narrows her eyes at you but you’re just trying to ignore the little marks Seungcheol has left behind on her neck and breasts. Her only being in her underwear makes it easier to see them and the sight leaves a weird feeling in your stomach even though you’ve just recently decided you hate him.
She turns to Seungcheol, waiting for him to say that he obviously knows the name of the woman he’s spent the night with.
You wish you had her blind optimism.
“S-sure! It’s er…….well it’s er………J….” His “friend's” eyes get wider as he tries to ask if it starts with a J and your heart sinks for her.
You’re all for one night stands. Or not having one night stands. It’s up to whoever it is. But you know if any of the people you’d slept with did what he’s doing right now, you’d feel fucking horrible.
“Could you just sign this please?” You say softly, trying to ignore the clear awkwardness you’ve helped contribute to. Fuck you shouldn’t have said that about names, you were just pissed at him being an asshole by the door.
“No. He can tell me my name.”
You inwardly grown. You love that she’s standing up for herself but you’d rather be back in the hallway whilst she did it.
“Baby,” He smiles, moving towards her, “we just met last night!”
“And yet I’ve had your dick in my mouth. I tend to like to know the names of people whose dick I’ve had in my mouth. And as your tongue has been in my ass hole, I presumed you’d know mine”
Well shit.
You decide to appraise a very odd looking stain on the ceiling and ignore whatever is unfolding in front of you.
“I didn’t……..Did I?......Oh shit, yeah I remember…….NO!” He rushes but it’s too late.
“You’ve already forgotten what happened between us?!!! You literally had your tongue down my throat a minute before she came in here.”
Is there anywhere in this poor woman Seungcheol hasn’t had his tongue?!
You resist giving her a piece of your mind for the way she said “she” and continue assessing what you think might be a wine stain on the ceiling, though how it got there you don’t know.
“Tell me my name and I’ll sign it.”
You glance at Seungcheol, you can tell he’s panicking but you’ve never met either of them until about three minutes ago, so it’s not like you could help even if you wanted to.
When you move over to the desk to get a pen, hoping Seunghceol may somehow remember this woman’s name in this lifetime, you spot her small card holder by her phone. A small card holder holding her drivers license. You hate having to help him, you’d much rather see him suffer but you do technically now have to have his best interests at heart. You don’t suppose your job with Woozi will last very long if you allow this woman to decimate the character of one of the band members.
You glance round, noting she hasn’t moved and does still have her back to you, just as Seungcheol’s panicked eyes find you and he realises what you’re doing.
Slowly, you pick up her wallet and move the license up a little. It feels less like a complete disregard for her privacy and not so big a break in girl code to not fully take it out of the card holder.
“SORA” You mouth dramatically to Seungcheol whilst he tries to act natural. But him fucking squinting like he doesn’t understand isn’t helping.
“SAW,” You mouth, mimicking sawing something in half, “RAAAAA.”
This is fucking stupid and more than a little demeaning. But the big idiot still doesn’t get it.
“SAAAAAAAAW,” You try to act out seeing something in the distance but she turns around and you have to suddenly act natural, holding her card holder behind your back.
“Well?! MY NAME SEUNGCHEOL?!” She whips round back to him.
“SORA.” You mouth in the biggest way you can.
“So…..” You put your thumbs up and mouth it again, “So…ra…..Sora! You’re Sora! See! I never forget a name.” He grins.
You roll your eyes and quickly throw the card holder back just before she turns to check you’ve not helped him in some way.
Fucking moran. He behaves like a chauvinistic pig and yet still somehow gets away with it.
“Could you sign this?” You pear round her with the paper and pen in your hand.
“Like I’d want to tell anyone about being anywhere near him.” She snarls, much to Seungcheol’s shock.
He can’t honestly think she believes he remembered her name? He cannot be that arrogant to think she’d let what just happened slide and continue fawning over him like she no doubt was last night.
She snatches the paper and pen from your hand and marches over to the desk to fill out her name and sign it. You follow Seungcheol’s gaze and note he’s not got a care in the world that he’s probably ruined poor Sora’s whole week. He’s too busy eyeing her ass hungrily, his busy tongue licking his lips like she's lunch.
What. An. Asshole.
“Here.” She slams the paper into your chest and throws the pen at your head.
There is no need for that. And you’re ready to tell her so before Seungcheol pipes up.
“Hey, leave your number. We come back to Osaka every tour y’know.” He leers at her as she quickly gets dressed.
“Get fucked.”
And with that she’s gone in a waft of floral perfume and anger.
“Oh and!” She shouts from the doorway, “Your dick isn’t as big as you say it is!”
The door slams behind her and you both just stand in silence.
“That is not true and the way she was waddling proves it.”
“You’re disgusting.” You glare at him.
“You shouldn’t speak to your boss like that,” he smirks, clearly not affected by a thing that's just happened.
“You’re not my boss. Woozi is.”
“He works for us.” He scoffs.
“You’re signed to his and Jeonghan’s company. They own the company. My contract is with him specifically. I have nothing to do with you.”
“I always like a hot nerd.” He creeps closer.
“Well. I imagine most of the world’s population could be classed as a nerd if they’re comparing themselves to your intelligence.”
You march out of the room. You don’t need a response from him, you’ve already made your mind up about him. Choi Seungcheol is a womanising lowlife who you never want to speak to again. You will never let him anywhere near you, not even if he was the last man on earth.
Tokyo
“Did something happen between you and Seungcheol?” Woozi asks, somewhat apprehensively.
You’re sitting in his suite with him and Jeonghan, all three of you with laptops out, trying to plan schedules for recording the new album and deciding which brand deals, out of the influx of offers that have come in recently, any of the guys should do.
It’s only been five days since you started working for Woozi but you’ve found him to be the complete opposite of Seungcheol. In fact you’ve found that almost everyone on the staff is the opposite of Seungcheol. Every single person, including the other band members, have made you feel nothing but welcome, each of them coming over to introduce themselves and offer help if you need it.
The same cannot be said for Seungcheol.
He has been the most petulant idiot you’ve ever met.
He purposefully asked you where a man called Jihoon was in front of everyone, having not uttered a word to you since the little debacle in his suite. When you told him you didn’t know who Jihoon was, he humiliated you in front of the whole band and the stylists by replying “oh right yeah, I forgot Woozi only tells people he likes his real name.”. Nobody laughed, they all just looked perplexed at what the hell was going on as you both glared at each other. They didn’t even realise you’d been introduced, let alone already seemingly enemies.
You got him back though. Sort of.
You’d had to travel between Osaka and Tokyo with Seungcheol and Woozi because Seungcheol was designing new bass drum skins and you’d be the one putting the order in. As Hoshi had already gone ahead for an event and the two other members tended to like to travel with their girlfriends, you’d ended up with the king of the boneheads.
Just as you saw him taking a gulp of his drink out of the corner of your eye (and checked there were no cars behind you), you shouted out that there was a cat in the road. The driver slammed on and poor old Seungcheol ended up covered in coffee.
It did somewhat backfire on you though. He had sent his bags in one of the other cars and because his sweater was covered in coffee, he decided it was probably best that he just not wear anything at all and opted to discard his sweater completely. You tried your best not to look at him, really you did, but you couldn’t help glancing at him. His knowing smirks and the constant need to catch yourself before you looked at him again, made that seven hour car journey feel like days.
“No.” You glance at him before going back to your laptop, “Why?”
“He’s just being……odd.”
“Is he not odd all the time?” Jeonghan snorts at that and you feel a weird sense of pride that you’ve managed to fit in with them so quickly.
“She’s got a point there.”
“I guess. He just seems different.”
You feel a weird twinge in your stomach at that, a slight panic that there’s something wrong or going on with him. Though you’re not sure why you care, he’s nothing but an ass to you.
Maybe it’s because of what happened in his suite that first morning? He doesn’t like that you saw him being humiliated and now he’s being weird because of it. But he didn’t seem bothered by it at the time so why would he care after the fact.
“There was a girl in his suite when you got me to take the NDA to him, maybe it’s that.”
“_____,” Jeonghan smiles knowingly, “I’d be more surprised if there wasn’t. I don’t think he’s ever been alone in a hotel room in all the years we’ve been doing this.”
That leaves a sour taste on your tongue but you know it has no right to be there.
“She wasn’t exactly…..kind….to him when she left. He’d forgotten her name and she didn’t really like that,”
“Ugh Seungcheol,” Woozi leans back in his seat, wiping his face with his hands, “when will he grow out of all this bullshit!”
“I agree with you but that doesn’t explain what’s going on with those two,” Jeonghan points at you.
“Well. Well. I might’ve called him disgusting?.” Your cheeks heat when neither of them give any sort of reaction.
You jump slightly when laughter ripples through the air and they both beam at you.
“I think you’ll fit in well here ______.” Woozi smiles whilst Jeonghan nods along.
You smile and sheepishly say thank you but you can’t help feeling weird. Something isn’t sitting right with you at all and you’re certain it’s down to Seungcheol. It’s probably hatred and the fact his voice sounds like nails down a chalk board. Yeah…… That’ll be it. It’s definitely nothing else.
One of the main reasons you were excited for this job was because you genuinely loved the band. You were a fan of their music, I fan of their style, you just loved everything about them. You didn’t even really have a favourite, they just all seemed like great guys who made amazing music and that was it. You’d told Woozi you liked the band during your interview and he said it was a good thing, it meant you’d care about your work and so far, that is proving to be true.
You’re standing at the side of the stage watching as thousands of screaming fans sing every word back to Shadow as they perform. That would've been you, in total awe of them as they rocked out in front of tens of thousands of fans.
But instead. You're standing glaring at the drummer whose arms glisten with sweat every time he strikes a cymbal and who you're desperately trying not to look at. But you can't help. He's gone too far.
About twenty minutes before they were due to go on stage, the whole crew was gathering for a team talk. It was everyone. Stylists, security, fuck you're certain even the guys that print the lanyards were there.
But one person that wasn't, was you.
He was holding the door open for one of the makeup artists to go into the large shared dressing room. You knew he was going to do something, he'd seen you walking towards him. You know he had because he'd made a point of checking out the makeup artist's ass and then directly looked at you with a smarmy smile.
You braced yourself for the door closing on you or him sticking out his foot to trip you up. But he took it a step further, a step too far.
“Where are you going?" Seungcheol blocks off the doorway as he leans on it.
"To the team meeting,” you grumble, rolling your eyes. Surely it's fucking obvious where you're going.
"Why?”
"Because it's a whole team meeting. Move out of the way please.” Adding the please is done begrudgingly but he is still a member of the band and so you can't just tell him to fuck off and kick him in the balls how you'd like to.
"But you're not part of the team.”
"What?” You frown, "Move please, I don't want to be late.”
"You can't be late for something you're not invited to. You told me yourself, you work for Woozi. Everyone in here is part of team Shadow,” he declares like it's obvious, "guess you're not part of any team.” He sighs.
Embarrassment creeps up your spine. You're certain Woozi would be expecting you to be there but short of pushing past him and making a scene, you're not entirely sure how to get round this.
“You've had your joke," you mumble, “come on move, we'll be late."
“I will be late, you mean. You're probably early to whatever plans you have for the evening. There's probably some private moment going on that you can shoe horn your way into and make ten times worse.”
You stare at him. Both of you almost challenging the other to look away but the difference? He holds all the cards and he knows it. You don't win in this situation. If you tell him to fuck off, he'll say you've been unprofessional and no doubt tell Woozi and you lose the best job you've ever had. Or you don't tell him to fuck off and you have to walk away in embarrassment.
"Is Woozi in there?”
"I mean yeah, we're all one big family really.” He shrugs, “It'd be weird if he wasn't there.” He insisted, his smirk only getting more annoying.
Part of you wants to punch him, to put this arrogant rock star in his place. But there's a weird feeling in your chest too, that you can't quite figure out what it means.
He doesn't stop looking at you, his smirk never faltering. But you just pull your sweater over your hands and avert your eyes, pretending to look past him and like this isn't making you want to cry.
“Bye then." You say quietly, sending him a false smile but still not looking him in the eye.
You wander down the corridor to the side of the stage and hope you find something there that'll occupy you when the “one big family" all turn up to start the concert. At least then if Woozi asks where you were you can say you were caught up with something.
Seungcheol watches you leave pretty pleased that he's got the upper hand. He'd been enjoying the little back and forth you guys had been having the past few days. And if he's honest, he wants to get you back for the other morning. You were fucking annoying and ever since he's had this need to get a rise out of you.
But as he watches you walk off, he gets a weird feeling in his chest that unsettles him. His smirk leaves and his eyebrows inadvertently knit together. He got this feeling when you called him disgusting too, though he ignored it then and tried to put it down to his hangover. Add that to the leaping feeling he had in his stomach when something the driver said made you laugh, he's starting to get a little worried about all these unknown feelings he's having.
This must be what hatred feels like. The sound of your laugh must physically cause him pain and the feelings in his chest are just pure annoyance when you're around. Yeah. That’ll be it. It's the only logical explanation.
“You know we don't object to workplace relationships,” You jump a little, you hadn't realised Jeonghan was so close to you.
"What do you mean?” You avert your eyes to him but quickly refocus on the band.
"You and Cheol, you keep staring at each other and I think even Woozi's realised there's a tension there and he's normally so lost in schedules and shit, he doesn't realise anything.”
"I don't stare.” You snap.
"Whatever you say,” Jeonghan smirks, "I know he's got a reputation but he's one of the kindest guys you'll ever meet under all that swagger.”
You wonder how much Seungcheol pays people to lie for him. You've got proof he's not a kind person, and you do not believe that he doesn't live up to that "reputation” Jeonghan is referring to. Both you and Sora can attest to that.
"There's no tension. I'm just trying to do my job.”
"Okie dokie.” Jeonghan smiles though you can tell he’s not convinced at all. "Oh! And we missed you at the staff meeting! You don't have to work so hard!.”
You watch as Jeonghan glides away. It relieves a few of the worries you'd had about not being missed at the meeting, at least there seems to be people who are genuinely looking out for you. But it just makes you more pissed at the drummer who adverts his eyes the second you look back over to him.
This can't all be because of that first day. He's taken an instant dislike to you and, to be honest, you feel exactly the same way.
One thing is for sure. You won't let him win.
Bangkok
And so for the next three weeks of the Asia leg of the tour, a battle ensues. You both happen to be at breakfast at the same time? You’re making sure that you take the last of the muesli he likes. He notices that you’re carrying a heavy bag? He’ll purposefully pick out another member of staff who is also carrying something and make a grand gesture of asking if they need help, right in front of your face.
Everyone knew what was going on. It was like the both of you couldn’t hear a conversation going on with the other without passive aggressively butting in.
“Do you want to try this hat for the magazine cover?”
“Are you sure that would fit over his enormously oversized head?” You’d chide as the room erupted in laughter and Seungcheol glared at you through the mirror.
Or.
“______ seriously you’ve got me so organised I’m running out of things to worry about.” Woozi beamed at you.
“Pretty easy to be so anal about shit when she’s got a permanent stick up her ass.”
It was just an everyday part of your life now. Wake up, make sure Woozi has everything he needs and then go out of your way to piss off Seungcheol. His schedule seemed pretty much the same except where you organised Woozi, he played for thousands of fans and partied until the early hours.
And it’s his partying, or rather the whole group partying, which is putting you in a situation you didn’t really want to be in right now.
Seungcheol had used your dislike for partying when he was trying his best to embarrass you in front of everyone. The trouble for him was that you didn’t care what he thought about you in that respect. You’d never been one for huge crowds of drunk people, it just wasn’t for you. You loved socialising, you loved going out with friends for drinks or good food but being in a confined space with a bunch of sweaty drunk people? You’d really rather sit in a bath of ice.
But this was the last night of the Asia tour. It was a big deal and even though you’d told Seungcheol to get fucked when he’d called you boring for not going, it turned out you weren’t going to get away with it so easily. Woozi made you promise you’d join them all for one drink at least and your best friend at home had made you promise you’d put yourself out there more just before you started this job. You didn’t need to make sure everything is ready for the next day or spend your time writing in your diary, or any of the other one hundred things you could think of doing to avoid situations you felt uncomfortable in. You just needed to be brave enough to actually go.
So with Woozi’s promise that you only had to stay for one drink and your best friend’s words whirring round your mind, you find yourself standing in front of the mirror in your room, not knowing whether you’re even dressed right. You know you can’t wear your usual sweaters or jeans but you didn’t want to seem too over dressed, too out of your comfort zone.
You’d gone with a leather mini skirt which you didn’t even realise you’d packed, your good old bestie still looking out for you even when she’s not with you, and a tank top that felt too tight but you could work with it and it made your tits look great even if you do say so yourself. You hadn’t brought heels so your trusty doc martens would have to do. It isn’t something you’d wear to a club you suppose but drinking with a rock band? It works. Sort of. You think?
“Fuck this get a grip _____. No one will even notice you’re there, one drink and then you can come back and pack.” You mumble to yourself as you fix your eyeliner in the mirror. “You’ve got this.” You fake a smile to yourself before you take a deep breath, grab your phone and head to the rooftop bar of the hotel.
It wasn’t as bad as you thought, you’d had a drink with Dino’s girlfriend who has become a good friend in the month you’ve been on tour with them. And Woozi had made you join him in a dance but it felt very much like dancing with your dad and so you’d spent most of your time laughing with him whilst he showed you how to do the robot.
You didn’t see Seungcheol. You’re not even sure why you were thinking of him. He was probably with some woman by now already and he wouldn’t want to see you anyway. You tell yourself your eyes scan the room every three minutes because you want to prove a point to him. You want to show him that you’re not as boring as he says you are. But why should you even care what he thinks? It’s probably just because your competitiveness has peaked in this month-long battle with Seungcheol, you just want to show that you won this little challenge. It’s not even really about proving a point to him. It’s about winning.
You bid your goodbyes to Dino and his girlfriend as they run off giggling after informing you they’re going for a late night swim, and you head towards the elevator.
“Hold the door please!” You run towards the closing door as a hand stops it and you throw yourself in.
“Thank you,” you sigh before you realise who it is, “oh.”
“_____?” Seungcheol saying your name makes you feel weird but it’s probably irritation. That’s the only thing that would explain the goosebumps that’ve erupted all over your body.
Your eyes drift to the woman in his arm, one of her hands under his shirt, tickling his skin. You get the sudden urge to scratch this woman’s eyes out, a feeling of utter rage coming over you like a dark cloud but you bat it away. You don’t care who touches him.
His eyes drift over you, his eyebrows knitting together but he snaps back to himself and holds his girl a little closer.
“Does she work for you?”
“Nah, she works for Woozi. A professional busy body.”
You know he’s waiting for your reply but the sight of the woman still touching his skin has you mute. What the fuck is happening and why does it feel like those words he just uttered actually hurt? You’d been tearing shreds off each other for weeks and it hadn’t bothered you. The last time you’d truly felt upset by something he’d done was the staff meeting but you were over that. Now though it just felt like he was being mean for the sake of it and you were so confused by what you were feeling towards him and his “friend” that you can’t even muster a response.
“You came then?” He smirks when he doesn’t get a response.
“Oh you’ve been to the party? You didn’t feel like dressing up?” She says in the most sickly sweet way she can.
Fuck you feel like you’re in school, the resident school bully deciding it’s your turn to feel their nastiness.
You just glance at both of them and then look forward, willing the elevator to move quicker.
“It’s no wonder she’s going back to her room alone,” you hear her whisper to Seungcheol, although you’re fairly certain she intended you to hear it.
Sure you weren’t overly confident in your outfit but the longer the night went on, the more you felt happy in your own skin. Others at the party were dressed like you, you didn’t stand out. If anything it’s her that looks out of place, a sequin dress and sky high slingbacks making her look like a christmas tree. And yet her words are cutting as deep as a knife.
Your bottom lip threatens to wobble but you stay strong. You won’t break in front of either of them.
The elevator rings, your floor finally arriving and you rush out without sparing them another glance.
You don’t see how Seungcheol moves like he wants to say something to you or how once you’re out of the elevator he suddenly distances himself from the woman he was with, much to her confusion.
You just rush to your room, rub the makeup off your face in a shower that’s so hot it’s only a few degrees below actually burning your skin and spend an hour making sure you’ve packed everything you came with. Making sure the leather skirt is right at the bottom of the pile. Just the sight of it makes you want to melt away in a puddle of embarrassment.
You’ve so many feelings fighting for supremacy that you don’t know which to focus on most. Sure you’re embarrassed but the thing that’s annoying you is why you hated that woman before she’d even insulted you. You had every reason to loathe her now she’d made you feel like the ugliest runt in the litter but before that you wanted to end her. The second you saw her hands on Seungcheol’s skin you wanted something horrible to happen to her and you can’t explain why.
You don’t get much sleep after all that. Just toss and turn with her words ringing in your ears as images of her and Seungcheol laughing about how pathetic you are, as they fuck each other race through your mind.
And what’s even worse. Things are going to get a whole lot more uncomfortable.
Hua Hin- Thailand
“Ok what's wrong?"
All four members of Shadow take up a table and four seats on the coach taking them to the Thai resort they'll spend a few days at before the South American leg of the tour begins. It wasn't the whole crew, just the members, girlfriends and managers. And you. At everyone's insistence other than, of course, Seungcheol.
The four of them had been having a little song writing session as the coach would take four- five hours. But Seungcheol hadn't joined in with any of it, not even when they'd purposely rhymed the same word twice just to annoy him, knowing he hates repeating words when they can't think of a proper rhyming couplet.
“Nothing."
“She was that bad?"
“Who?"
“Whoever you took back to your room."
“Oh." He wriggles in his seat, “nothing happened. I asked her to leave, I wasn't in the mood."
His three friends stare at each other wide eyed.
“You weren't in the mood?" Dino clarifies.
“Are you not well?" Hoshi asks.
“I'm fine! Can't a man just not be in the mood?" His eyes flick up the bus but then back down at the wordless notebook.
They all turn to look where he just has, knowing looks on their faces when they face each other again. Because it's you. You're who Seungcheol has just glanced at unknowingly and it's you who's been the only woman they've ever seen get under Seungcheol's skin.
They've seen it happening right in front of their own eyes. How both of you proclaim to hate each other and yet you both search for each other in every room you go in. You both spend each day seeking each other out even if it is to be complete idiots.
"How do you know when you've gone too far?”
"What do you mean?”
"Like when banter becomes bullying?”
The three exchange looks and Dino kicks Mingyu under the table, silently telling him to take the lead.
“What makes you ask that?"
Seungcheol doesn't look up from the paper, instead he decides to just draw little flowers on the pages. But he needs to figure out what's going on, he can't keep feeling all these feelings every day.
“Last night," he sighs, “that girl, she was really mean to _____. Basically called her ugly."
“That's fucked up."
“But…..is it…..is it fucked up that I didn't stick up for her?"
“Yeah."
“Dude what the fuck!" Hoshi kicks Dino.
“What?! I'm just saying if you hear someone say that to anyone unprovoked then you should stick up for them. Unless it's some like seven foot dude with an axe."
“Why are you and _____ the way you are?"
“What?" Seungcheol’s eyes snap to Mingyu.
“She's kind, she's funny, she's a bit shy, sure but she's part of the team. Why are you two the way you are?"
“We're not like anything. Just normal."
“We all know that's not true Cheol. There's something about her. And you know it."
“I can't stand her."
“Cheol, you look for her in every room apart from when you're partying because you know she's not there."
“That's because I know she's going to pull some bullshit!" He shouts but lowers his voice when Woozi and Jeonghan turn around, luckily you have your headphones on and are deep in some game on your switch.
"You've been turning up early to soundcheck then you know you can speak to her or annoy her at least.”
"I've decided to be more professional,” he shrugs.
"You're drawing the exact flower she has on her necklace.”
All four of them look down at the piece of paper. Shit. It is the same flower that you have on a gold chain. You wear it every day, a small golden charm on the necklace, it was a gift from your parents when you graduated. Seungcheol knows that because he heard you tell Jeonghan when he asked about it, he remembers wanting to punch Jeonghan on the nose for daring to take an interest in you. He wanted to ask about it. Not Jeonghan.
"That's not……I'm not…. Fuck I don't know what to do! I feel weird whenever she's around and I spend most of my time counting down the hours until it's time to meet up with everyone because I want to see her. And taunting her is the only way I think she'll talk to me. Because someone like her isn't going to be interested in me! Fuck the first day we met was because she came to my room and saw exactly how I behave! And I feel like my heart is physically breaking whenever she laughs and jokes with someone else because I want to do that. I want to make her laugh. And she looked so fucking pretty last night but I didn't think she’d come to the party! And I didn't know that woman would be such a bitch to her! And she looked so fucking sad and I did nothing. I'm having all these feelings and I don't know what they are or how to deal with them! I don't even like partying anymore! You know, the other day all I could think about was how much I wanted to just sit with her and hold her and talk to her! I've never just wanted to sit and talk to a woman!”
He's gasping for breath by the time he's finished. All of them including Woozi and Jeonghan and Dino and Mingyu's girlfriends are looking at him in shock. Thankfully you're still blissfully unaware of the mini breakdown Seungcheol has just had at the back of the coach.
"You need to tell her.” Dino's girlfriend chimes in kindly. "Not telling her will just make a huge mess.” She looks knowingly at Dino who just sends everyone an embarrassed smile. Everyone knows the chaos that went on between them on the last tour.
"It's gone too far. Even if it hadn't, it definitely has now. She looked so fucking sad when she left the elevator last night. She isn't going to trust my intentions is she?!”
"She will.” Mingyu nods.
"Would you?” Seungcheol asks their girlfriends who are on the table next to them.
"Well,” they look at each other. "Probably not? But!” Mingyu's girlfriend rushes to say, "I think you need to show her who you really are. Don't just go in with some big confession. She needs to know the real you, the one we all know. Not this idiot who knocked a drink all over her."
“She did that to me first!"
“Grow up." She deadpans as Mingyu giggles behind him.
“How do I show her! I doubt she'll even talk to me."
"You'll think of something.”
"Yeah I doubt it," Seungcheol pouts, slamming his pen on the notebook. “I even downloaded a list of the best pickup lines last week when I'd convinced myself to do something. But I'm not gonna be one of those sad acts that creep up on women at bars with some awful line to be laughed at."
“We're here!" Your voice breaks through the tension as you excitedly look through the windscreen and throw your headphones off your head.
“Fucking great." Seungcheol grabs his bag and storms up the coach.
“He’ll sort this out, won't he?"
“I hope so. They’d make a cute couple and I'm never wrong, am I baby?" Mingyu's girlfriend taps his chest to back her up.
“Never. She clocked you two the day you met." He smiles at Dino.
“We weren't obvious!"
“Whatever you say dude."
They all hurl themselves off the coach, not even noticing just how beautiful the resort is that Jeonghan found because they're all so lost in watching the way you try to avoid Seungcheol and how he can't seem to keep his eyes off you. That is apart from Mingyu who is happily accepting the snacks being offered by the resort staff as they all enter the main building.
“_____! We thought you'd gotten lost!"
You smile at them as you sit down but in reality you're questioning everything. You didn't plan for this break and yes you've got summer clothes with you and bikinis, but you didn't really plan to be at a five star Thai resort. And after last night your usually high confidence was wavering.
"I love your dress,” Mingyu's girlfriend says to you quietly as you sit between her and, sadly, Seungcheol, at the long ornately decorated table that's been set up by the golden beach.
"Thank you. I didn't know we'd be coming somewhere like this. I think I'll need to check out the stores in the village tomorrow.”
"Let me know when you go! We could go, all the girls together.”
"I'd like that,” you smile. And for the first time today, it's a genuine one.
She goes back to talking to Woozi about something and everyone else seems to be preoccupied too, so that just leaves you and Seungcheol. You fiddle with your thumbs before your eyes land on the wine bottle. But before you can even reach for it, Seungcheol grabs it. Does he have to do this? Does he have to carry it on even…..now…. What?
“Why have you done that?"
“You didn't have a drink."
“But I could pour one for myself."
“Well I needed a top up so I thought I'd do yours too."
“Why?"
“Why not?"
You don't answer, just watch him and wait for him to take a sip of his wine.
“What are you looking at?"
“I want to see you drink it first. Make sure it's not poisoned or some shit."
“You know what?" He turns to you like he's going to fire something back, “n-never mind." He takes a sip of his wine and goes back to staring into the distance.
Well. That's new. Very new. Perhaps he's worn out from all the fucking last night and can't be bothered with you anymore. But the idea of him not even bothering with your usual banter leaves you feeling hollow.
The meal passes in a cloud of laughter but you can't help feeling weird. Seungcheol doesn't say any shitty comments, he doesn't purposefully knock your food off the table, it's all very…..cordial? It's unsettling if anything.
“Enjoy your bats!" Woozi laughs as he waves you off.
“You can still always come with me? It's famous y’know!"
“Sure it is," he beams at you, “I think I'll spend the whole evening by the pool."
“Fair enough," you giggle as you walk back to your room.
The second you found out where you were going, you were online looking for things to do. You loved making sure you'd seen the sights, the pool is great and everything but what if you never come here again? Every pool more or less looks the same, the sights don't.
And it would work two fold, if they all broke off into couples or little groups, you had things to do so you wouldn't feel lonely.
Amazingly, none of them felt like coming to see the bats of Na Yang cave leave for hunting this evening. But according to Trip Adviser it was well worth seeing. Each night thousands of bats leave the cave and even though you don't like bats in the slightest, it sounds like quite the sight to behold.
You quickly change into shorts, t-shirt and sneakers, grab your camera that you knew would come in handy at some point and rush off to the main hotel building, where apparently a mini bus will pick you up to take you to the bats.
Just as you're settling into your seat, the mini bus being a lot more packed than you thought it would be, the driver stops.
“Sorry! Sorry! Thanks for waiting!"
"No problem,” the driver says kindly.
What the fuck is he doing here? You presumed he'd be heading out to find some bar or club later tonight. Does he want to upset you that much that he's willing to even ruin your excursion?
"There's one seat left, you're lucky!”
Well. That's where the driver is wrong. There's nothing lucky about the last seat available being next to you. You try not to look at his thighs as he sits down next to you. You try not to look at him at all. But his thighs touch yours on the crowded mini bus and you feel like you've been electrocuted.
"Do you like bats?” He says after about twenty minutes of silence.
"Not really.”
"Then why are you going?” He frowns.
“Because it's a once in a lifetime thing and you don't know if you'll ever come back here again."
He just nods and you go back to sitting in silence, though neither of you move your thighs away from each other.
“Just a few more minutes!”
Thank god for that. The almost 45 minute drive had felt like a decade of your life had been taken away from you.
“So is it like a couple of thousand bats?"
“You don't know?"
“No," he looks confused, “why should I know?"
“Well surely this is something you wanted to see. If not, why are you here? I doubt there's many suitors at a bat cave."
“Suitors," he grins, “damn you're right grandma, there probably isn't."
You fight off a smile. This is just him being his usual annoying self, he was bound to stumble on a funny comeback eventually.
“There's two million bats." You shew him off the bus now you've finally parked up.
“TWO MILLION?!" He spins round and bangs into you, he's so close to you that you can smell his minty breath. He brushed his teeth for the bats? "I-I mean I knew that. It's just when you actually hear it that it shocks you all over again.”
"Ok?” You say slowly.
Neither of you move. Has he always had such pretty eyes? You knew he had pretty lips, you'd thought about his pretty lips a lot. They usually came up as a suggestion after you'd searched for his big, strong, meaty……fuck you need to stop thinking about his arms. It's a gateway drug to fantasising about him like you used to before you knew he was a giant dickhead.
“Come on lover birds! The bats won't wait for romance!"
You both jump away from each other, both clearly embarrassed at what the driver has just said.
“The bats," you point and set off for the cave, following the other bat fanatics.
“Woah," Seungcheol says as he looks up at the mountain. "The caves at the top?”
"Yeah, they fly out each night. Why are you here if you don't know this?”
"I was talking to the girl at reception and she suggested it.”
"Oh.” Of course it's to do with a girl.
Seungcheol cringes to himself, he didn't mean that. He just panicked and needed a plausible reason for why he's suddenly turned up here. Truthfully he's only here because he heard you telling Woozi about it. He thought it'd be a way to start afresh, to show you he's not what you think he is. Or he doesn't want to be like that anymore at least. But he's already fucked it up.
“Not long now! It can look a bit daunting but it's such a sight to behold!"
You quickly get your camera ready with all the other tourists.
“Do you want me to take it?"
“Why?"
“Then you can see it with your own eyes?"
Why is he being so nice?
“O-ok. Thank you,” you take the camera strap off from over your head and hand him your camera, “it's just that button, I've already set it up before the mini bus came."
“Cool." He nods as his fingers graze yours.
“Yeah."
“Here they come everyone!!"
You both turn to face the cave just as the biggest swarm of something you've ever seen in your life leaves the cave. It's like a never ending line. You knew two million bats would be a lot but this is like something from another world. Like how the world looked before humans ruined it and animals could just do as they pleased.
"Oh my god,” you whisper to yourself as you watch the bats in awe.
Seungcheol isn't watching the bats. He doesn't give a fuck about the bats. He got the photo straight away and then a far better sight caught his eye. Your whole face lit up in wonder as you stared at the sky in astonishment. He doesn't even realise he's doing it, he just moves on autopilot and turns the camera to you. You're meant to savour the most beautiful views and in his opinion, the sight in front of him is one of the most stunning he's seen.
"So they'll hunt now until 6am tomorrow morning! Unless you've all brought your tents, I'll give you some time to explore the area and then we'll meet back at the bus? Say in twenty minutes?"
“Can I have that?"
“Oh!" Seungcheol hands you your camera, “sorry, didn't realise I still had it."
“Did you get the picture?"
He panics. He can't let you see the photo he's taken of you. Not whilst he's still here anyway.
“I did!"
“Great," you take his word for it and put the camera back down against your chest now the strap is back round your neck.
“What do we do now?"
“I was just going to grab a coffee from the stall and take in the view.” You start walking, presuming he'll want to do his own thing.
"Cool.” He follows you.
Why is he following you? Surely he doesn't want to spend time with you?
When he pays for your coffee before you can get your card out, you start to feel like something truly odd is going on. He hasn't said a bad word to you, other than the grandma comment, and he's being weirdly timid.
"They should have souvenirs." You grumble more to yourself than Seungcheol as you wait for everyone to get back to the minibus.
“Yeah you'd think they'd sell little bat toys."
“Are you making fun of me?" You'd been waiting for this, you knew he couldn't last this long without being an ass.
“No! My mom likes trinkets and shit, I like getting her something from everywhere we've been. It's normally just a magnet from the stadium or something. I don't really visit places when we have breaks.”
"I can imagine.” You know what he's implying. You know how he spends his time normally.
"I’m pleased we saw this. It's been cool.” You hate how your heart leaps when he says “we". He'd planned this because some girl told him to, he's probably only done it then he thinks he gets her as a reward. It's got nothing to do with you at all.
“Hey you could always have a copy of the picture if you'd like, get a frame or something from the market and put it in there. Like a homemade souvenir."
“I'd like that." His eyes find yours again and once again you can't look away. “She'd like it too." He smiles and you're certain your heart has fully stopped working.
He's never smiled at you. He's smirked, he's sent you his evil grin, but never the smile he normally reserves for everyone but you.
“No problem." You smile back, trying to look anywhere but at him then you don't start giggling.
You don't speak much on the way back to the hotel, he heads off to find Hoshi at the bar and you head back to your room.
Once you're washed and ready for bed, you make sure you transfer the photos from your camera. One trip to Greece where you didn't back it up once and lost everything, was enough to make sure you never made that mistake again.
Seungcheol only managed to take two photos but as long as there's one there, you can keep your promise to help him with the souvenir for his mom.
You check them both, the first one is amazing, exactly the right shot to show what an insane sight it was to witness. But the second one stops you in your tracks. He took this? He took this of you? The setting sun illuminates your face better than any highlighter ever has and the look on your face……well in the words of Keira Knightly, “I look quite pretty.".
Something about him taking that photo makes you almost giddy. But you shouldn't read into you, he's just taken it by mistake probably. You cannot let yourself think this means something. He's Seungcheol. He hates you. And you hate him.
"Does that pool have a massive floaty in it?”
“It's probably for kids." Woozi dismisses you.
“But do we know if it's for kids?"
“Why?" He smirks at you over his fruit.
It's just a few of you this morning. The two couples have gone on a day trip and you don't really have plans until the night market you want to check out later. And the huge inflatable assault course is looking more than appealing.
“I'm just asking." You shrug.
“They've got a climbing wall you know, that you can jump off into the pool." Seungcheol adds in.
“REALLY? I mean…….really?" You say a bit more quietly, your cheeks heating.
"We should go on them. Jeonghan booked out this whole resort so there's no kids here or anything.”
You didn't know that. That changes things a whole lot more. You won't have to swat children into the pool when they get in your way on the climbing wall.
"Do we really have to do that? It's meant to be relaxing?” Jeonghan sighs, fanning himself in the largest sunglasses you've ever seen.
"When else do you get a whole water bouncy castle for yourself?” Seungcheol adds in.
Fuck you wish he'd go and sit at another table.
It's not even because he's annoying for once.
You've never seen someone eat papaya the way he's doing. He's fucking devouring it and you've been trying your best to not just sit and watch. It's bordering on obscene as he licks and eats half a papaya in front of you all and you try your best to focus on the inflatables and not clenching your thighs together.
The rest of them don't seem to care but you can't help letting your mind wander. His tongue looks like it knows exactly what it's doing and the juice that trickles down his chin could only be improved if it was your juice dribbling down his chin.
"I thought you were coming to the spa with me?”
You drag your eyes away from Seungcheol eating out the papaya and will yourself to stop imagining how much you'd enjoy him eating you out.
“Jeonghan, we might not come here again. It's an empty resort with a fucking sick pool and shit. You go to the spa,"
Did he? He can't have just said that because that would insinuate that he actually listened to you when you said the bat cave was a once in a lifetime opportunity. That you should make the most of things whilst you're here.
“I'll come to the spa with you. They can act like children in the pool." Woozi pulls his newspaper down like a dad deciding his kids’ itineraries.
“Great!" Hoshi grins at you all.
“There's even this bubble pool apparently, I don't know what it does but there's a water slide with a trampoline in the pool." You excitedly tell Seungcheol, somehow not remembering he's your sworn mortal enemy.
Hoshi, Jeonghan and Woozi share knowing looks when Seungcheol says how cool it sounds and for the first time, they see you having a normal conversation.
“I'm going to go get changed," you finish your orange juice and rush from the table, “I'll be back! Don't bounce without me!!"
“It's going well then?"
“What is?" Seungcheol frowns as he finishes his breakfast.
“That was almost pleasant," Woozi chimes.
“She's just excited about the water trampoline thing. I've told you, I've lost any chance I had.”
"Where did you go last night?” Jeonghan changes the subject.
"Oh…….nowhere,” Seungcheol dismisses them.
"He followed _____ to the bats. Grinning like a mad man when he found me in the bar and didn't even stare at the woman behind the bar's ass.”
“Fuck me." Woozi puts down his paper looking shocked.
“Shut up. I'm going to change."
He struts off, mentally deciding which of his swim shorts might make you forget all of his past behaviour and jump into his waiting arms.
"I'm going to be the best man when they get married.”
"Soonyoung. You've said that about all three of them. You can't be the best man for all three. You'll all need to rotate it."
“Whatever."
Ten minutes later and you're rushing to the pool, nothing but a baggy t-shirt covering your bikini clad body, your sandals in your hands and your hair tied up in a high pony tail. You didn't even have time to question whether it'd be awkward to be around Seungcheol, you just wanted to have fun, to forget any worries you had before today and take advantage of the insane surroundings you find yourself in.
You don't think twice, just rush to the pool, leave your phone on the pool chair, take your t-shirt off and do a pretty impressive, olympic level dive bomb into the pool.
Sure you're having a great time. But did you have any concern for Seungcheol's poor nerves? He hadn't even had a chance to make it to the pool and let you know he's there, before you did some sort of Baywatch shit and whipped your clothes off. He doesn't know whether to be endeared by how excited you are at the prospect of inflatable assault courses or rush off to the bathroom before you spot him, to sort out the slight situation that’s stirring in his pants.
“I'd sort that out dude before you speak to her." Soonyoung pats his shoulder as he struts towards the pool.
“I think you've just done that creeping up on people. Don't be fucking weird." He catches Soonyoung up.
“_____! You could've waited!" Soonyoung jokes.
“Sorry! Get it in Hoshi! The water is literally so perfect!" You paddle backwards and beam at them both.
“I've told you, call me Soonyoung."
“You've literally never said that to me." You giggle, making Seungcheol's heart flutter and he suddenly gets the urge to headbutt Soonyoung.
“Well I am now. Once you've been on a trampoline in a pool together, you're friends for life."
“Fair enough," you turn away and start swimming whilst you wait for them.
“Sorry."
“What for?" Seungcheol asks as he gets in the pool, opting for the steps instead of your dive bomb method.
“You looked like you wanted to slap me when she giggled. I promise to only make her miserable from now on."
“I think I've made that my job," Seungcheol watches as you check out the inflatable as you swim past it, “and it was a headbutt."
You can't remember when you last laughed so much. You've done the assault course five times, climbed the climbing wall and thrown yourself into the pool more times than you can count and the trampoline was a revelation.
"This isn't what I thought a bubble pool would be.”
"What were you expecting?”
"Well not one big bubble. I thought it'd be lots of little bubbles.” You look around with your hands on your hips as you stare at the water spraying out of the top of the large mountain you find yourself atop of.
“That's a jacuzzi." Seungcheol dead pans.
“Oh yeah," you chuckle. “Do we just throw ourselves off it?"
“Well we've thrown ourselves off everything else."
"Come on then,”
"Hey _____?” He asks but you've just bent your legs to throw yourself down the huge bubble and sort of wobble onto your ass. "Be careful!”
He grabs you but any worry he had disappears when you fall on him in a fit of laughter at the way you've nearly bounced down the bubble.
"L-lucky this is bouncy,” you giggle as you sit up between his legs, his arms still around you. "Oh! Sorry!”
You try to move back but he keeps you there.
"Wait. I wanted to say something to you if that's ok?"
“Er…..sure?" You glance at his hands on your waist and he pulls them away instantly.
“Ok so I don't know how to say this." He scratches his neck, looking more than a little nervous, “can we start again?"
“We've not bounced off the bubble yet, we can't do it again if we've not done it."
“Not the bubble," he frowns, “us. I-I mean can we drop whatever we had going on and start again? I'm not normally a complete asshole to people, I know I can be arrogant and shit but I'm not normally like this with staff or anyone in general. And…..I've really enjoyed spending time with you, I'd like to spend more time with you I think."
You feel like someones just burst the fucking bubble you're so shocked.
"But you hate me.”
"I don't hate you. I know you hate me but…..”
"I don't hate you.” You interrupt.
You both sit still for a while just gazing at each other, the water fountain at the top of the bubble landing just past you and making it seem like you two are in your own little bubble on top of the actual bubble.
"Soooo you think we could start again?”
You wait an appropriate amount of time because you don't want to come off as desperate and say it straight away. But you'd be lying if you said you're not absolutely thrilled by this little development. This whole day has been insanely fun and you've spent the entire time with Seungcheol, joking and talking about water parks you'd been to as kids. It felt natural, you seemed to have so much in common that you didn't realise and you'd barely even had the chance to drool over his abs and back because everything was so exciting.
"I think so.” You nod, smiling from ear to ear but trying to keep it cool.
"I'm sorry for how I acted.”
"No I'm sorry, I was no better,”
"Yeah but….”
"Seungcheol,” you saying his name shuts him up straight away, "we said we'd start again. Let's just agree we're sorry and move on.”
"You're sure?"
“Mm-mm," you hum.
“Come on, Soonyoung will be wondering…..wait where is Soonyoung?"
“I haven't seen him since the third time we did the assault course," you look out onto the nearby pool that is adjacent to your huge bubble. “Wait," you snort, “he's asleep on that pool chair."
“Thank fuck we've not actually lost him, I didn't even realise he'd gone.”
"Me neither,"
You're drawn to his eyes again, both of you perched on the bubble, you still sitting between his legs and the warm afternoon sun shining down on you.
"Did you say at breakfast you were going to the night market?” Seungcheol asks when a bang in the distance breaks the moment yet amazingly doesn't wake Soonyoung.
He stands up and then helps you up. Although you'd very much like to stay between his legs for the rest of the day in all honesty.
"Yeah, they have all sorts of local food vendors and things apparently and all of the seafood you can imagine. Mingyu said they were going and he knew I wanted to go too, so we're all going together. You should come.”
Shit. Is that too forward? He said he wanted to start again, he didn't say he wanted to spend this whole break with you. Which so far is what's happened.
"I love seafood.”
"Is that a yes?” You squint at him, trying not to smile.
"Yeah, I'd like to go with you….I-I mean with you all,"
“Great," you smile, “now. Are we ready to bounce?"
“Well I'm not sure, do you bounce down it in little bounces or one big bounce?" You both stare down the huge bubbly lump as water lands on your heads.
“I don't really know bubble pool etiquette. Let's just jump and see what happens?" You hold your hand out for his.
He stares for a second and then takes your hand, your fingers intertwined and both of your hearts hammering in your throats.
“Ready?"
“Absolutely." He squeezes your hand.
“You look nice."
You glance behind you, presuming Seungcheol is talking to someone else.
“Me?" You point to yourself, you're just in a little sundress and Birkenstocks.
“Who else would I be talking to, I'm walking with you."
“You could've been talking to Mingyu," you shrug.
“I told him he looked nice before we left the resort."
“He always struck me as needy." You joke, enjoying that smile again you hadn't really seen before yesterday.
You're all walking to the night market, it isn't a particularly long walk and it seemed pointless to get a taxi. As you're with the two couples, you've ended up walking with Seungcheol at the back of the group.
"I’m sorry about what that girl said to you.”
Your body tenses as you stop walking.
"What?”
"I'm sorry about what she said to you. I should've said something in the elevator, it was cruel and entirely uncalled for. I think you looked really good, better than good, sex….. really great!”
"You don't have to apologise for your one night stands.” You start walking, not really wanting to talk about one of his many women.
"I didn't sleep with her!”
You all stop walking now, you're certain he didn't mean to say it that loud but to their credit, the others all keep walking and ignore what they just heard.
“You didn't?"
“No. I told her to leave before we got out of the elevator."
Something about that makes you hope a little more than you had been doing. You can't be certain he didn't sleep with her because of you but it certainly seems that way.
"Thanks for telling me? I guess,"
“I just wanted you to know, not that you should care if I think you look good. But you were upset and I wanted you to know,"
“Thank you," you walk a little closer, your arms occasionally brushing as you navigate the tiny streets to the night market.
The night market, when you get to it, is packed. Somehow you'd manage to forget you're with the world's biggest rock band but now every so often, people do a double take. To their credit they keep their distance and leave you all to enjoy yourselves but more than once you see women checking Seungcheol out. They're probably looking at the Dino and Mingyu too but you couldn't give a fuck about that.
Every one of these women is the enemy. Every one of them could end between the legs you were between a couple of hours ago. Fuck what the hell is wrong with you? He asked to start fresh and not take chunks out of each other, that's it, nothing more. You don't have a claim over him.
“What do you want to try first?"
“Oh well….."
“SHRIMP!" Mingyu marches off.
“What happened to democracy?" His girlfriend watches him disappear.
“I could eat shrimp."
“Me too!"
“Cheol you don't like…..”
"I love shrimp! Come on before he eats it all.”
You wander off after him, feeling a thrill when you note he's waited for you before he followed Mingyu. He didn't wait for the others, just you. Jesus get a grip woman!
"He's so embarrassing when he's down bad.” Dino laughs.
"What would you class as down bad Chan? Stealing hotel room service carts?” Mingyu's girlfriend snickers as she walks off.
"I didn't steal them!” He corrects her.
"They know you didn't baby,” his girlfriend soothes, "but you did pay someone so you could use it, so it is possibly worse.”
"It worked didn't it!”
"And sadly I think that makes me as weird as you.”
"Oh my god, that's insane,” you stare at the dish in front of you.
"It's good right! We had it last time we were in Thailand,”
You're sharing mango sticky rice with Seungcheol having stuffed your face with so much seafood you're surprised you could then fit in the massaman curry or the pad kra pao.
"I can't believe they're sold out of rice balls, they're like sweet they're so fucking good.”
You've had a drink and you're so full of food that all you've really focused on in that sentence are sweet and balls. Fuck what you wouldn't give to suck on…….
“______?" You snap your eyes to him, “did you want to try the mangosteen?"
"Oh! No, I think I'll stick with my sticky balls…..I-I mean your sticky balls…..I MEAN the mango sticky rice.”
You don't look at him, just stick your spoon in the rice and shove a load in your mouth, hoping he'll forget your little slip up.
"_____, there's some stalls over there and these boring fucks don't want to come with me. Will you?”
"Fucking rude,”
"Don't be brat Mingyu.” His girlfriend reprimands him.
His ears go pink but you're certain Mingyu likes being told off, he keeps going out of his way to piss her off like he's banking on something when they get back to the resort.
“I'll come with you!" You smile, you did want to check out the souvenirs and local crafts.
“I knew you wouldn't let me down."
You both walk through the stalls taking in all the handmade crafts and little sweet treats but there's one specific thing you're looking for. You talk each other into buying things that remind you of the trip and out of shit you'd never use. Giggle about little things the guys have done and joke that Chan’s girlfriend will be going insane stuck with the three of them. And that's when you spot it, what you've been looking for, whilst you're in a huge queue for a necklace for Mingyu.
“Hey I'll be back in a sec, I just want to buy something."
“Sure, it's not like I'm moving very fast,"
“How much for the photo frame?" You ask the old lady on the stall that caught your eye.
"2000.”
Shit. You know that's not really that much, they just use large numbers in baht but it is still a little more than you were expecting.
“1800?"
“2100." You frown at the woman. What a crafty business woman you've stumbled on.
“1900?"
“2000."
Well. You've got her down from 2100 you suppose.
“Deal."
She doesn't offer to wrap it, just shoves the simple bamboo frame in a plastic bag which you're certain has been used one hundred times already and launches it at you.
“Thanks then." You glare at her.
You stop in your tracks as you turn round to head back to the queue. That same feeling of wanting to scratch someone's eyes out rearing its ugly head because it's him. Seungcheol. With a woman in his arms just by the table you were all just sitting at.
Why did you think it meant something more than just not being awful to each other? Of course he doesn't like you, he just told you that you looked nice because he felt bad about the other night. He doesn't want you, he doesn't think about you that way, you can tell that much by the way his hands are on the woman's waist, much like they were on yours earlier.
Embarrassment floods you again, a feeling pretty similar to how you felt in the elevator but this time it's entirely your own fault. You're the idiot that got your hopes up. You're the idiot that had started to wonder if there was something there. You're the idiot who more or less told him you wanted to suck his balls. Christ you want the ground to swallow you up. He must be regretting ever offering to call a truce. He’ll probably have Woozi fire you for sexual harassment.
You can't face him. You won't.
“I'm going to head back," you rush once you're back at the queue.
“Why? Is everything ok?"
“Yeah, just feeling a bit sick. A few too many shrimp I think, or too much spicy food."
“I'll get one of the guys to walk you back! Just let me get this necklace."
“No, it's fine. Seriously, it's totally ok. I'm just going to get a taxi and head to bed."
“Are you sure?" She asks, nothing but concern in her voice.
“Yeah, probably shouldn't have done all that jumping off water bubbles before all that food!" You joke as you walk off, though it's entirely fake.
"Message me when you're back at the hotel!” She calls after you but you just give her a thumbs up and rush to find a taxi.
Maybe you could book a flight and be gone by the morning. Anything is better than dealing with the horrifying amount of feelings currently weighing you down.
Seungcheol is pissed. In every sense of the world.
You left. You just upped and left and didn't even bother saying goodbye. He believed the whole "she's not feeling well and she's just going to bed” bullshit when he was only six beers into the evening. But now he's considerably past that and he doesn't believe a single word of it. You'd come and tell everyone surely, you wouldn't just leave.
He wanted to woo you. He wanted to make sure you knew he was sorry. He wanted to tell you that he loved you more than anything and everything in this world.
Well.
Maybe not that last one but he definitely does like you. He was sure of that on the big bubble. The fact he only looked at your tits bouncing on the bubble once only proved that point further. He's down bad and you've just sauntered off into the sunset with his heart in your evil hold.
So he's decided he's going to tell you. Just as soon as he gets back to his room and throws up. He's going to put you in your place and tell you just what you're missing out on. He's Choi Seungcheol for fucks sake, women throw their panties at him at every concert. He won't be ignored by a woman who’s lured him in with her bouncing bubble and then dropped him like he was shit on her shoe.
He'd hammered on Woozi's door, demanding he give Seungcheol your number. Woozi didn't question it, he doesn't want to get involved in whatever the hell is happening and the sooner he could get back to bed, the better.
So Seungcheol lies on his bed, his phone to his ear and ready to give you a piece of his mind.
You don't answer though.
Who doesn't answer the phone at 4am?! He could be dying. He could be already dead. Fuck, you really don't care about him at all do you?
He hears the bleep ready to leave a message and suddenly he's lost all concept of what to say.
“Hello? ______ it's me. It's Cheol. I mean Seungcheol. It's me, Choi Seungcheol of the band Shadow," this isn't fucking MTV, he cringes to himself, “I want a word with you young lady!!" Well now he just sounds like his dad.
He hangs up. Starts anew on the beep.
“Hello ______, it's me Seungcheol. You've…….you've…….b-broken my heart,” he sobs.
And sobs. And sobs. Until eventually the phone falls from his hand and he somehow manages to hang up.
Twenty minutes later and he's pissed again.
He dials your number and waits for the beep.
“You've got some nerve, you know that _____. You lure men in and then break their hearts! It's wicked! You harlot! You floosy! You crone! You….you……I'm gonna be sick again.” He hangs up and runs to the bathroom.
Right, he stretches his neck and gears up to call again.
He hears the beep and it's like his world stops on its axis.
“I think I really liked you _____. Or like you. I don't know. You barged your way into my room that day and made a fool of me and ever since I've needed all of your attention," he burps down the phone, the beer still very much making itself known, “I know I'm a man whore. I know I'm arrogant. But I love my mom y’know? I love my parents. And I love my friends. And I give money to baby elephants, they need our help _____ and I'm doing my best for them I swear. I will save every last baby elephant if I can! They can all come stay at my place!"
He holds back another sob at the thought of the tiny baby elephants.
“But I can be better. That skirt looked so good on you and that elephant. What? No. Not the elephant, that woman had no right saying what she did. Such a fucking nice little leather skirt, I could really just……” his voice trails off as he thinks about how pretty the skirt would look around your waist with the added feature of his head between your thighs.
"But you don't like me. Not how I like you. I've been too mean. But in my defense,” he leans to the side, "argh! Sorry! Nearly fell off the bed. In my defense you were too. You called me disgusting and my tummy felt all weird. Feels weird now to be honest…..”
He hangs up again and rushes off to be sick.
Comes back and waits for the beep.
"It's me again. Seungcheol. You know how I know I like you? I don't even like shrimp," he burps again and grimaces at the idea of eating shrimp. “And some girl fell on me earlier and I didn't even want to fuck her. Just made sure she was ok and sent her on her way. I don't think she really fell," he whispers down the phone, like he's telling you a secret, “I think she wanted me. But I just want you. But I can't have you. And I respect that. So this is goodbye. Please try not to cry. But together we could fly?" He knits his brows together, is that a song or does he just rhyme when he's sad? “Bye then."
He's ready to call it a night but then why should he? If you're saying no he's going to make damn sure he's done everything he can. He pulls up his notes app and dials your number again.
"It's me.” He says sternly. "I did research, you know?! That's how desperate I've been this past few weeks. Now these are the best the internet has to offer, so if you still say no after all these, it's you that's the problem.”
He coughs to clear his throat, holding his phone like a Shakespearean actor about to make his debut at The Globe, and starts reading.
"Are you a parking ticket? Because you've got fine written allllll over you. Errrrr oh! Somebody calls the cops! Because it HAS GOT to be illegal to look that good," he's silent whilst he thinks about what he's just said. “That's what I should've said to her. Then you wouldn't have decided to hate me more than anyone in this world."
He hangs up the phone and sobs again, remembering how sad you looked as you left the elevator.
He dials and waits for the beep.
“I'm back, sorry I got a little sad because the girl I Iike left the elevator looking like a sad puppy. Back to my list," he gets himself comfortable with his notes app open, “have you ever been in a car accident? Because I'd like to rear end you!" He throws his head back laughing, “I like that one. It'd work on me I think. But you could read me the obituary and it would work on me," he stares at the wall before he remembers his mission, “ARE YOU A BIRD ENTHUSIAST? Because you look like you've seen a cock or two!”
He looks in horror at his phone before hangs up and throws it to the end of his bed.
"What have you done Seungcheol?!” He paces around the room with his head in his hands, "ring her back. Find a nice one and ring her back. She'll like that.”
He rushes for his phone and dials your number again. He knows just the thing to rectify this.
"_____?” He says softly. "I didn't mean that one. I've got one I do mean." He takes a deep breath, “they say you are what you eat and I’d like to be you?” He mumbles, "NO that isn't it. Wait! Just wait one second!” He thumbs the screen and finds the actual line he wanted, "Ok, I got it," he takes a deep breath, “I'm lost, can you give me directions to your heart?"
He sniffles, tears falling down his cheeks and silently hangs up the phone. He won't be able to sleep, he knows he won't. So he opts for a shower and makes himself a coffee to sober up a bit.
What a fucking mess. He just hopes you don't quit because of him. Everyone loves you, Woozi would be lost without you and, even if he can't have you, he can't not see you. That would ruin him.
You woke up a little before six, not that you'd really been asleep that long. When you got back to your room you tried your best but sleep just wouldn't come.
The sun was bright and the blue skies looked more than inviting as you reached over to check your phone. You didn't think much of the amount of messages. There was a time difference and you were always getting calls from different people for Woozi. Though he'd told you to leave getting back to them until after your little break, unless it was really urgent.
None of the messages you've ever had before in your life though have ever sent you on the emotional rollercoaster that the ones this morning did.
You listened to them all. Three times in fact. Your smile growing each time you listened now you knew how they ended.
What you saw last night wasn't what you thought was happening. You just presumed it was because it's him, flirting with women is what he does.
And the pickup lines, though cheesy, boarding on offensive at times, only made your smile wider.
You needed to fix this, you needed to find him and one, check he doesn't have alcohol poisoning and two, tell him that you feel exactly the same way he does.
The man at the reception desk wasn't thrilled when ran to the desk at 6:15 and demanded use of their printer. You're fairly certain he only agreed because you scared him a little bit. But he let you and you managed to print out the picture of the bats. It wasn't the best quality paper, you'd have preferred a proper photo paper option but it was the best you could do at short notice.
So with the photo in the frame and the frame in a much nicer bag you'd managed to “borrow" from the giftshop when the man at reception wasn't looking, you headed to his room.
Yes, it's early, but if you don't do this now, you never will.
This is like history repeating itself. You knocking on his door and him blatantly ignoring you. Thankfully there's no noise you'd rather not hear this time. But he's still ignoring you.
Why did you think he'd answer? He's clearly pissed at you and he's clearly not been asleep for very long judging by the time on those messages. If anything, you've probably fucked him off more by hammering on his door.
You take a deep breath and turn around. He isn't going to talk to you. You just need to deal with that.
Deciding you need fresh air, you head to the beach. You hadn't been down there yet and by all accounts it was one of the most pristine golden beaches in the country.
As you walk down the path to the beach, shoulders you recognise come into view. He's here? He's not going to throw himself in the ocean surely? You can't have driven him to that frame of mind. You'll never get over it and you probably won't have to. By the time Shadow fans hear about it, you'll be skinned alive.
“Seungcheol?" You say quietly as you come to stand by him.
His head whips up to you and the sight of him wiping tears from his eyes breaks your heart.
“What are you doing here? Is something wrong? Why are you awake?"
“I could say the same to you." You smile softly, “it's barely been two hours since your phone calls."
“I haven't been to bed yet," he sniffs and looks back at the ocean, “just showered and came here. I needed to clear my head."
You just hum and follow his eyes to the ocean.
“Can I sit with you?"
“I can't really stop you." He shrugs, still looking at the gentle waves.
"You can tell me not to.”
You wait for a moment but he doesn't say anything and so you take that as you sign to sit next to him.
“I lied."
“What?" He looks at you confused.
“I lied." You sigh. “I didn't feel ill. Well, I sort of did. I'd just bought you something from one of the little stalls and I looked up and you had that girl in your arms. I just saw red, every woman I've ever seen you with has made me see red. Though it's only these past few days I've admitted that to myself.”
"But why?”
"Because I like you. And I thought you liked me, I thought this truce was your way of starting something with me. And so when I looked up and saw what I did, I just felt so stupid. And I'd had a drink and said that about the balls, I couldn't face you. Or her.”
"She fell……..”
"I know, I listened to the messages.” you stop him.
"All of them?” He winces.
"All of them.” You smile.
“I’ve liked you for weeks." He draws absent mindedly in the sand but seeing no reason to not be honest, “I just didn't know I did. This back and forth we had going on that first day, it became routine. I wanted your attention, I wanted to be around you all the time. But I've never felt like that. I've never felt like this. And so I thought I don't need to figure out my feelings as long as I can still be near you and we could still argue. My head has been so messed up, I've never had these feelings before. I haven't even fucked anyone since that time we met."
“You still don't know her name," you narrow your eyes at him.
“I do!! It's….well it's……..I don't actually remember her name because the only woman I care about is you.”
"Nice save,” you grin even though your heart is doing somersaults.
"Thanks,” he smiles sadly. "And then I decide fuck it, nothing is ever going to happen, and I pounched on the first poor woman I saw.”
"The one in the elevator?”
"Hm-mm,” his eyes darken, "and then I let her do what she did and I hated myself. I knew I'd gone too far, I knew I finally had to do something. And so I do and then….”
"And then I ruin it.” You finish his sentence.
"Well I was going to say the girl who pretended to fall.”
"It was me. We both know it.”
Silence descends, the sound of waves rippling onto the shore being the only thing that breaks it. It isn't tense or filled with hatred, it's a weirdly content silence.
"I got you something.”
He just looks at you, obviously not really knowing what to say.
"Well it's more for your mom.” You hand him the bag.
"Can I open it then? Or should I wait?”
"No, open it, please. There's a note in there too, but that's for you not your mom.”
He frowns a little, not really sure why you've put a note in when you're talking to him, but he opens it anyway.
The frame is first, his eyes softening when he pulls it out of the bag and sees that you've kept your promise on helping him with a souvenir for his mom.
"She'll love it,” he beams at the photo.
"I really liked the photo you took. I really liked both of the photos you took."
His bright eyes find yours and you're relieved to see that the tears that fall now aren't quite as sad as the ones that fell when you arrived.
“I read you should always take photos of the beautiful things, to remember them. So that's what I did."
Your whole heart feels like it might explode. You're not worried about feeling like an idiot anymore. You've made big enough idiots of yourselves. All you feel now is thankful that you decided to get some air, that you found him here and now you hear words like that coming from his perfect lips.
"There's a note in there too,”
Seungcheol takes it out and as his cheeks turn pink, the most glorious laugh you've ever heard echoes around the empty beach.
Seungcheol,
I was wondering if you had an extra heart? Mine was just stolen.
“That," he laughs, wiping his cheeks, “is far cheesier than any of mine."
“Maybe," you giggle, “but at least it's not offensive." You try to speak very seriously.
"I really didn't mean the cock or two one,”
"Oh but you did mean the one about rear ending and that you are what you eat?” You challenge.
"I mean, that depends.”
"On what?”
"On whether you'll be my girlfriend?” He says awkwardly, "I've never done it before. A relationship I mean and I can't promise I'll be great at it. But all I know is I want to be near you, I want to be the one who makes you smile. If you'll let me.”
You search his eyes, they're different from the ones that looked back at you when he first opened his hotel room door. Just as beautiful but now there's something more in them, an honesty that tells you he's telling the truth. And that he does care and he does want to try this with you.
“I don't use my best pickup lines on just anyone you know," you say as loftily as you can, “I only keep those for the men I want to be my boyfriend."
His whole face brightens, any little worries he had that you'd still say no evaporating on the spot.
“Can I kiss you?" He edges closer, looking at your lips.
“That depends."
“On what?" he frowns.
“Please tell me you brushed your teeth after you showered. For one of those messages you hadn't actually put the phone down properly until after you'd been sick. The breath must've been….."
“Hey," he takes your cheek in his hand and shuts you up, “I'm not an animal,"
“I was just checking," you mumble, transfixed by his lips and the way your cheek seems to fit perfectly in his hand.
“You're so annoying." He whispers, so close to your lips that you can taste his minty breath.
His lips touch yours for the first time in the softest kiss you've ever received. It's barely there and yet the weight of the meaning behind it fills your heart.
It's like that first touch was a test, to check you wanted this and didn't run away from him. Because he pulls back for a second, stares down at your lips and closes the space between you again. One hand on your waist and the other still cupping your cheek but this time it’s frantic. Like he wants to make sure that this kiss makes up for those weeks of fighting and trying to hurt each other.
He pushes you back onto the sand and takes your gasp in shock as the perfect opportunity to let his tongue dance with yours. His hand that was on your cheek now rests just beside your head on the sand, the big arms you admired for so long caging you in. You've wanted to feel them for so long, so you don't think twice. Your hands grip his biceps as the kiss turns sloppy. Both of you wanting to show the other his serious you, how much you both want this.
It's only when you moan at the feel of his hardening dick through his shorts that Seungcheol seems to snap out of his need to swallow all of your gasps.
“We should stop." He says softly, though doesn't pull away.
“Why? There's nobody here."
“I don't want to, you know, have sex. I want to do this properly, not that I really know what properly is. But I want to take you out, make sure you know I'm serious."
“I know you're serious," you point out, gazing up at him and moving his hair off his face, “but I get it. I don't want to have sex yet either. But I don't see any reason we can't carry on the kissing."
"Is that right?”
"Hm-mm. But could we do it somewhere else? I'm sure a tiny crab just crawled up my shorts.”
"Oh shit!” He helps you to your feet as you stomp around trying to excavate the crab before it reaches your ass.
"Get out, get out, get out!” You flap until eventually you see a tiny crab fall from your shorts. "Oh thank fuck for that!”
“Better?"
“Much. Imagine having to tell the guys your girlfriend's got crabs."
“Oh god," he groans as he pulls a cackling you towards him and holds you close, “that's a fucking terrible joke."
“Well you need to laugh! It's what boyfriends do!"
“Why do I feel like that's going to be said a lot to make me do things I don't want to do."
“Because it is," you kiss him, “and I do have something I want you to do."
“Oh yeah?" He smirks.
“Not that? Although we do need to talk about the way you ate out that papaya, it was like something off pornhub."
“Why are you watching pornhub?" He grins.
“I’m not, I only consume ethical pornogrpahy."
“You read Game of Thrones smut."
“I do n…how do you know that?!”
"I read it over your shoulder once.”
"What a pervert!”
"I'm not the one reading Stark smut!”
"Well that's only because I don't sleep with people who I don't even know the name of!”
"Are you slut shaming me?”
"Yes!”
"Well,” he huffs, "my own girlfriend,” your heart flutters at the word, "betraying me. Lucky I've only got eyes for one woman now.”
"Is she hot?”
"The hottest.” He smirks. "Come on, let's get breakfast. You can watch me eat papaya and tell me all the dirty things you want me to do to it.” He grins as he pulls you along, not forgetting the bag with his mom's photo and the note he'll treasure forever.
"What did you want me to do then?”
"That bag,” you walk hand in hand off the beach and back towards the outside tables of the restaurant, "I technically stole it?”
He stops and looks at you in horror.
"It wasn't my fault! The old lady, who by the way is a terrifyingly good business woman, put it in a bag which I'm certain was first used in the eighties! And the shop wasn't technically open and I couldn’t not put it in a bag. So I stole it? Well, I borrowed it. If I give you the money, could you give it to them please?"
“It's one bag. It barely costs anything. Just leave it."
“No! Please! I'll do whatever you want.”
"Whatever I want?” He quirks his brow at you and you feel your heart and pussy tingle.
"Within reason.”
"I'll do it,” you both set off walking again, "so long as you wear that leather skirt again on our first date.”
"Deal.” You grin, kissing his cheek and happily gliding towards the hotel.
"I've got plans for that leather skirt.”
"I know you do. You didn't say it in your head about the added feature you'd like to make, you said it out loud. I heard it all. Lucky for you, I've thought a lot about where I'd like your head.”
He drops your hands and watches open mouthed as you keep walking towards the hotel, making an extra effort to sway your hips.
“Well come on then! I thought you'd promised me a show!"
“Fucking hell." He whispers, almost in awe.
“I think they're actually being more competitive now." Soonyoung complains as he looks over his sunglasses.
“You'd think they'd be nicer to each other, ______ just nearly took him out with that inflatable ball."
They're all watching in horror as you and Seungcheol take on the inflatable assault course again in the pool.
“I don't think you'll need to worry about being the best man at the wedding Soonyoung. They'll have killed each other before then," they all wince and sit back in their seats as they see you hit the deck and land on your ass because of Seungcheol.
"Please, can we all agree that we will never play board games or computer games with them.” Mingyu jumps as you dive into the pool with a shriek, "I think they'd both cause serious bodily harm if they lost monopoly.
“Imagine Mario Kart."
“Blood bath." Woozi and Jeonghan speak in unison, shaking their heads.
"OH FOR GOD'S SAKE! DO THEY HAVE TO KEEP DOING THAT?! MY EYES!”
"It's ok honey, I'll tell you when it's stopped,” Mingyu's girlfriend covers his eyes as she looks fondly at you and Seungcheol in the pool.
She's never wrong about these things, she told them all that.
And from the way you're currently so lost in each other, you're more or less dry humping in the pool as you steal each other's oxygen. She's still got that winning streak.
She knew one day someone would come along who would drag Seungcheol out of his predictable rock star ways. She just thanks the universe that it's you. Someone who's come to mean so much to all of them, but everything to Seungcheol.
PAIRING: Detective!Mingyu x f. Reader
SUMMARY: In a city where technology makes it possible to shed your body as easily as changing clothes, Mingyu has built his reputation hunting criminals who disappear behind new faces. So when you become the prime suspect in a brutal string of serial murders, he should have no trouble closing the case. Except… the more he investigates you, the less he’s convinced you’re guilty.
CHAPTER WC: 9,415
AU: Cyberpunk, Mystery, Crime
GENRE: Strangers to Lovers, some angst, smut
RATING: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.
WARNINGS: This contains vivid depiction of a dead body that has been intentionally disfigured/messed with by a serial killer - I will call this body horror simply because I want to play it on the safe side, mention of dead bodies in general, depiction of gore and blood (in the dead body scene), bodies being referenced to as ‘Skins’ because replacing the body is possible in this world, lots of commentary on wealth gap, lots of references to how humanity just doesn’t care about human livelihood the same way it did once, mentions of deep poverty, mentions of throw away Skins (bodies) being dumped in an alleyway, Mingyu is kind of emo, Mingyu is a cigarette smoker because what is a detective fic without cigarette smoking, lots of reference to a terrible justice system, reader is a stripper and there is a brief scene of her dancing on Mingyu, lots of random body modifications but nothing super weird or in detail, Mingyu in general just has a lot of general dislike for the world, explicit language, um.... I think that's it for this chapter?
A/N: This is for the Cyberpunk: Reload Collab hosted by @studiosvt and I could not be more excited to be bringing this to you! This is heavily inspired by Altered Carbon, Ghost in the Shell, and Blade Runner. This fic is a bit gritty because we all know me. I do not currently have a schedule set for the second chapter, but I am going to try to write the remaining three in total and then post them on a quick schedule basis to shorten the wait between them.
A/N 2: No beta we die like Jedi during order 66
BANNER CREDIT: Thank you to @joshujin for the amazing, beautiful banner!
MAIN M. LIST | ASK | CYBERPUNK: RELOAD M. LIST | TESSELLATION TWO
it has been said that something as small as the flutter of a butterfly’s wing can ultimately cause a typhoon halfway around the world. - chaos theory
"THE BUTTERFLY EFFECT IS A PRINCIPLE IN CHAOS THEORY THAT STATES THAT SMALL, SEEMINGLY INSIGNIFICANT CHANGES IN INITIAL CONDITIONS CAN TRIGGER MASSIVE, UNPREDICTABLE, AND VASTLY DIFFERENT OUTCOMES IN COMPLEX SYSTEMS-"
Mingyu knows what the butterfly effect is. In fact, the exact audio recording playing on loop throughout the penthouse apartment is the same audio that's been haunting his dreams and the moments of almost sleep he's been having at his desk while filling out piles and piles of paperwork at the station.
Now, the audio is playing again at the third crime scene in as many months, and he's had it.
"Turn that shit off," he barks, walking through the flickering holograph of the caution barrier. His legs disrupt the light only for a second, shadows bounding off the walls as he enters the main living area. "I'm tired of hearing about the fucking butterfly effect."
He was tired of researching it, too. Researching why a serial killer would leave the same recording playing at each crime scene over and over again, researching what the murders could possibly have to do with one another. So far, the first five victims have no connection to one another, nothing that clues Mingyu into what's going on beyond the same audio on loop. He doesn't expect this sixth victim will have any connection to their predecessors, but he has to try.
A grisly scene paints the penthouse. It's a nicer home than anything Mingyu will ever afford with floor-to-cieling windows that overlook the neon smear of the city. Rain blurs against the glass, turning the glow beyond to a muted opaque color that clashes with the bright caution banners and the lights of the investigative unit called to the scene.
The penthouse reeks of the metallic tang of blood and the faint tang of the chemicals the collection team uses to take samples all around the apartment. The victim lies splayed across the massive obsidian coffee table in the main entertainment area, arms and legs extended at unnatural angles. It's a male body, the torso filleted open from sternum to pelvis with surgical precision, the ribs cracked outward like grotesque wings.
Mingyu has seen five of these now. Each one has been more elaborate than the last. Each one leaves him with the same hollow frustrating gnawing at his gut.
"Lee," he barks at the lead forensic tech hovering nearby. "Anything different this time? Prints? Core signature? A confession, perhaps?"
Chan shakes his head, his rain-slicked jacket shedding beads of water onto the floor. "Same as the others. No prints, and the audio rig is the same ghost job as the last. The victim owns the building, his name is Harlan Voss. He got a new Skin a few weeks ago at Sync Corp. Nice model, nothing too extreme."
Mingyu crouches beside the table, his boots squelching in the thin layer of blood that has spread across the marble. Through the windows, the city pulses below, bright signs for body rental shops and upgrade clinics flashing in the downpour. Towering buildings disappear into the clouds, connected by old elevated trains that rattle in the distance.
Mingyu looks at the body. Chan had said the Skin upgrade was nothing too extreme, but in a world where people swap bodies regularly, the word extreme has lost most of its value, especially for people like Harlan Voss who are wealthy enough to transfer the Core implanted in their brain stem to a new body anytime they want.
It makes permanent death uncommon for people of this caliber. Mingyu tilts his head to the side, examining the back of Harlan's neck where his Core is. Like the others, it's damaged, which means Harlan is dead dead. No transferring his Core to a new body after the death of this one, no regeneration.
It unsettles something deep in Mingyu like satisfaction, and he pushes it down. He has no time to be disgusted by the Skin jumping of the wealthy while the people below scrap together money to upgrade their Skins to something new or broken just for the prestige of doing it.
Mingyu pushes up to his feet, joints popping and back aching. He groans - unlike the dead victim in front of him, he can't pay to have the tiny device buried in his neck to be transferred to some upgraded flashy skin. One would assume that as law enforcement, he'd get some kind of special discount or offers to enhance his speed, strength or something, but Mingyu has quickly learned that only the wealthy benefit from anything in this city.
He looks around the room slowly, eyes scanning for anything out of place. A broken glass on the bar counter. A half-empty bottle of cheap whiskey tipped over, mixing with the blood into a pink mess. Framed pictures on the walls show vacation spots in brighter cities, the kind most people only see in ads. One frame lies smashed on the floor, exposing basic wiring behind the fancy cover. Typical rich place that looks expensive on top but cheap underneath.
"Why butterflies?" Mingyu mutters to himself. "Chaos theory. One small change leads to big results. Like a butterfly flapping its wings and starting a storm somewhere else."
The killer isn't hiding the message. Each killing has happened once a month - not on a perfect timing, but approximate. Each scene is bigger - more wing shapes, more lights, the same audio. But the victims are never the same and thus far, there's no link between them. No shared friends, no common jobs, nothing on the basic records. A nobody found in a cheap rental unit. An escort pulled from a job. Nothing ties them together except this ritual.
But Mingyu doesn't know what this ritual is.
Frustration burns in his chest. Five months of this, nights bleeding into days at the station, staring at paper files and holoscreens while rain water leaks onto his desk. His own body feels worn out - aches deep in his joints, eyes burning constantly from lack of sleep. Unlike the dead man in front of him, Mingyu can't afford a new Skin on a detective's pay.
"Detective Kim?" Chan calls, voice unsure. Mingyu spins on his heel to find Chan crouched by the body, holding a small device in his hand near the core in the victim's neck. "I think the core is damaged but not dead."
"What?"
Mingyu strides over, his long legs making it easy. Chan crouches lower, the glasses on his face sliding down his sweaty nose. Mingyu leans over, tilting his head as Chan gently nudges the victim's head to turn it more. The Core is exposed to the elements and cut, like the attacker had been cutting it out to kill it, but as it catches the light, there's a small blip of cyan along the side, flickering as it tries to regain connectivity.
"Holy shit," Mingyu whispers. "If it's still alive, can you re-gen this guy?"
"Maybe, but it's potentially damaged enough that he would come back with high-level personality disorders or other cognitive issues. We might be able to repair enough to access memory or information, though." Chan hesitates. "Legal might get involved. If he's got family or others left behind, they might demand the Core be delivered to them to figure out what to do with it or refuse access to us."
Mingyu's hums, thoughtful. The possibility of interference is higher than he'd like to admit. In the few cases that Mingyu has dealt with the elite, their spouses or family left behind have always been nearly impossible in active investigations. He's since learned that those who sit in gilded glass towers have more to hide than the criminals crawling on the ground, and they'd rather a case go cold than unearth their secrets.
"Are we required to notify them?" Mingyu asks, glancing at Chan.
"Yes?"
"What if we only found it was discovered functional later in a proper autopsy."
Chan looks uncomfortable for a moment before nodding. "Yeah. That would make sense."
"Autopsies get delayed, right?" Chan sighs and Mingyu grins, slapping him on the back as he stands again. "Glad we understand each other, Lee. Take care of this while I walk around the area, yeah?"
"Yes, Detective."
Mingyu leaves the apartment and takes the stairs instead of the elevator, his knees protesting with each step. The exercise feels good though, so he jogs down the winding stairs, mind racing. By the time he reaches the ground level, he's sore and his heart is pounding, both reminders that he's human and that he's in his natural body, two things he's grown to be proud of.
The lobby is sleek, made up of polished obsidian and soft blue recessed lighting. Mingyu strolls through the automatic doors, the air locks hissing as he lets himself out into the rain, shoes tapping wetly on the pavement.
Reaching into his pocket, he fishes out a cigarette - an ancient, old world habit in comparison to the sleek vapes most people use - and sticks it between his lips, digging around his pocket for a lighter. He finds it and flicks it, the orange flame licking upward as he lights the cigarette, taking a brief drag. The flame catches and he flicks it shut, taking a heavy drag and lets the smoke settle in his lungs before he exhales into the neon smear of rain.
The street level is quieter this time of night, most of the storefronts closed, their holographic signs still flickering anyway. The street is full of advertising and marketing for Skin modification services, Core implant repairs, temporary Skin rentals for people too poor to own one permanently but desperate enough to spend a night as someone else.
Neon bleeds across the wet pavement in streaks of magenta and cyan, reflecting off the rain to create a blurry kaleidoscope of light that makes Mingyu's eyes water as he takes another drag, flicking ash into a puddle where it melts.
He walks, letting his feet guide him around the perimeter of the building, cool raing tapping down on his head and neck like soft fingers. He doesn't bother with an umbrella, the rain sliding off his jacket as he examines the exterior, cigarette wedged between his lips.
The neighborhood is a mix of high-rises towering over strip malls, luxury boutiques selling pricey mods next to hole-in-the-wall clinics offering illegal and questionable upgrades. It's one of common liminal spaces in the city where the almost wealthy clash with the lower glass, each fighting for dominance on the ground while the megaliths of the city exist in their towers far above.
Mingyu wonders what the rest of them look like from on high. He imagines that they can't even see people like him, rotting beneath the clouds and scurrying around like ants beneath a boot that's constantly waiting to step on them. Mingyu has been stepped on plenty of times, but he hasn't died yet and he doesn't plan on it now, heading to the back alleyway behind the building.
Dumpsters filled with broken tech litter the alleyway, but Mingyu pauses when he sees a bunch of old, rotted Skins. He lifts his arm, covering his face with it to ward off the smell. Skins are still bodies - they're still organic material like any other living organism, and they break down the same way. Seeing tossed Skins isn't uncommon, especially near body-mod shops, but Mingyu is unsettled to see them just tossed, flies buzzing around them.
Pulling out his phone, he dials Chan up stairs. "Send a team down to the back alley, there's discarded Skins. None of them look fresh or functional, but maybe our killer tosses theirs."
"On it."
"Also have someone dispose of these before someone wanders around and tries to take them. They're rotted beyond use, the last thing we need is some kind of infection going around because people are re-genning bad Skins."
"Understood."
Mingyu hangs up the phone and takes the final drag of his cigarette before flicking it toward the dumpster. He continues on his way, searching - for what he doesn't know. Something. Anything. He just wants to find something to help him unravel the mystery upstairs, something he's missed previously.
As always, he finds nothing except the smell of wet concrete and biological decay, the distant hum of an elevated train line cutting through the noise somewhere. He circles back to the front of the building and finds himself looking upward. The building is a vertical monument to wealth that juts up into the rain-soaked sky, but it's got nothing on the monstrosities the corporation owners and mega-rich of the city live in.
The rain grows heavier, coming down in sheets. Mingyu slips under the overhang in front of the building, watching as the world vanishes to a blur of light behind the rain. From here, he knows the city by heart - it spreads out in layers, the commercial district with aggressive neon signage, the old industrial zones still smoking from plants that are ready to collapse any minute, and beyond, the entertainment and wealthy districts.
Trains arc across the space between buildings while autonomous vehicles move through the streets in perfect formation, headlights occasionally cutting through the dark toward him as they pass by the building.
They city pulses on despite the death upstairs, the desperation and money and excess and filth all tangled together, and somewhere in it, is the person Mingyu is hunting, the butterfly that haunts his dreams and all of the hours in between.
Mingyu sighs, jaw clenched as he watches the rain, the same words on loop in his head: The butterfly effect is a principle chaos theory that states that small, seemingly insignificant changes in initial conditions can trigger massive, unpredictable, and vastly different outcomes in complex systems.
-
Mingyu stares at the six projected faces in front of him, the cyan of the holoscreen only broken up by the flicker as he switches from viewing all six of them at once to one at a time. The fluorescent lights overhead buzzes, glitching for a moment as it threatens to go out. It's been dying for three weeks now, humming like an insect trapped in a glass. No one has bothered to fix it, of course. The maintenance budget at the precinct is nonexistent, most of the funding funnelling into the new autonomous patrol units they send to patrol through the wealthy districts.
Down here in the bowels of the city, everything is falling apart. Water drips from a crack in the ceiling two desks over, landing in the metal track can with a constant metal drip that drives Mingyu nuts. The air smells like mildew and stale air undercut by the burnt coffee that tastes like battery acid every time he takes a sip. He drinks it out of a chipped mug anyway, needing the extra jolt of energy and unwilling to take any of the stimulants or quick fixes the young deputies prefer.
Mingyu's fingers drum on his mug to the rhythm of the dripping. He cannot unstick his thoughts from the six victims over six months, struggling to find the connection. He drags his finger across the holoscreen to pull up the first victim's file again, despite having read it a million times. The first victim is a male nobody, found in a cheap Skin rental unit in the lower districts, his body laid out with the same surgical precision and same butterfly effect audio playing on loop. The victim had no family, no friends, and the damaged Core had said unclaimed in evidence for two weeks unclaimed and uncared for before being incinerated per protocol.
Sighing, he swipes to the second victim, a female escort pulled from a job in the entertainment district. She'd been with a wealthy client a few hours prior, but the client had a clean alibi and had no problem letting them scan his Core for memories of the entire night. The escorts Core, like the first victim, had been damaged beyond recovery, just like the first, though the job had been done a little cleaner, a little better.
The third victim comes up as Mingyu stares. Mid-level corporate suit who worked in data analysis and had an entirely boring and normal life. No enemies, no debts, no reason for anyone to want him dead. His family had come to claim his Core two days after they'd been notified, and Mingyu was surprised to discover that in a world full of abnormal, the man had been even keel and plain with enough money to provide for himself and his family but not enough to do much else than that.
The fourth and fifth victims' only similarities were their involvement in the black market, though neither had crossed paths. The fourth had been a street vendor selling neural mods, but the fifth had been a retired surgeon who'd started performing illegal Core augmentations that had landed him with a fine and warning - not jail. Never jail.
And now Harlan Voss, the owner of an apartment complex. All of the victims had been from different parts of the city, the only thing linking them together was the ritual by which they had been left for him. Though Mingyu can't prove it, he feels like there's a joking edge to it now, like each death is meant to tease him and his inability to figure it out.
He leans back in his chair, the springs groaning under his weight. His eyes burn. He hasn't slept more than three hours in the past two days, and even that was broken up by the fragmented dreams of the butterfly effect audio bleeding into his fucking subconscious until he woke up gasping, the words echoing in his skull.
There's something he's missing. Mingyu knows he's on a timeline to figure it out now that Voss has been killed. Before, his superiors hadn't thought much of a serial killer stringing together some useless skins - people who didn't matter in the system. Though Harlan Voss doesn't matter, exactly, he's a step closer to the people up top that the city is obsessed with protecting, the people worth protecting.
Mingyu had learned a long time ago that people have become disposable. Bodies are just shells now, things you can rent or buy or discard when they stop serving you. Cores get pulled, transferred, reinstalled into something younger and prettier, and the person moves on. Humanity has been reduced to data, consciousness stripped down to the electrical impulses that can be copied, moved, and erased.
Death is so common to those at the top that it barely registers. But when real death happens - Core death - it turns heads, especially when it's a little too close to the gilded.
Mingyu's jaw tightens. His body aches, knees stiff, lower back throbbing from too many hours in this shitty chair, too many hours in the field in his original Skin. He feels every year of it, and though it makes him feel human, he can't help but be bothered how the wealthy don't age like this. They just buy new bodies by the dozen. Transfer over. Keep going. It's immortality for anyone who can afford it, cheating death over and over again.
Cracking his neck, Mingyu refocuses on the work at hand and pulls up the financial records again, cross-referencing bank accounts, transaction histories, anything that might link the victims. There's nothing, of course. Everyone has different banks and different spending patterns, different lives and different histories. The only thing they have in common is the way they died.
The butterfly effect is a principle in chaos theory…
Mingyu's phone buzzes on the desk. He picks it up to see Chan's name flash across the screen and he answers right away. "Lee, what have you got?"
"Core is ready," Chan says on the other side. "I've stabilized it enough for a read of the memory logs. You should come down."
"How long do we have?"
"Hard to say. It's pretty damaged. Could be an hour, could be less. If we're going to pull anything, it needs to be now."
"Heard. On my way."
Mingyu ends the call and stands. The holoscreen glows faintly in front of him, the six faces of the dead he can't seem to bring justice too staring back at him until he swipes again and they vanish. He grabs his jacket from the back of the chair and heads for the door, shrugging the leather over his shoulders.
The forensic lab is two floors down, a section of the station most detectives like to avoid. Mingyu takes the stairwell, refusing to get stuck in the elevator for a sixth time, leaping down the steps as he takes two at a time.
Bright, sterile light greets him as he pushes into the lab, making him squint. Banks of equipment link the walls, shelves full of neural readers, Core analysis stations, data extraction devices and a section for biopsy and medical analysis. The air smells faintly chemical, kind of like the inside of a machine. He prefers the smell of the burnt coffee and damp upstairs than whatever it is that permeates the forensic floor.
Chan is standing at the far end of the room, hunched over a workstation where a cylindrical containment unit glows with a faint, sickly cyan light. Voss's Core floats suspended in the translucent gel, its surface marred with dark fractures that spiderweb across the neural casing, damaged from the attack. Mingyu watches as the light flickers, pulsing in irregular intervals while Chan tinkers with it.
"Lee," Mingyu greets, crossing the room in a few long strides.
"We've got maybe thirty minutes before this thing goes dark," Chan says without looking up, his fingers tapping on a tablet next to him. A holographic interface appears over the desk, cyan numbers and date reflected in Chan's glasses. "Give me a sec."
"Can we reanimate him?" Mingyu asks, crossing his arms over his chest as Chan works.
The lab technician shakes his head. "No. The damage is too extensive. A system reboot would require full neural integration, and the Core can't support that kind of load. It would collapse the moment we tried to initialize consciousness."
He taps a section of the holographic display, pulling up a three-dimensional model of the Core's internal structure. Half of it is shaded black, dead zones where the neural pathways have been damaged beyond repair. Mingyu sighs, nodding. They're lucky they have anything at all - a damaged Core is better than no Core at all.
"We can access the memory storage," Chan says, tapping something. "It's fragmented and corrupted in places, but there's enough intact data that we can pull maybe a few minutes worth of his life from it. Maybe more if we're lucky."
"How much is a few minutes?"
"Hard to say until we're in. Could be five, could be ten. Depends on how much the Core was actively recording before it got damaged." Chan glances at Mingyu, his expression cautious. "This isn't like interrogating a living witness, Detective. We're pulling raw sensory data that will be from Voss's perception. It'll be disjointed - memory isn't linear."
Mingyu nods. "Do it."
Chan's fingers move across the interface, initiating the connection sequence. The containment unit hums, a low vibration that Mingyu feels in his chest, and the cyan light intensifies, brightening until it casts sharp shadows across the lab.
The holoscreen shifts and for a moment, there's nothing but static and a wash of grey noise that flickers and shifts. Then an image resolves, making both Mingyu and Chan lean forward as Chan tampers with the interface, sharpening the image.
A penthouse. Floor-to-cieling windows. Rain. The perspective shifts as Voss moves, walking across the floor of his apartment to his kitchen and grabs a bottle of whiskey and pours two fingers worth into a glass. Voss takes a swig and then walks back to the living room where Mingyu recognizes the space and the coffee table where Voss's body had been cracked open.
"This is from earlier in the evening," Chan says, his voice quiet. "Before the murder."
Mingyu doesn't respond. He's too focused on the screen, watching as Voss sits down on the couch, picks up a tablet and scrolls. Nothing else seems to happen, nothing that screams he's about to be murdered. Mingyu is about to complain when the perspective shifts again to show a new scene.
Marble floors reflect overhead lights. The sound of Voss's footsteps echo across his memory as he passes a doorman in a crisp uniform and a name tag that reads Martinez.
Rain hits the screen, rippling across the holo in temporary distortion as Voss gets into a car. The driver takes off and Minguy watches as the city blurs past in a mess of lights and umbrellas, the sensory feed blurring and glitching as it tries to accommodate for the sights and sounds and thoughts and feelings of Voss in that moment.
Suddenly the image blurs and shifts so that Voss is standing in front of a strip club. The entrance is unmarked except for a single neon sign that flickers in shades of magenta and violet, hearts climbing up the side as holograms of girls beckon him in. He passes through the door and strobing lights cut through the feed, blinding both Chan and Mingyu like they're seeing it in the flesh.
Heavy base pulses through the feed as Voss moves deeper into the club. A stage dominates the center of the space, and on it, multiple dancers move with practiced precision, their bodies catching the strobing lights in fragmented movements. Here, the feed breaks off into fractal images as the Core flashes - a leg extended, an arch of the back, a turn that sends hair flying.
Mingyu tries to catalogue the faces as he sees them - a woman with pink eyes, someone with a swirling tattoo, another with sharp eyes that seem to track the crowd even as her body ripples across the stage like water. It's your eyes that makes Mingyu pause, cutting him down to the bone, your gaze more present than that of the far-off look of the others.
But then you're gone as the perspective shifts and the image bleeds into Voss in the bathroom, drunk and leaning heavily against the urinal as he relieves himself. Chan makes a disgusted sound as the memory jumps again to a small ramen cart somewhere in an unknown district.
"This is jumping around," Chan says, his voice cutting through the feed. "The Core is pulling fragments non-sequentially. We're seeing his evening out of order."
Another jump. More faces. A man in a leather jacket, arguing with someone Mingyu can't see. A couple pressed against the wall, kissing. A group of young people clustered around a table, their faces illuminated by the glow of their handheld screens.
And then, for just a moment, another face that belongs to a woman standing near the back of the bar, watching the crowd.
Mingyu's breath catches. He knows that face.
"Wait," he says, his hand shooting up. "Stop. Go back."
Chan's fingers freeze over the interface. "What?"
"That woman. The one in the back." Mingyu leans closer to the holoscreen, his exhaustion momentarily burned away by a spike of adrenaline. "I've seen her before. In the club footage. She was on stage."
Chan rewinds the feed, pulling up the earlier memory from the strip club. The perspective shifts back to the moment on stage. A woman with pink eyes, one with a swirling tattoo, one with sharp eyes. Mingyu points.
"Her," he murmurs. "She's in two of his memories."
"Could be coincidence," Chan says, but his tone suggests he doesn't believe it. "She could work multiple venues. Dancers do that sometimes."
"Or she was following him," Mingyu says. The implications settle over the lab like a weight. "Or she was part of it."
The perspective lingers on you for a fraction of a second longer than the others, just long enough for Mingyu to register your face clearly, and then Voss turns away and you're gone, swallowed back into the crowd.
The memory jumps again. Voss is back in his car, then in the lobby of his building, then in the elevator ascending to his floor. The doorman from earlier is talking to someone Mingyu can't see. Security personnel stand near the entrance, their faces blank and professional. A woman in a business suit walks past, her heels clicking against the marble, her face turned toward her phone.
Then Voss is in his penthouse. The perspective shifts as Voss moves, walking across the floor of his apartment to his kitchen and grabs a bottle of whiskey and pours two fingers worth into a glass. Voss takes a swig and then walks back to the living room where Mingyu recognizes the space and the coffee table where Voss's body had been cracked open.
"We're back at the beginning," Chan notes."
In the memory, the doorbell chimes. Mingyu leans forward, his pulse quickening when he realizes this must be it - this has to be the moment the killer entered the apartment. The image flickers and static washes across the holoscreen, distorting the feed. When it clears, the perspective has put Voss back in the living room again as the sound of the doorbell loops.
"It's corrupting," Chan notes, hitting a few buttons on his tablet. "Fuck, it's going to fry."
"Push it anyway. We're right there."
Chan obeys but the containment unit's hum rises to a high-pitched whine as warnings flash across the screen about the Core overheating. The holoscreen sharpens but Mingyu lets out an angry sound when he sees the memory loop back to Voss walking into the apartment building again, ignoring Martinez at the door as he heads for the elevator. The feed glitches, harsh reds and blues blooming across the screen before Voss is back at the club again, with you leaning forward, your eyes piercing even in the corrupted feed.
"No, go back to the apartment!"
"I'm trying," Chan shoots back. "I told you, this thing is damaged and we've got way more out of it than expected."
Audio fragments layer over each other, the pounding bass of the club's music mixing with the ding of the elevator, and the doorman's greeting. It's a mess of sound, too much information compressed into too little time, the Core's final desperate attempt to dump everything before it dies.
"Come on," Chan mutters to himself, trying to sharpen the feed as the containment unit whines. "Fucking come on!"
The doorbell rings again and Voss walks toward the door as Mingyu leans closer, his heart beating in his throat. Voss reaches out with one hand toward the door and the holoscreen goes dark, the containment unit's light dying as the hum cuts off sharply. An acrid smell comes from the Core where it smokes, the electrical wiring fried, filling the air with a metallic, burnt smell.
"Dammit!" Mingyu swears, punching a fist down on the lab table. The containment unit rattles and Mingyu leans on his hands, head hanging between his shoulders as Chan tries to pry the dead, smoking Core out of the unit. "Fuck. Fuck."
"Well," Chan sighs. "At least I recorded it all."
Mingy lifts his head. "What?"
"The data. I recorded it while extracting." He raises his brows. "Do you think I'm an idiot? I put it on a backup file so at least what we have - even if it's fuck all - is on a drive. I can run some facial recognition on everyone who passed through the memory."
Mingyu straightens, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "How long?"
"Couple hours, maybe more. Go home, Detective. Get some rest. There's nothing more we can do for a few hours and you look like shit, man."
Mingyu wants to argue, wants to stay and watch the facial recognition run in real time, but he knows Chan is right. He's been awake for thirty-six hours straight, his body running on caffeine and adrenaline, and his mind is starting to blur at the edges. He nods once, sharp, and turns toward the door.
"I'll call you when I have something," Chan says.
Mingyu doesn't respond. He walks out of the lab, through the sterile white corridor, and back up the stairwell to his floor of the precinct. It's quieter upstairs now, most of the day shift gone with only a few officers still lingering at their desks as they pour themselves over paperwork and their own cases. Mingyu grabs his jacket from the back of his chair, hits the power button on his computer, and heads for the garage.
Fluorescent lights flicker above his head as he jogs down the concrete stairwell, footsteps loud and echoing. The air gets cold and damp as he descends, the rain seeping in through the shitty insulation and clinging to the walls. By the time he reaches the garage level, he feels the moisture in his shirt and hair, clinging to him like a heavy second skin.
The garage is mostly empty, making it easy to spot his bike near the back. It's sleek and shining in the reflection of the light fixture above it, black surface gleaming. It's the single most expensive thing that Mingyu owns and his most prized possession, hours of learning how to take care of it and fix it because tune ups are out of his pay range poured into the machine.
He swings a leg over it and removes the helmet from where it hangs on the handle bars, popping it over his head where a cyan heads up display appears across the face shield. He presses the start button and the bike roars to life under him, vibrating as he nudges the footstand and rolls forward, twisting the throttle until he's coasting through the garage.
Rain hits him as soon as he hits the street level, cold and rushing off his helmet in neon rivulets. The streets are slick as glass beneath him, reflecting the towers of the city on either side of the road, ripping as he gasses it and his bike tears through the street.
He cuts through the lower districts and side streets, avoiding the elevated highways where there's always traffic and road closures because some rich asshole has paid a heavy fee for an expedited drive somewhere. Down here, the world is just like Mingyu likes it, all cracked pavement and burnt out street lights, the flickering holographic advertisements advertising very illegal clinics that he ignores because so long as they're not murdering anyone, he doesn't have time to care.
Mingyu doesn't go straight home, too wired to do anything but pace the walls of his tiny apartment in silence. Instead, he cuts into a mixed commercial district a few blocks from his apartment, heading for a stretch of storefronts and vendors that stay open late.
Above, the rain has softened to a drizzle, misting the air as he kills the engine and walks the bike forward to the curb before setting it on the kickstand. He pops the helmet off and takes it with him this time, not stupid enough to leave it unguarded downtown like he might in the garage of a police precinct.
He walks past a pawn shop with bars on the windows, the display cluttered with outdated neutral interfaces, cracked holoscreen displays and retro computers. The shop is closed, but he can see the security bot inside, patrolling as it tips back and forth while driving over uneven flooring.
Next to the pawn shop is a laundromat he's intimately familiar with from the apartment he lived in just two blocks away. In his earlier days on the job, he'd sit here on Sundays and listen to the machines hum, thankful for the warmth in the winter from the exhaust vents while he poured over cases and bitch work given to him until he could earn his keep.
Mingyu keeps walking, passing a convenience store with flickering signs and people that move with hunched shoulders against the drizzle. No one pays him much mind, everyone too preoccupied with their own lives as they scuttle along like beetles.
The automatic door of the 24-hour market hisses when Mingyu ducks in. Bright lights make him squint as he walks the aisle filled with bright neon prices and advertisements calling to him, products ranging from everything to instant meals, cigarettes and cheap liquor to disposable razors and batteries. A clerk sits behind the counter, scrolling through a tablet, ignoring Mingyu entirely.
Mingyu doesn't mind. He picks up a pack of ramen, a bottle of cold coffee from the refrigerated section, a pack of cigarettes, and a pack of caffeine gum in cherry flavor that he likes to chew late at night on the job for an extra kick of energy. The clerk rings him up without comment and Mingyu pays with his phone before scooping his things and heading back outside into the drizzle.
Pausing, he tears open the new pack of cigarettes with his teeth, rolling the plastic and tossing it into the trash. Fishing one out, he sticks it between his lips and searches for a lighter for a few seconds before lighting it and taking a deep drag, feeling his lungs expand as they feel with acrid smoke.
Mingyu can't help but think about you in Voss's memory, the dancer with the sharp gaze who appeared twice. It isn't much, but it can't be a coincidence - coincidences don't exist in Mingyu's line of work. He knows the city is full of people moving through the same spaces and crossing paths without meaning, but seeing you multiple times in Voss's memory is something.
The butterfly effect is a principle chaos theory that states that small, seemingly insignificant changes in initial conditions can trigger massive, unpredictable, and vastly different outcomes in complex systems.
Mingyu sucks in another drag and blows the smoke out in a sigh. As much as he hates for his killer to be right about anything, Mingyu feels instinctually that you are, that something about you has caused a ripple effect. He just needs to figure out how and why.
He finishes the cigarette and drops it, grinding it out under his heel while the smoke lingers in his lungs for a minute. Shuffling the bag in his arms, he heads back toward where he parked his bike, passing by a noddle stand on the corner with steam rising and the smell of frying garlic and chili oil cutting through the damp air. Mingyu considers stopping, but he's not hungry. He just needed to be somewhere that wasn't the station or his apartment.
Back at the bike, he opens the seat and dumps his belongings in the compartment before swinging back on and pulling his helmet on. The drive to his apartment is slow and winding, cutting through back alleys and misting rain until he's parking in the cracked-concrete garage and taking the stairs up to the fourth floor.
Mingyu shoulders into the apartment after unlocking the door, immediately toeing off his boots while he locks the door behind him. It's not much - just one room, a kitchenette, a bathroom with a shower that barely works and has no hot water, and one large window that overlooks the street, the view mostly obscured by the constant rain.
He sets the bag on the counter and pulls out the ramen before going through the motions, boiling water and tearing into the sauce packet with his teeth, mind far away from his little corner of the world while he thinks about you again, a thread among the chaos - a beat of a butterfly's wings, maybe.
-
Mingyu jolts awake in the dim glow of his apartment, his heart hammering against his ribs. The ringing that cuts through the haze is distorted and confusing until he realizes there's a small green hologram lighting up over his phone. He fumbles for it, hand knocking over his reading glasses, his pistol, and the tablet he'd been using to research the stupid butterfly effect again.
Chan's name displays as the phone continues ringing, lighting up the world as Mingyu fumbles to answer. "Hello?
"You sound like hell," Chan replies, the sound of a keyboard in the background. "Facial rec pulled a hit on that woman from Voss's memory. Cross-referenced with club surveillance feeds from the entertainment district, looks like she's a performer at the club Wings. High end joint."
Mingyu leans against his headboard, running a hand over his face. The single window in his unit lets in the never-ending neon glow from outside, casting dull patterns across his bedroom. He hears the rain tapping against the glass, a constant companion.
"Wings. Got it. Send me the address."
"On it. It's in the mid-tier entertainment strip near the old elevated line. I recommend caution. It's on the mid-tier strip but it leans high end - the entertainment there aren't standard rentals."
"Name?"
"Looks like the stage name might be Psyche."
Mingyu frowns as he gets out of bed and grabs a dirty pair of jeans off the floor to shove one leg in, jamming the phone between his face and his shoulder.
"Like the wife of Cupid?"
"Seems that way."
"Anything else?
"Clean on the surface. No priors, no traffic tickets. Nothing."
"Well his memory showed her twice. Can't be random."
Chan sighs. "I'm inclined to agree. Like I said, be careful. Security at these places crack skulls first and ask questions later. You don't have money for a new Skin."
"Heard. Talk later."
Mingyu finishes getting dressed, his heart hammering the entire time. This is the thread - the butterfly's wingbeat. He can feel it in his gut, something sharpening into something purposeful, an instinct that has led him on every hunt for a killer he's been on.
He moves quickly, pulling on a long-sleeved shirt that smells like sweat and cologne, pulling on boots with loose laces, and tucking his gun in the back of his pants before hiding it with the hem of his shirt. He tucks a badge in his pocket, and heads out of the room, knocking his shin against the corner of the bed and cursing loudly.
At the door, he grabs his helmet and heads out into the hall, nearly jogging as he takes the steps down to street level two at a time. Rain greets him outside, making his shirt cling to his frame as he straddles his bike. The engine roars to life, HUD on his helmet flickering alive with the address overlay. He twists the throttle and tears into the night, tires slicing through puddles.
The ride blurs into a streak of neon and the lower streets give way to the mid-level sprawl, where wealth brushes against grit. Autonomous cabs hum past, their passengers hidden behind tinted fields. Elevated tracks arc overhead, sparks occasionally flying from aging mag-rails. Mingyu leans into turns, the bike's vibration thrumming through his bones, chasing away the last dregs of fatigue.
By the time he pulls up to the curb outside Wings, the rain eases to a misty veil, but the air hangs heavy with the smell of gas and rusting metal, a permanent smell that never really seems to leave.
He parks the bike on a side street and heads toward the front door of the club, uncaring that he's a bit damp and messy. The club is impossible to miss, the facade bright with iridescent panels that shift colors under a massive holographic marque that reads: WELCOME TO WINGS, WHERE FANTASIES TAKE FLIGHT.
Security drones hover discreetly at the entrance, red scanner lights sweeping patrons as they stand in line. The line is mostly men who look better dressed than Mingyu, umbrellas in hand to keep the rain off their backs as a security guard stands at the door checking IDs and taking money.
Mingyu gets in line and ignores the way the others look at him, tucking his helmet under his arm. He's bouncing with energy now, craning his neck to look up at the holograms above, dancers in all manner of fantasy writhing and twisting in shades of fuchsia and red and lavender.
It takes about ten minutes to reach the door where a security guard with one augmented eye looks at him, his lens turning cyan as he scans Mingyu. He holds out his hand for an ID, which Mingyu hands over immediately.
"Cover is two hundred creds. If you want a private room, see the bar. Private rooms start at five hundred."
"Two hundred?" He asks, feeling himself stall out. "Fucking hell."
"Pay or get out."
Grumbling, Mingyu takes out his phone and transfers over the credits, swallowing thickly when he sees how close it brings him to the negatives. He's not sure this qualifies for reimbursement at the station, but he's going to file it anyway.
"Head in. Any trouble and you're out."
Mingyu steps by as the door hisses open. Inside, the air is thick with the scent of engineered pheromones being pumped in through the vents with the smell of liquor. Bass pumps through the room, vibrating through the floor and up his spine. The main floor sprawls under a vaulted ceiling alive with projected constellations that shift in real-time, stars turning as though the club is spinning in time with the world's real rotation.
Dancers move with unnatural grace, and it takes Mingyu a moment to realize that all of them have wings. He spots one with dragonfly wings that glitter as she spends, refracting light. Another has raven wings, inky black even as she twists around a pole under cyan light.
He hadn't expected the theme to be so literal, but he's glad that the wings are wearables and not uncanny body mods. He slinks through the room between patrons, noting the privacy feels that shimmer in the distance to hide the VIP booths from prying eyes. The private rooms are further back, a neon sign above a shadow hall with fly away above it.
Mingyu's eyes scan methodically, cutting through the sensory overload. He clocks exits, security nodes embedded in the walls, the faint hum of surveillance drones disguised as decorative moths fluttering near the ceiling. No sign of you yet, though, so he drifts toward the bar, ordering a cheap synth-whiskey to blend in, the glass cool against his callused fingers. The liquid burns familiarly as he sips, eyes never still.
Then he sees you and the world slows down a little.
You emerge from a side alcove onto one of the elevated platforms framed by gossamer curtains that part around you, moved by some sort of air effect. You're wearing delicate butterfly wings, spans of translucent fabric that looks like real membrane catching the light. You're dressed in minimal strips of iridescent material, accentuating each one of your curves while leaving the wings unobstructed.
Just like in Voss's memories, it's your eyes that make Mingyu freeze. It carries the same piercing quality as you dance, cutting through the room. It's not the same hazy allure of the other dancers, but something more focused like a predator among pretty things.
Butterfly wings. It makes him go cold, the butterfly effect audio recycling through his head over and over as he watches you dance, your wings fluttering. Despite being fake, they look real, catching the light as you shimmer, more beautiful than anything else he's ever seen.
Mingyu finishes his drink and sets it down harshly as he turns to the bar and hails down a bartender to ask for a private room. The bartender slides over a tablet and Mingyu scrolls until he finds your stage name - Psyche - and nearly vomits the whiskey back up when he sees the price.
"Eight hundred credits for thirty minutes?" He growls. He curses under his breath and charges it to his credit card, knowing he's never going to pay it off before it gains sixty percent interest. "Better be fucking worth it."
A room number flashes on the screen and he memorizes it before stalking off toward the hallway of private rooms, glancing at your platform as he does. You tilt your head, hand going briefly to your ear before turning to get off the platform. It's then that he realizes you have an ear piece in. He files that piece of information away.
The private room is small and blessedly clean, the seats plush with a low table in front of them. He throws himself down and shivers, the room unnaturally cold. He glances around but sees no clock or anything else in the room except a private bar which he knows will cost extra, so he doesn't dare, instead staring at the door until it opens.
Mingyu's heart starts to hammer as you slide into the room, sitting up straighter. It doesn't occur to him that up until this morning, he's never done this before. The realization makes him nervous, palms sweaty as you slink toward him, smiling and tilting your head.
"New face," you greet, sliding onto the seat next to him. You lean against the seat, facing him as you cross one leg over the other. "Pretty face."
Up close, the details on your face come into sharp focus: faint iridescence on your skin like starlight, the scent of jasmine and amber, pretty eyes that swallow him whole.
"Looking to forget the rain outside?" You ask him, voice sweet and soft. "I can fix that."
Mingyu leans back, forcing a lazy smirk that does not reach his eyes. He plays the part - client with creds to burn, interest piqued by the exotic. "Something like that."
A small smile tugs your lips. "What do you want tonight? Escape? Or just a pretty distraction?"
"Distraction sounds good. Start with a dance, yeah?"
If you sense his confidence is feigned, you don't show it. You stand, the wings spreading wide behind you, catching the low light and refracting it into soft gradients of color. The music shifts to something slower and heavier, the bass making Mingyu's skin itch. You move with practiced precision, hips swaying as you step closer, one hand trailing along the back of the couch.
Mingyu's breath catches. He reminds himself it's the job and that he's here for information, not this. But his body doesn't listen as he becomes hyper aware of you, his fingers twitching as he fights not to jump out of the booth and away from you. It's not that he's bad with women - he's not - but this is new to him, never having paid for a moment of attention this intimate and sensual.
You turn your back to him now, the wings folding slightly as you lower yourself onto his lap. The weight of you is real and solid, warm through the thin fabric of his clothes. You roll your hips slowly and Mingyu's hands grip the edge of the couch to keep from reaching for you or pushing you off - he's not entirely sure which.
Your hair brushes his jaw as you lean back, your head tilting to rest near his shoulder, and he feels the heat of your breath against his neck. He can't help but shiver, the smell of your jasmine and amber so overwhelming he feels his lashes flutter.
"You're tense," you murmur. "Relax."
He can't. His mind is racing, cataloging details like the way you move, the control in every gesture, the sharpness in your eyes when you glanced at him earlier. This isn't just a performance. There's something calculated about it, something that doesn't match the soft, breathy voice you're using now.
You turn again, straddling him now, your knees pressing into the couch on either side of his hips. Your hands rest on his shoulders, fingers light, and you lean in close enough that he can see the faint shimmer of makeup on your eyelids, the way your pupils dilate in the low light.
"Better?" you ask, smiling.
Mingyu swallows. "Yeah."
You laugh, soft and knowing, and shift your weight, grinding down just enough to make his pulse spike. The wings flutter behind you, a distraction, a spectacle, and he realizes that's the point. You're good at this and he doesn't know why but he hates that it works on him, even if it's your job to do this, to pull focus, to keep the client's attention where you want it.
He clears his throat, forcing himself to focus. "You're good at what you do."
"I know," you whisper, tilting your head so that your breath fans against his ear. "Don't you want to touch me?
"Actually, I uh - want to ask you something."
You pull away from him and though your smile doesn't falter, your eyes shift. "That's expensive."
"No," Mingyu protests quickly, grabbing you and pushing you back a little. You flinch when he touches you and he lets go immediately. "Sorry, I don't want to like - that."
"Okay. Then what do you want?"
"You know Harlan Voss?"
It's the wrong question to ask. Your entire body goes rigid and your eyes lock onto his as your delicate persona shatters immediately. What's left is sharp, cold, and predatory. Mingyu's pulse spikes as you get off of him and put space between you, your eyes icy.
"Who the fuck are you?" you ask. Your real voice is a little deeper than the breathy rasp you'd used moments ago. "And what the fuck do you want?"
Mingyu holds up his hands. "I just need to ask you a few questions-"
"Get the fuck out."
"Listen, I'm not here to cause trouble-"
You hit a button he didn't see near the door and the door opens immediately. Mingyu makes a sound of protest when he sees a security guard appear at the door, his eyes glancing between the two of you.
"Problem?" He asks.
"He needs to leave. Now."
Mingyu stands slowly, adrenaline cutting through the tension in his body. His pulse is still elevated from the dance, from the heat of your body on his lap. He pulls the badge from his pocket and the security guard stiffens further. So do you, taking a step away from him again.
"You need a warrant, buddy."
"Detective Kim. Homicide. I'm investigating a murder, and I need to ask her some questions."
"I don't give a fuck who you are," you seethe. "Get out."
He sighs. "Can we just-"
"Get a warrant," you snarl, barring your teeth at him like something feral.
Mingyu realizes you're afraid of him. Not like someone caught in a lie or someone caught with their hand on the gun, but like someone who is cowering, like he might strike. He thinks it's odd, watching as you shake, eyes wide and trembling.
He could push. He could insist, make this official, drag you down to the station for questioning. But something in him softens, and he pockets the badge, raising his hands. "I'll leave. No trouble."
The security guard steps aside and Mingyu walks toward the door as he looks at you one last time. Your wings are still spread wide, trembling slightly, and your eyes are locked on him. There's fear there, yes, but something else too. Recognition. Guilt. Something. Before he can decide what, the security guard steps between you and cuts off Mngyu's line of sight, ushering him into the hallway.
With a loud shout that's lost to the pound of music, you slam the door. Mingyu sighs, staring at the door for a few minutes before he turns and walks back through the club, the music vibrating through the walls as he winds past the stages and the strobing lights. His mind is stuck on you, of course. The terror. The gaze. The butterfly wings.
The butterfly effect is a principle chaos theory that states that small, seemingly insignificant changes in initial conditions can trigger massive, unpredictable, and vastly different outcomes in complex systems.
He pushes through the front door and into the rain, the cold hitting him sharply. Mingyu shivers but stands outside the door, letting the rain cut through him, washing away the smell of jasmine and amber, clearing his mind a little.
You know something. Mingyu doesn't know what, but he's sure of it. You're the butterfly at the root of it all, and now he just needs to know the cause of the effect.
Author: bratzkoo
Pairing: exes! joshua x reader
Genre: fluff, semi-angst
Rating: PG-15
Word count: 4.8k~
Warnings/note: i just want joshua to do something very loser of him just to get his ex back.
summary: 5 years after your break up, Joshua tries his best to get your attention. May it be creating a new instagram to get you to notice him, making your brother (Seungkwan) secretly invite him to his birthday party, and his latest act: begging you on his knees in front of your door to get him back. He just never gives up!
taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): @escoupseu , @yanabaaaaaaarysheva , @spnyin , @sousydive
requests are open, but you can just say hi! | masterlist
You didn’t really see it coming.
The autumn breeze carried a hint of crisp possibility as you walked through the park, fallen leaves crunching satisfyingly beneath your feet. Life was good – you had a successful career that challenged and fulfilled you, a cozy apartment in the heart of the city, and a circle of friends who filled your days with laughter and your nights with adventure.
As you strolled along the winding path, you couldn't help but smile at the scenes around you. Couples walked hand in hand, their heads bent close in conversation. Families spread out on checkered blankets, enjoying impromptu picnics in the fading warmth of the season. A group of friends tossed a frisbee, their shouts and laughter carrying on the wind.
You paused for a moment, tilting your face up to catch the last rays of the setting sun. Contentment washed over you, a feeling of being exactly where you were meant to be. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, likely Ranee confirming plans for your weekly wine and movie night. Life had fallen into a comfortable rhythm, one that you'd worked hard to create and maintain.
Little did you know that this carefully constructed peace was about to be shaken to its core. As you reached for your phone, you were blissfully unaware of the storm that was brewing, of the persistent force that was about to re-enter your life and turn everything upside down.
Somewhere across the city, Joshua Hong was steeling his nerves, his finger hovering over the 'Create Account' button on Instagram. He'd spent weeks crafting the perfect username, carefully selecting photos, and writing and rewriting his bio. Now, with a deep breath and a silent prayer, he was about to take the first step in his plan to win you back.
But for now, in this moment, you were simply enjoying the park, the autumn day, and the life you'd built for yourself. The future, with all its unexpected twists and turns, could wait.
Your phone buzzed in your pocket, pulling you from your reverie. A notification from Instagram – a new follow request. Your breath caught as you read the username: J_Hong_1996. It couldn't be... could it?
With trembling fingers, you tapped on the profile. The photos were sparse, but unmistakable. Joshua, looking older but still achingly familiar, in various locations around the city. Your city. He was back.
For a moment, you considered hitting the 'Decline' button, shutting this unexpected door before it could fully open. But curiosity – or perhaps something deeper – made you hesitate. Before you could overthink it, you hit 'Accept', telling yourself it was just to see what he was up to.
Within minutes, your phone buzzed again. A direct message.
"(Y/N), I know it's been a long time, but I'm back in town. Can we talk?"
You stared at the message, a whirlwind of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. Anger at his presumption, hurt that still lingered after all these years, and underneath it all, a traitorous flicker of... what? Hope? Longing? You shook your head, banishing the thought.
Days passed, and more messages followed, each one a little more desperate than the last.
"I understand if you're angry. I just want a chance to explain."
"I've missed you every day for the past five years. Please, just five minutes of your time."
"I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I'm hoping you'll give me a chance to earn it."
You continued to ignore them, hoping he'd take the hint. But Joshua, it seemed, was nothing if not persistent.
A week after the first Instagram request, your brother Seungkwan called. His voice was suspiciously casual as he said, "Hey, sis! Just finalizing plans for my birthday party next weekend. You're coming, right?"
"Of course," you replied, a smile in your voice despite your turbulent thoughts. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."
"Great!" Seungkwan said, a little too enthusiastically. There was a pause, and then, "Oh, and, uh, just so you know... Joshua might be there. He reached out, said he was back in town and wanted to reconnect with old friends. I hope that's okay?"
Your grip tightened on the phone, knuckles turning white. "Seungkwan," you said, your voice dangerously calm, "did he put you up to this?"
Your brother's guilty silence was all the answer you needed. You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. "It's fine. It's your party. Invite whoever you want."
As you ended the call, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were being maneuvered into a confrontation you weren't sure you were ready for.
The night of Seungkwan's party arrived, crisp and clear. You'd spent an embarrassing amount of time choosing your outfit – a sleek black dress that hugged your curves, paired with your favorite heels. You told yourself it was for your own confidence, not for any other reason.
The moment you stepped into the crowded apartment, you felt his presence. It was like a sixth sense, your body attuned to his proximity even after all these years. You scanned the room, your heart racing, but there was no sign of him.
For the first hour, you managed to avoid him, sticking close to your friends and keeping your eyes averted from the door. But as you stepped out onto the balcony for a breath of fresh air, you heard his voice behind you.
"(Y/N)."
You turned slowly, steeling yourself. And there he was. Joshua. Five years older, a touch of silver at his temples, but still devastatingly handsome. His eyes, those warm brown eyes that had once looked at you with such love, now held a mixture of hope and trepidation.
"Hello, Joshua," you said, proud of how steady your voice sounded.
He took a step closer, and you fought the urge to back away. "Thank you for not running away," he said softly. "I wasn't sure you'd even talk to me."
"I'm here for Seungkwan," you replied, perhaps a bit more sharply than necessary. "This isn't about you."
Joshua nodded, a flicker of hurt crossing his face. "I know. But I'm hoping... maybe we could talk? Just for a few minutes?"
You sighed, looking out over the city skyline. "What is there to talk about, Joshua? It's been five years. We've both moved on."
"Have we?" he asked, moving to stand beside you at the railing. "Because I haven't. Not really."
You turned to face him, anger bubbling up inside you. "And whose fault is that? You're the one who left, remember? You don't get to come back after five years and act like nothing's changed."
"I know," Joshua said, his voice thick with regret. "I know I hurt you, and I'm so sorry. I've regretted leaving every day for the past five years. You're all I think about, (Y/N). I made the biggest mistake of my life walking away from us, and I'm hoping... I'm hoping you'll give me a chance to make it right."
You shook your head, stepping away from him. "It's too late for that, Joshua. We can't go back."
As you walked away, leaving him alone on the balcony, you couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't over. You were right.
For weeks after the party, Joshua's attempts to reach you intensified. It started with flowers delivered to your office – a stunning bouquet of your favorite blooms. Your coworkers cooed and speculated, but you simply moved them to the break room, ignoring the card that bore his familiar handwriting.
Next came the letters. Handwritten pages that showed up in your mailbox, pouring out his heart, explaining his actions, and begging for another chance. You told yourself you were going to throw them away unread, but each night found you poring over his words, tears staining the pages.
Then there was the singing telegram – a mortifying experience that left your entire office buzzing with gossip. As the poor college student in a ridiculous costume belted out a heartfelt rendition of "your song," you wanted nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow you whole.
Each gesture chipped away at your resolve, even as you tried to maintain your distance. You found yourself lying awake at night, memories of your time together playing on an endless loop. The good times – lazy Sunday mornings tangled in bed, surprise picnics in the park, the way he'd look at you like you were the only person in the world. But also the bad – the fights that grew more frequent towards the end, the distance that had grown between you, the day he'd walked out with nothing but a suitcase and a broken promise.
Your friends were divided on the issue. Ranee, ever the romantic, thought you should hear him out. "People change, (Y/N)," she'd say over wine and takeout. "Maybe he really has grown up. Don't you owe it to yourself to at least listen?"
But Jihoon, who'd seen you through the worst of the breakup, was adamantly against it. "He had his chance," he'd argue, eyes flashing with protective anger. "He doesn't get to waltz back in and disrupt your life just because he's decided he made a mistake."
You appreciated their concern, but in the end, you knew the decision had to be yours. And despite your best efforts to stay strong, to remember the pain he'd caused, you could feel your resolve weakening.
Then came the night that changed everything.
You were settling in for a quiet evening at home, a glass of wine in hand and your favorite movie queued up, when a commotion outside your apartment door caught your attention. Frowning, you muted the TV and approached cautiously, peering through the peephole.
Your heart nearly stopped at what you saw.
Joshua was on his knees in the hallway, a bouquet of your favorite flowers clutched in his hands. Tears streamed down his face as he looked up at your door, unaware that you were watching. His voice, muffled but clear, carried through the wood.
"(Y/N), please. I know you're in there. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I'm begging you to give me a chance."
You pressed your forehead against the door, closing your eyes as his words washed over you.
"I was stupid for letting you go, and I've spent every day since then regretting it. You're still the one for me, (Y/N). You've always been the one. I'll do anything to prove it to you. Please, just open the door."
Your hand hovered over the doorknob, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he must be able to hear it. Five years of hurt, of carefully rebuilding your life, warred against the undeniable pull you still felt towards him.
"I'm not giving up," Joshua continued, his voice cracking with emotion. "I'll stay here all night if I have to. I'll come back every day until you're ready to talk to me. Because I know, deep down, that we're meant to be together. Please, (Y/N). Just give me one more chance."
You leaned back against the wall, sliding down until you were sitting on the floor, knees pulled up to your chest. Memories flooded your mind – the day you met, your first kiss, the night he told you he loved you. But also the fights, the growing distance, the day he'd walked out. You'd worked so hard to move on, to build a life without him. Could you really risk opening that door again?
As if he could sense your indecision, Joshua's pleas grew more urgent. "I know I hurt you. I know I left you alone, and I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am for that. But being back here, being close to you again... it's made me realize that you're still the one for me. You always have been."
You found yourself standing, drawn to his voice like a magnet. Your hand reached for the doorknob of its own accord.
"I've tried to start again, to find somebody else," Joshua continued, unaware of your internal struggle. "But I can't get you out of my head. The memories, the things we said to each other... they're always there. I can't move on, (Y/N). Not without knowing I did everything I could to make things right between us."
With a shaky breath, you turned the knob. As you slowly opened the door, Joshua's eyes met yours, filled with a mixture of hope and fear. He scrambled to his feet, the flowers clutched tightly in his hand.
"You have five minutes," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "After that, if I tell you to leave, you go. And you don't come back. Understood?"
Joshua nodded eagerly, relief washing over his features. "Thank you, (Y/N). That's all I'm asking for. A chance to explain, to show you how much you mean to me."
You stepped aside, allowing him to enter. As he passed, his familiar scent – a mix of cologne and something uniquely him – enveloped you, bringing with it a rush of memories. You closed the door and turned to face him, arms crossed protectively over your chest.
"Talk," you said simply.
Joshua took a deep breath, setting the flowers on a nearby table. "First, I want to say how sorry I am. Not just for leaving, but for how I handled everything leading up to it. I was young and stupid and scared of the intensity of what I felt for you. Instead of talking to you about my fears, I pushed you away. I convinced myself that leaving was the right thing to do, that we'd both be better off. But I was wrong. So incredibly wrong."
You remained silent, watching him carefully. Joshua ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture you remembered all too well.
"These past five years have been... empty," he continued. "I threw myself into my work, traveled, tried to convince myself I was living this great, exciting life. But nothing felt right. Nothing felt like home. Because home was always with you, (Y/N)."
"Why now?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. "Why come back after all this time?"
Joshua's eyes met yours, filled with a sincerity that made your heart ache. "Because I finally realized what an idiot I'd been. Because the thought of going another day without you in my life was unbearable. I know I have no right to ask for your forgiveness, let alone a second chance. But I had to try. I couldn't live with myself if I didn't at least tell you how I feel."
You turned away, moving to the window to look out at the city lights. "And how do you feel, Joshua?"
You heard him step closer, though he didn't touch you. "I love you, (Y/N). I never stopped loving you. You're the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing on my mind before I go to sleep. Every good thing that happens, I want to share with you. Every bad day, I wish you were there to make it better. You're it for me. You're the one."
Tears pricked at your eyes, and you blinked them back furiously. "Love isn't always enough, Joshua. You proved that when you walked out five years ago."
"I know," he said softly. "But I've changed. I've grown up. I know now that love isn't just a feeling – it's a choice. And I choose you, (Y/N). I'll choose you every day for the rest of my life if you'll let me."
You turned to face him, taking in the earnest expression on his face, the love and hope shining in his eyes. "And what if I say no? What if I tell you to leave and never come back?"
Pain flashed across Joshua's features, but he stood his ground. "Then I'll respect your decision. It'll break my heart, but I'll go. Because more than anything, I want you to be happy. Even if that happiness doesn't include me."
His words hung in the air between you, heavy with promise and possibility. You found yourself at a crossroads, the path forward unclear. On one side lay the safety of the life you'd built without him – predictable, stable, but tinged with a loneliness you'd never quite been able to shake. On the other, the unknown – the risk of heartbreak, but also the potential for a love deeper and stronger than before.
"I can't..." you started, your voice breaking. You took a deep breath and tried again. "I can't just forget everything that happened, Joshua. The pain, the years of trying to move on... it's not that simple."
He nodded, understanding in his eyes. "I know. I'm not asking you to forget. I'm asking for a chance to make new memories, better ones. To show you every day how much you mean to me, how sorry I am for the pain I caused."
You closed your eyes, overwhelmed by the emotions coursing through you. When you opened them again, Joshua was still there, waiting patiently, hope etched in every line of his face.
"I can't promise you anything," you said finally. "I don't know if I can trust you again, or if I even want to try. But..." you paused, hardly believing the words about to leave your mouth, "I'm willing to listen. To take things slowly and see where they lead."
The smile that lit up Joshua's face was like the sun breaking through clouds. "That's more than I could have hoped for," he said softly. "Thank you, (Y/N). I promise you won't regret this."
As he turned to leave, pausing at the door to look back at you with eyes full of renewed determination, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were standing on the precipice of something monumental. Whether it was the beginning of a new chapter or the final closing of an old one remained to be seen. But one thing was certain – Joshua's persistence had finally broken through your defenses, and now, for better or worse, you were embarking on a journey neither of you could have anticipated.
The door closed behind him, and you sank onto your couch, emotions swirling within you. You picked up your phone, needing to talk to someone who could offer an outside perspective. Ranee answered on the second ring.
"Hey, what's up?" she asked, concern evident in her voice.
"I think I'm in trouble," you said, your voice shaky. "Joshua... he was just here. On his knees in the in the hallway," you continued, your voice barely above a whisper. "Begging me to give him another chance."
Ranee gasped. "Oh my god, (Y/N). What did you do?"
You closed your eyes, still hardly believing it yourself. "I... I let him in. We talked."
"And?" Ranee pressed, her voice a mixture of concern and excitement.
"And... I told him I'd be willing to listen. To take things slowly." You let out a shaky breath. "Ranee, what am I doing? Am I crazy for even considering this?"
There was a pause on the other end of the line. When Ranee spoke again, her voice was gentle. "You're not crazy, (Y/N). You're human. And whether you want to admit it or not, Joshua was a huge part of your life. It's natural to have conflicting feelings."
"But what if I'm making a huge mistake?" you asked, voicing the fear that had been gnawing at you since Joshua left. "What if he hurts me again?"
"That's always a risk in any relationship," Ranee pointed out. "But let me ask you this – do you think you'd regret it more if you gave him a chance and it didn't work out, or if you turned him away without ever knowing what could have been?"
Her question gave you pause. You thought about the past five years, about the life you'd built for yourself. It was a good life, comfortable and safe. But there had always been something missing, a void you'd never quite been able to fill.
"I don't know," you admitted. "I just... I'm scared, Ranee. I worked so hard to move on, to be okay without him. What if letting him back in undoes all of that?"
"Then you'll pick yourself up and move on again," Ranee said firmly. "But this time, you'll do it knowing you gave it your all. No what-ifs, no regrets."
After hanging up with Ranee, you sat in the quiet of your apartment, mulling over her words. Your eyes fell on the bouquet Joshua had brought, still sitting on the table where he'd left it. Despite everything, a small smile tugged at your lips. He'd remembered your favorite flowers after all these years.
Your phone buzzed with a text:
From Joshua: "Thank you again for giving me a chance to explain. I meant every word I said tonight. I'll wait as long as it takes. You're still the one, (Y/N). Always."
You stared at the message, your heart racing. Slowly, you typed out a reply:
To Joshua: "I meant what I said too. Slow. I need time to process all of this."
His response came almost immediately:
From Joshua: "Of course. We'll go at whatever pace you're comfortable with. I'm just grateful for the opportunity. Sleep well, (Y/N)."
As you got ready for bed that night, your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. Part of you was terrified of the vulnerability that came with opening your heart again. But another part, a part that had been dormant for far too long, felt a flicker of excitement at the possibility of reconnecting with Joshua.
The next few weeks were a delicate dance of tentative steps forward and cautious retreats. True to his word, Joshua respected your need for space, never pushing for more than you were ready to give. Your interactions started small – text messages exchanged throughout the day, brief phone calls that gradually grew longer.
Then came the coffee dates. The first one was awkward, both of you unsure of how to act around each other after so much time apart. But as the weeks went by, you found yourselves falling into a comfortable rhythm. You talked about your lives over the past five years – your career advancements, his travels, the lessons you'd both learned.
One afternoon, as you sat across from Joshua in your favorite café, he looked at you with an intensity that made your breath catch.
"What?" you asked, suddenly self-conscious.
He shook his head, a soft smile playing at his lips. "Nothing, I just... I can't believe I'm here with you. There were so many times over the past five years when I thought I'd lost this chance forever."
You felt a familiar pang in your chest – a mixture of old hurt and new hope. "Joshua..."
"I know," he said quickly. "I know we're taking things slow. And I respect that. I just want you to know how grateful I am for every moment I get to spend with you."
His sincerity was almost overwhelming. You found yourself reaching across the table, your hand covering his. It was the first time you'd initiated physical contact since he'd come back into your life, and you felt him tense in surprise before relaxing into your touch.
"I'm grateful too," you admitted softly. "I won't lie – there's still a part of me that's scared. That's waiting for the other shoe to drop. But... I'm glad we're doing this. Whatever 'this' is."
Joshua turned his hand over, interlacing his fingers with yours. "It's whatever you want it to be, (Y/N). I'm here for as long as you'll have me."
As the weeks turned into months, you found yourself slowly letting your guard down. The walls you'd built around your heart began to crumble, brick by brick. Joshua was patient, attentive, and consistently present in a way he hadn't been towards the end of your relationship five years ago.
But it wasn't all smooth sailing. There were moments of doubt, of old hurts resurfacing. Arguments where past grievances bubbled up, threatening to derail the progress you'd made. But unlike before, you both made a conscious effort to communicate, to work through your issues rather than letting them fester.
It was during one of these conversations, late one night as you walked through the park where you'd first met, that Joshua stopped suddenly, turning to face you.
"(Y/N)," he said, his voice serious. "I need you to know something."
You felt your heart rate quicken, a mix of anticipation and anxiety coursing through you. "What is it?"
Joshua took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "I know we've been taking things slow, and I respect that. But I want to be clear about where I stand. I love you. I'm in love with you. And if you'll have me, I want to spend the rest of my life proving that to you every single day."
You felt tears prick at your eyes, overwhelmed by the intensity of his words and the emotion behind them. For a moment, you were transported back in time – to the day he'd first told you he loved you, to all the dreams and plans you'd made together. But this time, instead of fear or doubt, you felt a sense of certainty wash over you.
"Joshua," you said softly, reaching up to cup his face in your hands. "I love you too. I think... I think I always have, even when I was trying so hard not to."
The smile that lit up his face was brighter than any you'd ever seen. He pulled you close, his forehead resting against yours. "So where do we go from here?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
You took a deep breath, your heart full of hope and possibility. "Forward," you said simply. "Together."
As Joshua's lips met yours in a kiss that felt both familiar and thrillingly new, you knew that this was just the beginning. There would be challenges ahead, old wounds to heal, and new obstacles to overcome. But for the first time in five years, you felt truly, completely whole.
You pulled back slightly, your eyes meeting his. A whirlwind of emotions coursed through you – love, frustration, happiness, and a touch of amused exasperation. Joshua's persistence had not only won him a second chance but had also reignited a love that had never truly died. As you stood there, hand in hand in the park where your story began, the future stretching out before you, a realization hit you.
"DAMN YOU, JOSHUA HONG!" you exclaimed suddenly, causing him to jump in surprise.
His eyes widened, a mix of confusion and concern crossing his face. "What? What's wrong?"
But before he could say anything else, you grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him close again. "Damn you and your persistence," you murmured, a smile tugging at your lips despite your words. "Making me fall in love with you all over again."
Relief and joy flooded Joshua's features as he understood. "I told you I wouldn't give up," he said softly, his arms wrapping around your waist.
"Well, congratulations," you replied, your tone a mixture of sarcasm and genuine affection. "You win. Are you happy now?"
The smile that lit up Joshua's face was answer enough, but he leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, "Happier than I've ever been."
With a playful roll of your eyes, you pulled him in for another kiss, this one deeper and more passionate than the last. As you lost yourself in the moment, you realized that sometimes, the most beautiful love stories are the ones that withstand the test of time and separation, emerging stronger and more resilient than ever before – even if they require a little (or a lot) of persistence along the way.
When you finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, you couldn't help but laugh. "You know," you said, intertwining your fingers with his, "if you ever pull a disappearing act like that again, I'll hunt you down myself."
Joshua grinned, bringing your joined hands to his lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "Noted. Though I have to say, I kind of like this feisty side of you."
"Oh, you haven't seen feisty yet, Hong," you retorted, but your eyes were sparkling with happiness.
And if this man ever forget how lucky he is? Well, you'd be more than happy to remind him – right after you kissed him senseless, of course.
pairing: joshua x gn!reader
words: 1147
tags: established relationship, vague references to a fight, i hesitate to call this hurt/comfort because there's honestly very little hurt, reconciliation, fluff
notes: even though this is technically the second real fic i've written since i decided to take up writing again, this is the first i'm posting so. i'm nervous. please be kind to me.
Your apartment is quiet. On any other day, it would be a welcome silence, a break from the constant, everyday noise. Today, however, the quiet weighs heavy upon you. You don't expect your boyfriend to be back tonight. Not after the exchange the two of you had. The words you shared felt too final to hold on to any hope that you'd be sleeping in the same bed tonight. You don't live together, not yet at least, but you've spent more nights together than not as of late. His absence makes the atmosphere feel uneasy.
It was a stupid argument that started over nothing. Unfortunately, any sort of conflict mixed with stress and exhaustion is a recipe for disaster— and disaster it was. It's a blur in your memory, the details fogged up by the slurry of emotions you felt in the moment. The one thing that is clear, however, is the sound of the door slamming behind Joshua as he walks out of your space. The sound of the door and the feeling of dread that washed over you the moment you heard it.
You love him. You've known that for months now. You also know Joshua loves you back, even though he hasn't said it out loud yet. Which, you realize, may have also been a contributing factor to your lashing out. You are well aware that you weren't as understanding as you could have been, but the agitation remains regardless. He wasn't all that understanding either.
You sit on your couch, staring at nothing in particular, thinking about nothing in particular. A decorative pillow lies in your lap, from which we you've been fiddling with a stray thread for the past who-knows-how-long, trying your best to keep yourself grounded and avoid any further spiraling. You've done enough of that tonight.
You're knocked out of your daze when you hear a noise at your door. Two possibilities run through your mind at the sound: Joshua is back or someone is actively breaking into your apartment. You're not sure which is more likely.
The former is proved correct when the door opens enough to reveal who is on the other side. Joshua enters as quietly as possible. If he knows you're there, he doesn't show it. You'd assume he's just as annoyed with you as you are with him, but the redness surrounding his eyes tells a different story. You feel your irritation begin to evaporate when you see the state he's in.
You're blatantly staring at him from the couch as he puts his shoes away. He freezes in place when he turns and catches your eye.
"I thought you'd be asleep," he says softly.
You shrug. "Wasn't really tired." Your eyes flick back to the pillow in your lap. You don't hear him move for a good few moments, but you can't bring yourself to look in his direction to see what's stalling him. You can only assume he's staring at you with the same intensity that you're staring at the pillow with.
Joshua breaks the silence again. "Can we talk?" It comes out as an exhale, tension evident. You're thankful he extended the olive branch. You know a conversation is the first step to solving the problem, but you're not sure you'd have done the same. Not because you don't want to make up— you're not that mad at him— but you've never been all that good with emotional talks, let along initiating them.
Instead of responding, you simply move over slightly on the couch, making room for Joshua. He breathes an audible sigh of relief, though his steps toward you are still soft and tentative. The couch dips slightly and you can feel his eyes on you. You, however, are still unable to meet his gaze, so your eyes stay trained on the pillow still in your lap.
"I'm sorry we fought." The statement is simple, but it's enough to get the ball rolling. "I'm sorry I made you feel like I don't care. Yes, I'm busy and my attention is constantly being pulled in a thousand different directions, but that's never an excuse. My worst fear has always been making you feel unloved, because that couldn't be further from the truth."
Your head snaps towards him, mouth parted in surprise. "Joshua…" You trail off. It's all you can muster right now, relief mixes with the residual frustration and leaves a muddled mess of emotions. It's his turn to look away now, suddenly very interested in his hands as they fidget in his lap. "I don't expect it to fix everything, I just thought you should know that I do. Love you, that is. I'm sorry it took me so long to say it out loud."
You feel a smile tug at the corners of your mouth. You huff a small laugh as you let it grace your face. "I could've handled it a lot better too. I know you've got so much else going on, I can't expect you to put everything else on hold just for me."
"You should though."
Another laugh bubbles up, "What?"
"It's what you deserve!"
"You have other obligations Joshua."
You notice his eyes have started to sparkle again, the evidence of tears a mere afterthought now. "I'm just saying! You deserve to be put first, everyone else comes later."
"Your job wouldn't be too happy to hear that."
"Then I'll be a househusband," he proclaims.
It feels good to laugh together like this, the atmosphere growing much brighter than before. You, too, feel less troubled. The heaviness in your chest finally dissipating.
As the giggles taper off, the two of you are left simply admiring each other with smiles on your faces. You reach over to take his hand out of his lap and give it a light squeeze.
"I'm sorry too. And I love you too. I'm… very happy to hear you say it."
"Then I'll say it a thousand times more if it makes you happy." He takes your hand and brings it up to his lips, leaving a soft kiss behind. "I love you."
Heat rises to your face as your smile grows even further. Seeing the effect he has on you, he takes his opportunity to bring you even closer. He leaves another quick kiss to your cheek and repeats himself once again. "I love you."
Your smile softens into something much more sentimental, before turning to something mischievous. Before he can react, you reach for the back of his head with your free hand to pull him in, leaving a peck on his lips. "I love you too."
He looks back at you with wide eyes, and it's his turn to flush. You're proud that you caught him off guard, but you're really just happy that you're smiling together again. You love each other. That's all you need to know.
Can I have joshua with an independent reader where she slowly showed her vulnerability towards him, like she confessed about her financially struggle or anything you like!!
Safe With You | idol!Joshua x Reader | fluff
“Are you okay?” Joshua’s voice was soft but firm, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of an answer you wouldn’t say out loud.
You exhaled slowly, gripping your cup of tea tighter. You hated this—being vulnerable, letting someone see the cracks in your carefully built walls. But Joshua had always been different. He never pried, never pushed, just waited patiently for you to let him in.
“I’m fine,” you said, forcing a small smile.
Joshua arched an eyebrow, unconvinced. “You know that doesn’t work on me, right?”
You let out a dry chuckle. “Yeah, I figured.”
Silence settled between you two, comfortable yet heavy. You weren’t fine. Not even close. Rent was due in a few days, your bills were piling up, and work had been cutting your hours. You’d always prided yourself on handling things alone, but this time, it felt like you were drowning.
Joshua reached out, gently brushing his fingers against yours. “Talk to me, Y/N. Please.”
You swallowed hard, staring at the table. “I just…” You took a shaky breath. “I’m struggling, Josh.” The words felt foreign, as if admitting them made them more real. “Financially, I mean. Work has been unpredictable, and I’ve been trying to keep up, but—it’s hard.”
Joshua’s expression softened, and he squeezed your hand. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
You shrugged. “Because it’s not your problem. I’ve always taken care of myself.”
He sighed, tilting his head. “That’s not how relationships work, Y/N. You don’t have to carry everything alone.”
You looked up at him, vulnerability evident in your eyes. “I know, but I don’t want to be a burden.”
Joshua’s brows furrowed. “You could never be a burden. Ever.” He let go of your hand only to hold your face gently. “Let me help, okay? I want to.”
You hesitated. “What do you mean?”
“I mean…” He took a deep breath. “I can cover your rent this month, or however long you need until you get back on your feet.”
Your eyes widened. “Josh, no—I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You’re not asking,” he said softly. “I’m offering.”
Your heart clenched at how easily he was willing to help, no hesitation, no expectations. “I don’t want you to think I’m with you for your money.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Y/N, I know you. If that was the case, you wouldn’t have waited this long to tell me anything.”
You bit your lip, torn between pride and relief. “I just… I don’t know how to accept help.”
Joshua smiled. “Then start small. Let me do this for you.”
You exhaled, nodding slowly. “Okay.”
His expression brightened, but then he hesitated, as if debating whether to say something else. “Actually… I’ve been thinking about something for a while.”
You raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”
He reached for your hand again, lacing his fingers with yours. “What if you moved in with me?”
Your breath hitched. “Josh…”
“I know it’s a big step,” he admitted. “And I don’t want you to feel pressured. But I love you, Y/N. I want to be there for you—not just when things are good, but when things get tough too.”
Tears welled up in your eyes at how effortlessly he loved you. “You really mean that?”
He squeezed your hand. “Every word.”
A few months ago, you would’ve refused. You would’ve insisted on handling things alone. But now? Looking into Joshua’s warm, unwavering gaze, you realized something—you didn’t have to do everything by yourself. Not anymore.
A tear slipped down your cheek, and you nodded. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
Joshua grinned, pulling you into his arms. “You won’t regret it, I promise.”
And for the first time in a long time, you truly believed that.
In which you’re the assistent of nightmare model Xu Minghao before resigning and becoming the assistant of rookie actor Kim Mingyu, who happens to be Minghao’s co-presentor on a show they’re shooting together.
pairing model!minghao x f!assistant!reader x actor!mingyu current word count 29.2K tags famous!gyuhao, assistant!reader, mean!dom!minghao, soft!dom!mingyu, power play, angst?ish?, love triangle?, toxicity warnings dubcon, smut, depictions of a toxic relationship, cursing, alcohol
Despite your choice of not wanting to repeat the same mistakes, you drunkenly call Mingyu up at 3 am.
pairing actor!mingyu x f!assistant!reader word count 5K tags dom!mingyu, sub!reader, pwp, light choking, making out, begging, neck kissing, marking, pain kink?gyu, back scratching, big dick gyu, oral (f), multiple orgasms (f), unprotected sex, creampie warnings smut, alcohol, cursing, angst, dubcon
a/n omg this took way too long but here she finally is! let me know your thoughts 🫶 thank u @miabebe for proofreading 🥺
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"I'm sorry!" Mingyu wails, letting out a pitiful whimper as he hastily blots your coffee stained jeans. There's a sad pout on his lips, honeyed eyes hooded apologetically.
"I'll buy you a new pair after this take, i'm so sorry y/n..." he sighs, slowly lifting his gaze to meet yours when he realizes he'll never get the stain out like this.
You chuckle. "It's okay Mingyu, one wash and it'll be as new." you assure him, watching him sigh again.
"I'm getting you a new one anyway, I don't want you to walk around like this the whole day," his warm hand presses against your thigh, just above your knee. The touch leaves you visibly startled, feeling his hot skin through the fabric.
"At least it's dry," he exhales, removing his hand before getting up to discard the tissues. Right, he was only checking.
A call of his name together with a knock on the door has him bidding you goodbye, walking out of the green room for his segment.
It's your cue for lunch. You walk through the halls of the rented house, the interior full of all kinds of filming equipment needed to perfect the dating show shot next door.
There's catering for staff in the living room, a pile of plates neatly placed next to metal chafers filled with different kinds of food. You decide on a wrap with a salad and a cookie.
A hand pats your back when you grab cutlery, turning to see Yuna with a bright smile on her face.
"You're still here?" you giggle, the short girl grabbing a plate. "Of course, it's free lunch." she sticks out her tongue at you, loading the porcelain with food.
You decide to eat together in Mingyu's dressing room. It would be a while before he's back, and the two of you are eager to spend more time together.
"Have you seen the contestants? They announced everyone on their instagram today." Yuna looks at you as she brings her fork to her mouth, chewing on a piece of meat. You shake your head, hearing her gasp dramatically.
She reaches for her phone, tapping away to find the show's profile that has accumulated well over millions of followers over the years.
"Here," she hands you the screen, your eyes scanning the group picture with Mingyu and Minghao standing in the middle.
"You know they don't have a phone in there? There's not even a clock. I would go crazy, I could never," she rambles, her lithe finger pointing to a tall, shy looking guy with glasses. "He's my favorite, Wonwoo, I hope he doesn't find anyone so I can get my claws on him."
Chuckling, you shake your head. "You and your love for losers." Yuna smirks, wetting her bottom lip. "I like them a little pathetic." she hums, easily finding the guy's profile through the tagged list. She's already following the guy.
"Aw man, his followers have doubled already?" she groans, comically pocketing her phone while rolling her eyes.
You grin and finish the remaining of your salad, opening the small cooler next to the couch for a bottle of water. "You're still off this weekend, right? I need to get drunk." you twist the top of your drink open, Yuna giving you a knowing look.
"Of course. You need it that bad, huh?" she chuckles, watching you nod before taking a big gulp of water.
"I told you you didn't have to, Mingyu." you cock up your eyebrow at him playfully, accepting the large bag he's urging you to take. You're sat in his car in the parking lot of his apartment, the day quickly over.
You look inside, expecting the new pair of jeans he'd been adament on getting you. Upon closer inspection you see a bouquet of white lilies instead, the pretty flowers hidden inside the fancy looking pastel bag.
"I-I didn't want to get you the wrong size so I got you a shinsegae giftcard..." Mingyu says shyly, your eyes then spotting the grey with gold decorated envelope inside.
"As for the flowers—I thought you might like them." he chews on his bottom lip, suddenly seeming in deep thought.
"They're gorgeous, Mingyu," you say softly, looking at him sparingly.
"Look, about yesterday," he frowns, scratching the back of his neck. "I can't stop thinking about it—about you... and I was hoping I could take you out on a date? Maybe... this weekend?"
Your mouth opens the slightest bit as you inhale a soft breath, eyes locked on him as he waits, looking unfairly beautiful in his uncertainty.
"I... I don't think that's a good idea, Mingyu." you murmur, gaze dropping to your lap. Out the corner of your eye, you see the faintest pout tugging at his lips as he slowly nods.
"I'm sorry. It's not that I don't want to—you're amazing. It's just... it'd get too complicated, Gyu."
You look up at him, seeing him nod. "I understand... It'd be complicated, for sure." he gives you a weak smile. "Although... I don't think I can only see you as my assistant anymore, y/n." Mingyu frowns. "But... I'll try my best," he forces a small, hopeful smile. "Friends?"
He straightens up in the driver's seat, eyes glistening sweetly as he looks at you, extending his hand towards you.
"Friends." you nod, shaking his hand. The two of you share a soft giggle at the awkwardness, but even in moments like this, there's an undeniable comfort in being with Mingyu.
You were luckily too busy most of today, the day packed with shoots and an interview Mingyu had with some of his former coworkers, an announcement of the netflix show he gained recognition from renewing for a second season.
There were some moments you felt flustered at Mingyu's close proximity, a little awkward even. Flashes of the night before crossed your mind, but you shamefully discarded them until now.
While you enjoy the night you shared, you know it was a mistake. You both crossed the line, and while there's no coming back from that you do have a choice not to repeat the mistake again. You don't want things to get complicated again.
Thankfully you have a few days off in the weekend. Mingyu's shoot are daily, but since they were the only schedule for him for the next two days it wasn't a necessity for you to come along all the time.
The next day rolls around swiftly, and once the sky has darkened you find yourself walking through the busy clubbing street. You had spend an hour doing makeup, and even bought a new, pretty outfit just for tonight.
Obnoxious club staff linger outside, trying their best to lure people inside with the promise of a free bottle.
send: where r u?
yuna: look in front of you
You look up from your phone to see Yuna meters away from you, excitedly waving at you. Successfully avoiding the young club staff calling for you, you make it to where she's standing. She engulfs you in a tight hug.
"Oh my god, I'm so excited." she squeals, linking your fingers together. You're standing to the side of a packed line, people waiting to enter the seemingly busy club Yuna picked out. She taps on a worker's shoulder, who seems to know her well by the way he happily greets her.
He quickly gives the two of you a stamp, signaling for you to go inside, skipping the line.
The bouncer doesn't bother to check your bag, merely nodding when he sees the obnoxious black stamp decorating your wrists.
"I haven't been out in a minute." you admit as you walk down the sticky stairs, the music getting louder as you near the bottom. The worker there shakes Yuna's hand, giving you a kind smile before you walk inside.
"Really? It's gonna be so fun. I know the owner so we can drink for free," she winks at you, pushing through the crowd to find a less packed spot towards the back. You giggle, your eyes struggling to adjust to the dark space.
You didn't notice before, but the same worker that greeted you at the door had followed you, now talking directly in Yuna's ear so she can hear him over the loud music. She nods, and the worker signals for the people sitting at a table to leave.
Yuna puts her hand on your back, urging you to the empty seats. "Let's have a few drinks first and then we can dance." she grins, sitting down across from you. You nod, looking around to find people dancing. Some are huddled in their own respective groups, others obviously flirting or even making out with each other.
The worker comes back quickly, carrying an ice-filled bucket together with a bottle of alcohol and cider. Once he sets it down he lights a bottle sparkler, your table lit up from the flame emitted.
Yuna and you giggle, slightly embarrassed by the fire. She pours you both a drink, mixing in the cider generously while you watch her.
"Cheers, baby." Yuna smiles, and you clink your cups together excitedly. "Cheers!" you take a sip, exclaiming in satisfaction.
After a few drinks and gossip you both find yourselves dancing with some random girls you befriended. You drunkenly chat with them for a while, and you even talk one up to a guy that caught one of the girl's eye.
When successfully setting the two of them up, a second bottle is brought to the table. The two of you drink together with the girls until you find yourself squinting to yourself in the bathroom mirror, realizing how drunk you've gotten.
The two girls happily welcome you once you've stumbled back, your eyes quickly falling on Yuna talking to some guy a few tables over. For some reason you start thinking about Mingyu, suddenly missing his presence.
The girls offer you some water, but that doesn't appeal to you right now. You pout, letting them know how you're feeling. The suggestion of calling him has your ears perking up, the idea seeming perfect to you despite it being 3am.
So, after saying goodbye to your new friends and Yuna, that's what you do. You're standing somewhere in a side street, faint music and laughter coming from the packed clubbing street as you press call on your blurry screen.
You let out a sigh, sitting down on a step somewhere as you wait for Mingyu to answer. It doesn't take too long, some rustling on the other end of the line before a tired voice speaks.
"y/n? Is everything okay?" his voice is raspy and low, and you can already imagine the frown on his pretty face.
"No..." you pause for a second. "I just miss you..." you lean your head against the concrete building next to you, eyes momentarily scanning someone walking by.
"Are you—did you drink?" he asks. You simply hum, shivering at the night's cool air.
"Where are you? Are you alone?"
You sigh, closing your eyes. "D'nno, 'm just sitting, Gyu..." you tell him. You groan softly, your head suddenly pounding.
"Can you send me your location? I'm picking you up, just—just stay there, okay?" the call ends after you hum in confirmation, clumsily taking way longer to share your live location than necessary.
Mingyu's familiar range rover pulls up in front of you quicker than expected. His tall frame emerges from the vehicle with a thick jacket draped over his arm, helping you up before carefully covering up your cold skin.
"Let's go." he whispers, a comforting smile playing on his red lips. You nod shyly, feeling his muscled arm around your shoulders to help you inside of the car.
"I c'n walk, Gyu," you snicker, his soft tracksuit brushing against you as he locks your seatbelt for you. You're entranced when you get a whiff of his shampoo, blended together with the faint, musky perfume he always wears still lingering on his clothes.
"You can barely talk right." he chuckles, shutting the door to get back behind the wheel again. You watch him drive to the main road, soft music playing from his speakers.
Mingyu takes pride in feeling your eyes watching his every move, turning his head for a moment to lock gazes. You sigh once you're caught, forcing yourself to watch the road instead. "Did you have fun?" he asks, licking his lips.
You hum. "Yeah, fun..." you nod in confirmation, playing with your hands to busy yourself.
"That's good to hear," Mingyu says softly, suppressing a yawn.
Except for the occasional humming next to you the rest of the drive is quiet, the roads almost completely cleared at this hour. Mingyu takes you to his apartment, not sure where exactly you live, but secretly wanting to take care of you anyway.
You don't seem opposed to it, walking alongside him to the underground parking lot's elevator, which is connect to the building.
"You look really pretty by the way," Mingyu casually notes, eyes raking over your frame. He'd never seen you in this kind of outfit before. The elevator dings, and the two of you get inside. A smile grows on your numb face, resting your head against his thick arm.
"You're pretty." you whisper, earning a warm laugh from him. "Hmn, thank you y/n." he says, looking at you drunkingly leaning against him.
"Not baby?" you almost pout, your arm wrapping around his, encircling his forearm.
He's quiet for a moment.
"Let's get you to bed, okay?" he says carefully, guiding you out of the elevator once the doors open on his floor.
His apartment feels familiar, yet it looks different compared to when the sun is out. The ambient lights cast a soft yellow glow on his furniture, burnt wax pooling on the stray candles decorated on the table in front of his couch.
Mingyu leads you to his bedroom, helping you sit on his bed. With hazy, unfocused eyes you tiredly lay down on his mattress, your legs dangling from the bed as he looks for a clean pair of pajamas you can change into.
"Can't you do it Gyu?" you pout when he hands you his clothes, big eyes peering up at him. Mingyu chews on his bottom lip before sighing, shaking his head when you fail to conceal a teasing grin. He plugs your phone into the charger for you before stepping back.
"You can change on your own, silly. Can't you?" he chuckles, turning to leave the room. "Noo..." you whine, sitting up. Mingyu turns with a frown on his face.
"I can't..." you sigh dramatically, toying with the fabric in your hands. He gives you a look. "'M sorry y/n. I'm not gonna do that... Have a good rest, okay? If you wake up before I'm back home please help yourself to some food. The fridge is stocked." Mingyu gives you a little smile.
"Good night." he adds, softly, leaving you alone in his bedroom.
"Fuck." you rub your pounding head, looking around the unfamiliar room in confusion. Your eyes widen when you remember what had happened the night before. You can't believe you called Mingyu at such a late hour, drunkenly telling him you missed him.
"I'm such an idiot." you whisper, sitting up. Mingyu, being the kind man he is, left you a bottle of water and some medicine on his nightstand before going to work, making you feel even worse about all of this. The poor guy probably slept on the couch because of you, tussled blankets on the couch confirming your suspicion when you walk out of his bedroom.
It's already way past noon, and Mingyu will probably be back soon from filming.
You decide to take a shower, removing the nice smelling clothes that smell of him before you turn on the hot water. While you wash your body you can't help overthinking everything. How you literally rejected him two days prior, only to confuse him like this right after. You're confused too, not able to ignore your pull towards him despite your rational decision to not go on a date with him.
Why was everything in your life suddenly so confusing? You still had some unresolved feelings left for Minghao despite everything, and now you can't stop thinking about Mingyu in a way you really shouldn't.
You shake away the thought, too hungover to think about all this now.
Because your outfit from last night was a little too skimpy for your liking, you decide to just put Mingyu's clothes back on. You remember him mentioning to just grab something from his fridge, fixing yourself a bowl of yoghurt and some strawberries.
The door opens as you're eating on the couch in silence, looking at him sparingly like a child that knew it was in trouble.
"Hi y/n..." Mingyu greets you, tossing his keys on the kitchen counter before approaching you. You can tell he's tired, even if he won't mention it himself. Mingyu hadn't been able to sleep much after picking you up, tossing and turning under the wool blankets folded up next to you.
"I'm so sorry." you immediately say, pouting as you put down your bowl. "I shouldn't have called you." you bite the inside of your cheek, watching him stand in front of you.
His demeanor makes you feel even shittier, obvious there's something on his mind.
"Are you... are you serious?" Mingyu sighs. "I don't mind picking you up, y/n. You can always call me." he tells you, clearing his throat. "It's just..." he sighs again, sounding agitated. "You can't reject me and then act like that." you gulp. "It's confusing." his jaw clenches.
You softly nod, keeping silent. His feelings are valid, you know they are.
"I know you want me too, y/n." Mingyu looks at you, his face blank as your stomach drops. "So whatever it is you think you're doing, just stop it." he breathes. His eyes cut into you, and you can't help feeling small because of it. It doesn't help he's only a short distance from you, your gaze unable to escape his.
"I'm sorry." you whisper, your voice shaky.
He only chuckles, and your body visibly reacts because of it. He slowly crouches down in front of you, surprising you by grabbing your chin. "Are you actually?" he asks you. You carefully nod, holding your breath.
"Then why don't you make it up to me?" he asks, cocking up his eyebrow. You gulp, nodding again.
Mingyu hums, his hand dropping. Instead he scoops you up from the couch, effortlessly throwing you over his shoulder before walking to his bedroom. He kicks the door shut, making you yelp when he throws you down on the mattress.
"I like having you here," he says while crawling on top of you, trapping you under him. "And I don't just mean in my bed." he gives you a quick kiss, looking at you for a beat.
"Are you still gonna keep quiet?" he tsks, his hand wrapping around your neck. "N-no." you stammer, your eyes widening at his sudden dominance.
"No?" he mocks you, applying a bit of pressure on your throat. "Then say you like me." he growls, his frustration from earlier evident.
"I like you, Gyu." you breathe, looking up at him. His grip is dizzying, your entire body growing hotter. Mingyu smiles, pressing his lips back against your mouth.
Your moans are muffled, kissing him back with the equal drive that got you in this mess in the first place. Maybe it was silly thinking you could ever control your desires, not when they were bestowed upon you like this. Not when you liked everything about Mingyu.
Mingyu lets go of your throat, his hand snaking under your shirt instead to cup a handful of your breast. Your tongue swipes his, your hands finding his shoulders. He kisses down to your neck, making you whimper when he sucks on your sweet spot.
"You look so pretty in my clothes," Mingyu sighs, softly biting your skin. He suddenly pulls the fabric up, the cool air of his room wrapping around you as he throws it down on the floor.
He's impatient, doing the same to your pants until you're completely naked. "You're not wearing panties?" Mingyu groans, forcefully pushing your legs open.
Heat rises to your cheeks, watching him admire the mess between your thighs. He has a tight grip on you, making it impossible for you to close your legs.
He doesn't waste much time, delving in and licking a stripe up your wet cunt. You moan the moment his warm tongue touches you, fruitlessly squirming under him.
Mingyu gets lost between your legs, groaning and moaning as he sucks and licks at your clit.
"Fuck–" you throw your head back, fisting the sheets under you. His nose stimulates you while he licks your hole, your slick coating his tongue as he slips it inside.
It sounds filthy, the way he's eating you out so loudly. You yelp when he pushes two thick fingers inside, lips wrapping around your clit again as he massages your insides skillfully.
You know you're not going to last long like this. Your fingers find his hair, holding on tightly as he goes faster. "Mingyu—k-keep going." you cry when he adds a third finger, curling his digits deep inside of you.
Your stomach tightens, your back curling as he just keeps going, fingers plunging inside of you repeatedly. "Fuck..." you whine, your thighs starting to shake.
The coil in your stomach snaps, cumming loudly as you pull on his hair. Mingyu slows his pace, letting you ride out your high before pulling his fingers out of you slowly.
You tiredly let go of his hair, watching him suck his fingers clean while looking at you.
"Tired?" he asks, pulling you down under him before trapping you under his weight. "Mn, yes." you sigh, catching your breath.
Mingyu chuckles, kissing you softly. "Me too. Something messed with my sleep last night," he whispers, slowly starting to grind against you.
"Sorry." you sigh blissfully, closing your eyes as pleasure overtakes you again. He plants warm kisses in the crook of your neck, urging you to wrap your legs around his waist. You open your eyes to look at him again, pulling him back against your lips as you lock your limbs around him.
Both your sharp breaths fill the room as you move, the feeling of Mingyu's crotch against you driving you crazy. You need more, and you need it quickly.
"Take these off," you urge against his mouth, pulling on the belt loop of his jeans. Mingyu nods, breaking the kiss to take off his shirt before doing the same to his jeans and boxers.
The sight of his naked body almost makes you dizzy, sighing as you drink him in. He’s truly so perfect, sculpted by the gods if you dare to think so. You're both exposed to each other again, and a sudden warmth creeps up your neck, feeling shy all of a sudden.
It hadn't been long since you slept together, yet you can't help the odd feeling creeping in the pit on your stomach. Mingyu hides a grin reading your demeanor, choosing not to mention it as he cages you underneath his body again, the silver chain he chose to wear today dangling from his neck.
He kisses your throat, slowly starting to grind back against you again. "No." you hiss, your hand finding his back.
"Want you inside, Gyu,' you squeeze his tan skin. "Now." you add, making him look back at you. "Oh?" he says, kissing the swell of your cheek. "Say please?" he wets his bottom lip, a cheeky smile forming on his face. You let out a staggered breath, feeling his hard cock rub against your wet core in slow movements.
"Please, Mingyu," you say shyly, gulping as he presses his groin against you even harder. "That's all?" he pouts, pausing as his brown eyes peer down at you.
"Fucking hell," you mumble under your breath, trying to catch his lips in a kiss to coax him to give you what you want already. Mingyu tsks, purposely rejecting your kiss to taunt you.
"I'm afraid that's not good enough, baby..." he chuckles, making your skin ripple at the pet name he's using, a subtle reminder of your drunken babbling just the night before.
"Please, Gyu. I want you," you whisper, growing more flustered. You bite your bottom lip. "Want you so bad," you push at his back to try to bring him closer, leaning in to give him a needy kiss.
Mingyu hums against your mouth, pushing your legs open wider with his knee, giving in easily. "Me too," he breathes after peeling his lips from you, a hand going down to grip his thick cock. He tugs on it a few times, the tip already leaking. You shudder when he rubs it against your hole, coating his tip in your wetness.
It burns as he slowly forces the tip in, a groan ripping from your throat at his size. Would it even be possible to ever get used to it?
You squeeze his shoulder, inhaling a deep breath as he pushes in slowly, stretching you even further. "Fuck," Mingyu hisses, his hot breaths fanning your neck. Your back instinctively curls when he bottoms out, the tip kissing your cervix as it's snugly nestled between your walls.
“Am I hurting you or can I keep going like this?” Mingyu asks, slowly pulling out before thrusting inside again. “Keep going.” you quickly say, nodding with your eyes closed. He groans, teeth grazing your skin while picking up the pace. You can’t help digging your nails in his skin, looking up at him through wet eyelashes.
“Keep doing that.” Mingyu breathes, his elbows digging into the mattress next to your face. “W-what?” you lock your legs around his waist again. A loud moan fills the air when you do so. “You can hurt me.” Mingyu tells you breathlessly, looking at you. Your jaw clenches, eyes rolling back when he goes faster, the sound of his pelvis smacking you echoing through the room. Your nails rake down his back, thighs squeezing his sides in pleasure. “Fuuck.” Mingyu moans, relishing in the feeling of you scratching him.
One of his arms goes down to cup your ass. He pulls you closer, simultaneously angling you to take his cock even deeper. “God.” you whimper, grinding back to chase his heavy length. Your body feels like it’s on cloud nine, pleasure overtaking you. Your tummy flexes with a particular deep thrust, making Mingyu moan again when he feels you contract around him helplessly.
“N-not gonna reject me again, huh? Gonna–fuck–gonna let me take you on that date, right baby?” he presses, his nose touching yours as he looks at you. His eyes are hazy, matching your glossy ones.
His thumb presses into your clit when you don’t reply immediately, making you whine. “Right?” Mingyu clenches his jaw, biting his lip to keep himself from cumming.
“R-right.” you moan, throwing your head back. Mingyu uses the opportunity to litter bite marks in your neck, nibbling and gnawing at any skin left untouched.
“You fucking better.” he growls, sucking a hickey on your throat.
“Gyu, shit,” you tighten your grip on him, leaving scratch marks on his sweaty back as you try to ground yourself.
He rubs fast circles on your clit, his thrusts turning shallow as more moans spill out of him. “‘M there baby.” he sighs, slotting his lips between yours. You nod in agreement, whimpering against his mouth as the coil in your stomach snaps. Bliss washes over you, your burning thighs flexing against him as warmth floods your cunt.
Mingyu releases a gutteral moan, fucking ropes of cum inside of you. He slows his pace, riding out his high before he comes to a halt. You sigh as he slowly pulls out, the weight of his body pressing into you when he rests his head in the crook of your neck.
As you relish the feeling he pecks tentative kisses in your neck, warm breaths fanning your skin as he catches his breath tiredly.
“Wanna nap…” Mingyu mumbles, a hand stroking your hair.
“Go nap, Gyu.” you smile, linking your arms around his broad back. He merely nods, no more words between you as he lulls to sleep rather quickly.
“Thank you,” Mingyu giggles when you hand him his iced coffee, keeping his eyes on you for a moment too long as you make yourself comfortable on the couch inside of his dressing room. You busy yourself with new emails you had to catch up on whilst you had your weekend off, tapping away on the laptop on your lap.
He says goodbye to you when a production staff calls him for his shoot, politely greeting other staff he walks by as they make their way over to the second mansion where the contestants resided, a collection of over a hundred cameras captioning their every move 24/7.
Mingyu can’t believe how quickly time has passed, only a few more days left until the show wrapped up filming for this season of the dating reality show.
He takes a big last gulp of his coffee, discarding the cup somewhere before taking his assigned spot in front of the still empty couch, minutes before the contestant would be called over for this morning’s gathering.
Yuna quickly does some final touches of his makeup under the bright lights, capturing his handsome face perfectly on the cameras.
Mingyu is in a good mood, and even when his co-host Minghao takes his spot right next to him he’s not bothered, his pretty head filled with thoughts of you, and the date he’d finally got to prepare for.
However, after the shoot he accidentally catches word of a rumor he overhears. A rumor consisting of you, his sweet assistant, allegedly having had a fiery relationship with his co-host and your former boss Minghao, the revelation having his blood boil.
Working for Kim Mingyu has been everything you’ve been dreaming of. When booking him a job that will only further his newfound success, you discover he’ll work alongside your devil of an ex-boss Minghao, who’s more than eager to ruin your little persuit of happiness.
pairing: actor!mingyu x f!assistant!reader wordcount: 8.8K tags: soft!dom mingyu, a whole lot of plot, drama, crying, minghao stirring the pot, some minghao mature? scenes, mingyu is so sweet, challenged morals, jealousy, poor y/n being in yet the same situation, teasing, unprotected sex, tipsy sex, multiple orgasms (f), manhandling, creampie warnings: smut, cursing, angst, alcohol, duncon
a/n: omg finally part 3? i love the introduction to mingyu and their dynamic! this is gonna be so messy
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Rumors are like a flame, they need fuel to keep burning—which wouldn't be such an annoying quote if it wasn't so true. After hastily quitting your job as Minghao's assistant, getting a new client has proven to be rather difficult.
After a near month of looking for a job you were at your breaking point. With no one to hire you and your expenses seeming to increase more every day, you were blowing through your saving fast. Maybe it was your fault for moving to the city centre, but with a job with a salary as good with being Minghao's assistant it wasn't a concern.
You've lost count the amount of times you've cried in the past weeks thinking about the situation you've gotten yourself into. As times passes you start to think it would've just been better to suck it up and endure everything instead of quitting. At least you would've had an income. Yet, even the thought makes you sick to your stomach. Minghao came onto you, it's all his fault, not yours—even if you did give into him.
You've gotten to the point where you're considering just applying for a retail job, the threat of not having any money becoming very real.
So, that's what you end up doing, having scheduled an interview as a seller at a department store. Minghao didn't lie when he said you'd never work in the industry again, sure to have opened his nasty mouth to blacklist you or something, how would you know how things like these worked? The asshole is out to get you even now, and sickeningly enough it seemed to have worked.
On the day of your interview the stars seemed to be aligned just for you, getting a sudden call from an actor's management team looking for an assistant. You go to get interviewed by them that same day, and you're hired on the spot. You walk out of the agency feeling giddy, a heavy weight lifted off your shoulders.
Sure, the actor is a mere rookie, and the pay isn't half as good as being Minghao's assistant. But at least you could do what you were good at again, and the actor's future seems promising enough, even if he won't end up booking major roles or becoming a worldwide icon.
You start the day after, your client Kim Mingyu busy promoting for a Netflix show he'd been a supporting cast member of.
Working for Kim Mingyu came easy for you, the man proving to be a humble and kind person. Not only is he incredibly talented, possessing the famous 'it factor' people always seem to talk about, he also treated you like a normal person, with respect. He makes sure you don't overwork yourself and go home on time, even if there were delays in schedules. He's charismatic, funny. He asks you about your life, your opinions. He's an amazing person, and you feel like you've hit the jackpot working for such a kind person.
But then something out of the ordinary happens. It was an important day for Mingyu: the release of the show. Sure, you’ve assisted him to a handful of interviews and events before the show’s release, but those didn’t compare to the actual premiere.
Mingyu is a handsome man, tall, lean, sociable. There’s no denying that. Yet, it seems you’ve underestimated the magnitude of his charms significantly. The premiere is busy, hurdles of people pooling around the gates to get a glimpse of the actors. Mingyu’s no exception, people yelling out for the chance of getting a picture or autograph.
You don’t realize the fact until hours after the event, social media blowing up with pictures and videos of Mingyu, praising him for his good looks and talent. Even your own algorithm is pushing him on your for you page, and people can’t get enough of the unfamiliar actor that suddenly seemed to have appeared.
After a little back and forth with Mingyu through text (who seems to also have underestimated himself) you decide it’s time to make some calls, taking advantage of the rise in fame before it dies down.
Technically it’s not your job to book him jobs, but you need this to work. If not for yourself then for Mingyu. There’s some chatter behind the scenes of an opening for a famous reality show, the show needing a new presentor after letting go of Kwon Soonyoung, the famous actor under fire for supposedly being unmanageable.
After your tip to the show’s producer you get a enthusiastic Mingyu on the phone only days after, sharing with you how his management had told him of the new high paying job, and who seems to have been responsible for the amazing opportunity. You tell him how it’s not a big deal, how you only want to be the best of help to him, but Mingyu insists on taking you out for dinner to thank you.
Once Mingyu and you enter the expensive looking restaurant your jaw nearly hits the floor, feeling underdressed with all the men in suits and women clad in expensive designer clothes. You’re escorted to the area outside, brought to a table overlooking the beautiful city. You’re right on time for sunset, the sky colored in purple and pinkish hues.
“What are we feeling for appetizers, y/n?” Mingyu looks up from his seat across from you, tanned hands gripping the menu before turning it around for you to see. Beef tartare, mango burrata cheese with basil, sea urchin roe, it all seemed so fancy. The whopping prices nex to the dishes’ names confirm your exact thoughts, silent for a moment.
You end up letting Mingyu pick most things, fine with anything eventhough it came with a pout insiting you’d at least pick half.
Once the sky is dark and you can see all the pretty lights in the distance you’re eating the mains, washing away your steak with some too expensive white wine. The dinner is nice, and despite you keeping it strictly professional you grow to like Mingyu more than you already did. You notice the way he talks to you like you’re his friend, and eventhough you know he’s only got good intentions you don’t let him get too close, mostly circling back to talking about work, which he obviously takes notice of.
“There’s no way he said that.” you laugh at Yuna’s lavish story, your hand flush against your mouth to hide your amused smile. Your friend has a telling grin on her face, organizing the makeup on the counter while happily continuing her tale.
Yuna is Mingyu’s main hair and makeup artist, someone you’ve known for a longer time ever since bumping into her at one of Minghao’s earlier gigs. You’ve been close ever since, and coincidentally you’re lucky to see her at most of Mingyu’s appearances.
“No I’m so serious. Like he actually straight up asked me if we can record me moaning for one of his shitty songs.” she giggles, shaking her head lightly while retrieving a small hair straightener from her suitcase.
“I’m telling you y/n, don’t even date producers. They’re so icky.” her body visibly shivers, glaring at you through the reflection of the mirror in front of you. Your face twists in laughter again, exhaling a long breath before checking today’s schedule on your phone for the nth time.
Your friend straightens her posture once all her equipment is laid out, elbow lightly poking you. “So, what about you. Anyone on your roster?” she winks, hand finding your shoulder to lean on you. She peers down at your screen, watching you observe the packed agenda.
“Me?” you say after being in thought, shoving your phone in your pocket before glancing at her side. “Nope.” you smile, watching her cock up her eyebrows. “You better not get involved with one of your higher ups again, girlie.” she almost sings, teasing you.
You roll your eyes, chuckling. “I’ll never make that mistake again.” you say, making sure your volume is low. Yuna hums. She’s the only person who knows about your thing with Minghao, if that’s what you can even call it. Obviously she doesn’t know of all the details, but just enough to know how horrible your previous boss (fling ?) was to you.
While it wasn’t a secret Minghao is difficult to work with, you’d rather keep the magnitude of his abuse a secret. It’s even embarrassing you endured it that long, happy to have gotten out of it without even further troubles.
You watch Mingyu approach from a distance, his previous casual clothes replaced with a stylish and neat outfit for the pre-shoot. There’s no actual filming today, but all crew and staff are present to get familiar with the set and filming style. Mingyu has been busy prepping the last weeks, studying the script handed to him in advance.
You could tell he was nervous, the reality show style different from his usual acting gigs. You’re all at an expensive villa, a whole lot rented out next to the actual house where shooting will take place.
“Good morning! Good to see you again.” Mingyu happily greets Yuna, who kindly welcomes him in his seat for the next hour.
While you’re off making phone calls and answering emails off to the side somewhere, an eerie feeling creeps into you, seeing a shadow move just out of your peripheral.
When you look up your blood runs cold, suddenly face to face with someone you hoped to never see again.
He’s dressed in a beige cardigan, the top unbuttoned to expose his chest. His hair is the same as it was before, longer in the back and perfectly styled. He has faint eyeshadow blended around his eyes, which make his sharp eyes stand out even more.
“y/n, we meet again.” Minghao grins down at you, cocking his head to the side as he eyes you. He doesn’t seem to share the surprise vivid on your face, an amused look painted on his.
You clear your throat, hoping he doesn’t see how nervous you’ve become. Why is he here? And why is the universe punishing you yet again?
“Minghao.” your voice cracks, and you feel your face heating up in embarrassment.
“Found a new job, huh? That’s funny.” he chuckles meanly, sounding stunned at the realization. You’re sure he’s got something to do with your difficulty in landing a new job, your jaw clenching in fury.
“Well, anyways. This is gonna be fun, won’t it be y/n?” he smiles, a glint of mischief in his eyes. He then lowers to get closer to you, lips nearing your ear and his voice low. “You won’t run so rudely this time, will you?” his breath fans the side of your face when he speaks, sending goosebumps down your skin.
He straightens back up again, looking down at you trying not to glare at him. “Bye, Minghao.” you only say, pushing yourself up from your seat to get away from him. Your head spins as you walk through the halls, hoping to find Mingyu quickly.
You try your best to keep your calm, your senses heightened and body tense from the short encounter.
“y/n! What do you think? Yes or no to the lip tint?” Mingyu smiles when you enter the room, turning in his seat while pouting his lips to show off his makeup to you.
Your frantic eyes move to his, silent for a moment as you try process the words you barely heard in the heat of the moment.
“y/n? You look a little faint.” He comments, grabbing an unopened water bottle from the vanity in front of him. He twists open the cap, handing you the chilled water with his hand lingering on yours to urge the bottle up for you to drink. Yuna’s eyes are on you as well, frowning at you. “Are you feeling sick?” she pouts, still holding the lip tint applicator between her manicured fingers.
“Thanks. Yea—no, I’m fine.” you urge, putting the water bottle back on the table after taking a few generous gulps.
Once Mingyu is taken somewhere else for god knows what you’re alone with Yuna again, a moment of free time before moving to the set and the start of the pre-recording begins.
“I didn’t know he was the co-host. My god are you okay, y/nnie?” Yuna worries next to you, taken aback just by how silent you’ve become after explaining what happened. While she still doesn’t know just how horrible Minghao’s been to you she can tell there’s more to the story, yet thankfully doesn’t push for more information.
You sigh, sinking deeper in the couch below you. “Yeah, just surprised.” you watch her glide her fingers through your hair in comfort, playing with the strands for a while.
“Mhm you must be. But it’ll be okay, hm? He’s got a new assistant to bully now.” she chuckles sadly, observing you. You just nod, the thought not comforting you in the slightest. Is he horrible to them too? would he pull the same thing he did to you?
The day feels long with Minghao in the back of your mind, and despite never being too far from him once him and Mingyu start their rehearsal, you thankfully don’t end up alone with him again.
“You sure you’re not sick? I can just ask to bring someone from the company with me instead tomorrow?” Mingyu briefly glances at you as he makes the drive to his apartment, stubbornly insisting on him driving as you ‘need to take it slow’, or so he said.
You chuckle. “I’m okay, Mingyu.” you tell him again as you’ve done multiple times. He could sense something’s wrong, your mood off even though you tried so hard to act like nothing’s up. You hate he can so easily tell you’re acting different, scolding yourself for letting Minghao influence you again.
“It’s okay, I can just-“ he says again. “Mingyu, really.” you laugh, cutting him off. “I think I just ate too much this morning, but I promise I’m okay now.” you explain, smiling. “I’m sorry I haven’t been as professional as usual today. It won’t happen again.” you promise, watching his face contort in a frown.
“I always tell you to drop the formalties. You’re allowed to have a bad day, y/n.” he glances at you, a serious look on his face. “Just treat me as a friend, okay? That’s all I want.” he says as he pulls up into his designated parking space, shutting off his expensive car.
He turns to you. “And you’ve been nothing but professional. You do an amazing job, always.” he watches you. “Even today, you felt bad and fought through it.” he sighs. “But please just—you don’t always have to be so tough. Just be my friend, please?” he relaxes in his seat, seeing you think for a moment.
You nod, watching the smile slowly creeping onto his face again. “You’re the reason I even got this amazing opportunity, I owe you so much.” he pouts a little, his pretty face almost looking silly like this, and a chuckle slips past your lips.
“You’re good at your job, Mingyu. It’s all thanks to you.” you take on a more serious tone, sincerely meaning every word you tell him. He smiles shyly, shaking his head. “Let’s just say we’re both good at our job, okay? But I still owe you, really.” his brown eyes seem to grow when he raises his eyebrows ever so slightly, the heartfelt words making you feel happy and warm inside. He really is amazing.
“Thank you.” you smile, a comfortable silence following as he chews his lips and looks around for a second, thinking about something.
“Do you wanna… should we get a drink? It’s my treat.” his curious eyes wait for your answer, tongue wetting his lips while giving you an innocent stare.
You laugh quietly, a nod of your head accepting the offer. Mingyu cheers, a smile on his face as he gets out of his car.
You end up at a drinking place together, sitting in a private room with a spicy soup simmering in the middle of the table. The server brings two pints of beer, and you happily cheers with Mingyu before taking a sip of the cold goodness.
Mingyu lets out a satisfied sigh after tasting the refreshing liquid, the glass of his beer clashing with the table when he sets it down. The mood is comfortable, and despite your strict covet of seperating work and your private life you find yourself not caring too much.
Minghao has made you put up your walls, yet the more you get to know Mingyu you don’t mind the shift in your acquaintanceship.
It’s comfortable chatting with Mingyu about anything, and you both share things like your background and dreams. Your beers empty quickly, and before you know it you’re on your third one, giggles echoing through the room when Mingyu spills his drink for the second time tonight.
You find out Mingyu is a funny and level-headed person, content with where he is in his life. He isn’t seeking too much, just to be happy and healthy. You can agree with him on a lot of things, your conversation constantly flowing.
A little bit tipsy, you decide to just open up to him, sharing the reason why you were feeling the way you were earlier today.
“You worked for Xu Minghao? How didn’t I know?” he frowns, talking with his mouth full of ramen. You giggle seeing a piece of food sticking to his lip, pointing to his mouth before speaking.
“Maybe you’ve already heard, but he isn’t really that nice to work for.” you sigh, lifting the glass to your mouth. Mingyu makes a sound to let you know he’s has in fact heard. “I heard him yelling when I walked past his dressing room, that poor girl working for him now…” he trails off, looking off to the side.
“Yeah, that’s Minghao...” you nod, holding the rim of your glass tightly. “It got to a point where I just had to quit, and when I did he told me how I’d never find a job in the industry again.”
Mingyu scoffs, shaking his head. “That’s terrible. But, you’re here now, and I’m happy you are.” he smiles, leaning closer to you from across the table. “If you want I’ll let the company know, maybe we can-“ “No, no. It’s fine.” you chuckle. “I can handle it.” you nod. Mingyu slumps a little, looking at you.
“You don’t have to handle it, it’s completely fine.” he sighs, pouting.
That makes you smile. “I appreciate it, really. But it’s fine.” you assure him, watching him pause for a moment as if he’s thinking before he finally gives in, nodding softly. “Okay, I trust you y/n.” he says, giving you a look. His kindness brings sudden tears to your eyes, quickly blinking them away. How embarrassing.
Mingyu’s eyes widen a bit, and he straightens his posture. “Hey, It’s okay..” he softly tells you, worry clear on his face as he makes his way over to your side of the booth, patting your hair soothingly.
The action only brings you to more tears, quietly sobbing and looking down at your lap in embarrassment. “Oh, y/n…” Mingyu coos quietly, putting his arms around you to pull you in his embrace.
“‘M sorry.” you whisper, your words met with Mingyu’s disapproval. “No, no, don’t be.” he rests his chin on the top of your head, hands stroking your back comfortingly. “Is this okay?” he lifts his chin from your head, suddenly worried about overstepping your boundaries. He puts it right back when you nod, humming reassuringly.
“I don’t know about all the horrible things he did, and you don’t have to tell me, but I’m here for you, okay?” Mingyu chews on his bottom lip, his heart shattering knowing how even talking about all this is making you emotional. “Thank you.” you whisper, sighing.
“We might need something stronger, don’t we?” he whispers, making you laugh. “We really do.” you answer, smiling when Mingyu lets go of you and presses the call button before reaching for a tissue.
Once you’ve finished sharing two bottles of soju you decide it’s time to go home, Mingyu walking you home to make sure you’re inside of your apartment before leaving.
The first day of shooting goes smoothly, a proud smile on your face watching Mingyu in his element. While he'd expressed his dislike for Minghao in a rather grumpy way in the morning, you'd say they were close friends with the way they perfectly play off each other before the cameras.
While the show is about all the different contestants getting to know one another with the intention of finding 'the one', it doesn't mean Mingyu as a presenter gets off easily. While the contestants are filmed from early morning till night, it's a little different for Mingyu and Minghao. They come in multiple times a day, in the morning and night.
It's their job to introduce group challenges, reveal who's going on a date with who, and initiate group conversations at the end of the day.
After the morning shoot you have a whole afternoon off until the night shoot, a calm and easygoing midday in contrast to the hectic morning. It'll be like this for some weeks until filming is complete, and you kind of like it. Sure, some days Mingyu has some other schedules and you'll be busy the whole day, but except for Minghao's presence being on set is laidback for you.
You're back in the spare villa used for storage and prepping, winding back in Mingyu's dressing room while he's shooting. You already finished all of your tasks of the day, following Mingyu's request of staying behind to avoid a certain person.
Knowing you work under someone who actually cares abour your wellbeing feels good, and even when knowing you're in close proximity with your former boss you don't feel as bad as you had the day before anymore.
Two hours pass, and you utter a sigh in boredom, playing with your fingers when laying on the comfortable leather couch. Figuring you'll check on Mingyu and watch the filming as they inevitably wrap up soon you push yourself up from your seat. You stretch for a moment, walking over to the door and reaching for the door handle.
There's shuffling behind the door, and it creaks open before you can grasp the metal to open the door. You expect to see Mingyu, but your mouth opens taken aback when you watch Minghao slipping through the crack of the door, using his shoulder to push the door shut again.
You can barely utter a word before he's already pushing his lips against yours, gripping your hips tightly when he has you pressed against the wooden door.
"Ming-" you gasp softly, your call muffled by his hungry kiss. He's impatient with it, fingers pinching into your sides when you don't kiss back. "Minghao." you say sternly after turning your face away to break the kiss, slapping against his chest to get him away from you.
"What." he presses, now going for your neck where he hastily presses his lips to your skin like he's famished. He traps you against his body, feeling his fingers squeeze a handful of your ass.
"Stop it." you push him fruitlessly, the taller man scoffing before pushing his lips back against you again. "Acting like you weren't begging for my cock," he mumbles between kisses, pushing his crotch into you before forcefully grabbing your chin, keeping your face still for him.
"Like you weren't crying asking for me to hit you," he quips, his words and touches making you feel hot inside. A soft groan gets ripped from your throat when he kisses you harder, feeling his tongue dominating yours. You can't help kissing him back, lost in Minghao again like he's got some kind of spell on you.
You're lost in a daze, the quixotic familiarity deceiving you once again, leading you astray as it had in the past.
Once Minghao's fingertips sneak its way past the waistband of your jeans, touch burning into your skin, there seems to be a cohesive thought forcing its way past your consciousness. What you're doing is wrong, and you have to put an end to it before you let yourself get carried away yet again.
The palms of your hands are resting against his chest, fingers starting to dig in his skin as a warning before you pull away, breathlessly looking at Minghao. One of his hands slide down inside of your jeans and panties, groping your bare bottom.
You try to force your way out of his grasp, but Minghao just grabs your wrists with both hands, pushing them into your own chest as his body remains pressed against yours.
His breath fans your face with the close proximity of his face, dark eyes scanning you closely. “Don’t you miss me too?” he says softly, his tone gentle in contrast to before. You avoid eye contact with him, staying silent. Minghao only laughs at you, giving your wrists a mean squeeze before letting go.
“I’ll see you soon, baby.” the corner of his lip tugs up, watching you for a moment longer before he finally leaves, the sound of the door closing echoing through the room.
You’re left alone with your thoughts, an uneasy feeling creeping into you. You hate Minghao, but out of all things what’s most disturbing is you still feel a want to be close to him.
You can’t ponder on it for too long, Mingyu happily greeting you only minutes after Minghao’s departure.
“So,” the tall man starts, scratching the back of his head. “I know it’s late and you’d rather go home, but the director just mentioned a crew dinner.” he pouts, just as eager to go home. So that’s what Minghao meant with soon.
You know you kind of have to go with the work culture you’re in, and Mingyu knows it all too well too. So, after Mingyu changes back into his casual clothes you end up at a barbecue restaurant in the area.
You're sat between Mingyu and the production coordinator, Minghao thankfully seated somewhere across from you, too far away to have to talk to.
Throughout the otherwise fun dinner you can feel his heavy eyes observing you, watching you interact with the people around you. Once a few shots of soju enter your system you happily chat away, socializing with the kind staff, and you actually end up really enjoying yourself.
There's a moment you lock eyes with Minghao, who just winks at you while getting praised by people left and right, discussing his booming career shamelessly. You try not to roll your eyes, Mingyu somehow taking notice of your newfound irritation. He silently giggles next to you, his built frame unconsciously leaning closer to you.
After another unbearing conversation about Minghao you take another shot of soju to cope, Mingyu watching you with a small smile. He leans even closer, voice not at all low when he attempts to whisper. "I don't feel so good," he tells you, earning the attention of an elder female staff across from him. "Aigoo Mingyu-ssi, you have to rest! Take some medication and go to bed quickly." she presses, cooing worriedly.
Mingyu lets out a puff of air, pouting sadly. "But I'm having such a good time." he chews on his lip, the producer joining in and telling him to listen to his body and sleep soon.
"Are you okay?" you ask him again once you're walking out of the building towards a random taxi, his sweet giggles surprising you.
"Yeah, I am," he opens the door of the taxi to let you go in first, following you and telling the driver his address. "I feel fine I just wanted to leave." he admits, grinning while putting on his seatbelt.
This makes you laugh, watching the smile on his face grow. "Are you tired?" he then asks, squinting as he waits for your reaction. Maybe it's because of the alcohol in your body, but you feel giddy watching him act so playful.
You shake your head, a small smile on your face waiting for his next question. "If you want we can have some drinks at my place?" he cocks up his eyebrows, face softening immediately after. "But—it's fine if you don't want to..." he trails off, waving his hands with that sweet smile right back on his face.
Despite the promise of not getting too close to your boss again you find yourself saying yes, the heavy words of Mingyu asking for you to be his friend lingering in the back of your mind.
You established Mingyu is a good guy, kind, with no bad intentions. Yuna and everyone around you have made a point of this, boasting about how genuine the man has always been.
Mingyu's aparment isn't unknown territory, but getting comfortable on his leather couch seems more difficult than you'd thought. There's an expensive bottle of wine on the table in front of you, the tv illuminating bright colors in the background of your conversation.
You swirl the glass before taking a modest sip, letting the berry and peppery flavors mix in your mouth.
"Tomorrow will be fun, the morning shoot will probably be less than a few hours," Mingyu continues chatting with you about the gig, bearing a happy expression on his face.
"There is that interview in the afternoon though," he tilts his head to the side, biting his lower lip. "Things are getting so busy there days." he chuckles, taking a gulp of his drink.
You smile, looking down at your glass. "Of course. People love you, you're still trending everywhere." you tell him, watching Mingyu think for a moment.
"You're literally all I see on tiktok." you let out an amused huff, your lips slightly parting when realizing that's maybe just thanks to your algorithm.
"Oh?" you hear him laugh next to you, shifting in his seat to put down his glass. "Can I see? I don't have Tiktok." he moves a little closer to you, his long arm already reaching towards your phone resting on your lap.
"Yeah you want to? People are really creative you know," you unlock your phone, looking up to see an excited face in front of you. You go to the app, typing in Mingyu's name to see a bunch of edits pop up.
You move your phone so he can watch with you, mentally cursing yourself when near every video is a thirst edit of the handsome man sitting next to you.
Mingyu seems interested in all of them, curiously scrolling through a bunch of them.
You know this was a bad idea when a sudden tinder notification pops up, the app making a rather frantic attempt to get you back on again. Mingyu gives you a mirthful look, making heat rise to your face.
He giggles watching your face comfort in shame, snatching the phone from your grasp.
"Mingyu!" you whine, seeing his tongue peek out when he clicks the notification, more than eager to see what's on there. "Ah, y/n." he whines, pouting at you. "Let me see your profile..." he begs, holding the phone to await your approval. You laugh out loud, shaking your head hyperactively.
"No way." you deny, trying to get your phone back. Mingyu moves it away from you. "Come on." he smiles, laughing at you trying to actively grasp the object from him. "Let me see your matches at least." he whines, a glint of mischief in his eyes when you sigh and give in.
This goes on for longer than you'd hoped, the two of you at a close proximity on your second glass of wine, judging the silly captions some of these men have.
"This one only has his instagram name in his bio," Mingyu tsks, shaking his head. "Why did you even match with him?" he teases, making you sigh. "I don't know." you admit, eyeing the pictures Mingyu's tapping through. "Why didn't you reply to any messages? Are you dating someone these days?" he finally hands you your phone back, and you let yourself relax back into the couch.
"Me?—no." you chuckle, watching Mingyu frown when he spills some wine on his white shirt after taking a sip. He wipes the fabric with his fingers, looking back up at you with said frown. "Oh? Why not?" he sounds genuinely confused, and you wonder if you've ever given him a reason te believe so.
"Um," you shrug slowly. "I'm busy." you decide to tell him, not really even knowing the answer yourself. "I dated someone last year when I worked for an idol, but he cheated on me." you roll your eyes, chuckling. Memories of your past relationship feel like a lifetime ago, the image in your head foreign and blurry.
Mingyu clicks his tongue, sighing dramatically. "What a dick. I know what that feels like, it probably really messed with your brain, hm?" he pours himself another drink, settling back against the couch with a content hum.
You just smile. "Yeah, at least at first it did. But I guess I wasn't that emotionally invested anyways, so," you shrug again, watching him when he takes another sip.
The man next to you nods understandingly, thinking for a second. You turn to face him better, leaning in a little when you speak again, his words from earlier catching on. "You got cheated on too? You?" you near your eyes at him, confusion written on your features. The thought of someone cheating on someone as... perfect as Mingyu has you puzzled.
You imagine him being the ideal partner from what you've gathered. Caring, kind, handsome, tall. The same set of words you've thought before clouding your mind once again.
Mingyu smiles shyly. "Well, sadly that is pretty common, isn't it?" he thankfully doesn't seem sad, a pang of insecurity infiltrating you before he spoke.
Usually you don't really drink wine, and with only two glasses you decide you've had enough for the night, already feeling a little fuzzy. So you set the drink back on the table, feeling Mingyu's gaze following you.
"Do you want to know a secret?" the sudden question draws your attention, waiting for his next words nothing short of eagerness. He takes your expession as a yes, an amused huff of air exiting his throat.
"I'm kind of tipsy." he giggles, copying you by putting down his glass just like you did. You laugh along with him, pressing the palms of your hands against your warm cheeks.
"And I know i've already told you, but I really appreciate all that you do for me, y/n. Reaaally." he pouts, making you laugh again.
"Why don't you ever accept my compliments? I'm trying to compliment you so tell me thank you." he sulks, making you groan out loud.
"Thank you." you force out, keeping yourself hidden behind your hands safely.
Mingyu whines again, surprising you when you feel his hands gripping your wrists, making you look at him after pushing your arms down. "Almost perfect. Now sincerely accept my compliment." he grins down at you.
"Mingyu." you whine just like him, his sweet laughing hitting your ears again. "Thank you, y/n." he can't keep his smile contained when he dotes on you once again, only making you more flustered, avoiding his gaze.
"y/n. Don't be so shy!" he shakes you a little with his grip on you not faltering, lip quirking happily.
"Okay... Thank you Mingyu." you force yourself to look at him, having a hard time doing what he asks of you.
"Perfect." he smiles, finally letting go of you. You hide your smile, suddenly realizing how close he is now, too close for your liking. Or is it?
You think Mingyu notices too with the way his face neutralizes, yet he doesnt back away to his previous position like you'd expect him to.
His pink lips part slightly as to speak, but he closes them again before moving forward, slowly bringing them closer to meet yours, maybe to spot any hint of rejection from you before it's too late.
When he realizes you don't move away he softly presses his lips against yours, leaning into you uncomfortably from his seat. Mingyu can't care less about the awkward angle he's found himself in, too engulfed in finally kissing you.
The moment doesn't last very long, his lips away from you again once he realises what he's doing.
"Fuck. Am I—am I overstepping? Is this okay?" there is worry mixed with shock on his face, not believing he dared to give into his wants so easily after a couple glasses of wine, potentially ruining the comfortable relationship with his amazing assistant.
Your eyes widen a little, mind blank for a moment before you can process what just happened. You were right, you should've never let yourself become too friendly with Mingyu.
Despite the fleeting thought you stutter out a quick confirmation, telling Mingyu yes. It is wrong what's happening, but now that you've crossed a line with each other it doesn't matter anymore anyway, and right now what you want is to feel his soft lips back on yours again.
You find yourself initiating the next move by starting to lean in closer, giving into your sudden want but stopping when he straightens back up, big eyes looking back at yours.
"I'm so sorry, y/n. This is all my fault." he looks away for a second, not knowing what to do.
A twinge of hurt engulfs you. How dare he deny you now when he's the one messing with your head so easily, making you feel so many confusing things in mere seconds.
You don't think when you grab his thick arm, pulling him back on you to kiss him like you've been deprived of him for months, in truth only discovering how much you want him a moment before.
Mingyu kisses you back just as eagerly despite his earlier words, his big hands coming up to cradle the sides of your face. His hot tongue finds yours quickly, kissing you so perfectly it almost makes you moan right then.
His hand is on your waist to pull you on his lap while you're already moving to sit on him, your thighs draped over his in an instant. You hold onto his neck to keep yourself steady on top of him, a sudden groan ripped from his throat feeling you touch him.
Mingyu can't help getting turned on in an instant, one of his muscled arms wrapping around your waist to bring you even closer to him, feeling your body pressed flush against his. His other hand moves to rest on your ass, preventing you from moving.
The feeling of his firm chest and his meaty arms against you only makes you greedy, experimentally pushing your crotch into his. Mingyu's fingers squeeze your ass while he moans, cock twitching in his pants excitedly.
"Is this still okay?" Mingyu asks before kissing you again, pressing your hips back against his once you nod, moving against him eagerly.
Your hands move to his shoulders so you can kiss down to his neck, reminding yourself to be careful to not leave any marks despite wanting to so badly. You can feel the pretty sounds he makes right next to your ear, not staying silent whatsoever.
You squeal when he suddenly turns you around, laying under him in an instant and feeling his greedy mouth peppering kisses on your jaw. The weight of his body presses into you, his heavy breaths warming your skin as he grinds into you.
"Gyu." you say breathlessly, hands gripping his shoulders. Mingyu gives your throat a kiss, looking up at you after hearing the sweet nickname roll off your tongue. "Yes angel?" he says breathlessly, giving you a sweet peck.
"I want you." you tell him of your wants without shame, before you can think too much and swallow in the words you'd normally be too shy to share. Mingyu sighs and kisses you again, his hands pressing you into the the couch. "Me too.” he admits. “Are you sure?" he pushes himself up with the grip he has on your shoulders, taking a second to just look at you.
His brown eyes peer down at you, doing just that, making you shy again. You nod timidly, biting your lower lip all swollen from kissing. His mouth turns into an amused smirk, somehow loving the effect he has on you. He lets you marinate in the feeling for a bit longer just because he can.
The pads of his thumb find the bottom of his black shirt, swiftly peeling the fabric from his body.
He's left shirtless in front of you, your eyes taking in the perfect sight. You've seen his perfect muscled body before in the fan made edits you've stumbled across, yet it doesn't compare in the slightest to seeing it in real life. His skin is nice and tan, his thick arms and wide shoulders truly a sight to behold.
"Let me take you to my room, hm? Want you nice and comfortable," Mingyu fully pushes himself from the couch, easily lifting you in his strong arms. You gasp, your arms circling his neck while he holds you, carrying you to his bedroom.
He carefully puts you down in the middle of his bed, continuing undressing himself quickly until he's left in nothing but his dark boxers. You follow him, undoing the button of your jeans. Before you can pull the fabric off Mingyu yanks it down your legs, crawling on top of you and going back to kissing you.
You think you can spend eternity with his weight on top of yours, perfectly molded thighs tangled with yours.
Mingyu whines when you lock your legs around him, pushing your cunt against his hard cock straining his boxers, and fuck does he feel big. He takes off your shirt before his lips are right back on yours.
His skin is hot when you find his back, continuously rolling your groin into his. "Take it off," you tell him, your fingers going down to tug on his underwear. Mingyu helps you take it off, throwing them somewhere on the floor without looking.
His cock feels hard and heavy against your thigh, only feeding into your lust driven craze. He breaks the kiss again, leaning his forehead against yours. He looks at you, pausing to think of where he's left his condoms.
You get his full attention with a simple raise of your hips, both your moans heard in the room when his naked dick grazes your wet pussy, his weight back on you. Mingyu knows he should prep you first before sinking his thick cock into you, but he's way too horny to do so. You don't care, outwardly showing how you want him now.
One arm comes between your bodies, his hand gripping his length and coating his leaking tip with your juices.
Your head falls back into the pillow when he finally pushes in, slowly to at least spare you in some way. He feels big, bigger than anything you've ever taken before. He inches in gradually, kissing the corner of your eye collecting tears.
"Please move." you choke out, your cunt squeezing him for all he's worth. Mingyu's elbows press into the mattress next to your face, slowly withdrawing his hips until only the tip remains. When he pushes his full length back inside of you you moan loudly, your nails leaving cresent shapes on the skin of his shoulders.
"Y-youre so big, Gyu," you breathe out, eyes shut from the burning stretch. Mingyu's already moving slowly, but your words make him fully pause again. "Is it too much? Do I need to stop?" his thumb strokes your cheek, pretty eyes worriedly looking down at you.
"No." you shake your head. "Please k-keep going." you urge, a moan ripped from your throat when he immediately obliges. The drag of his cock against your walls feels so good, the sting it leaves only making you grow hotter.
Mingyu pulls up your hips slightly, angling them so he can go even deeper, rolling his body into yours. Another loud whine fills the air, and Mingyu bites his bottom lip hearing you moan for him. His tip bumps your sweet spot every time, making you rock back against him to chase that feeling.
"Tell me how if feels, y/n." Mingyu urges, kissing your cheek before pushing his face in the crook of your neck. You feel his teeth nip at your skin, his breath fanning your hot skin. "I'm gonna cum soon." you breathe out, sighing blissfully.
Mingyu starts thrusting into you faster, pushing for you to cum. You feel his fingers play with your clit, circling the pulsing nub for only a second before you feel yourself reach your high, holding him tight as you cum embarrassingly fast.
Mingyu kisses your neck sweetly, listening to your moans and feeling your cunt squeeze him almost painfully. "Good girl, you did so well." Mingyu kisses your bottom lip, slowly pulling out of you. You whine tiredly, feeling so empty all of a sudden.
"I wanna go again." you look up at him, grabbing his wrist to keep him from moving. Your eye catches sight of his cock for a moment, big and still as hard as before. You look back at Mingyu, seeing the smile on his face. "Aren’t you tired, angel? You should get some rest." he chuckles, his free hand stroking your thigh.
You shake your head. "Please. I want to." Mingyu looks at you for a moment, sure to read the desperation written on your face. Then he nods, a small grin appearing on his face. Mingyu doesn't want you feel bad for coming so quickly, when in reality it turns him on even more. Just knowing how easily he made you come undone, fuck. He only wishes to do the same over and over again. Mingyu doesn't care too much about his own relief, more than eager to please you until you've had enough of him.
"How do you want me, baby?" Mingyu's hand finds his hard cock, slowly pumping the length.
"Don't care. J-just want you to use me to get you off, please." your cheeks get hot after your confession, gulping shyly. Mingyu curses under his breath, slowly discovering how you seem to both have a thing for pleasing.
"Do you really want that?" he asks lowly while looking at you, leaning in even closer. "Yes." you nod, gasping when he responds by sliding his cockhead through your wet folds. Before you know it your legs get tossed over his shoulders, his heavy body caging yours when he slides in, folding you. You moan loudly having him back inside of you again, eyes rolling in the back of your head feeling him fuck you quickly.
Your hand finds his hair, pulling on the short strands to bring his face to yours. There's a fleeting thought of Minghao crossing your mind, how you loved to play and pull at his long hair, but once Mingyu messily kisses you again you quickly end up forgetting. As if he can read your throughts he grabs your wrists in his large hands, pushing them against the mattress while he looks at you, ragged breaths leaving his mouth.
The angle drives you crazy, the tip of his cock meeting the deepest parts of you. "You feel sooo good," Mingyu comments, groaning when it entices another squeeze of your tight cunt. "Can u feel me stretching you, baby? 'S driving me crazy." he groans again. You force a nod, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure.
"I-I'm almost there, Gyu." you cry, feeling his fingers tighten on your wrists. "'M sorry. C-can't hold it anymore." you breathe, back arching into him when he only goes faster. "Fuck..." you bite your lip, not able to hold the sounds coming from your throat.
"Don't say sorry. Said u wanted me to use you, didn't u?" he gives your forehead a warm kiss. "Which means you'll be good till I'm done, hm?" he watches you lose yourself under him, forcing a nod once again.
"Yes!" you gasp, mewling loudly when his thumb suddenly presses into your clit.
"Then be good and come again." he massages the nub attentively, eyes focused on your pained face carefully. His nose presses into your cheek, the bottom of his lip trapped between his teeth. You can hear the soft gasps coming from him, brown honey eyes watching you as you come undone again.
Your legs twitch, your lower tummy burning from the orgasms ripped from you so easily. Mingyu slowly helps put down your legs, giving you a peck before he pulls his cock out of you carefully. Your mind is hazy, maybe from the wine, maybe from Mingyu, you don't know.
His body gets comfortable next to yours, placed on his side to press kisses on your hard nipple. Mingyu chuckles watching you slowly rock your hips, pussy spent and used, your body taking its time coming down.
He easily rolls you over on your side so you're facing him like he is, his hand firmly on your hip to keep you still. "Are you tired?" he asks you, rubbing the skin of your thigh with his thumb. Your bodies are touching, his firm chest pressing into yours. "No." you tell him, watching how he observes you.
When he doesn't reply you hook your thigh over his, immediately feeling his rock hard length against your entrance. "Do you want to cum in me?" you ask softly, moving your groin into him slowly.
Mingyu curses lowly. "You shouldn't say that." he tightens his grip on your leg, guiding his cock to your entrance. "Why?" you ask dumbly, hissing when he slowly enters you. He grunts pushing his entire length into you in one go, choosing not to answer your question.
Mingyu puts his arms around your body, holding you tightly while you moan together. You hold on to his pecs for support, relishing the feeling of his cock slamming into you so quickly. The sound of skin slapping fills the room, and you can't help your head falling back like you're a lifeless doll.
His mouth finds your neck, kissing and sucking on the skin like he's a man deprived. "Still want me to cum inside?" he mumbles against your skin, humming when you nod quickly. Mingyu rolls onto his back, bringing you with him. He lifts his hips from the bed, planting his feet against the mattress to fuck into you quickly.
The thought of Mingyu moving you around just how he pleases has you breathless. You feel like a broken record only moaning, but it feels so amazing taking his cock, his pelvis hitting your clit every time. You're sore, your cunt getting more sensitive the more he ruts into you, yet you really don't care. It feels good, and you wish you could feel him like this every day, eventhough you know you can't.
Mingyu tightens his arms around you so you can't move, finding your whining mouth again. You kiss fruitlessly, teeth clashing together and moaning against each other.
You stomach tightens, and you swear you can feel Mingyu twitch inside of you. You're close, ready to cum for a third time. When your gummy walls try to squeeze him for the nth time Mingyu groans loudly. "I'm cumming." he announces, breathing loudly. A string of moans leave your mouth once you feel his warm release spurting inside of you, the mere realization making you cum right after him.
Your pussy milks him dry, making sure he fucks every drop into your greedy cunt.
Once Mingyu tiredly slouches against the bed you notice how hot and sticky your bodies are. You keep him seated inside of you for a moment longer, too tired to move, and when you do you feel your mixed release collecting between your legs.
His strong arms pull you back against his body, cuddling you close to him with a sweet sigh. He looks so peaceful when you look at him, his eyes closed and his chest heaving tiredly.
While a part of you wishes to savor the moment and melt into Mingyu’s comforting touch, your sobering mind can’t help the anxiety from settling in your body. And right now, it’s telling you to flee as quick as possible.
The relationship between you and your boss gets more complicated every single day, and you can’t ignore the sudden feelings that are starting to develop, but maybe you won’t have to.
pairing model!minghao x assistant!f!reader word count 7.2K tags exhibitionism, unprotected sex, marking, punishment, masturbation (f&m), handjob, cum play, sex backstage, morning sex, shower sex, face slapping, choking, some cute moments tho, fluff? dates, walks past the river, reader is starting to feel some things, hao can be nice, bickering, arguments warnings smut, cursing, depictions of a toxic relationship a/n this took sooo (too) long to write but im happy with how it came out! let me know ur thoughts :3
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You try to rationalize what you're doing while Minghao pushes you against the now closed door, immediately shushing you with his lips before you can try to open your mouth to speak.
His hands find your waist, keeping you locked against the cold door in the dark closet while you messily make out with him.
Somewhere you know it's wrong what you're doing with Minghao, letting him seduce you into a storage room with loads of staff nearby just minutes before walking a show. It seems like ever since last night logical thinking doesn't seem to be your thing anymore, knowing damn well you shouldn't have let it happen in the first place.
Minghao likes your change in behavior towards him. You seem even more shy since last night, stumbling over your words at the simplest things. He likes it this way, having you so submissive, so dumb. Like you're a silly girl who makes a fool of herself in front of her crush. It's the whole reason he's dragged you in here in the first place, loving how you can't even look him in the eyes anymore.
"Y're such a cute slut." Minghao purrs against your lips, his fingers finding the button of your jeans. You break the kiss when he opens the clasp, biting your lip at the feeling of Minghao's mouth immediately moving to your neck. "Did such a good job covering that mark," he chuckles before sucking another spot into your skin, making you groan at how harsh he's being biting at your throbbing sensitive skin.
"You have to go back." your remind Minghao, putting your hands on his shoulders to push him away. "I have like ten minutes," he pushes your pants down hastily, not moving away from you. Your face grows hot knowing there's another obvious mark in your neck. You tried so hard to successfully cover the one from last night, using some makeup Minghao had lying around in his bathroom.
You whine when he moves to a spot on your throat, his teeth scratching your skin while he sucks down. "Minghao don't..." you tell him, pushing your head back against the door. Minghao pulls down your panties, his finger softly teasing your clit. You hiss at the impact. "You should listen to your boss y/n." his free hand grips your hip, and you feel another sharp sting when he leaves another hickey right next to the last one. How were you even going to hide this?
Minghao surprises you by turning you around, your chest pressed against the hard door. "Don't you want everyone to know what a good whore you are for me?" he says with a smile, the sound of his belt clanking catching your attention. "Minghao... people will hear." you swallow a lump in your throat, tensing at the thought of others walking by on the other side of the door.
"And?" he replies, rolling his eyes. You gasp when you suddenly feel his tip pressing against your wet hole, Minghao's hand coming up to fist your hair, tugging your head back against his shoulder. You moan when he pushes his length into you slowly, his lips going back to prep kisses in your neck while he starts thrusting, savoring how tight you feel without any foreplay.
Surely people were looking for him now, his role as the opening model earning him some kind of special treatment, the designer barely leaving his side for the past few hours of getting ready.
Minghao hooks his arm hand around the front of your body, pulling you up to stand on your toes so he can fuck you quicker, the drag of his cock slightly burning. Your eyes are closed, quiet whines leaving your mouth trying to get used to him.
You keep your hands against the wall for some kind of support, biting your lip when you can't help clenching around his dick, your body already craving release when his tip hits an extra sensitive spot inside of you from the change of angle. Minghao groans feeling your body respond to him, his fingers pressing into your side while holding you.
"Touch your clit for me." Minghao whispers against your skin, his hot tongue swiping your throbbing marks. He tightens his grip on your hair when you don't obey immediately, and you respond with a high pitched moan. Your hand shakes while guiding it down between you and the wall, rubbing yourself at a decent pace. "Fuck..." you exhale, feeling how close you are now.
"Gonna-" you mumble, not able to finish your sentence. "Me too." Minghao interrupts. The perfect drag of his cock thrusting into you takes you over the edge, trying not to moan out loud when you cum around him.
Minghao groans loudly, fucking his warm cum into you right after your release, and taking his time slowing his pace. The overstimulation has you biting down on your lip harshly, gasping when his cock falls out of you.
He gives your cheek a loving kiss before letting go of you, staring at you when you turn to face him. "Not inside," you furrow your eyebrows at him, having a whole day of long shows left with little to no breaks to freshen up.
Minghao fixes his clothes before pulling your panties back up, smiling seeing the wet stain of his cum appearing. "You better keep my cum there the whole day." he looks at you while you button your jeans, your gaze meeting his when you're done.
You open your mouth to speak, but close it again when you hear arguing on the other side of the door. You're able to understand what they're talking about, trying to find Minghao who's nowhere to be seen.
The man chuckles, fixing his hair for a moment before opening the door. You wonder how despite just fucking you he can look so perfect, like these past minutes didn't even happen.
"Good luck." you tell him, watching how he gives you a small smile before walking out of the room, leaving you behind.
You manage to hide the hickeys in your neck by awkwardly covering it with your hair till you get to one of the vanities, unnoticeably taking a concealer. You try your best to cover the marks in the bathroom, noticing Minghao's faint lip tint decorated on your skin.
Thankfully Minghao will be busy for the next hour, and beside taking care of some last scheduling tasks you're able to take your time washing up.
The rest of the day is chaotic, rushing from show to show while the city's traffic seems worse than ever. It's night by the time Minghao's schedules are done, and thankfully tomorrow he only has two shows in the afternoon with one social event, meaning you could wind down for a moment. At least, thats what you were planning to do: take a hot bath as soon as you got home, make yourself some dinner and end up in bed attending to your socials which you've been neglecting since yesterday.
It was almost laughable, so easily giving into some lingering touches and dirty words. Despite your plans you end up right back where you've been since yesterday, laying naked on Minghao's bed with him sitting on top of you. You wonder if you’re really that desperate or just plain stupid.
"You didn't listen." Minghao says almost bored, his finger coated with your slick when he expected to find remains of his cum there.
You chew your lip, only looking back at him while you lean back on the bed, supporting your weight with your elbows. Minghao sighs, rubbing your wetness into the pad of his finger with his thumb.
"Sit up." he tells you, and you immediately obey, hearing him chuckle while you push yourself to sit upright. Minghao stands up, unbuckling his belt while he watches you, pressing his lips into a smile. You can't tell if it's genuine or if there's more to that smile, scared it might be the latter.
You watch as he fully undresses before getting back on the bed, his knees pressing down into the mattress and caging your thighs. He's already hard, just as eager as you are. He grabs your cheeks in his hand, your lips squeezing together. "Now be a good girl and get me off." Minghao tells you, putting pressure on your jaw to open your mouth a little. He brings his mouth to yours, giving you a tender kiss. Then he surprises you by opening your mouth wider with the grip he has on you, spitting in your mouth before letting go of your face all together.
"What the fuck are you waiting for?" he looks at your wide eyed face, putting his hand on the back of your neck and pressing your lips together again. You hum into the kiss, already feeling hot.
A shaky hand quickly goes down, grabbing the base of his hard cock successfully without being able to look. Your thumb swipes against his head in synch with your tongue, mimicking the rhythm of the steamy kiss. You're so turned on only by his mouth on yours, his lips perfectly working against yours.
You never considered kissing as something that could actually turn you on, seeing it as an obligation rather as something you actually enjoyed. But you get it now, for the first time noticing how well you work together, your stomach burning from the simple action.
When the kiss turns faster and messy so follows your hand, spreading his pre-cum over his length and pumping your hand with a tight grip on his cock. Minghao groans in your mouth, and when you decide to tease him a little by biting his bottom lip he squeezes the back of your neck softly.
Minghao pulls away to catch his breath, your mouth moving to his neck hungrily. You've never wanted to please someone as much as you want to please him, at the same time craving to get off too. "Please let me suck your dick." you whisper against his neck, grabbing his arm to pull yourself up a little so you can grind your hips against him. Minghao pulls you back by your hair, breathing while he looks at you with a dark look in his eyes.
"It's cute that you think you deserve to get what you want, baby." Minghao rolls his eyes, pushing you back so you fall back down on your elbows. "Was kind enough to let you touch me and you're still greedy for more." you can tell by his tone he's getting annoyed now, his eyebrows furrowed while he talks to you.
"'M sorry," you say softly, looking up at him while he leans down. He has one arm supporting his weight while his other hand wraps around his hard cock, starting to tug at his length while he looks at you. "Are you baby?" Minghao asks mockingly, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip. You nod silently, body impatiently squirming against the bed.
"C-can I at least touch myself?" you dare to ask, biting your lip at the sight in front of you. He's so close to you, his dick so close to your aching core. You're so wet you're sure he can tell by just one look, breath strained from the sexual tension.
Minghao grins, sucking in a breath when he picks up the pace touching himself. "You can. After I'm done," he says, his eyes squeezing shut for a second.
You bite the inside of your lip, getting more turned on while you watch him getting closer to his release. Minghao gets even closer to you when he gets down on his elbow, his fingers grazing the skin of your stomach every time he reaches his cock head.
When he starts moaning more frequently you can tell he's getting close, his hand moving quickly while he slowly moves his hips too. A few more moments and you feel his hot cum spurting all over your tummy, watching as he empties himself on top of you.
His sticky semen slowly starts pooling to your sides, wanting to slide down to collect on the mattress.
"Careful, y/n. Better keep my cum safe this time." his words make you snap your eyes up at him, watching as he sits back on his knees, this time slotted between your thighs. You gulp, nodding at him. You understand what he wants you to do, embarrassed as you catch the streaks of cum dripping down to your waist on your fingers.
“Very good. Now put it where it belongs.”
Minghao watches you push the two wet fingers inside of you, quickly going back to collect more of his come. You feel him carefully eyeing you when you repeat the action, trying to collect as much of his slick on your fingers and repeating until there’s nothing left.
His cum is threatening to seep out of your pussy with the amount inside of you, your fingers pushing the wetness right back in, your face hot with embarrassment as Minghao watches everything.
"Please Minghao..." you say shyly, looking at him while you start to move your fingers slowly. "Need you so bad... p-please just fuck me," you moan, feeling so full with his cum and your fingers slotted inside of you.
Minghao laughs at you, watching you touch yourself with an amused look on his face. "Tell me baby, do you deserve it though?" he asks you, not making a single effort to touch you. You add another finger, biting your lip painfully hard.
You shake your head. "Don't... Don't deserve your dick." you breathe out a long breath, rocking your hips into your touch. Minghao hums.
You feel like you might go crazy if he just keeps watching. You know if would feel so much better if he’s the one taking care of you. "Kiss me again Hao, n-need your touch... need something."
You hear him chuckle, but he doesn't reply, just watching you fuck his cum inside of you with your digits.
“Minghao…” you moan lowly, looking at him. You must look pathetic to him but you can’t care less, only thinking about him touching you.
Your body twitches when you press your thumb against your clit, hissing from the contact.
"Please hit me." you then say.
Now that gets him curious, cocking up his eyebrow. "I-I deserve it. Please H-Hao. Need it." you moan, feeling yourself getting closer to your high.
Minghao laughs in disbelief. “Fucking hell. You need me that bad?” he shakes his head a little. You nod. “Please.” you moan, your mouth agape when your stomach tightens.
Even though you begged him for it, the sharp sting of his palm hitting your cheek catches you off guard, making you gasp. The corner of your lip quivers up, making Minghao grab your throat tightly. “Fuck,” you whisper, squeezing your eyes shut and feeling how close you are now, moans spilling past your lips like a mantra.
“You’re moaning like a fucking whore in heat just because I hit you a little?” Minghao chuckles, tightening his grip on your neck.
With that you orgasm loudly, the lack of air making your head spin. Your hips stutter into your touch, riding out your high with soft whines filling the air.
When you open your eyes Minghao lets go of your throat, just looking at you when you try to catch your breath.
“Take a shower and buy some of those peach iced tea’s at the convenience store that I like.” he tells you, laying down next to you and scrolling on his phone like nothing happened.
You turn your head to watch him, your eyebrows scrunching together to reveal your confusion to his behavior. He’s acting vastly different to last night.
You clear your throat awkwardly before speaking. “You know I’m not working, right?” you ask him, caging your bottom lip between your teeth. He glances at you, a deep sigh following.
This whole situation is odd, leaving you feeling confused. He’s your boss, your nagging, annoying boss who doesn’t give two shits about you. Yet yesterday he was so gentle, drawing you a bath and even helping you wash up. There was good energy between the two of you, it was undeniable.
The tone in his voice stirs something inside of you, reminding you once again that what you’re doing, is wrong.
“Oh?” he asks, putting down his phone to shift his attention back to you. “Need me to pay you for your precious time outside of work too?” he snaps, pushing himself upright.
You give him a look. “That’s not what I mean.” your jaw tightens.
“You don’t even want to do one single thing for me?” his voice is softer now, like he’s actually confused why you won’t want to do something nice for him when he’s the one switching up on you so fast.
“You can’t boss me around when I’m not even working.” you tell him, sighing. “At least say please… be nice about it.”
Minghao rolls his eyes. “If I pay you double today will you shut up and get me my iced tea?”
“No.” you grunt at him, scurrying to collect your clothes angrily. You hear him sigh in annoyance when you get dressed, ignoring how dirty you feel from your little play session.
“See you tomorrow, asshole.” you mumble the last part when you walk out of his room, sure he will hear you anyway.
xu minghao: are you on your way yet?
You read the new message standing in front of Minghao's apartment. After shoving your phone in your pocket you enter the familiar code of his front door, the lock opening with a loud melody echoing through the empty hallway of his apartment building.
There's an odd feeling lining your stomach, a feeling you've been having a lot these days when you're with Minghao. It worsens when you see him sitting on his leather couch, watching as you take off your shoes and approach him.
A fleeting thought flies by, one that convinces you that maybe you shouldn't have agreed to hang out with him outside of work like this. It was one thing to hook up with him when you were supposed to be busy attending to his schedules, and even worse to literally do it at a gig. But, it's hard to say no to him, especially when you know you enjoy it.
You spot the paint tubes in front of him on the table, thinking back to a few days before when you found out the two of you have something in common, despite how odd that seemed to you.
There's a smile on your face while observing the dark painting in front of you, your eyes finding new details the longer you look.
"I didn't take you for an art lover." you tense hearing Minghao talking, turning to watch him sip on his champagne. You smile awkwardly, not having spoken much since last night apart from work related topics.
"I am." you say, turning your head to look back at the big frame.
There's chatter in the background, the gallery busy with people socializing.
Minghao is invited by one of his friends in the industry to promote his fashion brand, looking dazzling in a well fitted dark suit. Anyone who's anyone roams around making their presence known, promoting some expensive clothing or jewelry brand for the paparazzi outside.
Inside the mood's good, people happily chatting with the one's they're familiar with or want to become familiar with.
"Interesting." he says lowly, looking up to scan the painting you've shown interest in. "I am too, actually." he glances at you quickly. "You have good taste." you see him nod, barely perceptible.
You haven't painted in years, having neglected the hobby once your career became somewhat busy. Your interest in art never left, though, and Minghao seemed to have picked up on that, asking you to come over the day after the end of fashion week.
He'd told you through text he wanted to paint with you, much to your surprise. Sure, it was odd he wanted to hang out in the first place, when if he just wanted to hook up he could do so after work when it was most convenient for him.
But maybe he doesn't only want to have sex...? However, you force away the thought immediately, not even being able to imagine Minghao would just want to hang out with you.
There's got to be more to it, right?
You'd rejected the offer at first, not only because you wanted to spend time catching up with family and friends, but also because there was some part in you telling you to keep having him at a distance. He was persuasive of course, and you agreed to come over only for a little while. Just so he could prove that unrealistic thought wrong.
"Got some new black and white today, those always seem to run out too quickly, hm?" Minghao grabs the paint when he gets up, shoving the tubes in the front pocket of his navy sweater before taking your hand in his. You nod, letting him lead the two of you in a room you've never entered before.
There's heaps of paintings leaning against the wall, few rows stacked over one another as a result of the many completed paintings. The thick carpet tickles the bottom of your feet when you go to admire all the pretty paintings, your eyes wide with admiration.
"You're so good." you finally say after a moment, turning your head to Minghao who's setting up two blank canvases on separate easels.
He smiles sweetly before thanking you, putting the new tubes of paint in the middle together with all the different kinds of paint already scattered around.
"Are you familiar with acrylic?" he squeezes some white, yellow, blue and black paint down on his clean palette, starting to mix some of them while you're still busy scanning the room.
"Um, not really. Only watercolor..." once you see the empty spot next to Minghao you decide to take a seat next to him on the floor, looking at how he confidently starts covering the white canvas a yellow-ish, beige color. "Don't think, just do what feels good." he tells you, dabbing his brush in the black paint.
There's a small smile on your face when you start mixing your colors, taking Minghao's advice and just going for it. You paint the canvas a grey and greenish background, then going over it with white to create makeshift flower petals until you add more definition.
There's a near comfortable silence when the two of you keep painting for a near hour, Minghao humming along to the calm playlist he put on.
He finishes before you, standing up to admire his work for a few good minutes before he seems content. You're working on adding some last pinks in the center of the flower for definition, impressed at yourself when you look at your work.
You've always loved bold and chaotic art, seeing the emotion translated through every brush stroke. Minghao did just that, painting like he was telling a story, yet looking like he was in a blissful state of no-mind.
Even though you loved the idea of letting go and just doing, something always held you back. The urge to create something carefully put together and perfect always seemed to control you, but still you were never quite satisfied.
This time is different, occasionally glancing at the model next to you to remind yourself of his words. Just do what feels good. So you did, and you're left feeling happy at the result in front of you.
"Are you sure it's been years since you've done this?" Minghao chuckles. You look up at where he's standing, closing your eyes for a moment when he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear.
You make eye contact with him, and you freeze momentarily when you realize the sudden scorching burn in your heart.
"I have to go.”
Minghao’s lips push together when he unknowingly pouts, watching you get up from the floor and chaotically search your pocket for your phone. “Already?” he straightens his posture. You fumble with your phone awkwardly, pretending to be busy even though you yourself don’t even know what you’re doing.
“Yea, I’m sorry… I had fun though!” you reassure him before storming out of his apartment in a hurry.
You have plans to meet your family two hours later, but decide to just drive around with your volume loud to kill time until then, not in the mood to sit at home with the chance of a single thought occurring.
However, the music still manages to drown out in the background, having a long conversation with yourself in your head to make sense of everything until you realize.
You’re starting to like Minghao.
Fashion week was a great success, and you're happy the chaos of show after show combined with multiple events was finally over. It's your last day off after a week of not working, Minghao thus you having some time off before starting his busy schedule again.
He didn't contact you again until late today, asking to meet up, but not specifying for what reason. Even though you spend the days following your little painting (date?) trying not to think about him you couldn't help yourself, feeling giddy fantasizing about your boss touching and kissing you again like an idiot.
That's why you can't help but be happy seeing him again, his tall frame leaning against his apartment building while he watches you approach. There's a smile on his lips when you stand in front of him a little awkwardly, you yourself trying not to smile too obviously.
"Are we not going inside?" you ask while looking around, people sure to recognize him if it wasn't for the night sky and the bucket hat covering half his face.
Minghao shakes his head, grabbing your hand in his and linking your fingers. "I want to walk past the river with you." he says, initiating for you to walk to the cross road near.
"Oh, fun." you say softly, ignoring how the mere act of him holding your hand leaves you feeling crazy.
Minghao quietly chats with you while you walk a short route till you get to the river, not letting go of you when you slowly tour past the peaceful water.
"I like watching from here," Minghao stops walking, letting go of you to lean his elbows on top of the iron fence separating the water from the path.
You watch him for a second, smiling a little seeing him scanning the view in front of him. There's tall buildings on the other side of the river, the bleak lights reflecting in the water. Then suddenly there's some gasps around you, and you watch the bridge in the distance start spraying water from its sides like a fountain, the stream moving up and down while the water lights up in pretty, vivid rainbow colors.
You gawk at the fountain show fondly, not able to take your eyes off it. Minghao can't help pinching your cheek at the sight of you, putting his arm around your frame and pulling you close to him with his giggles making you smile even wider. He grabs your chin between his fingers, turning your head to make you look at him before he presses a firm kiss on your lips.
"Mm..." he sighs, cradling your face. You both stay silent for a moment, just looking at each other. There's so much you want to say but you're still confused what it is you're feeling, and you can't bring yourself to say anything at all.
"What are you doing to me, y/n?" Minghao whispers, bringing you even closer to him. "...me?" you ask. "I think all those paint fumes are getting to you..." you tell him, watching as he laughs.
Then he shakes his head. "I like you." he strokes your bottom lip with his thumb, his eyes moving to your mouth before making eye contact with you again.
You still don't know what to say, gulping anxiously before looking away shyly. That seems to only please him. He has a grin on his face before he kisses you again, this time longer.
"Stay the night?" he mumbles against your lips, putting one hand in your neck to keep you close. You nod. "Good." he smiles, playing with your hair.
The next morning you wake up with Minghao's arm loosely draped around you, the bright sun rays shining directly in his face having him frown in his sleep.
"Hao." you whisper, blocking the light from his face with your hand. Minghao groans, slowly opening one eye to look at you. You chuckle at his sleepy state.
"You have to slowly get ready now." you tell him, dropping your hand to watch him squint to adjust to the bright light. "Mm.." he sighs. "Don't want to." he rolls on top of your body, pressing lazy kisses on your throat.
"Hao..." you smile, putting your hands on his pecs. His hands slip under your shirt, fingers softly pinching your nipples. “Open your legs.” he instructs, squeezing the swell of your breast while his other hand goes to tug your panties to the side. You want to tell him he should hurry up but like he has you under a spell you comply quickly.
You’re left in nothing but your panties when Minghao pulls your shirt off your frame, wasting no time getting rid of his boxers and pressing his hard tip against your entrance. “Ready?” he asks, but it’s more of a warning when he tugs his length a few times before pushing in with no prep, your pussy struggling to accommodate to him like this. The burning feeling has you hissing out loud, biting on your bottom lip.
Minghao groans feeling you so snug around him, pressing his face in the crook of your neck while he pushes his cock inside to the hilt. He’s impatient, his rough fingers gripping your hip while he starts thrusting inside of you quickly, the two of you immediately moaning.
“Perfect cunt. Would go crazy without it.” Minghao groans against your neck before kissing the sensitive skin sloppily.
Something about him fucking you like this right after waking up has you feeling feral, clawing at his back like an animal. The snap of his hips and the sound of skin slapping only adds to your desire, wrapping your legs around him to get him as close as possible. Minghao rolls his hips between deep thrusts, hitting your sweet spot with every move and having you nearly yell out loud.
“‘M gonna cum, H-hao.” you tell him, your breathing fast. You feel him nod, fucking you even faster than he already was.
Just like that you cum loudly, your arms keeping him close. Minghao comes shortly after you, riding out his high while you feel his warm seed deep inside of you.
“Maybe you should stop cumming in me Hao, ‘s not smart…” you whisper once he stills on top of you, panting against your face. He looks at you.
“Why would I? Theres nothing better than having you full of my cum.” he grins, pushing himself upright and standing up from the bed.
He grabs your arm. “Let’s go shower.” he says, and you let yourself get pulled to his bathroom.
The warm water pours on both of you generously, and you make a mental note to buy a rain shower just as nice as Minghao’s.
You quietly wash yourself next to Minghao, suddenly thinking of all those movies where the lovers giggle sweetly while washing each other, and you wonder if you will ever find someone who will treat you so delicately.
“What are you thinking about?” the voice of the man next to you takes you out of your thoughts, making you chuckle shyly.
“Nothing really… you?” you ask him, watching the water pour down his lean body.
Minghao slowly pushes you against the glass wall of his shower, his lips finding your cheek. He pecks your hot skin a few times before speaking. “Thinking of how bad I want to fuck you again.” his hands grip your hips before one snakes down to find your clit, his thumb slowly circling around the nub.
You bite the inside of your cheek, one simple touch already turning you on again.
“We’re gonna be late…” you tell him, shutting your eyes automatically.
“I’m famous. I can be late.” Minghao surprises you by pushing one finger inside of you, making you gasp.
“J-just a little then.” you whisper, grabbing his shoulders for support. You lean back against the glass, feeling the coldness of the material mixed with the hot water pouring down you.
He adds another finger, and his thumb starts taunting you faster while his digits move inside of you deeply.
“You get wet so fast baby.” Minghao tells you, watching you lose more of yourself every second.
Just when you feel your stomach muscles starting to tighten he pulls out of you, leaving you empty again.
“Put your leg around my waist.” he instructs you, putting one of his hands on your ass while the other one grabs his hard cock. You do as he says, hooking your leg around him to give him access to you.
Minghao coats his tip in your juices, the feeling of his cock head making contact with your clit having you way too eager.
He’s more gentle this time, slowly pushing inside of you and letting you get used to him. One of your hands grabs onto his mullet for support while the other has a hold of the back of his shoulder. “More,” you tell him, giving his lips a peck. Minghao does what you tell him to do, bottoming out with a deep grunt.
The feeling of him inside of you again is one you don’t want to forget, and you think you could let him fuck you the entire day if it isn’t for all the schedules today.
He looks at you when he starts to rut against your hips slowly, licking his bottom lip with an amused look on his face. “Love this little whore, all for me, hm?” His gaze leaves you flustered, pushing your face against his chest and making him chuckle.
“Look at me, now.” he grabs your chin, and you grip his hair tighter when he picks up the pace. “Tell me. Who’s body is this?” he has a tight grip, his heavy eyes sending a tingle to your stomach.
“Yours…” you whisper in embarrassment, eyes already searching for anything else to look at. Minghao presses his forehead against yours, forcing you as close to him as possible. “Can’t hear you.” he sounds stern with it, forcing a harsh thrust inside of you. You can’t help moaning, your nails digging into his shoulder by now.
“All yours Minghao.” you whisper shakily, forcing yourself to look at him.
Minghao chuckles, and you know he’s doing this on purpose, making you so flustered every time.
He presses you closer to him by your bottom, moving his hips so sinfully it has you in a trance. He knows just how to move, just how to hit that spot inside of you that has the muscles in your stomach and thighs burn with heat.
“P-please touch me Hao.” you moan, biting the inside of your cheek. Minghao gives you a kiss before his fingers find your clit, rubbing you quickly. The sound of his pelvis smacking yours echoes loudly through the bathroom, even louder than before surrounded by the glass.
His fingers toying with you almost has you cumming right on the spot, pushing your face against his neck again. “Cum with me, baby.” Minghao tells you, rubbing you even faster.
You moan loudly, the burn of your hole clenching around his girth making you suck down on the skin of his neck. Minghao thrusts hard a few more times, and once you feel him fucking his cum inside of you again you come undone as well, your moaning mixing together.
Minghao pulls out of you slowly, helping you settle back on both your legs carefully on the wet floor.
“At least we can quickly get clean again.” he chuckles, squeezing some of his way too expensive body wash on his hands.
Once again you’re wearing Minghao’s clothes, which he very obviously is way too happy about. You wear one of his shirts and a hoodie, rewearing your own jeans from yesterday.
“See I told you we won’t be late, now we’re gonna be too early.” Minghao checks himself out in the large mirror in his apartment, making sure he likes the outfit he picked out.
“Might as well get there early, interviews usually run late…”
Minghao sighs in annoyance, and you turn to look at him from where you’re sitting on his couch.
“You always do this,” he clicks his tongue, fixing his hair obsessively. “I’m not coming early, those idiots just need to do their fucking job right for once.” he rolls his eyes.
You stay silent for a moment, the energy in the room different.
“Everyone’s doing their best. ‘M sure they’d appreciate it, Hao. The production manager himself told me after setting everything up they usually have to wait for a long time before the person arrives,”
Minghao is getting annoyed, having this certain look in his eyes while he looks at you. “I really don’t give a shit.” he says, raising his eyebrows. He’s back to looking at himself in the mirror, his eyebrows pressed together.
“If they want me to come earlier they should’ve scheduled me earlier. Aren’t you in charge of that anyway?” he huffs out air, shaking his head.
“Not exactly… You’re not the only busy one.” you tell him, seeing his face change.
“What the fuck is this.” Minghao says angrily, his eyes nearing yours. He turns to walk towards you, his finger pointing to his neck.
You notice the red mark in his neck, a result of your nearing orgasm in the shower.
Your mouth opens a little, not sure what to say while you keep looking at the very obvious hickey. How haven’t you seen it until now when it’s this obvious?
“y/n I have a fucking interview and a shoot today, and you decide to give me a fucking hickey? Are you fucking dumb?” Minghao clenches his jaw, straightening his posture to look down at your sitting figure.
You quickly stand up, getting a better view of the red mark, and oh it’s dark in contrast to his skin tone.
“Fuck, I’m sorry Minghao…” you tell him, slouching your shoulders. “I-I’m sure they can edit it away- right?” you look up at him, seeing his angry eyes peering at you.
“This is GQ, they’re not gonna fucking retouch a hickey for a video, y/n.” Minghao hisses. “And a show later, makeup can’t cover this shit, not with all those bright ass fucking lights.” he raises his voice, making you gulp anxiously.
You’re reminded of the night in his office, how he lost his cool in a similar way.
“And I can’t fucking cancel either,” he sighs loudly, briefly turning away from you, almost like he can’t even look at you.
He turns back. “y/n?” he asks. You feel so bad, waiting for his next words.
“Can you do anything? You always fuck up every single thing you know that?” he raises his eyebrows at you, getting closer to your body.
You swallow. “Why do you always treat me like shit?” you almost whisper, finding it difficult to look at him.
Sure it was a dumb mistake, but surely this shouldn’t be this big of a situation as he makes it out to be. Besides, it was only a mistake. You were too caught up in the moment. And even then, Minghao himself had no remorse himself when he marked up your entire neck for any staff to see, only enjoying it.
“Are you ignoring me or are you really this stupid? I just told you. Maybe if you can do your fucking job right for once you’d get praised for a change.”
You cross your hands, your face showing your obvious anger now.
“Am I not? Do you even know how much shit I do for you?” you tell him, shaking your head.
Minghao chuckles. “Sure you do.” he says boredly, rolling his eyes at you.
“You don’t even take me seriously.” you clench your jaw, your breathing getting louder.
“How can I? When you’re the perfect little servant who does anything I say. You’re barely your own person.” he chuckles, a sudden smile on his face. You pause again, not believing what he’s saying to you.
“This was all a bad idea, Minghao.” you shake your head. You can’t believe you’ve come to like Minghao this much when he’s still the insufferable asshole from before. How could your heart sabotage you like this? When you already knew how he is?
“You let me get too close. Let’s just go back to how things were and we can ignore each other again.” you tell him, sighing.
Minghao gives you a look.
“I don’t want that.” he tells you, making you even more conflicted. “You know how stressful this job is? I fucking need you.”
You can’t help the laugh slipping past your lips, feeling tears threatening to build up.
“You’re unbelievable.” you mumble, not letting yourself cry in front of him. “You just fucked me because I’m around you so much?”
You watch him chuckle in amusement, licking his lips. “What did you think? You’re so close, so easy.” he gets close to you, his body almost pressing against yours.
“Don’t talk to me like that.” you hiss at him, pushing him away.
“Fine.” he says. “Now act like a good fucking assistant and shut the fuck up already.”
“No.” you tell him, stepping away.
“I quit.” you walk away from him, walking towards the front door before Minghao grabs your wrist.
“You can’t quit.” he frowns, trying to pull you back to him. You yank your wrist from his grip.
“You think you’ll ever get another job as good as this one? Huh?” he raises his voice, following you to the door.
“Sure I will.” you tell him calmly, grabbing your work bag from the floor.
“You’re dumber than you look if you think you’ll ever find another job in this industry again, y/n. I’ll make fucking sure you won’t.” he says through gritted teeth, pushing you flat against the door and getting close to you.
“So don’t you dare leave.” he tells you, grabbing your shoulders.
You push him away again, this time hard.
“I hope I won’t ever see you again. I hope you get fucking cancelled.” you give him an enraged look before storming out of the apartment, leaving Minghao and your job behind.
From day one your boss knew just how to push your buttons, but like the professional you are you handle it with grace, until one day you don’t.
pairing model!minghao x f!assistant!reader words 8.29K tags minghao’s so mean, reader gets caught sleeping in hao’s apartment, minghao loves making reader’s life hell, hao throws multiple fits, reader’s a little shy, tension, sadism, masochism, hair pulling, spanking, orgasm denial, oral (m receiving), fingering, throat fucking, degradation, dumbification, manhandling, punishment, marking, face slapping, humiliation, unprotected sex, breeding themes, creampie, overstimulation, aftercare warnings dubcon (reader doesn’t stop him when he asks), smut, depictions of a toxic relationship, cursing, mention of dieting, power play, crying, mentions of impregnating, mentions of blood (1) a/n this story is kinda off to a wild start, enjoy! happy holidays ❄️
(index ; next)
It's hard being the assistant of a world-renowned celebrity.
It's even harder when that celebrity is the Xu Minghao, who's currently one of the most respected models in the industry. It felt like a dream come true getting a job like this without having any big connections. You only had two years of experience prior to being hired by Minghao, assisting an idol from a rookie boy group. The job wasn't too demanding or stressful, as the group wasn't as big as other singers that were winning all kinds of awards, or even touring the world.
There was no way around Minghao with the many billboards and ads of him around the city. You're sure you even remember hearing about him on the news at some point, maybe even more than once.
You found out how different working with Minghao would be on your first day. Cancelling and moving appointments last minute, getting yelled at for not getting him the right tea, herds of fans and paparazzi camping outside of his apartment building (which you were sure had to be illegal?)
Being two months into the job didn't make it any easier like you'd hoped. If anything, Minghao seemed more unbearable the longer you worked for him, his attitude borderline verbal abuse at times.
As much as you want to quit you can't afford to lose a job like this. At least not this soon. It would look totally bad on your resume if you resigned right now. So, even though you'd have to endure his abuse, you told yourself you would be Minghao's assistent for at least three years.
In two years and 10 months you'd be free.
Today, out of all days, Minghao has dragged you to his apartment to organize some papers. You were hoping to call it an early day today, but you've already been working from six in the morning till now, just a few minutes past eight pm. That's a whopping fourteen hours of listening to his nagging.
You know better than to talk back to Minghao, he's your employer after all. So, despite it being your birthday today you do as you're told, texting your father your birthday dinner will be a few hours later than you planned. If there wasn't a spot reserved in heaven for you by now then you don't know anymore.
You've been to Minghao's apartment plenty of times before, and he leads you to his clean office space with a blank stare on his face.
"Everything's in the closet here," he points to the desk drawer. "I need you to organize everything. Sort by year in chronological order and put it in the folders here." Minghao points to the different organizers spread out on the desk, looking at you like you're the biggest joke alive.
You hold the big sigh you want to let out, nodding at him before putting down your bag next to the desk chair. "I'll let myself out when I'm done." you assure him, your fingers hooking around the metal nob of the top drawer.
You figure it'll take you no longer than an hour, speedrunning through the pile before meeting your father at the restaurant.
"Finish quick and get some sleep before the shoot tomorrow." he reminds you, crossing his arms over his chest. Ah yes. The Vogue USA photoshoot you'd have to wake up for at 3 am. It's been planned for months, the whole team flying over to Korea to accommodate Minghao's busy schedule.
You open the closet, eyes widening at the sight in front of you. There was a giant pile waiting for you, the pages messily spread throughout the whole wooden shelf, the drawer so full it almost reached the top.
Which dumbass just throws all their finances in a drawer?!
This will take you hours, if not the whole night. Your jaw clenches, looking up at Minghao who just gives you a pleased smile. "I'm off to bed. Hurry up, hm?" he cocks up his eyebrows, not able to contain the genuine smile on his lips before he turns around to walk out of the room.
His hand grips the door frame, looking back at you over his shoulder. "Oh and y/n?" he pauses for a second. Your eyes meet his again.
"Happy birthday."
With that he walks off, the lights in the living room turning off and leaving you all by yourself, body seething with pure anger.
That fucking asshole. He's doing this on purpose.
It takes you a few moments to regain composure, nails painfully digging into the palms of your hands before you relax the aching muscles. It's okay. You finally let go of the long breath you've been holding, letting your body fall on the desk chair.
You text your dad you won't be able to make it after all, trying not to think of how guilty you feel. It's fine. This job is the reason you're even able to keep your family afloat, though it has limited the amount of time you're able to spend with them, but that's a sacrifice you just had to make.
Once you remember you didn't forget to bring your headphones the time seems to fly by pretty quickly, and before you know it you've run through half the pages in the drawer.
It's a little past midnight when your playlist stops, the only sound being the ticking of the clock while you're fighting to keep your eyes open. You manage to organize the files for about twenty more minutes before your forehead finds itself on the hard wooden desk, your lips slightly parted with soft breaths leaving your mouth while you drift off to sleep.
The obnoxiously loud alarm of your phone makes you jump, slow fingers trying their best to turn off the annoying sound as quickly as possible. You sigh deeply, rubbing your eyes while you slowly sit up straight. It takes a second for you to process that you aren't at home in your bed, eyes widening when you realize you fell asleep in Minghao's office.
A silent curse leaves your lips, looking down at the unfinished pile in front of you. You tap your screen, sighing in frustration when you see the time. Unfortunately for you, being his assistant also meant being his personal alarm clock whenever he had gigs. You'd get to his apartment at least an hour before having to leave together, more than often needing to drag his groggy ass out of bed.
On a positive note, this means that Minghao is most likely still fast asleep, and you have about an hour to find a bathroom somewhere to freshen up.
You try to ignore the anxiety in your stomach when scanning the unfinished pages, opting to just put the bundle of paper in the back of one of the binders, hoping he won't find out. So that's what you do, leaving the stack of organizers on the desk before getting your bag, making sure to not make loud noises when tiptoeing into the living room.
You're so caught up in being quiet that you don't notice the presence behind you when you turn to shut the door to the office, a loud yell leaving your lips when you're met with an unamused Minghao standing in front of you.
"Good morning to you too," he says, crossing his arms over his unclothed chest. Despite his words, there's not a single ounce of amusement on his face.
Your eyes are wide with shock, heart beating fast at unexpectedly getting caught trying to sneak out.
There's a moment of silence between the two, and you notice how he's only covered by a flimsy white towel hanging around his hips, hair still damp from the shower he had.
"You-You're up?" you ask him, mentally damning yourself for not even apologizing first- you had fallen asleep in his apartment, and you knew just how opposed he was to surprises.
Minghao hums, studying you.
"It's the most important shoot of my career, figured I'd get up early to mentally prepare myself."
His eyes don't leave yours when you give him a nod, your gaze going down to the floor in embarrassment.
He takes a step forward, the smell of his expensive shampoo hitting your nose. "I guess you don't care much, since you didn't even bother to take care of yourself to be at your best for me today."
Fuck. You force yourself to look up at him, feeling the usual tension between the two of your thickening. Maybe it's the lack of sleep, or the fact that he's not even able to go a little easy on you despite it basically being his own fault you fell asleep, but you fire back with a snarky comment defending your pride for the first time ever, instead of apologizing like you usually do.
"I was up till late. Maybe if some asshole didn't need me to organize a year's worth of bank statements at the crack of dawn I wouldn't have fallen asleep."
You regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth, but to your surprise Minghao doesn't get angry, he doesn't even look annoyed or shoot you the usual glare you've become familiar with. Instead, a smirk creeps onto his lips, which for some reason seems even worse than yelling at you.
It kind of felt like he... respected you? In some weird, twisted, Minghao way.
You try not to look at his body, yet you can't help noticing how his forearms look pressed against his chest, or his pecs flexing from the way his arms are positioned. Like he can read your mind, he drops his limbs down at this side, looking over to his bedroom for a second before looking back at you.
"Well hurry up and take a shower," he presses. "I'll leave some clean clothes on the sink." with that he disappears into his bedroom, the sound of his closet opening sending you back down to reality.
When lathering yourself with his body wash your thoughts drift back to him, his skin a little red and covered with drops of water, the alluring smell of his clean hair mixed with the Aesop body cleanser you too are covering yourself in.
Of course, Minghao's an attractive man, he's a model for god sake, but even thinking about him standing under the hot stream of water leaves an odd feeling in your stomach. Like you're doing something you really shouldn't, taking a bite of a poisoned apple you know will end up killing you if you ever dare to swallow.
The man confuses you more every day, his unpredictable nature making you exhale a deep breath before turning the shower off.
The rest of the day goes by relatively smooth, the shoot ending a little earlier than planned, yet you're still exhausted from the lack of sleep.
You always liked gigs like these, preferring them over being alone with Minghao. You hated to admit it, but Minghao was always a delight to work with surrounded by other industry professionals, and today, he even went as far as to thank you in a behind the scenes interview of the Vogue photoshoot, resulting in compliments from all kinds of important people on set the entirety of the shoot.
It feels good getting acknowledged, even though you know you're good at your job. Yet you can't help feeling down because of it, knowing he's only being nice to you to look good in front of other people, not because he actually means it.
You've long forgotten the praise you received today when you're driving back to his apartment, teeth gnawing into your bottom lip feeling your empty stomach painfully crying out to you.
"Stop that."
You turn your head to look at Minghao for a moment, noticing how he hasn't moved his gaze from his phone. "Stop what?" you ask him, looking back at the road to concentrate. He sighs. "Chewing on your lip. It's bothering me."
You scrunch your eyebrows together for a moment. "How? You're not even looking at me." you thank god you're only a few turns away from his home, already fantasizing about ordering take-in and going to bed immediately after having dinner.
"I can see it from the corner of my eye, so stop."
You clench your jaw, staring at the road in front of you with a knowing look on your face. Minghao tries his best to hide his smile, quickly shutting off his phone when you enter the underground parking lot of his apartment building.
You give him the keys once you've both gotten out of the car, opening your bag to search for your own car keys, turning to your car parked beside his expensive BMW.
"And where are you going? You haven't finished your task from yesterday, have you?" Minghao cocks up his eyebrow at you, staring back at you when you make eye contact with you.
"What? You want me to do that now?" you ask him, earning a mocking laugh from him. "You slept, what, three hours? You know how many times I had to work with less sleep than that?" he rolls his eyes, sighing loudly.
The nerve. "Well, I'm sorry, but I think I can't really perform well in this state. I can come by tomorrow though even though it's my day o-"
"No." Minghao says, cutting you off. He steps closer to you, his face nearing yours. "I told you to fucking get it done and you can't even do that." he snaps, his tall frame crowding yours.
"Now fucking do your job or I will show you what sleep deprivation is."
Your breath gets caught in your throat, trying your best not to cry in front of him, something you know will only please him. This fucking asshole. You don't know what's come over you, you wonder if it really is the lack of sleep, but you're not in the mood today.
"I told you, Minghao. I can't now." you take a hold of your car keys between your fist, squeezing the object hard. "I will see you in two days. Have a good night."
You can see how he clenches his jaw before you turn around, hand shaking a little when you open the door to your car. Minghao doesn't move from his spot, dark eyes watching you slam your door shut loudly and starting your car quickly.
You release a loud breath when you drive out of the parking garage, anxiety pooling inside of your stomach fearing he's not gonna go easy on you.
"As described in my email from this morning the first show will start at 11, so you will arrive to start preparing at 9 like it says here," Jongsu, Minghao's manager explains. He points to the cel of the descriptive Excel sheet on his screen, the itinerary for the next three days thoughtfully planned out.
You nod, lips pursed together and focussed on the informative summary of all the shows Minghao will be working for this Seoul Fashion Week, starting tomorrow.
The meeting goes on for another 30 minutes, discussing the details of some tv show his manager has booked him, among other things in the near future.
When the meeting's over Minghao and you exit the building, met with herds of fans rushing up to him-their cellphone gripped tightly in their fists.
You could never get used to this, the bright flashing lights, screaming voices.
"Make room, please." you tell the body of girls swarming around him, way too close for comfort.
Minghao gets in the passenger side of his car, locking the door immediately yet still opening the window halfway to wave at his fans. You get behind the wheel, turning on the ignition with a twist of the key.
You consider asking him if he ever gets tired of living like this, having eyes on him at all times, but shake away the thought not wanting to talk to him if there’s not a reason to. Besides, you already know how he is, sure he's only loving the attention.
A sigh leaves his lips when you drive away, closing the window with a click of a button and sinking down against the leather interior of his car.
You're not surprised when he doesn't stir up a conversation during your ride together, and not because of the little incident that took place last time.
Minghao prefers complete silence on drives, even long ones, quick to turn off any soft music you dared to turn on when you just started working for him. Like the sociopath he is.
When you get to his apartment you find yourself back in his office, seated in the same chair you fell asleep in only days before. Minghao has retreaded to his bedroom, the only sound being the distant chatter of his tv in the other room.
Considering there aren't many files left to organize you peacefully go through the pages, sure it won't take up much more of your time anymore.
After a mere 10 minutes your phone dings, the screen lighting up showing you a text message from Minghao himself.
You frown at the screen, considering he's just in the other room.
xu minghao: im hungry.
You sigh silently, picking up the phone in your hand.
What would you like for me to order?
The text is read immediately.
xu minghao: usual.
Just as you're finishing the last few pages the doorbell rings, signaling the food is here.
You get up from the chair, but sit back down when you hear Minghao scurrying out of his bedroom. You wrap up by stacking the files on top of each other, leaving them in the middle of the desk before slowly pushing yourself upright again. You only make it two steps before being met by an angry Minghao standing in front of you, holding the salad box in his hand.
"What's this?" he snaps, practically shoving the opened paper box in your face. It takes you a second to process, giving him a puzzled look before your eyes go to the salad in front of you.
"Um, your salad?" your voice shakes a little, and you awkwardly clear your throat after, your gaze meeting his again.
Minghao chuckles, his lips curled up into a smile before he suddenly launches the food straight to the floor, lips pushed back together into a tight line.
A gasp leaves your mouth, looking at the mess below you with a shocked look on your face.
He takes a deep breath. "Are you mentally challenged y/n?" he looks down at you, his tone dead serious. "I have a fucking show tomorrow and you got me a salad with fucking Vinaigrette dressing? Are you stupid?" his eyes are wide, face filled with anger.
You now remember how he even limits himself from eating anything other than straight vegetables and fruit the day before a show, cursing yourself for even forgetting the small but important detail.
"I-I-"
"Why do you even work for me when you're too fucking dumb to remember what I eat? Do I need to spell out every fucking thing I ask?!" He gets even closer to you, and you put your hands against his chest to keep his body from pressing into yours.
"I'm sorry... I-I'll clean this and get you a new one." You quickly sink down onto your knees, feeling hot tears threatening to spill from your eyes, making sure to keep your head down so he won't see.
You wince in pain when a hand grips your hair, your shaky fingers barely grazing a piece of lettuce before he harshly tugs you back up to meet his face again.
Minghao's breath hits your skin while he stares down at you, your breath caught in your throat while you feel a tear slide down your face.
"Oh you're crying now?" he laughs, his grip tightening.
You bite down on your quivering lip, big eyes looking at him submissively.
He grunts before letting go of your scalp, his hands moving to take a hold of your shoulders and pushing you till the back of your legs hit the edge of the desk.
"Not feeling like talking back to me today? Are you back to being the good girl I know you are?"
His thumb and index finger grasp your jaw tightly, tugging your face up to meet his eyes clouded by stark darkness. If your heart would beat any faster you're sure it'd explode, your mind only able to focus on him.
He chuckles at your silence, rolling his eyes before his free hands grips the skin of your hip, using it as leverage while pushing his body flush against yours.
"I know you can talk, y/n. Let me hear that sweet voice of yours, tell me you don’t want it…" he purrs, softly pressing his hot lips against your cheek.
You softly gasp from the contact, acknowledging how hot your body suddenly feels. This can't be happening, right? You hate his guts, despised him and his stupid face. You don't even know why you're allowing him to do this to you, or why your skin is heating up from his touch.
You swallow a lump in your throat, a long exhale leaving your mouth. "Minghao…" you're only able to utter a pathetic whisper, too focussed on his fingers pressing into your hip, and the strands of his hair tickling the side of your face.
Minghao hums, the vibration against your skin making your eyes shut tightly. If you hated him so much, why do you feel so turned on? Fuck, maybe it's the mommy issues, but have you liked the way he treated you all along?
You aren’t able to give it much thought when he surprises you again by spinning you around quickly, his chest pressed against your back while your hands find themself against the cold top of the wooden desk to keep yourself up. “You did it on purpose, didn’t you? Getting me that stupid dressing just to annoy me. I know you did.”
“I-I didn’t, I swear.” you protest, inhaling a sharp breath when his hand wraps around your throat, keeping it there with a loose grip on your jugulars.
“I hate liars.” Minghao’s voice is low, almost a whisper while his lips inch close to your ear, pulling your head back into him by your neck. “Let's see then, let's see how much you didn’t enjoy messing with me,” he says softly, his voice husky. His free hand travels down the front of your body, easily slipping down your jeans, going straight into your panties.
You know you should’ve probably pushed him off of you the second his fingers threaded through your hair, but for some fucked up reason you can’t, anticipating what he’ll do next.
Two fingers slide between your folds, the long digits just barely pushing into your wet hole. You stifle a moan, feeling pathetic at failing to control your reaction to his touch.
You keep yourself from whining when he withdraws his entire hand from your pants, Minghao sighing next to you. “You love making me angry. Don’t you?” You can’t see him, but feel his eyes bore into the side of your face.
He chuckles when you weakly shake your head, flinching when he suddenly pushes his slick-coated fingers past your lips, making you taste yourself. “You don’t?” he cocks up his eyebrows, the fingers against your throat tightening around you a little bit.
“I told you I hate liars, y/n.” he clicks his tongue in annoyance, pulling his fingers from your warm mouth.
“I’m sorry…” you say softly, face warm with embarrassment. Minghao chuckles at you, pushing you down against the top of the desk, his hand on your back keeping you there firmly. “Tell me you want it, and maybe I’ll go easy on you.” his hand grips your ass, kneading the skin through the fabric of your clothes.
A confused sound leaves your mouth, eyes wide before he catches you off guard by smacking your bottom harshly. “I said tell me you want it, are you deaf?” he sighs again, keeping his hand on the now stinging skin.
“Minghao…” you whine, your cheek pressing against the hard material. He delivers another harsh smack against your ass. A moan leaves your mouth, and you get even more flustered, the sting making your thighs shift uncomfortably.
You feel his hand leave your ass again, and you quickly open your mouth to speak. “O-okay!” you beg him, your breath picking up. His hand gently rests down on your ass again, kneading it softly. You press your lips together, fingers gripping the edge of the desk.
“Well? Use your words.” his voice results in your eyes shutting tightly, basking in the pleasurable pain he inflicted on you.
“I-I” you stutter, too embarrassed to admit how much you want him out loud.
Another blow to your bottom, making you groan loudly. You can’t help pushing your body back into his touch, unknowingly ticking your boss off even more.
“You’re on a little streak of going against me, y/n.” he tells you, shaking his head a little bit. “I’ll give you one more chance. You better fucking hurry.” you can tell by his tone he’s getting impatient, his nails now digging into your clothed ass.
“Fuck, okay- I fucking want it, Minghao.” you finally tell him, your body slumping against the desk below you.
“Hm, that’s more like it. That’s the good girl I know.”
He sounds pleased, amusement laced in his voice like he was waiting for you to tell him all along.
Minghao’s hand wraps around your upper arm, pulling you back on your feet and turning you around to face him again.
He curses lowly seeing your blown eyes looking up at him, his lips plump and red from biting it. “Fucking want you too. Seeing you in my clothes-wearing my boxers, fuck.” his jaw tightens, his arms going around your waist to press your warmth together.
“Gonna listen to me today? Be good for me?” one of his hands wraps around the top of your neck, fingers holding your jaw while his brown eyes near at you. You nod shyly, seeing how Minghao inhales a deep breath. “Then start by fucking talking, dumb whore. I know you’re not this shy.” His lips barely graze yours, looking at you like you’re nothing to him.
"I'll be good for you." you say softly, and Minghao rewards you by pressing his lips against yours roughly, his hand gripping your hip, while the hand on your jaw moves down to your shirt, fisting the fabric and pulling you even closer to him.
You moan softly against his mouth, the feeling of his teeth pulling on your lower lip making you weak in the knees. His hot tongue enters your mouth, playing with your tongue skillfully, remind you he's the one in charge.
Minghao hooks his hands under your knees, lifting you up on the edge of his desk. His hands find your thighs, squeezing the skin possessively. You groan inside of his mouth, hands coming up to cup his face. The kiss is messy but so good, the thought of his spit all over your lips sending a throb right down to your core.
Your fingers find his nape, playing with the dark hairs in his neck. You tug on the soft strands a little, and Minghao can't help but groan against your mouth.
You break the kiss all out of breath, looking at each other for a second, noticing his plump, wet lips while he breathes loudly. You go in to kiss him again, not able to resist him anymore, but before you can press your lips together his fingers tug a fistful of your hair, keeping you from doing so.
Your gaze is fixated on him, looking at him through your eyelashes, waiting. His mouth curls up into a small smirk before he finally kisses you again, just as rough and hastily as before. His frame leans into yours, and you clutch onto his shoulders while you feel yourself getting pushed back by his chest.
When you're fully on your back against the desk he stands back upright, looking at you again with that pleased smile on his face. He stands between your legs, his lower body awfully close against the inside of your thighs.
"Always such a good girl, hm? So good to me, my little servant." he chuckles, fingers opening your jeans while never breaking eye contact with him. Your jaw tightens, thighs squeezing around him a little while you push yourself up, hands coming up to shove him away. How fucking dare he, that stupid asshole. Minghao grabs your wrists in his grasp tightly, face coming down to meet yours.
"What? I'm just stating the facts. That's all you are, my silly, dumb servant."
Your eyebrows scrunch together in anger, using your arms to push against his body.
"Fuck you Minghao." you tell him angrily, Minghao's face only looking very amused. He holds you where you are. "I'm not wrong, we both know it. I only have to tell you what I want and you're more than willing to give it to me, tell me I'm wrong."
By now you can feel the heat radiating from your face, trying your best to get down from the desk but your strength not able to match his. "Is that all I am to you? I work over hours to please your entitled fucking ass without as much as a thank you and you see me as some stupid joke?!"
Minghao laughs out loud, only making you angrier.
"You should be thanking me, y/n. Without me you'd just be another underpaid assistant working for some laughable flopping idol group."
You open your mouth to talk, but instead gasp when he flips you over, bending you over the edge of the desk below, your wrists behind you trapped in Minghao's grip.
"Now stop fucking talking, or I'll make you regret it."
Your breath is caught in your throat, feeling the way Minghao slides down one hand between your legs, his hand cupping your core. He hums. "See? I told you you do anything I ask of you." he snickers, fingers softly moving against you. "Hao..." you let out a big sigh, the feeling of his hands on you making you forget all about your anger.
He taps your clothed clit softly, almost like a warning. You stifle a whine, and he pulls your jeans down past your thighs, two fingers pressing against your clit.
"Fuck." you moan, biting your lip at the contact. He hums at you in satisfaction, slowly rubbing your sensitive nub, but not doing anything else.
"Want me to touch you, right? Want me to keep going?" he almost whispers, holding your wrists tightly. You nod almost immediately, but respond when you remember he wants to hear you. "Please." you try not to sound so broken, but you're sure he's not that easily fooled by you.
"Then tell me you're my dumb servant, and I'll do more than just touch you today.”
You swallow a lump in your throat at the thought of whatever this is you being an occurring thing, losing all composure with a singular sentence.
You wanted to feel angry for the way he’s speaking to you, to stone-cold reject him and quit your job to feel like you’d have the upper hand against him. But then what? And even then, somewhere deep inside of you, you knew you didn’t want to put an end to this.
“I’m-” you hiss when he pushes his fingers against you a little harder, surely to taunt you even more.
“I’m your… y-your dumb servant.” you say, pushing your cheek into the desk.
Minghao giggles, his body shaking with amusement. “Very good, I knew you’d listen.” Your breath picks up when he hooks his fingers around your panties, moving the fabric aside. His two fingers enter your hole, your wetness allowing for him to easily slip inside.
“God, ur so wet, what a little whore…” he chuckles. His fingers stay seated deep inside of you, experimentally curling the long digits. Your body reacts well to him, feeling so turned on by just his two fingers. “More.” you manage to say, biting your bottom lip.
Minghao starts pumping his fingers inside of you slowly, a finger brushing against your clit carefully.
“Look so pretty like this, already struggling to talk.” he says, curling his fingers again.
“Mhh-hmf.. m-more.” you tell him, pushing your ass back to feel more of him. Minghao hums. “Don’t know if you deserve it, baby.”
You groan when he draws circles on your throbbing clit, your toes curling from the pleasure.
“Please.” you whisper, feeling your stomach tighten, your walls clenching around his fingers.
Minghao adds a third finger, suddenly going a lot faster. Moans spill past your lips, eyes squeezed shut.
“Pussy feels so tight… can you even handle my cock?” he asks, body leaning over yours to get closer to you. You try your best to nod, pleasure overtaking your body.
Just as you feel your orgasm nearing Minghao pulls his fingers out of you, the hand around your wrists disappearing. You whine at the loss of pleasure, taken aback by him pulling you back up.
You turn around to face him, a pout on your lips.
“Go to my bedroom. When I get there I want to see you naked.”
You nod at him shyly, fixing your jeans before walking to his bedroom.
You’ve been inside his bedroom before, forced to wake him multiple times much to his dismay. It reflects his personality well, the interior minimalistic but very classy, most of his furniture a light cream color.
His bed is made perfectly, and you take a seat on the edge, on the soft grey blanket on top of his duvet.
Your hands shake a little when you take off your shirt, laying it down on the floor together with your jeans and socks, hesitant to take off your lingerie.
Minghao enters his bedroom, looking at you with furrowed eyebrows.
“Didn’t I tell you to be naked?” he scoffs, now standing right in front of you. You nod, responding with a soft ‘yes’, which makes him roll his eyes.
“So why aren’t you?” he presses, tugging your jaw to make you look up at him.
“Um-”
You gasp when he slaps your face hard, the skin tingling from the impact. "When I tell you something you better do it. Now strip." You do as you're told, shaky hands unhooking your bra and letting it fall down to your lap.
Minghao throws the piece of clothing down on the floor, eyes boring into you as you hook your fingers around the fabric of your panties, pulling it past your legs.
"Get down, on your knees."
You push yourself from his bed, getting down on your knees in front of him. Minghao looks at you when he undoes the buckle of his belt, pushing down his pants to reveal the bulge in his boxers.
"You're gonna take what I give you, and if you spill as much as a drop I'm gonna punish you." his fingers pull down his dark boxers, revealing his thick cock. Your eyes widen a little at the sight, your lips grazing the head when he pulls your closer by your neck.
It's big and veiny, pre cum leaking from the tip. You're not sure you'll be able to take such a huge cock, but want nothing more than to feel him deep in your throat right now.
"Open your mouth, dear." he presses, his fingers tangled in your hair.
You open your mouth wide for him, watching his face as he pushes his entire length inside of you. A moan leaves his lips, silently cursing at the feeling of your hot mouth around him.
When your eyes close trying to get used to his size, another blow to your cheek makes your eyes widen in surprise.
"Look at me. Want to see those pretty eyes cry for me."
Minghao starts thrusting inside of your mouth experimentally, watching how you struggle to breathe, eyes already filling with fat tears threatening to spill from them. You remember to breathe through your nose, trying so hard not to choke on him.
He hums in pleasure, gripping your hair even tighter as he picks up the pace, using you like you're only a hole to him, and you love every second of it.
"Fuck, good fucking girl. You're doing so well." one of his hands stroke your burning cheek, so gently compared to how he's been treating you.
Your hands grip his thighs for support, trying your best to stay still while he goes even faster. Your cheeks are wet with tears, vision blurred while you watch him moan loudly.
His cock twitches in your mouth, fingers pressing into your nape while he ruts against your face unapologetically.
You feel incredibly turned on watching him, feeling him so deep inside your throat. You press your thighs together tightly, praying he'll give you more tonight.
He stills inside of you, his pelvis pressed against your face when you feel him cumming down your throat. His breathing is hard, looking down at you while thick ropes of cum continue to paint your insides white.
He holds your jaw when slowly pulling out, biting his lip when you softly suck to make sure none of his come escapes your mouth.
"Did so good, such a good girl, y/n." his thumb strokes your cheek, letting go of your face completely before pulling you up by your arm.
His red lips press against yours, catching you in a steamy kiss, not caring that his cum is still in your mouth.
You finally swallow when he pushes you down on his bed, seeing how he kicks off his pants before his shirt follows.
"Your pussy is leaking," he points out, his pointy finger pressing against your clit. You whimper at the contact, fisting the blanket at your sides.
Minghao looks at you. "Want me to touch you? Take care of that slutty pussy?" he pushes the finger inside of you without looking away from you.
You nod, biting down on your lip. Minghao hums, his other hand on your knee to keep your legs open. "Want your cock, Hao." you tell him shamelessly, your chest rising. He only chuckles, adding another finger.
"Why don't you beg me some more," he says, slowly moving his fingers inside of you.
You whine, your head pressing down into the mattress. "Please Minghao, n-need your cock."
He scissors his fingers, choked gasps echoing through his room. "More." he tells you. You raise your hips from the bed, trying to chase your high. "Desperate whores get nothing." he pulls his fingers from your pussy like before, another whine ripping from your mouth.
Minghao delivers a harsh slap to your thigh, glaring down at you. "You're pathetic." he mumbles, hooking his arms around your thighs to hike you up on the bed.
"You're lucky I'm in a giving mood today, but you're not gonna cum unless I tell you to. Is that clear?" you quickly nod at him, eager to get anything at this point.
He wraps his hand around his dick, massaging his already hardening cock while he gets between your legs. You lean back on your elbows, keeping yourself up while you look at him, pussy clenching around nothing, so eager to feel him.
Minghao bends your knees into your body, spitting on your drenched pussy before sliding his hard tip between your folds. The stimulation makes you moan, throwing your head back in pleasure.
"You really are pathetic, y/n." Minghao shakes his head, aligning the tip against your hole. He pushes in slowly, your mouth wide open feeling his cock stretching you open. His hands push down beside your head, a long moan leaving his lips when he sinks his entire length inside of you.
He fits snugly, your body almost struggling to adjust to his size. Pitiable moans and whines continue to stumble out of you, feeling so full, so perfect. His eyes concentrate on yours, his teeth biting the inside of his cheek. "Keep looking at me, y/n." Minghao reminds you, drawing back his hips only to snap right back into you, the hard thrust making you reach out to grab his upper arms.
"P-please Hao, feels so... s-so good." you choke out, finding it difficult to keep your eyes on him. He establishes a set pace, his thighs pressing into you with every move. "I know baby." he mumbles, head moving down to kiss your neck.
The contact has you whimpering, forcing your body against his. He feels so deep like this, and you don't know what to do with yourself, never having felt this good by a man, only if it was just a couple of simple thrusts. The muscles in your stomach feel burning hot, and you have to compel yourself not to cum right there and then.
Teeth push into your neck while licking the skin, sucking a painful mark into it. He chuckles, picking up the pace after giving the mark a lingering kiss. "I guess you‘re pretty sensitive there since you can't stop crushing my dick," he remarks, looking back down at you. You exhale an unsteady breath, unable to answer feeling your body respond to him. One of his hands suddenly finds your throat, putting pressure on your jugular.
The combination of his thrusts, the hand on your neck and his pelvis hitting your throbbing clit every time leaves you bewildered, fingers hastily grabbing the hairs in his neck for some kind of aid.
You’re trying so hard not to cum, your body working against you by rocking back up against him. He rolls his hips, the oscillation making you cry.
“Don’t.” he warns you, dark orbs staying focussed on you. You give him a pained look, but nod obediently.
You can’t help the tears from building in your eyes. There’s near blood rising from how hard you bite your bottom lip, sighing from the pleasure. It doesn’t help when he tightens his hold on your neck, catching yourself from closing your eyes at the feeling.
“M’gna cum, gonna cum… f-fill you up, hm?” he groans before pressing his lips against you forcefully, and before you can even process his words his warm cum spurts inside of you. Both your moans are muffled against each other’s mouths, your fingers tugging at his hair.
Minghao pulls out of you, turning you over on all fours before he pushes his hardening cock back inside of you again. You scream at the new angle, pushing your face against the pillow below.
“Fucking love your little pussy.” Minghao groans, smacking your ass harshly. “Only mine to fill up, only mine to use.” he tells you, fucking his cum deep inside of you.
His hands grip your thighs hard, sure to leave bruises. “Tell me, slut. Tell me how you feel, who owns you.” he slaps your ass again, right on the already burning mark. You whine loudly, pushing your ass up.
Minghao grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your face up so he can hear every sound you make. “Fucking tell me!” he practically shouts, nails digging into the skin of your leg.
“F-feel so good, Hao,” you moan, cheeks wet with tears. “I-I- You… Belong to you, please.”
He chuckles at your state, pulling your head back even more. “That’s right, my stupid whore.” he says through gritted teeth, his cock twitching inside of you.
“Gonna cum inside of you again, m-make you a mommy, hm?” he lets go of your hair, your face helplessly falling back into the pillow. His free hand goes down to pinch your clit softly, rolling the nob between his fingers. “You can cum, baby. Cum around my cock, want to feel it.” he says, fingers now rubbing your overstimulated clit.
You moan loudly, his cock massaging your g-spot with every harsh thrust inside of you. His words are all it take to come undone, the overpowering orgasm taking over your body, making your limbs shake and having you weakly fall down flat on the mattress.
Minghao groans behind you, the feeling of your walls tightening making him empty his cum deep inside of you again.
You fist the covers between your fingers, body twitching trying to recover.
You can’t really think anymore, soft sounds leaving your lips when Minghao slowly pulls his softening cock outside of you. He carefully rolls you over, fighting a wicked smile when he pushes his thumb against your abused clit, making you jerk in surprise.
“M’not done yet,” he chuckles, two of his fingers pushing right back into you. You gasp in surprise, your arm coming up to stop him. He pins your arm down on the mattress in response. “Take it, or I’ll be really disappointed in you.” he tells you, slowly moving his digits inside of you, pushing his cum back inside of you. “If you need me to stop I will.” he looks at you, his lips pushing in a tight line.
He hums when you don’t say anything, fingers tauntingly circling your bundle of nerves. “You’re perfect, y/n. Doing so good.” he praises you, adding another finger.
“‘Nghao…” you moan, pushing your eyes shut at the staggering but painful pleasure. “So hard…” you groan, your hips moving up to meet his movement.
“I know, dear, but you’re taking it amazingly.”
Another orgasm is ripped from your body with a few more draws of his fingers, a long string of moans filling the air.
Your back presses into the bed tiredly, nearly seeing stars.
After what feels like minutes you open your eyes, looking at Minghao while trying your best to catch your breath. He gives you a small smile, rubbing your thighs softly to comfort you.
“Let’s get you cleaned up.” he says, getting up from the bed. You watch him put his boxers back on, and he carefully helps you up to walk you to his bathroom.
There’s a weird tension between the two of you when he draws you a bath, your mind scattered thinking how this would change everything. He is your boss after all.
Minghao helps you wash yourself, taking his time making sure you feel comfortable. You sit in the bath while he takes a shower, the soft sounds of him humming and the running water filling the air.
“I’ll get you some clothes.” he says once he steps out of the shower, disappearing before coming back with a clean set of clothes. He helps you out of the bath, grabbing a towel and wrapping the fabric around your body.
“It’s okay, I can do it.” you affirm when he goes to help you dry off, giving you a nod before leaving you in the spacious bathroom.
You let out a sigh, taking your time getting dressed. You see yourself in the mirror, noticing the dark marks in your neck and covering your thighs. You can still feel him touching you, feel his cock inside of you.
Fuck, you’re damned, not sure why you loved every second of it, already craving more of him. y/n he’s your boss for god sake, you have to remind yourself. He’s Minghao. Your feelings are all over the place, stuck between wanting him and resenting him.
Will he at least treat you better? Appreciate everything you do for him? You only hope he won’t be such a nightmare to work with anymore, yet it doesn’t really matter. You’ve dealt with it before and you will again, because that’s your job; making Minghao’s difficult life easier.
“You’ll stay over, right?” Minghao asks when you walk back into his bedroom, a little taken aback by his words. For some reason you expected him to laugh in your face if you assumed to stay, not even daring to thinking about such a thing.
He’s sitting on his bed, his body on display. You look at him, pausing for a second. “I guess that’ll be easier,” you answer, having to come back to his apartment anyway tomorrow.
“All your stuff is here? You don’t have to get something at your place tomorrow?”
You nod. “My bag is in your office.” you confirm, standing in front of him awkwardly. Minghao hums, pulling you closer to him. “Go sleep. Do you want something to drink first? Eat?” he asks you. You pause.
“You haven’t eaten dinner.” you remember, letting him pull you beside him on the bed. You pull the covers over your legs, sitting up while looking at him.
Minghao chuckles. “I’m asking you.” he lays down next to you, turning his body to face you, his elbow pressing into the bed while keeping his head up with his hand.
“I’ll order us some stew, tomorrow’s going to be hectic.” he says when you don’t reply, reaching for his phone on his nightstand.
You spend the next few hours watching some documentary about psychology, not much talking between the two of you while you finish the spicy kimchi soup Minghao insisted was the best in the city, a comfortable atmosphere between the two of you before you finally drift off to sleep beside him.
PAIRING: Jester!Jeonghan x Princess!Reader
SUMMARY: You've spent your entire life hiding behind the mask of a princess, forced to perform perfection at every moment. There is a single person who see's beyond your mask, but you see beyond his too - and you don't think the jester is as harmless as everyone thinks.
WC: 6,244
AU: Royalty, Implied Magical AU
GENRE: Smut
RATING: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.
WARNINGS: Mild mentions of what's proper/what's not in a royal society, reader being frustrated and having repressed feelings of desire and arousal, sexually explicit content featuring vaginal fingering, some mild dirty talk, mild biting, mild exhibitionism (hooking up where anyone could find them), the use of pet names (love / good girl), Jeonghan being a bit of a menace, some magical ambiguity at the end re: Jeonghan, he's kinda a weird lil guy in this I don't know how to explain it, he's implied to be dangerous but he doesn't do anything necessarily scary on paper.
A/N: This is for my milestone request for @gimmegoodname! And part 8348934 of Hali doesn't know how to keep to a reasonable request word count :) Thank you jesus for landing on Jester and Jeonghan - this actually is not at all what I originally intended to write but fuck it we ball because the other idea would have taken me aprox 40k words lmfao
AN 2: This is not beta read so I’m sorry - there will definitely be mistakes! I did proof read/spelling and grammar check but I often miss a lot!
MAIN M. LIST | ASK | FOR MY MILESTONE EVENT
ORANTE PARTIES ARE PERHAPS YOUR LEAST FAVORITE RESPONSIBILITY AS A PRINCESS.
The castle's grand ballroom has been transformed into a glittering display of excess, the crystal chandeliers reflecting torchlight and dappled shadows across polished marble floors, the heavy velvet drapery covering the walls in hues of crimson and midnight blue - all of it tailored to make the inside of the room feel like something from another world.
You hate every inch of it. You hate the weight of your gown and its scratchy material, you hate how you can feel the bone stitching of the corset digging into your ribs, you hate the brittle laughter and the clink of crystal goblets, the venomous whispers behind delicate gossamer fans. Most of all, you hate the way every eye in the room seems to track your every movement, measuring you, judging you, waiting for the perfect princess to make a single mistake so they can talk about it with practiced smiles.
A bard stands at the center of the hall, his fingers dancing over the strings of a lute as he sings a soulful ballad of lovers lost in the heat of one another, of stolen touches and a kind of passion you'll never understand. You wonder what it might be like to experience something like that, to be touched by someone who wants you so badly they risk everything, to have hands on your skin that aren't bound by protocol and propriety. To do something dangerous and sinful, to have someone hold you the way those lovers in the song held each other, with urgency and desire instead of duty.
You'll never be that, of course. You are forever bound to this kingdom where the entire world is your stage, where you must remain untouched and controlled, and you're constantly expected to perform.
You're not the only one performing tonight, of course. You're halfway through a painfully boring conversation with the Lord of Coin regarding taxes when a burst of laughter cuts through the murmur of the party. Your gaze drifts against your will toward the small crowd forming near the arched windows, and though you can't see the man at the center of their attention, you know he's there.
The court jester's voice drifts toward you, mischief wrapped in pretty velvet clothes and a silly hat. You'd seen him earlier tonight, dressed in his best midnight blue velvet doublet and matching pants, little crystals stitchy to the fabric to make it look like he's lost in a midnight sky. His eyes had been filled with particularly vicious mischief when they'd landed on you, but your father had whisked you away to greet the Lady of Harvest before the fiend could slink your way.
Jeonghan is a fiend. You are perhaps the only person at court who thinks behind the practiced smiles, card tricks and juggling that there's something far more dangerous, but you've never been able to convince anyone of it. And why should anyone agree with you? Jeonghan is favored among the court for his wit, rhymes and tricks, thrilling the men and charming the women as he slides through each party like smoke, taking the shape of whatever his audience desires most.
A fresh wave of laughter erupts from his audience, brighter and more genuine than anything else you’ve heard tonight. It makes your skin itch and you turn away from the crowd, focusing back on the conversation at hand and determined not to let Jeonghan ruin your night like he does at most parties, determined to vex you and make you feel affronted and flushed and-
No.
You shove him from your mind as the conversation drags on while you sip spiced wine from your glass. As the Lord of Coin talks, you wonder what it would be like to leave this room. To go get somewhere lost in the city below. To fall into the bed of someone who would touch you like the lovers in the bard’s song, someone who smells like sandalwood and smoke and whose smile is sharp and familiar.
For now, you stay put and keep your eyes on the lord in front of you, ignoring the growing laughter coming from Jeonghan's corner. You hate that he enthralls them so - hate that even though you’re suspicious of him, he charms you in his own way, worming into your thoughts on lonely days, leading your mind astray to wonder how it is he does those tricks of his.
Your father appears suddenly, the Lord of Coin fumbling over whatever he was saying about inflation as the king puts a hand on your shoulder, grinning jovially. "Lord Hastings, forgive me, but I'm here to steal my daughter and spoil her with the fun part of the night!"
"Of course, Your Majesty!" Lord Hasting bows. "Thank you for the conversation, Your Highness."
"The gratitude is all mine, Lord Hastings," you nod, letting your father spin you away as dread knots in your stomach.
The crowd near the arched windows opens up as you approach, the members of the court bowing as you and your father approach the entertainment. Torchlight flickers on their faces, showing how flushed with delight they are as they watch the spectacle in front of them. Jeonghan stands in the middle of the, his midnight doublet fitting him perfectly as the crystals sparkle with his every movement.
Though the jester hat might look silly on anyone else, Jeonghan makes it look fashionable. His long, dark hair frames his angelic face, all sharp cheekbones and carefully sloped nose. His dark eyes find yours immediately, flashing as he grins. Your heart skips a little but you remain uneffected, staring at him as he juggles three daggers for the crowd as they ooo and ahhh at him.
You watch as the blades flash in the torchlight, each one caught cleanly while people gasp and clap. A lady nearby giggles behind her fan just as Jeonghan makes the daggers disappear into his sleeves with a quick motion. The crowd claps as he grins and bows politely, his dark eyes finding you again.
Irritation simmers, your gaze locking onto his and holding it. While everyone seems impressed, your instincts scream danger, wolf in fool’s clothing. The corner of his mouth tilts upwards as he steps toward you, the smell of his sandalwood and smoke clinging to him.
"Your Highness," he greets smoothly. "You look bored. Let me change that."
You say nothing but your father claps, his laughter booming as Jeonghan starts his performance. Cards fly from his hands in quick patterns and your attention is drawn upward as they flit through the air. He dances away from you and leans toward Lord Jeon, plucking a card from behind his ear before flicking his hand and turning it into a coin. The crowd laughs and claps as you stand there stiffly, watching as he charms his way through the nobles until he comes back toward you.
Jeonghan stops in front of you and holds out his hand, bowing slightly at the waist. The crystals on his double clink together as you stare at him, your stomach twisting when he looks up at you through his dark, silky lashes. To anyone else, the look might be reverent, but you see it for what it is - hunger.
"For the best trick tonight, I need a volunteer," he murmurs. The crowd claps excitedly and when you glance at your father, the king urges you forward, excited. “Your Highness, would you do me the honor?”
Swallowing thickly, you place your hand in Jeonghan's. His skin is warm, sending a spark of heat up your arm as he guides you toward the center of the circle where he spins you in a twirl, the skirts of your dress flaring. The lords and ladies clap, delighted and shouting how beautiful you look, how wonderful their princess is. Jeonghan’s touch lingers a moment longer than necessary before he grins and lets go, eyes glued to you as he circles you like a wolf might its prey.
When he stops, he leans close enough that you can see the silver threading in his collar and the way his sleeves are tailored to allow free movement, probably full of pockets for all of his cards and daggers and other baubles he uses for his performances. He's close enough that the sandalwood and spice makes your lashes flutter, making you think of something dark - not at all the cheery jester he claims to be.
"Try not to look so afraid," he murmurs, low enough that only you can hear him. "The court might think you're afraid of a simple card trick."
"I'm not afraid," you snap.
"No? Then why is your pulse racing?"
You grimace. Ever the observationalist, seeing far more than anyone ever dares to give him credit for.
"Do your trick, jester," you growl.
Jeonghan grins as he produces a deck of cards from one of his sleeves, fanning them out again. "Choose any card but don't show me, love."
Ignoring the casual way he uses a pet name entirely unfit for his station, you select a card from the middle of the deck and when you flip it, you see the seven of swords. You angle it away from him, eyes darting between him and the card. His eyes watch you closely, the heat of them making you fight off a shiver.
"Show the crowd, I'll look away. Cross my heart and hope to die."
You roll your eyes when he turns his back to you. The crowd leans in as you flip the card, showcasing the front to them all. They all nod excitedly, tittering behind hands and fans until you flip the card back around, holding it close to your chest and away from Jeonghan.
"Good," he says when he turns back around, tucking the deck away in one of his sleeves. "Put the card against your palm, card face down."
You follow his instructions, holding your palm out with the card face down to conceal the seven of swords. Jeonghan reaches for your hand, his fingers warm as he presses his palm on top of yours, the card firmly kept between both of your hands. You hate the way your skin responds to the contact, the way the sudden awareness of him prickles up your arm.
"Do you trust me?" he murmurs.
"Hardly."
"Clever." He guides your pressed palms upward so that you're both holding the card between you, each of your hands pressing forward with equal force. "Good girl. Keep your hand steady."
A snarl works its way to your lips at the pet name, but before you can snap at him for the impropriety, Jeonghan shuffles closer and the crowd goes quiet. You realize how far away they seem, the sound dull like it's on the other side of a bubble. Jeonghan is close though - so close you have to tilt your chin up to look up at him, his eyes glittering as they watch you.
"You're quite good at playing a dutiful princess," he notes.
"You know nothing about me."
"Don't I?" His eyes search yours, and there's something sharp in his gaze, something that cuts through the fool's mask he wears. "I know you watch everything. I know you see more than you let on. I know you're the only person in this room who looks at me and wonders what I'm really doing here."
Your heart pounds harder, the rhythm so forceful you're certain he can see it in the pulse at your throat. He's far too close and far too observant for a mere jester. The air between your palms feels charged, almost electric, and you're acutely aware of every inch of space he occupies. You want to step back, to put distance between you and whatever game he's playing, but the crowd is watching and so is the king. So you look onward, staring at him as he smirks.
"Breathe," Jeonghan says, softer now, and there's something almost gentle in his tone that makes it worse somehow. "You're holding your breath, love."
“Stop calling me that.”
"Nervous?"
You glare. "No."
His grin widens a fraction. "Liar."
The word hangs between you, intimate and dangerous. No one else speaks to you like this. No one else would dare, but Jeonghan isn't like the others at court. He refuses to be cowed by your title and your cold shoulder, protected by the silly little performance he puts on, convincing others that he's a fool. It gives him a freedom that feels threatening, and you're the only one who seems to notice.
The hand that isn't pressed against yours moves, tracing a slow circle in the air around where your palms are joined. The movement is hypnotic, and you find yourself following the movement, watching as he repeats the motion a few times. For a moment, you feel a little hazy, eyes fluttering as your thoughts grow foggy. Then, your mind sharpens again, Jeonghan’s intense gaze coming into focus.
"Picture your card," he instructs, loud enough for the crowd to hear. "Imagine exactly what it looks like - the edges, the images. The way it's shaped. The colors used, the details of the card face."
You think of the seven of swords, trying to focus on the image of it, trying to use it as an anchor against the way your pulse races. It's difficult to do so with the warmth radiating from his palm and the way his breath stirs the air between you. He's close enough that you can count every one of his eyelashes and see the way his dark eyes catch the light from the chandeliers overhead.
As you try and picture the curling red numbers on the card and blue paint of the swords, you let your eyes flit over his sleeves. His hands. His pockets. You try to work out what exactly the charade is, ready to catch him in his trickery. You always try, and you always fail, never quite able to pin down the source of the performance.
"You're thinking about the card," he says, dropping his voice again so only you can hear. "But you're also thinking about how I'm doing this. Trying to work it out. Trying to catch me." You don't answer, feeling the heat hit your chest and cheeks as you flush under being caught. Jeonghan smirks, nodding. "You also don’t like being caught. Are you afraid of what I'll see when I look at you?"
"You see nothing, jester."
"Untrue." He tilts his head slightly, studying you with an intensity that makes your skin prickle. "I see someone who's hungry to be wanted. Someone who wants to be touched like those lovers in the ballad the bard was singing, with heat and urgency and desperate desire. Someone who wishes there was a person bold enough to touch her the way a princess is never supposed to be touched. To want her not because of the crown but despite it." His eyes glint with something darker. "And I see someone who looks at me and knows exactly what I am. A wolf in fool’s clothing, right?”
You want to deny it, but the words stick in your throat. You hate that Jeonghan is right and that he sees through you as easily as you see through him. There's a part of you that's always craved this kind of understanding, someone who could look past the crown and what lies beneath, but not like this. Not from him.
Being known by Jeonghan feels like standing naked before a predator, and the worst part is that you're not entirely certain you want to cover yourself. Your chest tightens with the contradiction of it, the simultaneous ache to be truly seen and the primal need to hide from his gaze.
"Now," Jeonghan says, and his voice drops again, intimate and teasing. "I'm going to find your card without ever touching the deck again. Without you saying a word." He leans in, just slightly, and you can feel the whisper of his breath against your temple, warm and deliberate. Your skin tingles where it touches. "Would you like to know how?"
You can't answer. Your throat has gone tight, and you're frozen there, caught between the urge to pull away and the strange, unwanted pull that keeps you rooted in place.
"I'm going to read your mind," he murmurs, and his lips are so close to your ear now that you feel each word as much as hear it. "I'm going to look into those careful, guarded eyes and see exactly what else you're hiding."
Your hands are shaking now, both of them, and you know he can see it. The crowd can probably see it too, but they likely think it's part of the act, part of the performance. They don't know that your heart is hammering so hard it hurts, that every nerve in your body is screaming at you to move, to step back, to break whatever spell he's weaving.
"It's the seven of swords," Jeonghan says, and his voice is soft enough to raise the hair on your arms.
Your eyes widen before you can stop yourself, before you can school your expression into something more controlled. The reaction is instinctive, damning, and you see the exact moment he registers it. See the satisfaction that flickers across his face.
"There it is," he murmurs, so quietly that you almost don't hear it over the blood rushing in your ears. "That's what I wanted to see."
Suddenly he steps back, and the loss of his proximity should be a relief but instead feels like an absence. His hand that was mirroring yours drops away to reveal that the card that was pressed between your palms is no longer there. You frown, mouth falling open slightly as he reaches toward your face. You go still as his fingers brush the edge of your jaw, feather-light and deliberate. It's barely contact at all, the barest whisper of his fingertips against you, but you feel it everywhere.
When he pulls his hand away, he's holding a card between two fingers, flicking it to show you the seven of swords. The crowd erupts in applause and delighted exclamations, the sound washing over you while you stare at him. You want to know how he did it, to know what you missed. Had his whispers distracted you from when he placed it there? Was it a trick of the light?
"Your Highness," Jeonghan says, and his voice is pitched for the crowd now, all performance and charm. He bows deeply, flourishing the card. "Thank you for your assistance."
When his eyes meet yours again, they tell a different story. They say he knows exactly what effect he's had on you. That he planned it, wanted it, enjoyed watching you unravel. It makes you step back, putting necessary distance between you as your heart hammers, your pulse deceiving you.
You excuse yourself as soon as the opportunity presents itself, your father turning to another lord as he laughs about something and the crowd pressing around Jeonghan, cutting him off from you. No one notices when you slip away from the gathered nobles, picking up the skirts of your dress as you rush for the exit, skin overheating.
Cool night air washes over you as you step into the gardens and away from all the noise and eyes. The sound of the ballroom has long since faded behind you, replaced by the gentle rustle of leaves and the soft trickle of water from the fountain somewhere deeper in the garden. You inhale deeply, letting the scent of roses and night-blooming jasmine fill your lungs, trying to steady the frantic beating of your heart.
The gardens are empty. Everyone is inside, drinking and dancing and watching Jeonghan perform his tricks. Out here, there's only moonlight filtering through the branches overhead, casting everything in silver and shadow. The paths wind between tall hedges and rose bushes, their blooms pale in the darkness. Your footsteps are quiet on the stone walkway as you move deeper into the maze, away from the ballroom, away from the noise and the eyes and the suffocating weight of your crown.
You walk without direction, letting your feet carry you past marble statues and flowering vines that climb the garden walls. The moonlight catches on the petals of white roses, making them glow like ghosts. Everything is still and quiet, peaceful in a way the ballroom could never be.
Out here, you can think. Out here, you can try to make sense of what just happened.
Except you can't make sense of it. Can't explain why Jeonghan's proximity affected you so deeply, why his whispered words felt like they were carving themselves into your skin, why the loss of his touch left you aching in ways you don't want to examine. You barely know him. You don't trust him. And yet-
"Running away, Your Highness?"
You spin around, heart leaping into your throat to see Jeonghan standing in the middle of the path behind you as though he's materialized from the shadows themselves. His little hat is nowhere to be found, dressed only in the velvet outfit with crystals glittering like stars. The moonlight above catches in his dark hair, turning it silver at the edges. His eyes gleam, and you become hyperaware of the unnatural quiet of his presence.
"I needed air," you say, trying to keep your voice steady.
"Mm." Jeonghan takes a step closer, his movements fluid and unhurried. "Or you needed to escape me."
You don't answer - can't answer, because he's right and you both know it. He moves closer still, slow and deliberate, and you suddenly feel like he's a wolf giving the sheep time to run if it wanted to. You don't run, your feet planted to the stone path even as your pulse hammers in your throat, even as every instinct screams that you should walk away.
"You know," Jeonghan says conversationally, stopping just within arm's reach, "most people can't wait to be near me. They laugh at my jokes, beg for my tricks, hang on my every word." His head tilts slightly, studying you. "But you? You look at me like I'm something dangerous."
"You are dangerous," you say before you can stop yourself. “Even if I can’t prove it.”
His smile is slow and devastating. "Yes. I am."
The admission should frighten you. Instead, it sends heat curling through your belly, making your breath catch in your chest. He's standing close enough now that you can see the way the moonlight plays across his features. He's beautiful, with a sharp jawline and elegant nose, the curve of his mouth full and dangerous, the kind of beauty that bards say is dangerous, luring people into the spider’s web.
"But that's not why you ran," Jeonghan continues.
"It's not?"
He shakes his head. "You ran because of what I said in there. Because I saw through you, and you didn't like it."
"You don't know anything about me."
He takes another step, and now he's close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from him, can see the way his gaze travels deliberately over your face, your throat, the rapid rise and fall of your chest.
"I already proved that isn't true, love."
Your breath catches. Heat floods your cheeks, your chest, spreading through your entire body. "You're far too presumptuous and entirely impromper."
"I'm observant."His eyes meet yours, and there's something raw in them now, something that makes your stomach flip. "And I know you felt it too. In the ballroom, when I was close to you. The way your breath changed. The way you leaned toward me even as you tried to pull away. The way you're looking at me right now, like you can't decide if you want to run or-"
"Or what, jester?" You demand, huffing. "If you know me so well, just say it."
Jeonghan's smile turns predatory. "Or if you want to stay right here and let me show you what you desire, no matter how improper it is."
Your heart is pounding so hard you're certain he can hear it. "You wouldn't dare."
"Wouldn't I?" He takes one more step, closing the distance until you can feel his breath against your lips, until you're backed against the rough bark of a tree you didn't realize was behind you. "I'm not afraid of your crown, love. I'm not afraid of what anyone would say or do. I'm not afraid of you."
The words send a thrill down your spine that you absolutely should not feel. His hand comes up, not touching you but hovering just beside your face, close enough that you can feel the heat of his palm against your cheek. You grit your teeth, refusing to lean into the hand the way you want to, refusing to give him the satisfaction again tonight.
"Why risk it, then?" You ask. "Only a fool would."
"I am a fool," he agrees. "Let me show you how foolish I am. Let me show you what it's like to be touched and desired. Let me show you what I've wanted to do since the moment I've met you and how I want to make you come undone. Let me make you lose all that polished control you loathe so much."
You should say no. Should push him away. Should remember every reason this is a terrible idea. But your body isn't listening to your mind, and you find yourself leaning toward him, drawing by the magnetic pull you've been fighting all evening.
"What do you say," he asks, hand coming to cradle your face and tilt it upward until you're looking at him with half-lidded eyes. "Do you want your desires answered?"
You lick your lips and his eyes track the movement, pupils expanding. Swallowing dryly, you give the shallowest nod, damning yourself to desire, to the feeling of being wanted and seen.
It's all he needs. Jeonghan's eyes darken, and then his mouth is on yours and the world narrows to just the heat of his lips, the press of his body as he crowds you back against the tree, the rough bark catching on the fabric of your gown. He kisses you like he's starving for it, deep and demanding, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that makes your knees weak.
You gasp into his mouth and he swallows the sound, one hand tangling in your hair while the other grips your hip hard enough to bruise. The kiss is nothing like you imagined. It's not gentle or reverent or careful, but instead it’s consuming, devastating, the kind of kiss that you never knew existed.
He tastes like wine and something darker, something that makes you want more even as your lungs burn for air. His teeth catch your lower lip and you whimper, your hands coming up to clutch at his shoulders, feeling the lean muscle beneath the fabric of his costume.
"I've wanted this for so long," Jeonghan murmurs against your mouth, then trails his lips down your jaw to your throat. "Wanted you. Do you know how difficult it was to keep my hands to myself during that trick? To stand so close and not touch you the way I really wanted to?"
His teeth graze your pulse point and you can't stop the sound that escapes you, half gasp, half moan. He makes a satisfied noise low in his throat, then his hand slides from your hip to your thigh, gathering the heavy fabric of your gown and pulling it up as you pant against the tree, your head digging into the bark.
"Tell me to stop," he says, but his fingers are already tracing the inside of your thigh, moving higher. "Tell me you don't want this. Tell me all my chasing and teasing and prodding is for nothing and that I should leave."
“I can’t.”
"Fuck," Jeonghan breathes against your throat, and the crude word from his elegant mouth sends another wave of heat through you.
His fingers find the edge of your undergarments and he pulls them aside with deliberate slowness, exposing you to the cool night air. When his fingers press against you directly, finding you already slick, you bite down on your lip to keep from crying out. The gardens are secluded and shadowed, but not so far from the ballroom that sound wouldn't carry.
"Don't," Jeonghan says, his free hand coming up to pull your lip from between your teeth. "I want to hear you. Want to know exactly what I'm doing to you. Want to hear every sound you make when I touch you like this."
His fingers slip between your slick folds and you do cry out then, unable to stop yourself. Your hands tighten on his shoulders, nails digging in through the fabric of his costume, and he groans like your pleasure is his own. You feel a shiver go through him and you realize he’s just as affected by you as you are by him and it makes the heat even worse, the knowledge that he wants you this badly turning your blood to fire.
"So wet," he murmurs, his fingers sliding through your folds, exploring you with maddening slowness. "So perfect. Is this what you were thinking about during the bard's song? Someone touching you like this? Making you fall apart?"
You can't answer. Can't form words. All you can do is gasp as his fingers circle your clit with devastating precision, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your entire body. Your legs turn molten and Jeonghan pins you against the tree with his hips, sliding one of his knees between your legs to keep you pried open for his hand.
"Answer me," Jeonghan demands. "Tell me what you were thinking about."
"Yes," you manage, the word coming out broken. "Yes, I was thinking about being touched."
His fingers press harder, moving in tight circles that make your vision blur. His fingers slide lower, teasing your entrance, and you can feel how wet you are, your entrance clenching around nothing as his fingers trace laze circles where you need him most, your hips twitching.
"I'm going to give you exactly what you want," he promises. "Going to make you come so hard you see stars.
He slides one finger inside you and you cry out, your back arching off the tree. He's watching your face with an intensity that should make you self-conscious, but you're too far gone to care, too lost in the sensation of his finger moving inside you, curling just right, finding spots that make you shake.
It feels so good - better than you imagined, even. Jeonghan is precise, leaning forward to leave bite marks and kitten licks up and down your neck as he works you slowly, finger pressing against your front wall in a way that sends you squirming against him. Your breath comes out in short, quick gasps, sweat gathering at the back of your neck as he fucks you with his finger, the wet press of his hand maddening.
"Look at you," Jeonghan murmurs, his voice rough with desire. "So beautiful like this. So desperate. I want to see you fall apart. Want to see your face when you come."
He adds a second finger and you whimper, your hands sliding from his shoulders to grip his arms, needing something to hold onto. The stretch is perfect, overwhelming, and when he curls his fingers inside you while his thumb finds your clit, you nearly sob, rolling your hips forward into his hand, thighs trembling as you clench down on his fingers.
"You're so tight," Jeonghan continues, his voice a dark purr in your ear. "So perfect around my fingers. I can feel how close you are. Can feel you clenching around me. Do you want to come, love? Do you want me to make you fall apart right here in the garden where anyone could find us?"
The thought should horrify you. Instead, it sends another wave of heat through you, making you clench harder around his fingers. You nod desperately, squeezing your eyes shut as your cunt throbs around his fingers and you writhe against the tree.
"You like that," he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice. "Like the danger of it. Like knowing that you're supposed to be in there playing princess while you're out here letting the court jester play with this pretty pussy."
His words are filthy and crude, and they shouldn't affect you the way they do, but combined with the movement of his fingers, the pressure of his thumb on your clit, the heat of his body pressed against yours, you feel overwhelmed and strung out, the feeling low in your stomach coiling and coiling and coiling until you're babbling and squirming and squeezing your eyes shut.
"Please," you gasp, and you're not even sure what you're begging for.
"I know what you need." His fingers move faster, harder, curling inside you with devastating precision. "You need to let go. Need to stop thinking and just feel. Need someone to take control so you don't have to be perfect for once in your life."
His thumb presses harder against your clit, circling in tight, relentless patterns, and you can feel the pleasure building to an impossible peak. Your thighs are shaking, your breath coming in desperate gasps. Jeonghan invades your senses - the smell of him, the heat of him, the way his teeth scrape against your neck, the way his hair tickles against your skin.
"You're mine right now," Jeonghan growls. "Not a princess. Not a performance. Just mine. Say it."
"Yours," you gasp. "I'm yours."
"Good girl. Now come for me. Let me feel it. Let me watch you fall apart."
His fingers curl one more time, hitting that perfect spot inside you while his thumb works your clit, and the orgasm crashes over you like a wave. You cry out, unable to stop yourself, your body convulsing against the tree as pleasure floods through you. You clench around his hand, throbbing as your body shakes until you feel like you can't breathe.
Jeonghan works you through it, his fingers never stopping, drawing out your orgasm until you're boneless and gasping and oversensitive. He's murmuring praise in your ear now - how beautiful you are, how perfect, how he wants to do this again and again until you can't remember your own name - and it makes you dizzy, feeling like you're drunk off of him alone.
Finally, the waves subside and Jeonghan withdraws his hand slowly. You feel the loss of him like an ache, your legs still trembling and barely holding you up. He brings his fingers to his mouth, and you watch through hazy eyes as he licks them clean, tasting you. The sight sends another pulse of heat through you despite your exhaustion.
"Delicious," he murmurs, his eyes dark and satisfied. "Even better than I imagined."
Reality begins to seep back in slowly. The cool night air on your heated skin. The distant sounds of the party still going on inside. The rough bark of the tree against your back. What you've just done, and who you've done it with.
You should feel ashamed. Should feel horrified. Should be scrambling to fix your dress and run back to the safety of the ballroom. You don't. You feel satisfied and boneless and strangely alive all at once, like you've finally done something that feels real instead of the pretty performance.
When you look up at Jeonghan, you see him watching you, his expression unreadable in the shadow of the tree. The breeze makes the leaves dance, kissing your cooling skin as his hand comes up to cup your face, thumb brushing across your cheek with surprising gentleness.
"Regrets?" He asks, voices soft as the smoke that clings to him.
You should say yes and that this was a mistake, that it can never happen again and that you need to return to the ballroom and pretend this never happened. You should remind him that this is improper and unacceptable. Yet instead, you find yourself leaning into his touch, lashes fluttering.
"No," you admit. "No regrets."
Something like satisfaction shifts in his gaze, and he leans in and kisses you again. This time it's different - softer and slower, less consuming and more like he's savoring the taste and feel of your lips against his. You kiss him back, your hands sliding up his chest, feeling the crystals click against your skin as his heart pounds beneath your palms.
When he finally pulls back, you're both breathing hard again, and your mind is spinning with questions you're not sure you want answered.
"How did you do it?" you ask suddenly.
Jeonghan tilts his head, a small smile playing at his lips. "Do what?"
"The card trick. In the ballroom."
His smile widens, and there's something dangerous in it now."I already told you. I read your mind."
You shake your head, confusion and disbelief warring inside you. "That would make you something magical. Not just a jester with clever tricks."
"Yes," Jeonghan agrees, his eyes gleaming in the moonlight. "It would."
The implication of his words hits you like a physical blow. Your breath catches, your mind racing through everything you know about him, everything you've seen, the way he seems to move through the world like something other. Like something more.
He's grinning now, watching the realization dawn across your face, and then he's kissing you again, harder this time, more possessive, like he's claiming you. Like he knows exactly what he's revealed and doesn't care. When he pulls back, his lips are still close enough that you can feel his breath against your mouth.
"You thought it yourself earlier, didn’t you?" he murmurs, teeth catching your bottom lip sharply. "I'm a wolf in fools' clothing."
What about seungcheol who loves to spoil reader who has a hard time accepting gifts and compliments. He can go a bit overboard sometimes when buying things he sees she likes but he just wants her to have everything she wants
forgive me for how long this took, i got real sick and work got INSANE!
god bless whoever seungcheol ends up dating because this is a headcanon i wholeheartedly believe in!
pairing: idol!seungcheol x surgeon!reader
genre: fluff
wc: 1.5k
warnings: mentions of surgery, reader thinks their car gets stolen
The balls of your feet have been aching since you started your shift but in the last hour, the ache has morphed into a burn. Pins and needles are shooting up your spine as you stretch over your patient's stitches.
"Scissors," you call out, a millisecond later the tool you asked for is placed into your gloved hand, the blades of the tool glinting under your headlamp. Finishing your last corner stitch, the tension in your arms and shoulders finally release with the breath that you let out. You thank your team for their work and ask for one of the residents on the case to update the family. Normally, this is a task you like to take care of but with how today went, all you want is the comfort of your bed.
Tossing your scrubs in the designated bin, you opt to forego a shower in fear that you'll fall sleep and bear the humiliation of a fellow attending finding you. As you make your way out of the double doors, you swipe to your conversation with your boyfriend, Seungcheol. The last time you texted was 8 hours ago, right before you were supposed to go home.
Got pulled into emergency surgery :(( Might be a while, don't wait up. Sorry I couldn't welcome you home.
S'okay baby, the guys all wanna grab drinks dinner anyways.
At least I'll wake up to your gorgeous face tomorrow.
You know I look like a zombie in the morning…
Have fun with the boys! Drink water when you get home!
Seungcheol had just wrapped a tour and was on his way home. Today was supposed to be an easy day — rounds, 2 consultations, and a laminectomy. All of that you could do in your sleep. But then one of your consultations turned into a terminal diagnosis and your minimally invasive laminectomy converted to open back surgery. Even with those two hiccups, you were still set to get home before he was. As you were about to leave, the head nurse of your unit called out that an emergency surgery was coming up in the next ten.
You're about to wave him off and tell him that it should be for the on-call surgeon, but he cut you off telling you that Dr. Na was already in another surgery. And that's how you ended up treating a GSW to the neck that leaves you unable to celebrate your boyfriend's homecoming.
You send him a quick message saying you'd be home in the next 20 to see if he was still up. Sighing, your thumb hovers over the call icon. He's likely already asleep —either jetlagged, drunk, or both. Choosing not to bother him, your phone gets shoved into your back pocket and you fish your car keys out of your bag. Entering the third floor of the parking garage, you click the unlock button, but you don't hear the familiar beep of your car.
A frown makes it's way on your face before you click the button again, believing that you must have imagined not hearing your car. But when you press it again, there's still no sound. Looking up, you don't see your car in it's normal spot.
"Fucking great," you mutter out.
Who the fuck steal's a doctor's car?! (Lots of people probably, you're a world class surgeon). Wildly annoyed, you fish your phone out your pocket to call a taxi, you'll be damned if you wake up your boyfriend to come get you. Realizing the spotty service you have in the garage, you make your way out to the street to hail for a ride home. Exiting the garage, you're expecting an empty street, but what greets you is your very handsome, very famous boyfriend leaning against his cherry red sports car.
He's wearing a mask, but nothing can hide the smile in his eyes when he makes eye contact with you.
"Cheol? W-what are you—" He cuts you off when he wraps you in a hug and lifts you off your feet. Whispering iterations of "I missed you" and "I love you" as he peppers kisses all over your face. Urging him to let you down, you ask what he's doing here.
"Picking you up silly! Oh!" He turns around and steps back to grab something from the car and he returns with a bouquet of deep red roses.
"I know these aren't your favorite flowers, but this was what I could find this late." You take them hesistantly and thank him. Another gentle peck and he gently guides you towards the car, his hand on the small of your back as he opens the car door for you. While you wait for him to go around to the driver's side, your mind is racing a mile a minute. You're still trying to figure out what to do about your car, you've barely recovered from work, and you're in absolute shock that your boyfriend decided to come and pick you up.
When he finally gets into the car, he immediately senses the alarm bells in your head. Gently placing his hand on your cheek, he turns your fave towards him.
"What's goin' on in that pretty lil head of yours?"
"Cheol, I'm really happy to see you, I really am…" Your pause isn't for dramatic effect, it's to try and unscramble the word soup that is floating where your brain should be.
"But?"
You spill into how exhausting work had become and your words are coming out of your mouth faster than your brain can process. Before you know it, you're freaking out about the fact that you think your car was either stolen or towed. He has to squeeze your shoulders to remind you to breathe.
"Your car is fine love, don't worry about it," he says as he rubs circles into your very tense, very raised shoulders.
"How can you say that?! You don't know that! Cheol I can't think str—"
"Baby, your car is fine. And I know because I took it home."
You look at Cheol like he had grown two heads. He sighs dejectedly and revs the car to life, the vibrations making you jump a bit. You're not quite sure by what your boyfriend means but before you can ask another question, he places a kiss to your cheek and tells you to wait for when you get home. Sure enough, when you get home your car is sitting in the driveway, looking just how it did when you parked it in the hospital's garage earlier in the day.
Seungcheol is basically guiding you out of the car and into your shared home. As he opens the door, he looks at you sheepishly.
"This was supposed to be a surprise but I can feel the frantic energy off you and that is the last thing you need," he warmly whispers against your ear. You peer into your apartment and it's covered in rose petals and bags as far as the eye can see. Guiding you inside, like he has been the entire time, your breath is caught in your throat.
"Cheol…" He shushes you by turning you to him and placing a kiss on your lips.
"I know. You're gonna say this is too much, unfortunately for you I don't believe in such a thing," he says as he jerks his head towards the plethora of gifts that litter your living room. He spins you back around towards the gifts and encourages you to start opening. Knowing that he's just as stubborn as you are, you comply. As you move towards them, he begins explaining how this situation even came about.
He confesses that he'd been planning this since the time you came to one of the stops of the tour. Luck seemed to go his way when their flight back into South Korea got in earlier than expected. It showed up for him again when he remembered that there was a spare key to your car inside his and once that fact came to light, he had Mingyu drive him over to the hospital. Jokingly he says that had you not been pulled in every direction during work, this plan likely would not have worked.
With each gift you open, you are finding it harder and harder to keep the tears in your eyes at bay. Although you aren't the biggest fan of your boyfriend spending exorbitant amounts of money on you, you have to give him credit. He always spoils you with things that you always want. Even things that you've only ever mentioned in passing. You point this out when you're unwrapping one of the boxes and you recognize the branded wrapping paper.
"Choi Seungcheol, you didn't!" You gasp as you pull out the limited edition bracelet from under the paper. You try to wrap your mind around the fact that you had only talked about this bracelet once and it was to whine about the fact that you had missed the deadline to pre-order it before it sold out. He pinches your side softly for using his full name but kisses your shoulder after you tell him how much you love it.
"And that's exactly why I'll spend every cent on you. The way your smile feels is a high I'll chase to the ends of the earth."
—𖨆♡⃛𖨆 calmbf!seungcheol x f!reader genre: SMUT. established relationship synopsis: a long makeout session turns into something so so much more rating: 18+ minors do not interact!!!! warnings/content: makeout sesh, floor sex, unprotected sex(irl wrap it up ppl), softdom!seungcheol?, praising, creampie, different positions, p in v, multiple orgasms, eye contact, shower sex, bit of edging, bit of dirty talk, bit of oral f!receiving and m!receiving authors yap note: guys it’s been SOOO long hope everyone’s doing good i’ve had so many exams but few weeks ago they finished so now im finally free🙏(not for long tho.). since its been a while i decided to js bless u guys w smut and a whole damn lot of it my brain is so fried ik my descriptions are fine but lets hope my smut writing isn’t rusty enjoyy mwah <3 requests are always open xxx
MASTERLIST
the sun had dipped below the seoul skyline, painting the city in hues of amber and violet. seungcheols apartment living room was bathed in dim, warm light—only a few lamps switched on, casting long shadows across the plush carpet. music drifted from the speakers, some moody R&B playlist y/n had put on an hour ago, the bass low and thrumming through the floorboards.
she was lounging on the massive sectional, legs folded under her, scrolling through her phone. she’d changed into a loose, oversized sweater—one of seungcheol's actually—and tiny black shorts that disappeared beneath the hem. her hair was still slightly damp from her shower.
seungcheol walked in from the kitchen, a glass of water in hand. he’d changed into a simple gray t-shirt and joggers, his feet bare. his hair was still a little messed from the day.
"you’re wearing my sweater," he observed, settling onto the couch beside her.
"i’m stealing your sweater."
"clearly."
she grinned at him. "it’s comfortable. you should be flattered."
"i am." he set his glass on the side table and leaned back, arm draping along the back of the couch behind her. "what are you listening to?"
she angled her phone toward him. "that new R&B album I found. the one with the really good beat."
he listened for a moment. a slow, sultry track was playing—a woman's voice layered over a pulsing beat. the kind of song that made you want to move slow and close.
"good choice," he said.
they sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the music washing over them. y/n’s head drifted to rest against his shoulder. his hand found her hair, fingers threading through the damp strands, playing with the ends.
the next track started. slower. heavier. the bass vibrated through the floor.
y/n shifted, turning to face him. she straddled his lap in one fluid motion, settling onto his thighs, her knees pressing into the cushions on either side of him. the sweater rode up, exposing the skin of her thighs.
seungcheol’s hands found her hips instantly, a reflexive grip.
"hi," she said, voice low.
"hi." his eyes traced her face in the dim light. "what’s this?"
"i felt like being close."
"you’re always close."
"closer, then."
she didn't wait for his response. she leaned in and kissed him.
it started soft—just a brush of lips, testing. but the air shifted between them, thickening. when she pulled back slightly, her breath ghosted over his mouth.
his hands tightened on her hips.
she kissed him again, harder this time. her mouth opened against his, tongue sliding along his lower lip. a low sound rumbled from his chest—not quite a groan, not quite a hum.
her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging gently at the short strands at the nape of his neck. his hands slid up her back, pulling her flush against him, the thin cotton of his t-shirt the only barrier between them.
the music rose, a woman’s voice crooning about wanting someone so badly she could feel it in her bones. it matched the beat of y/n’s pulse.
she moaned into his mouth, a soft, breathy sound that made seungcheol’s grip tighten. he kissed her deeper, slanting his mouth over hers, tongue sweeping inside. she tasted like mint from her toothpaste, and something warmer underneath.
minutes passed. five. ten. neither counted.
their bodies moved together, instinctive and unthinking. y/n rocked her hips forward, a slow, deliberate grind against his lap. the friction sent a spark through her, even through the layers of fabric.
seungcheol’s breath hitched.
he broke the kiss, forehead pressed to hers, breathing hard. "y/n."
"mhm?"
"that’s—" he inhaled sharply as she did it again, a slow, circular roll of her hips. "that’s not helping me stay calm."
"who said I want you calm?"
she kissed his jaw, then his neck, lips dragging over his pulse point. his head fell back against the couch, eyes fluttering shut. her teeth grazed his skin lightly, and his hands flew to her hips again, gripping, guiding.
and then he did it.
he started grinding back.
it was subtle at first—just a small counter-movement as she rolled her hips. but then he took control, his hands firm, pulling her into a rhythm. slow, deep, deliberate. the pressure built between her legs, a delicious ache.
y/n gasped, her mouth falling open against his neck. "fuck, seungcheol."
his response was a low growl, his hips pushing up to meet hers. the friction was maddening—just enough pressure to tease, not enough to satisfy. the fabric of his joggers and her shorts created a frustrating barrier, but the heat between them was undeniable.
she kissed him again, messy and desperate. their teeth knocked together once, but neither cared. her hands roamed—up his chest, over his shoulders, into his hair. his hands slid down to grip her ass, pulling her harder against him.
the music shifted to another track, equally slow, equally heavy. the bass vibrated through them.
fifteen minutes. twenty.
they were both breathing hard now, the air between them thick and hot. y/n’s sweater had ridden up to her ribs, exposing the smooth skin of her stomach. seungcheol’s hands slipped under the fabric, palms flat against her back, pulling her closer.
"fuck," she breathed against his lips. "this is—"
"don’t stop."
she wouldn't dream of it.
half an hour in, her legs were trembling from the sustained position, but she didn't want to move. didn’t want to break the rhythm. his hands were everywhere—her hips, her thighs, the curve of her waist, slipping under the sweater to trace her spine.
she moaned, the sound swallowed by his mouth.
he responded by grinding harder, his hips pressing up into hers with more force. a sharp gasp escaped her, and she bucked against him involuntarily.
"jesus, y/n." his voice was rough, strained.
"don’t stop," she echoed, throwing his words back at him.
he didn't.
forty-five minutes. the music played on—a new song, then another. time had lost all meaning. the only thing that existed was the heat of his body, the slide of his tongue, the pressure building and building with no release in sight.
y/n was soaked. she could feel it through her shorts, the fabric growing damp. and judging by the way seungcheol’s breathing had gone ragged, the way his grip had turned almost bruising, he was in no better shape.
she pulled back just enough to look at him. his eyes were dark, pupils blown wide, lips swollen and red. his hair was disheveled from her fingers. he looked wrecked.
and he was looking at her.
"this is new," she murmured, voice husky. "you finally continuing the grinding."
he exhaled a shaky laugh. "you’re a bad influence."
"good influence." she rolled her hips again, slow and teasing. "i think it's hot."
"yeah?"
"yeah." she leaned in, lips brushing his ear. "you losing control a little. makes me feel powerful."
his hands tightened on her hips, almost painfully. "you feel powerful, huh?"
"mmhm."
he flipped them.
one moment she was on top, the next she was on her back, seungcheol hovering over her, his body pressing hers into the cushions. the surprise of it made her gasp, and then laugh, her hands coming up to frame his face.
"that’s one way to regain control," she said.
"regain?" he leaned down, lips ghosting over hers. "i never lost it. i just let you think you had it."
"liar."
"prove it."
she kissed him again, fierce and hungry. his thigh slid between hers, pressing against her core, and she arched into the contact with a stifled cry.
an hour. maybe more. they’d lost track completely.
the music was still playing—soft, sultry, a backdrop to the sounds of their breathing, their moans, the rustle of fabric. the living room was dark except for the lamplight. outside, the city glittered.
seungcheol’s mouth found her neck, kissing, sucking, teeth grazing. her head fell back, eyes closing, a long moan escaping her.
"fuck, cheol. just the making out is—" she couldn't finish the sentence. didn’t have the words.
"i know." his voice was a rumble against her skin. "i know."
he kissed her again, deep and slow, and she melted into him completely. her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, grinding up against him. the pressure was maddening, perfect, terrible.
another hour could have passed. or ten minutes. nothing existed except his mouth, his hands, the weight of his body pinning her down.
when they finally broke apart, gasping for air, both of them were a mess. her lips were swollen, his were red. her sweater was twisted around her torso, his t-shirt was bunched up around his ribs. her shorts were damp, and she could feel the evidence of his arousal pressed against her thigh.
he looked down at her, breathing hard, a strand of hair falling across his forehead.
"over an hour," he said, his voice hoarse.
"i know." she grinned up at him, flushed and breathless. "new record, maybe."
he let out a sound halfway between a laugh and a groan, dropping his forehead to her shoulder. "you’re going to kill me."
"but what a way to go."
he lifted his head, meeting her eyes. the look in them was intense, reverent.
"worth it," he murmured, echoing his thought from that morning. and then he kissed her again, slow and deep.
behind them, the music played on.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
by the time the playlist had looped twice, every article of clothing had been abandoned to the floor, and seungcheol had lifted her—her legs wrapped around his waist, mouth still locked on his—carried her to the rug in front of the cold fireplace.
the city glittered beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. the bass from the speakers thrummed through the floorboards. but neither of them heard it anymore.
the only sound that mattered was her.
seungcheol had her beneath him on the plush rug, her hair a halo around her face, her eyes glazed and unfocused. he was propped above her, his forearms bracketing her head, his hips nestled between her thighs.
he was still. just for a moment. feeling her.
she was already dripping, soaking, her body slick and ready. her cunt pulsed around nothing, clenching and releasing, desperate for him.
"cheol," she breathed, her voice wrecked already. "please. don’t make me wait."
he usually would. he usually made her beg, made her squirm, made her tell him exactly what she wanted. he usually drew it out until she was shaking.
but tonight, something was different.
the control he guarded so carefully—the measured patience—it was fraying at the edges. the way she looked up at him, flushed and wanting, her lips swollen from their earlier kissing, her body open and ready.
he couldn't hold back.
he entered her in one smooth, deep thrust.
not slow. not teasing. a single, decisive stroke that buried him to the hilt.
y/n’s back arched off the rug, a cry torn from her throat. "fuck—seungcheol—"
he groaned, his head dropping forward, his forehead pressing to hers. the heat of her. the tightness. the way she gripped him immediately, her walls clenching.
"y/n." her name was a prayer and a curse.
then he started to move.
there was no rhythm at first. no deliberate pacing. just pure, consuming need. he pulled back and drove in again, hard enough to make her gasp, hard enough to make the rug shift beneath them.
she took it. all of it. her legs wrapped around his waist, her heels digging into his lower back, pulling him deeper.
"like that," she moaned. "just like that."
"fuck, y/n, you feel—" he couldn't finish. the words dissolved into a groan as she clenched around him.
six minutes in, his composure was gone.
his thrusts had found a tempo, but it wasn't his usual measured cadence. it was rougher, hungrier. his hips slammed into hers, the sound of their bodies meeting loud and wet.
squelch. squelch. squelch.
the sound was obscene. every time he drove into her, the evidence of her arousal coated his cock, a thick, milky white ring visible at the base. it smeared across her inner thighs, pooled beneath her. the noise of it filled the room—a slick, rhythmic suction that matched his pace.
y/n’s head was thrown back, her mouth open, her moans incoherent. "cheol—cheol—fuck, cheol—"
"right there?" his voice a strained growl.
"yes—yes—don't stop—please—"
he hit something deeper. that spot only he had ever found. the one that made her vision white out and her toes curl. her eyes flew open, finding his, and she sobbed his name.
"seungcheol!"
"there." he drove into it again, harder. "right there, baby. i’ve got you."
the talk was fragmenting. he was supposed to be the one whispering praise, guiding her through it, keeping his voice steady and calm. but now he was groaning with every drive, his own control slipping, his own pleasure building faster than he could manage.
"y/n. fuck. you’re gonna make me—"
"please," she begged, not even knowing what she was asking for. more? release? both? "please, cheol—"
he couldn't answer. he just fucked her. harder. faster. the squelch grew louder, obscene and wet, her cream coating him entirely now, dripping down his balls, soaking into the rug beneath them.
her face was a picture of pure surrender. eyes rolled she, lips parted, cheeks flushed. She was gone. completely gone. just a vessel of pleasure, taking everything he gave her.
"cumming," she gasped, the word a broken whisper. "i’m cumming, cheol—"
"hold on," he managed, but his voice cracked.
she didn't hold on. she came—hard. her walls clamped down around him, pulsing, milking, and the sound that escaped her was a high, keening moan that dissolved into his name.
"fuck," he groaned, her climax triggering his own, threatening to pull him over the edge.
he pulled out.
it took every shred of willpower he had left.
her body shuddered, empty, her eyes flying open in confusion. "why—"
"i need—" he was breathing like he'd run a marathon. “i need to see you. i need—"
he pulled her with him, rolling them onto their sides so they faced each other. he lifted her leg over his hip, guided himself back inside, and sank into her warmth again.
the angle was different. deeper. sweeter.
her arms wrapped around his neck. his hand cupped her jaw.
and they started to kiss.
hungry. desperate. open-mouthed and messy. their tongues slid together, and she moaned into his mouth, and he swallowed every sound she made. his hips rocked into her, slower now but no less intense. every stroke was a statement, a need, a craving.
"cheol," she breathed against his lips.
"y/n." he kissed her again, then broke away to press his mouth to her neck. his teeth grazed her pulse, then clamped down—a sharp, possessive bite.
she gasped, her hips bucking.
he sucked a mark into her skin, hard enough that it would bloom purple by morning. a reminder.
"seungcheol," she moaned, her fingers threading through his hair, holding him there.
he moved lower, kissing her collarbone, biting again, marking her. she didn't stop him. she pushed into it, offering her throat to him like an altar.
"good girl," he whispered against her skin, and the praise made her clench around his cock. "such a good girl for me."
she was trembling. her moans were breathless, broken, staccato bursts against his ear. "cheol—i’m close—I'm so close—"
"me too." his voice was raw. "come with me."
he kissed her again, deep and consuming, and she moaned into his mouth as her second orgasm crested.
but he held on. just barely.
"i’m gonna fill you up," he growled. "gonna fill you up so good. take it. take all of it."
"yes—yes—cheol—now—please now—"
they broke the kiss at the same time. foreheads pressed together. Eyes locked.
she shattered.
her body convulsed around him, her moan a long, desperate cry of his name. and he followed her instantly, the sight of her face, the sound of her voice, the grip of her body—it pulled him under.
he groaned, long and low, his hips pressing into her, burying himself deep. he pulsed inside her, hot and thick, filling her exactly the way he'd promised. "good girl... take it all..."
they stayed like that. joined. breathing. shaking.
his forehead rested against hers. her hands were tangled in his hair. her legs were still wrapped around him, keeping him close.
he pulled out slowly, carefully, a trickle of his release escaping her. but he didn't move away. he stayed beside her, pulling her into his arms, her back against his chest, both of them slick with sweat and the evidence of what they'd done.
for a long moment, there was only breathing.
then she turned in his arms, facing him, and kissed him.
soft this time. lazy. a slow, tender exploration. her lips brushed his, gentle, reverent. he kissed her back, his hand sliding into her hair, cradling her head.
"love you," she murmured against his mouth.
"love you more." he kissed the corner of her lips. "so much."
she smiled, her eyes already heavy. the adrenaline was fading, replaced by a bone-deep exhaustion. the warm weight of his body, the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath her ear.
she kissed his chest, just once, a featherlight press of lips.
his hand traced lazy circles on her back.
the music had ended. the speakers were silent. the only sound was their breathing, slowing, deepening.
"should shower," he mumbled, his own voice thick with sleep.
"mm." she didn't move. "in a minute."
"just a minute," he agreed, his eyes already closing.
she tucked her face into the crook of his neck. his arm tightened around her. the city glittered beyond the window, but inside, they were cocooned in warmth and each other.
sleep came quietly. unexpectedly. without permission.
they didn't make it to the shower.
they didn't even make it to the bed.
they fell asleep right there on the rug, tangled in each other, his release still cooling on her thighs, her marks blooming on his neck and shoulders, the room still smelling of sex and love and surrender.
his last conscious thought was the feeling of her soft breath against his collarbone.
hers was the sound of his heartbeat, steady now, finally calm again.
and they slept.
⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹
the first thing y/n registered was the sunlight.
not the dim, moody glow of the city at night, but the soft golden wash of a seoul morning filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows. it painted the room in pale warmth, catching the dust motes floating lazily in the air.
the second thing was the ache.
a deep, pleasant soreness settled between her thighs. a pull in her lower back. the tender sting of teeth marks on her neck when she shifted against the pillow. every nerve ending felt raw and satisfied, like she'd been taken apart and put back together.
the third was seungcheol’s arm, heavy and warm, wrapped around her waist from behind.
she blinked awake slowly, her lashes sticky. the rug beneath them was rumpled, tangled, the evidence of last night's chaos pressed deep into the fibers. a dried slickness clung to her inner thighs—his release mixed with hers, a physical reminder of how thoroughly they'd broken each other.
she turned her head carefully.
seungcheol was awake. of course he was. work hours had permanently rewired his internal clock—he could function on four hours of sleep and still wake up at dawn. he was propped on one elbow, looking down at her with that calm, steady expression she knew so well. his dark hair was mussed, and neck marked with scratches from her nails.
"how long have you been watching me?" her voice came out rough, sleep-thick.
"long enough." he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "good morning, beautiful."
"good morning, mr. choi." she stretched, wincing pleasantly as her muscles protested. "i think you broke me."
his mouth curved into that quiet, possessive smile. "i think you broke me first."
she laughed softly, the sound raspy. "you let go last night. i’ve never seen you like that."
"i couldn't help it." His thumb traced her cheek, featherlight. "You were so perfect."
"don’t apologize. it was incredible."
"i’m not apologizing." he kissed the corner of her mouth. "i just... i usually keep myself in check.“
she smiled, reaching up to touch his face. "well, i like what I bring out of you."
she tried to sit up and immediately regretted it. every muscle in her lower body sang with overuse. her thighs ached. her hips ached. even her abs ached from the way she'd wrapped herself around him.
"oh, wow," she breathed, pressing a hand to her stomach. "i’m sore."
seungcheol’s smile deepened. "good."
"you’re insane."
"you love it." he sat up, then stood, offering her his hand. "come on. let’s get you cleaned up."
she took his hand, and he lifted her effortlessly—of course he did, with that build—her feet dangling as he carried her toward the bathroom bridal-style. she laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck.
"uhm i can walk."
"i know." he kissed her temple. "i don't want you to."
the bathroom was warm, steam already starting to rise as he adjusted the water. he set her down carefully on the edge of the massive tub, then stepped into the shower to test the temperature.
y/n watched him, this tall, composed man who spent his days working hard for others, standing under the spray completely naked, his back still marked with her scratches. the ridges were pink, raised. she’d gripped him hard last night.
"you have some new decorations," she said.
he glanced over his shoulder. "you mean the marks you left on me?"
"mmhm." she stood, walking toward him. "i think they suit you."
"you think everything suits me."
"it does."
she joined him under the water, the heat cascading over her shoulders, washing away the dried sweat and cum from the night before. she sighed, tilting her head back, letting it soak her hair.
seungcheol moved behind her, his hands finding her waist. he guided her under the stream, then reached for the body wash. he used her sponge and spread the soap across her shoulders, down her arms, over the curve of her hips.
he washed her slowly. deliberately. the same measured care he applied to everything.
"this is nice," she murmured, leaning back against his chest.
"i like taking care of you." his lips pressed to her wet shoulder. "you let me take care of you."
"always."
he turned her around to face him. the water streamed over them, steam swirling, their skin slick and warm. she looked down, then back up with a knowing smile.
"someone's feeling better already."
he was hard. thick and heavy between them, pressed against her stomach.
"you have that effect on me." his voice was calm, but there was heat underneath it. "every single time."
she sank to her knees.
the tile was cool against her skin, the water warm on her back. she looked up at him, her eyes meeting his, and wrapped her hand around the base of his cock. he was already slick from the water, heavy in her grip.
she took him into her mouth slowly. deliberately. mirroring his own patience.
his hand found her wet hair, fingers threading through it, not guiding—just holding. he let her work him at her own pace, her tongue sliding along his length, her lips sealing around him. she took him deep, her throat relaxing to accommodate him, and the sound he made was a low, appreciative groan.
"fuck, y/n."
she looked up at him while she sucked him, keeping eye contact the way he loved. his jaw was tight, his composure fraying at the edges again. but he didn't push. he let her control the pace.
after a long minute, he pulled her gently to her feet and pressed her back against the cool tile, the contrast making her gasp. then he dropped to his knees, lifted one of her thighs over his shoulder, and buried his face between her legs.
"cheol—"
"shhh." his voice was muffled against her flesh.
his tongue found her clit immediately, slow and deliberate, circling it with a precision that made her knees buckle. she grabbed the shower caddy for support, her knuckles white, her head falling back against the tile.
he ate her like a man savouring a meal. groaning against her flesh. his fingers slid into her, curling, searching, finding that deep spot that made her vision blur.
"fuck—seungcheol—" Her voice cracked. "right there—"
he doubled down, his tongue working her clit in tight, steady circles while his fingers fucked her slowly, pressing into that spot over and over. her hips bucked against his face. she was already trembling, already close.
he backed off.
just barely. pulled his fingers out. lifted his head, water streaming down his face, and looked up at her.
"not yet."
"you’re a monster."
"as i always say, you love it." He stood, pressing his body against hers, his cock sliding along her slick folds. "i want to feel you come around me."
he lifted her other leg. she wrapped both around his waist, her back against the tile, completely supported by him. he guided himself to her entrance and pushed in.
inch by inch.
her mouth fell open, her eyes fluttering. he filled her completely, paused at the hilt, letting her adjust to his girth. the stretch was perfect. the fullness was everything.
"this," he said, his voice strained, "is how i wanted to fuck you last night. so i could feel every part of you."
he pulled out almost all the way, then pushed back in with a smooth roll of his hips. the water sluiced over them, steam swirling, their skin slick and sliding. he kept the rhythm measured, controlled, exactly as his body craved.
"look at me."
she forced her eyes open. met his gaze.
"pretty girl.”
"ah-cheol-" she moaned.
"good girl." he kissed her forehead, her nose, her lips. "you’re taking me so well. squeezing me so tight."
the pace stayed slow. torturous. every stroke was a declaration, a promise. he filled her completely, paused at the hilt, let her feel the weight of him, then withdrew and repeated the motion. the wet sound of their bodies meeting echoed off the tiles, obscene and rhythmic.
"please," she begged. "please, cheol—i’m so close—"
"i know." he was breathing hard now, his control wavering. "but i want you to hold it for me."
she nodded, biting her lip, her face contorted with the effort of holding back. her nails dug into his shoulders. he kept fucking her. slow. deep.
his mouth found her neck. he sucked a fresh mark into her already branded skin, hard enough to ache, hard enough to bruise.
"mine."
"yours."
"tell me you're mine."
"i’m yours, cheol." her voice broke. "fuck—I'm always yours."
"that’s right." he kissed her, open-mouthed and hungry, swallowing her moans. "come for me, baby. come on my cock. now."
she shattered.
her orgasm tore through her, violent and total. her walls clamped around him, pulsing, milking, and her cry was swallowed by his mouth. he drove into her twice more, deep and hard, then followed her over the edge with a groan that vibrated against her lips.
he pulsed inside her, hot and thick, holding her tight against the tile until he was completely spent.
they stayed like that for a long moment. joined. panting. steam curling around them.
he pulled out slowly and set her down, her legs shaky beneath her. she leaned into him, her face pressed against his chest.
"i’m never going to walk again," she mumbled.
he laughed, the sound vibrating through his chest. "i’ll carry you everywhere."
Author: bratzkoo
Pairing: university student! joshua x university student! reader
Genre: angst, fluff
Rating: PG-15
Word count: 7.3k
Warnings/note: inspired by sabrina carpenter's skin and olivia rodrigo's driver's license. joshua hong is the loml. bit of a long read.
summary: you’re doing great with your boyfriend of 5 months but when his ex drops a podcast talking about their past relationship and indirectly mentions you, your relationship takes on challenges you don’t know if you can handle.
taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): -
requests are open, but you can just say hi! | masterlist
You never expected to fall in love in college, let alone with someone like Hong Joshua. As one of the most popular students at your university, you were used to attention, but Joshua was different. He saw beyond your carefully curated image, past the smiles and the social ease, right to the core of who you were.
Your relationship started slowly, tentatively. Coffee dates that turned into long walks around campus, stolen glances during lectures, and late-night study sessions that had more to do with learning each other than any subject material. You remembered the first time you really noticed him, in your shared Literature class. He was sitting two rows ahead, his dark hair slightly tousled, completely engrossed in the professor's lecture on romantic poetry.
As you watched him scribble notes furiously, his brow furrowed in concentration, you felt a strange flutter in your chest. It wasn't just that he was handsome – though he undeniably was – but there was something about the intensity of his focus, the way he seemed to lose himself in the words, that drew you in.
After class, you found yourself lingering, pretending to organize your bag as you watched him from the corner of your eye. To your surprise, he approached you, a shy smile playing on his lips.
"Hey," he said, his voice softer than you expected. "I'm Joshua. I've seen you around campus, but I don't think we've officially met."
You introduced yourself, trying to ignore the way your heart raced as he shook your hand. His touch was warm, his grip firm but gentle.
"I was wondering," he continued, a hint of nervousness creeping into his voice, "if you'd like to grab coffee sometime? I could use a study partner for the upcoming exam, and you always seem to have great insights in class."
You found yourself nodding before you even fully processed his words. "I'd love to," you replied, surprised by how steady your voice sounded despite the butterflies in your stomach.
That first coffee date turned into two, then three, then countless more. You discovered that Joshua was not just handsome and smart, but also kind, funny, and surprisingly vulnerable. He told you about his dreams of becoming a singer, how he'd spend hours practicing in the shower or humming melodies under his breath.
"My parents want me to have a 'practical' career," he confided one evening, as you sat together on a bench overlooking the campus lake. "But music... it's like breathing to me. I can't imagine my life without it."
You reached out, taking his hand in yours. "Then don't give it up," you said softly. "You have an amazing voice, Joshua. The world deserves to hear it."
He looked at you then, his eyes shining with something that made your breath catch in your throat. "You really think so?"
"I know so," you replied, and the smile he gave you in return was brighter than any star in the sky.
Before you knew it, five months had passed, and you were head over heels. Joshua had become not just your boyfriend, but your best friend, your confidant, your rock. He was the first person you wanted to share good news with, the one you turned to when you were feeling down.
One particularly memorable evening, you and Joshua strolled across campus, your fingers intertwined. The air was crisp with the promise of autumn, and the setting sun painted the sky in shades of orange and pink. You couldn't help but smile as you caught him humming softly under his breath – a habit you'd grown to adore over the past five months.
"What's that song?" you asked, nudging him playfully.
Joshua's cheeks flushed slightly, a bashful smile playing on his lips. "Oh, just something I've been working on. It's not ready yet."
You squeezed his hand encouragingly, your heart swelling with affection. "I'm sure it's beautiful. You know I love hearing you sing."
His eyes met yours, filled with warmth and something deeper – a vulnerability that both thrilled and scared you. "Maybe I'll play it for you someday," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
As you approached the campus coffee shop, a group of girls whispered and giggled, their eyes fixed on Joshua. You were used to this by now – being with one of the most popular guys on campus came with its share of attention. But Joshua seemed oblivious, his focus solely on you.
Inside the coffee shop, as you waited for your orders, you noticed Joshua's gaze drift to a couple in the corner. A flicker of emotion – was it sadness? – crossed his face before he quickly looked away.
"Joshua?" you probed gently, concern creeping into your voice. "Is everything okay?"
He plastered on a smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Of course. Just thinking about that assignment for Professor Kim's class."
You knew he was deflecting, but you didn't push. There was still so much about Joshua's past that remained a mystery to you. You'd learned early on that he was intensely private about certain aspects of his life, particularly his romantic history. Whenever you tried to broach the subject of past relationships, he'd change the topic or gently steer the conversation in a different direction.
You noticed that all the pictures on his social media only went back about a year, as if his life before that had been carefully erased. It was as though he was trying to start fresh, to reinvent himself. Part of you was curious, even a little worried about what he might be hiding. But another part of you trusted him implicitly, believing that if it was important, he'd tell you when he was ready.
"Don't worry about the past," he'd tell you whenever you hinted at wanting to know more, pulling you close and pressing a kiss to your forehead. "You're my present and my future."
And for a while, that was enough. The way Joshua looked at you, the way he held you, the way he seemed to anticipate your needs before you even voiced them – it all made you feel cherished, loved in a way you'd never experienced before. You told yourself that everyone had a past, and what mattered was the here and now.
But there were moments, fleeting and rare, when you'd catch a shadow pass over Joshua's face. A song on the radio would make him go quiet, or a certain scent would cause him to tense up momentarily. In those moments, you felt the weight of his unspoken history, and you couldn't help but wonder about the ghosts that still seemed to haunt him.
Despite these occasional moments of uncertainty, your relationship with Joshua continued to blossom. You fell into a comfortable rhythm, your lives intertwining in a way that felt both exciting and incredibly natural. Joshua became a fixture in your apartment, his textbooks mingling with yours on your desk, his hoodie draped over your chair.
Your friends teased you good-naturedly about how inseparable you'd become. "It's like you two are joined at the hip," your housemate Anna would say, rolling her eyes but smiling affectionately.
You couldn't deny it. Being with Joshua felt right in a way you couldn't quite explain. It was as if you'd found a piece of yourself you didn't even know was missing.
One night, as you lay tangled together on your bed, Joshua trailing lazy kisses along your collarbone, you felt an overwhelming surge of emotion.
"Joshua," you whispered, your voice thick with feeling.
He looked up at you, his eyes dark and intense in the dim light. "Yeah?"
"I... I love you," you said, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. You'd never said it before, had been too scared of the vulnerability it implied. But in that moment, with Joshua's arms around you and his heartbeat steady against your chest, you couldn't hold it back any longer.
For a moment, Joshua went very still, and you felt a flicker of panic. Had you said it too soon? But then his face broke into the most beautiful smile you'd ever seen, his eyes shining with unshed tears.
"I love you too," he said, his voice husky with emotion. "God, Y/N, I love you so much."
He kissed you then, pouring all his feelings into it, and you felt as though your heart might burst from happiness.
It was in moments like these that you forgot about the mysteries in Joshua's past, about the sadness that sometimes lingered in his eyes. All that mattered was the love you shared, the future you were building together.
But life, as you were about to learn, had a way of bringing the past crashing into the present when you least expected it.
-
It was an ordinary Friday when your world turned upside down. You were walking across campus, hand in hand with Joshua, discussing your plans for the weekend. The air was buzzing with the usual energy of students eager for the week to end, but something felt off. You noticed people staring more than usual, whispers following in your wake.
"Is it just me," you said to Joshua, trying to keep your voice light, "or are people acting weird today?"
Joshua frowned, his eyes scanning the faces around you. "Yeah, something's definitely up. But I have no idea what."
It wasn't until you got to class that you found out. Your best friend, Ela, pulled you aside before you could take your seat, her face a mask of concern.
"Have you heard the podcast?" she asked, her voice low and urgent.
You blinked, confused. "What podcast?"
Ela bit her lip, then pulled out her phone. "It's gone viral on campus. Everyone's talking about it. I... I think you need to hear this."
As she pressed play, a soft voice filled the air. "I thought he was my forever," the voice said, tinged with sadness. "He promised me the world, promised me eternity. But I guess forever has an expiration date."
Your heart sank as you listened, a cold dread settling in your stomach. The girl on the podcast never mentioned names, but the details were too specific to be coincidence. She talked about a boy who loved to sing, who had a smile that could melt hearts, who dreamed of becoming a performer.
She talked about Joshua. Your Joshua.
"And now he has a new girlfriend," the voice continued, a hint of bitterness creeping in. "She's everything I'm not. She’s popular, I saw her pictures and she’s so beautiful and she smiles pretty, and she has a lot of friends, and I bet she can parallel park. Everything I was always insecure about."
You felt like you couldn't breathe. This was Joshua's ex, laying bare all the pain and heartbreak for the world to hear. And in doing so, she'd inadvertently put a target on your back.
"Ela," you said, your voice barely above a whisper, "how many people have heard this?"
Your friend's expression was grim. "It's everywhere, Y/N. Twitter, Instagram, TikTok... people are reposting it like crazy."
You closed your eyes, trying to steady yourself. "Does... does Joshua know?"
"I don't think so," Ela replied. "At least, not yet. But Y/N... you need to talk to him. This is going to blow up, and fast."
You nodded, feeling numb. "I will. After class. I just... I need a moment to process this."
But as you sat through the lecture, you couldn't focus on a single word the professor said. Your mind was racing, replaying every moment with Joshua, every conversation, every tender look. Had it all been a lie? Was he still in love with his ex? And why hadn't he told you about her?
As soon as class ended, you rushed out, your heart pounding. You needed to find Joshua, to hear his side of the story. But as you stepped into the hallway, you were met with a sea of stares and whispers.
"That's her," you heard someone say. "The new girlfriend."
"I can't believe she'd do that to Yunha," another voice chimed in. "They were so perfect together."
You pushed through the crowd, fighting back tears. This couldn't be happening. It felt like a nightmare you couldn't wake up from.
You found Joshua outside the music building, his face pale and drawn. When he saw you, his eyes filled with a mixture of guilt and fear.
"Y/N," he said, reaching for you. "I can explain-"
But before he could say another word, you felt your world tilt on its axis. The stress, the shock, and the emotional turmoil of the day caught up with you all at once. Your vision blurred, your legs gave out, and the last thing you heard was Joshua calling your name as darkness enveloped you.
When you woke up, you were in the campus infirmary, the harsh fluorescent lights making you squint. Joshua was by your side, holding your hand, his face etched with worry.
"Hey," he said softly as your eyes fluttered open. "How are you feeling?"
You tried to sit up, wincing at the throbbing in your head. "What happened?"
"You fainted," Joshua explained, helping you into a sitting position. "The nurse said it was probably due to stress and low blood sugar. You've been out for about an hour."
As the fog in your mind cleared, the events of the day came rushing back. The podcast, the whispers, the revelations about Joshua's past. You pulled your hand away from his, suddenly feeling like you were touching a stranger.
"Joshua," you said, your voice hoarse, "we need to talk about the podcast."
He closed his eyes, pain etched across his features. "I know. Y/N, I'm so sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen. I should have told you about Yunha, about our history. I just... I thought if I could just start fresh, leave all that in the past, it wouldn't matter anymore."
You felt tears welling up in your eyes. "But it does matter, Joshua. It matters because now the whole campus thinks I'm some kind of homewrecker. It matters because you kept this huge part of your life from me. How am I supposed to trust you after this?"
Joshua reached for your hand again, and this time you let him take it. "I know I messed up," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "But Y/N, you have to believe me when I say that what I feel for you is real. More real than anything I've ever felt before."
You wanted to believe him. God knows, how you wanted to believe him. But the doubt had taken root, and you couldn't shake the feeling that everything you thought you knew about your relationship had been built on a foundation of lies.
"I need time," you said finally, pulling your hand away. "To think, to process all of this. Can you... can you give me that?"
The look of hurt on Joshua's face made your heart ache, but you knew you needed space to sort out your feelings. He nodded, standing up slowly.
"Of course," he said softly. "Take all the time you need. Just... please don't shut me out completely. When you're ready to talk, I'll be here."
As he left the infirmary, you felt a piece of your heart go with him. But you also felt a resolve hardening within you. You needed answers, and you were determined to get them – no matter how painful they might be.
The next few weeks were a nightmare. Everywhere you went, you could feel eyes on you, hear the whispers behind your back. People you thought were friends suddenly became cold and distant. Your Instagram, once filled with supportive comments and likes, became a battleground of hate and accusations.
"Home wrecker," one comment read. "How does it feel to steal someone else's happiness?"
Another was even more vicious: "You don't deserve him. Yunha and Joshua were soulmates. You're just a pretty distraction."
You tried to brush it off, to hold your head high, but each comment felt like a dagger to your heart. Even worse was the way some of your so-called friends began to distance themselves, afraid of being associated with the scandal.
"I'm sorry, Y/N," your classmate Hoshi said awkwardly one day after class. "It's just... people are talking, you know? And my girlfriend thinks maybe we shouldn't hang out so much anymore."
You nodded, trying to keep your expression neutral even as you felt another piece of your world crumbling. "It's fine, Hoshi. I understand."
But you didn't understand. Not really. How could people be so quick to judge, so eager to believe the worst about you without even knowing the full story?
You threw yourself into your studies, spending long hours in the library, trying to drown out the whispers and stares with the comforting rustle of pages and the scratch of your pen. But even in the quiet sanctuary of the stacks, you couldn't escape the weight of judgment that seemed to follow you everywhere.
One evening, as you were poring over your textbooks, you felt a presence beside you. Looking up, you saw Anna, your roommate, hovering uncertainly.
"Hey," she said softly, sliding into the chair across from you. "I've been worried about you. You've barely been in the room lately."
You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "Just been busy with studying."
Anna reached out, gently closing your book. "Y/N, talk to me. Please. I know things have been rough, but I'm still your friend. I want to help."
Something in her tone, the genuine concern in her eyes, made the walls you'd built up over the past weeks crumble. Before you knew it, you were sobbing quietly, your shoulders shaking as Anna moved to wrap her arms around you.
"I don't know what to do," you whispered between sobs. "Everything's such a mess. I love Joshua, I really do, but how can I trust him after this? And everyone on campus hates me for something I didn't even do."
Anna stroked your hair soothingly. "Not everyone hates you, Y/N. The people who matter know you're not the person they're making you out to be. And as for Joshua... have you talked to him since that day?"
You shook your head. "I've been avoiding him. I just... I don't know what to say."
"Maybe it's time you did," Anna suggested gently. "You can't run from this forever. And who knows? Maybe hearing his side of the story will help you make sense of things."
You knew she was right, but the thought of facing Joshua, of reopening the wounds that were just starting to scab over, made your stomach churn with anxiety.
"I'll think about it," you promised, wiping your eyes. "Thanks, Anna. For being here, for not judging me."
She squeezed your hand. "That's what friends are for. And Y/N? Remember, this will pass. It might not feel like it now, but it will. You're stronger than you think."
Her words stayed with you as you packed up your books and made your way back to your apartment. The campus was quiet, most students already settled in for the night. As you walked, you found yourself thinking about Joshua, wondering what he was doing, if he was struggling as much as you were.
Almost without realizing it, your feet had carried you to his dorm building. You stood there for a long moment, debating whether to go in or turn back. Finally, taking a deep breath, you made your decision.
The walk to Joshua's room felt both endless and far too short. Before you were ready, you found yourself standing in front of his door, your heart pounding. You raised your hand to knock, then hesitated. What if he wasn't alone? What if he didn't want to see you?
But before you could talk yourself out of it, the door swung open. Joshua stood there, looking as surprised to see you as you were to suddenly be face-to-face with him. He looked tired, dark circles under his eyes, his hair messy as if he'd been running his hands through it repeatedly.
"Y/N," he breathed, his eyes wide. "I... what are you doing here?"
You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice. "I think... I think it's time we talked."
Joshua nodded, stepping back to let you in. His room was a mess, clothes strewn about, empty coffee cups littering his desk. It was so unlike the usually tidy Joshua that it made your heart ache.
"Sorry about the mess," he said, hurriedly clearing some books off his bed so you could sit. "I haven't been... I mean, things have been..."
"Rough?" you supplied, and he nodded, a ghost of a smile touching his lips.
"Yeah. Rough."
You sat on the edge of his bed, and he took the chair at his desk, leaving a careful distance between you. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence heavy with all the things left unsaid.
Finally, you took a deep breath. "Joshua, I need to know the truth. All of it. About Yunha, about your relationship, about why you never told me."
Joshua ran a hand through his hair, his expression pained. "I know I owe you an explanation. I just... I don't know where to start."
"The beginning," you said softly. "Start at the beginning."
And so he did. He told you about meeting Yunha in high school, how they'd bonded over their shared love of music. How their relationship had started as a friendship and slowly blossomed into something more.
"She was my first love," Joshua admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I thought... I really thought we'd be together forever. We had all these plans, you know? We were going to go to the same college, pursue our dreams together."
"What changed?" you asked, trying to ignore the twinge of jealousy you felt at the obvious affection in his voice when he spoke of Yunha.
Joshua's expression darkened. "Life changed. I got accepted here on a music scholarship, but Yunha... she didn't get in. We tried long-distance for a while, but it was hard. We were both changing, growing in different directions. And then..."
He trailed off, looking away. You waited, your heart pounding.
"And then?" you prompted gently.
Joshua took a shaky breath. "And then I met you. And everything changed again. I didn't mean for it to happen, Y/N. I wasn't looking to fall in love. But being with you... it felt right in a way nothing ever had before. It scared me how quickly and deeply I fell for you."
You felt tears pricking at your eyes. "So what happened with Yunha?"
"I broke up with her," Joshua said, his voice heavy with regret. "Over the phone. God, I was such a coward. I told her I couldn't do the long-distance thing anymore, that we were growing apart. But the truth is, I was already falling for you, even if I hadn't admitted it to myself yet."
The pieces were starting to fall into place, but there was still one thing you didn't understand. "Why didn't you tell me about her, Joshua? Why keep it a secret?"
He looked at you then, his eyes filled with a mixture of shame and pleading. "Because I was afraid. Afraid that if you knew about Yunha, about how badly I'd hurt her, you wouldn't want to be with me. I thought if I could just start fresh, be the person I wanted to be with you, maybe I could leave all that guilt and pain behind."
You sat there, processing everything he'd said. Part of you understood his fear, his desire to start anew. But another part of you was hurt that he hadn't trusted you enough to be honest from the beginning.
"Joshua," you said finally, "I appreciate you telling me all this. But... it doesn't change the fact that you lied to me. By omission, maybe, but still. How can I trust you after this?"
He leaned forward, his eyes intense. "I know I messed up, Y/N. I know I should have been honest from the start. But please believe me when I say that everything between us has been real. My feelings for you, they're more real than anything I've ever felt."
You wanted to believe him. God, how you wanted to. But the doubt that had taken root was hard to shake.
"I need time," you said, standing up. "To think, to process all of this. Can you... can you give me that?"
Joshua nodded, his expression a mixture of hope and resignation. "Of course. Take all the time you need. Just... please don't give up on us, Y/N. I love you. I'll do whatever it takes to make this right."
As you left his room, you felt a strange mixture of emotions. Relief at finally knowing the truth, pain at the realization of how much hurt your relationship had caused, and a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, you and Joshua could find a way through this.
But even as you tried to sort through your feelings, you knew that the hardest part was yet to come. The campus was still buzzing with gossip, and you were still at the center of it all. How could you and Joshua ever move forward when the whole world seemed determined to tear you apart?
The next day, as you walked to class, you could feel the weight of stares on you. But something had changed. Maybe it was the conversation with Joshua, or maybe it was just that you'd reached your breaking point, but suddenly, you were tired of being the victim.
You straightened your shoulders, held your head high, and met the stares head-on. You were not the villain in this story, and you were done letting others make you feel like one.
In your Literature class, you found yourself sitting next to a girl named Soo-yun, someone you'd never really talked to before. To your surprise, she turned to you with a small smile.
"Hey," she said softly. "I just wanted to say... I think it's really brave, how you're handling all of this. I can't imagine how hard it must be."
Her words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn't know how to respond. "I... thank you," you finally managed. "It means a lot to hear that."
Soo-yun nodded. "I know we don't really know each other, but if you ever need someone to talk to, or just to sit with at lunch so you're not alone, I'm here."
You felt a lump form in your throat, touched by this unexpected kindness. "I might take you up on that," you said, offering a genuine smile for what felt like the first time in weeks.
As the days passed, you found small pockets of support like this. Not everyone believed the rumors, and those who took the time to get to know you often found that the reality was far different from the gossip.
But even as things began to improve slightly on campus, you still struggled with your feelings for Joshua. You missed him desperately, but the hurt and betrayal still stung. You found yourself replaying your conversations, analyzing every interaction, trying to separate the truth from the lies.
One afternoon, as you sat in the campus coffee shop, lost in thought, a familiar voice broke through your reverie.
"Is this seat taken?"
You looked up to see Joshua standing there, two cups of coffee in hand, his expression a mixture of hope and uncertainty.
For a moment, you hesitated. But then you gestured to the empty chair across from you. "It's all yours."
Joshua sat down, sliding one of the coffees towards you. "I got your usual," he said softly. "I hope that's okay."
You nodded, wrapping your hands around the warm cup. "Thanks."
For a while, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching between you like a chasm. Finally, Joshua took a deep breath.
"Y/N, I've been doing a lot of thinking," he began. "About us, about everything that's happened. And I realized something. I've been so focused on trying to escape my past, on being the person I thought you wanted me to be, that I lost sight of who I really am."
You looked at him, surprised by the intensity in his voice. "What do you mean?"
Joshua ran a hand through his hair, a gesture you'd come to recognize as a sign of his nervousness. "I mean that I've been trying so hard to be perfect for you that I forgot that it was my imperfections, my past, all of it, that made me who I am. And who I am is someone who loves you, completely and utterly. Not because you're perfect, but because you're you."
You felt your heart skip a beat at his words, but you forced yourself to stay calm. "Joshua, I appreciate what you're saying, but-"
He held up a hand, cutting you off gently. "Please, let me finish. I know I messed up. I know I hurt you, and Yunha, and probably a lot of other people along the way. But I'm done running from my mistakes. I want to own them, learn from them, and hopefully, if you'll let me, make things right."
You studied his face, searching for any sign of insincerity. But all you saw was raw, honest emotion.
"What are you saying, Joshua?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
He reached across the table, his hand hovering near yours, not quite touching. "I'm saying that I love you, Y/N. All of you. And I want you to know all of me. The good, the bad, the parts I'm proud of and the parts I'm not. If you'll give me another chance, I promise to be completely honest with you, always."
You felt tears pricking at your eyes, overwhelmed by the sincerity in his voice. Slowly, you reached out, closing the distance between your hands.
"I can't promise it'll be easy," you said softly. "There's a lot of trust to rebuild."
Joshua nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "I know. And I'm willing to do whatever it takes. For as long as it takes."
As you sat there, your hands intertwined, you felt a glimmer of hope. The road ahead wouldn't be easy, but maybe, just maybe, you and Joshua could find your way back to each other.
In the weeks that followed, you and Joshua took small, tentative steps towards rebuilding your relationship. You started with coffee dates, just like in the beginning, relearning each other and having the honest conversations you should have had from the start.
Joshua opened up about his past, sharing stories about his relationship with Yunha, his struggles with self-doubt, and his fears about the future. You, in turn, shared your own insecurities and the pain you'd experienced during the podcast fallout.
It wasn't always easy. There were moments of tension, of old hurts resurfacing. But there were also moments of laughter, of rediscovering the connection that had drawn you together in the first place.
Slowly but surely, the storm began to pass. People found new gossip to occupy themselves with, and the hateful comments began to taper off. You never heard directly from Yunha, but the original podcast was taken down, and you liked to think that maybe, just maybe, she had found her own path to healing.
A year after the podcast incident, you and Joshua sat on the roof of your dorm, watching the sunset. Your hands were intertwined, your head resting on his shoulder. The campus sprawled out below you, peaceful in the fading light.
"Do you ever regret it?" you asked softly, breaking the comfortable silence. "Getting involved with me, going through all of that?"
Joshua was quiet for a moment, then turned to look at you, his eyes filled with a love so deep it took your breath away.
"Never," he said firmly, squeezing your hand. "What we went through... it was hard, yeah. But it made us stronger. It showed me that what we have is real, that it can withstand anything."
You nodded, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his words. "I feel the same way," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "We've come so far, haven't we?"
Joshua smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "We have. And we still have so far to go. But Y/N, I want you to know that I'm in this for the long haul. Whatever comes our way, we'll face it together."
You snuggled closer to him, feeling safe and loved in a way you'd never experienced before. "I like the sound of that," you murmured. "Together."
As you sat there, watching the last rays of sunlight paint the sky in vibrant hues, you reflected on the journey that had brought you to this moment. The pain, the growth, the love that had weathered the storm and come out stronger on the other side.
You might not have a ring on your finger, might not have all the answers about what the future held. But you had something far more valuable – a love that had been tested by fire and emerged stronger for it. A love built on honesty, on acceptance of each other's flaws and imperfections.
The future stretched out before you, full of possibilities and challenges. But with Joshua by your side, you felt ready to take on whatever life might throw your way, one day at a time.
As the first stars began to twinkle in the darkening sky, Joshua began to hum softly, a melody you hadn't heard before. You closed your eyes, letting the gentle tune wash over you.
"Is that a new song?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, not wanting to break the spell of the moment.
Joshua nodded, a shy smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, I've been working on it for a while now. It's... well, it's about us. About everything we've been through."
Your heart swelled with emotion. "Can I hear it? The whole thing, I mean."
He hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Okay, but remember it's still a work in progress."
Clearing his throat, Joshua began to sing softly, his voice carrying on the gentle evening breeze.
As the last note faded away, you found yourself wiping tears from your eyes. The raw emotion in Joshua's voice, the honesty of the lyrics – it was overwhelming in the best possible way.
"Joshua," you breathed, "that was beautiful. I can't believe you wrote that for us."
He ducked his head, a blush creeping across his cheeks. "I wanted to capture everything we've been through, everything we mean to each other. I know it's not perfect-"
You cut him off with a kiss, pouring all your love and gratitude into it. When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless.
"It's perfect because it's us," you said softly. "Thank you for sharing it with me."
Joshua pulled you closer, and you settled back against him, both of you content to watch as the sky darkened and more stars appeared.
"You know," Joshua said after a while, his voice thoughtful, "a year ago, I never would have had the courage to share an unfinished song like that. I was so caught up in trying to be perfect, in hiding the messy parts of myself."
You nodded, understanding. "And now?"
He smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Now I know that it's okay to be a work in progress. That the people who truly love you will accept all of you, rough edges and all."
His words resonated deeply with you. Over the past year, you'd both learned so much about vulnerability, about the strength that comes from being truly seen and accepted.
"Speaking of works in progress," you said, sitting up to look at him, "have you given any more thought to what you want to do after graduation? It's coming up faster than we think."
Joshua's expression turned serious. "I have, actually. I've been thinking about it a lot lately."
You waited, giving him space to gather his thoughts.
"I want to pursue music," he said finally, his voice firm with resolve. "Not just as a hobby, but as a career. I know it won't be easy, and my parents probably won't be thrilled, but... it's what I love. It's who I am."
Pride swelled in your chest. You knew how much courage it took for Joshua to choose this path, to prioritize his passion over the safer, more conventional career his parents had always envisioned for him.
"I'm so proud of you," you said, squeezing his hand. "And I'll be right there supporting you every step of the way."
Joshua's eyes shone with gratitude. "What about you? Have you decided on grad school?"
You nodded, excitement bubbling up inside you. "I got the acceptance letter yesterday. I was waiting for the right moment to tell you."
"Y/N, that's amazing!" Joshua exclaimed, pulling you into a tight hug. "I knew you could do it. You're going to be an incredible psychologist."
As you hugged him back, you felt a sense of rightness settle over you. This was what love was supposed to be – supporting each other's dreams, celebrating each other's successes.
"You know," you said as you pulled back, "we should probably start thinking about where we're going to live after graduation. With you pursuing music and me starting grad school, we might need to look into getting an apartment together."
The words were out before you fully realized the weight of what you were suggesting. Living together was a big step, one you hadn't really discussed before.
Joshua's eyes widened slightly, but then a slow smile spread across his face. "Are you asking me to move in with you, Y/N?"
You felt a blush creeping up your neck, but you held his gaze. "I guess I am. What do you think?"
He pretended to consider it for a moment, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm, let me think. Waking up next to you every morning, making breakfast together, having a space that's truly ours... Yeah, I think I could get on board with that."
You laughed, swatting his arm playfully. "Is that a yes, then?"
Joshua's expression softened, becoming serious again. "It's absolutely a yes. I love you, Y/N, and nothing would make me happier than building a life with you."
As you sealed the decision with a kiss, you felt a sense of excitement for the future bubbling up inside you. You knew there would be challenges ahead – the stress of grad school, the uncertainty of Joshua's music career, the everyday trials of living together for the first time. But you also knew that together, you could handle anything life threw your way.
The next few months were a whirlwind of activity. Between finishing up your final semester, apartment hunting, and preparing for the next chapter of your lives, you and Joshua barely had a moment to breathe. But through it all, your relationship continued to grow stronger.
You found a small apartment not far from campus, cozy and full of character. The day you moved in, surrounded by boxes and the chaos of merging two lives into one space, you couldn't stop smiling. This was the beginning of something new, something uniquely yours and Joshua's.
As you unpacked, you came across a familiar box – the one where you'd stored all the mementos from your relationship. Concert tickets, dried flowers, handwritten notes. But there was something new tucked inside, something you didn't recognize.
"Joshua?" you called out, holding up a small, beautifully bound notebook. "What's this?"
He came into the room, a soft smile playing on his lips when he saw what you were holding. "Ah, I was wondering when you'd find that. It's for you – well, for us, really."
You opened the notebook, your breath catching as you realized what it was. On the first page, in Joshua's neat handwriting, were the words: "Our Story: Past, Present, and Future."
"I thought we could use it to write down our memories, our dreams for the future," Joshua explained, coming to sit beside you. "And maybe, someday, we can look back on it and see how far we've come."
Tears pricked at your eyes as you flipped through the pages. Some were already filled – recollections of your first date, the lyrics to the song Joshua had written for you, little sketches of moments you'd shared. But most of the pages were blank, waiting to be filled with the story of your life together.
"Joshua, this is..." you trailed off, overwhelmed by the thoughtfulness of the gift.
He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. "I know we've been through a lot, and there were times when I was afraid to confront the past. But now, I want to embrace all of it – the good and the bad. Because it all led us here, to this moment."
You leaned into him, feeling a profound sense of peace. "I love you," you said simply, because in that moment, those three words encompassed everything you felt.
"I love you too," Joshua replied, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Now, what do you say we write our first entry as official roommates?"
Laughing, you grabbed a pen and snuggled closer to Joshua. As you began to write, describing the chaos and joy of move-in day, you felt a sense of excitement for all the blank pages ahead – pages waiting to be filled with your shared story.
The coming years would bring their own challenges and triumphs. There would be late nights of studying for you and long hours in the recording studio for Joshua. There would be arguments over dirty dishes and whose turn it was to do laundry. There would be moments of doubt, of wondering if you were on the right path.
But there would also be quiet mornings spent cuddling in bed, lazy Sundays exploring your new neighborhood, and the thrill of celebrating each other's achievements. There would be the day Joshua landed his first real gig, and the night you aced your first major presentation in grad school. There would be family dinners, game nights with friends, and impromptu dance parties in your tiny living room.
Through it all, that notebook would be there, slowly filling with the story of your life together. A tangible reminder of the love you'd built, the challenges you'd overcome, and the future you were creating together.
As you closed the notebook that first night in your new apartment, you looked at Joshua and saw your whole world reflected in his eyes. You didn't know exactly what the future held, but you knew one thing for certain – whatever came your way, you'd face it together, writing your story one day at a time.
After all, your love wasn't just skin deep. It was woven into the very fabric of who you were, a bond that had been tested and strengthened by every challenge you'd faced. It was the skin you were in, the air you breathed, the truth you believed in.
And as you fell asleep that night, wrapped in each other's arms in your new home, you knew that this was just the beginning of your forever. A forever that you would define together, day by day, moment by moment, love by love.
after going on a blind date with false pretenses with the ceo of your company, things take a turn when he asks you to marry him to keep himself from ending up in an arranged marriage.
⟢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞(𝐬): romance, smut, fake dating, angst
⟢ 𝐚𝐮(𝐬): business proposal, nonidol
⟢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 13.7k
⟢ 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cussing, lying, drinking, lots of office gossip, Cheol has daddy issues, people think mc is a gold digger, insecurities and body issues.
⟢ 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex, they both are needy, lots of making out, big dick Seungcheol, oral (fem rec), size kink, creampie, cum eating, multiple orgasms, fingering, hair pulling body worship, multiple positions, multiple orgasms, Seungcheol talks mc through it. nicknames: darling, baby, good girl (hers) baby, cheol (his)
⟢ 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 18+ minors do not interact
⟢ 𝐚𝐧: This fic is for the SVTFLIX collab hosted by @100vern . It’s loosely based on the k-drama business proposal. Thank you @aeristudios for listening to me ramble about this story and thank you @jakedustry for beta reading.
🎧: snooze | sza | lightening - charli xcx | into you - ariana grande | bmf - sza
Choi Seungcheol prodigal son in the heir to the Choi Corporation. Being the only child of an extremely wealthy and successful businessman has left Seungcheol with immense pressure. His whole life has been laid out for him. The moment he graduated high school, he was sent to a prestige college with the intention of immediately stepping into the family business. The day after graduation, he started working for his family’s company and never looked back.
One thing about being the heir to the company is that his parents are obsessed with the idea of him settling down and giving them at least one grandchild. Seungcheol is so wrapped up in work, he can't even imagine dating. Let alone getting married and staring a family.
These days his weeks consist of going on dates with socialites and heiress that his mother believes would make a great wife.
Tonight is no different. He finds himself in an expensive restaurant with a pretty woman sitting across from him. Except this time, the woman across from him isn't someone who comes from a rich family, it's you. You don't come from money, nor do you have much to be honest. You work for Seungcheol's company as Jeonghan's assistant. The funny things is Seungcheol knows your name, and definitely knows you're not Angel, the girl he's supposed to be on a date with.
THE PRINCE AND THE LIAR
You've been friends with Angel since you were teenagers. Growing up, your family made enough to be considered middle class. As a teen you were so smart you were able to get a full ride scholarship to a fancy private school. While in school, you became best friends with Angel, the heirest to a luxary cosmetics company. Angel has always been an incredible friend to you. She's always been someone who pushes you to get out of your comfort zone and to try new things.
You were surprised when you were hanging out in her fancy high rise apartment and she mentioned going on a date with the CEO of Choi Corporation. You weren't sure why her mother and his mother were trying to set her up with your boss.
"You're going on a date with my boss?" You ask, sitting on the plush chair that sits in the middle of her large closet.
"I don't want to go on a date with your hot boss. I was planning to go out with Soonyoung tonight."
"Your mom still doesn't know about Soonyoung?" Even if Angel doesn't want to admit it, her and Soonyoung have something going on that's more then just sex. Soonyoung works at a dance studio, and doesn't live up to Angel's mother's high expectations.
"Why don't you cancel on Seungcheol?"
"My mother would kill me if I did."
"I see."
Angel holds us a beautiful pink silk dress. She keeps glancing at the dress, and back at you. "This would look good on you."
"Yeah it's also not in my tax bracket." You've been shopping with Angel enough to know you couldn't afford anything in this closet.
"I have an idea!" She shouts.
"What?"
Her eyes go wide, and she gives you the biggest smile. "You're going to go on the date with Seungcheol." That's not what you thought she was going to say.
"What?"
"He's expecting you."
"He's never met me and doesn't know how I look. Just pretend to be me."
"I work for him."
"Like you said before. He doesn't know you exist. You work on a different floor for Jeonghan."
"Angel, this isn't a good idea."
"Come on, it's one blind date. You don't have to go on another one. Just go out with him once and pretend to be me."
"Angel—"
"Babe, just put the pretty pink dress on and go."
-
The moment you sat down, Seungcheol recognized you. He knew immediately you weren't Angel. He's well aware you're Jeonghan's pretty assistant. Instead of telling you he knows who you are, he decides to let this play out. It's not like he actually wanted to go on a date with Angel.
From the beginning he can tell that you're shy. He makes small talk with you, and actively goes out of his way to avoid talking about anything related to the real Angel.
He does want to tease you a little and see if you will own up to the lie. "Angel is a pretty name." He says before taking a sip of his wine.
"Thank you."
"How did your parents pick that name?"
"Grandmother named me." That isn't a lie. Angel was actually named by her grandmother.
The dinner is nice, an even though you're pretending to be someone else, Seungcheol can't help but find you interesting. He wishes he could ask you out again instead of the woman you're pretending to be.
The night ends with Seungcheol walking you to the car Angel ordered for you. He takes your hand and places a gentle kiss on top.
"It was nice getting to meet you." He says.
"This was nice. I feel like I haven't gone out on a date this night in a really long time." You haven't gone on a date in years, and even though this is under false pretenses, this was nice.
"Maybe we could do this again."
He fishes his phone out of the pocket of his dress pants. "Could I have your number please?"
Taking his phone, you hesitantly put in your contact info. You hate that you have to write your name as Angel, but you have no choice.
The whole car ride back to Angel's place you can't help but feel guilty that you enjoyed your night out with him. You feel bad you had to lie to him. Seungcheol seems like a great guy, and doesn’t deserve that.
AN UNEXPECTED CONTRACT
Since your blind date that took place three months ago, you've actively gone out of your way to avoid Seungcheol at work. That's been a little difficult occasionally due to the fact that your boss Jeonghan is best friends with the CEO of the company. Whenever you knew Seungcheol was on the floor looking for Jeonghan, you've made yourself scarce.
You don't know that the CEO is a smart man and is well aware you're avoiding him. He's wanted to text you too many times to count, but he can tell by the way you're avoiding him that you won't respond.
Seungcheol day started with his father meeting him in his office. His father is sitting in his chair at his desk.
"Good morning father." Seungcheol says before sitting his bag down on his desk.
"Son, I have important things to discuss with you."
Seungcheol lets out a heavy sigh before sitting down across from him. He just wants this conversation over with quickly.
"Your mother and I have been discussing things and it's clear you have no intention of settling down. We've decided to set you up in an arranged marriage." The room suddenly feels suffocatingly small. The word 'arranged marriage' keeps playing in mind on repeat.
"What?"
"Your mother has a perfect woman to be your wife. Lena comes from the Park family that owns the Park Finacal Banks." Seungcheol knows exactly who he is talking about. The idea of being thrown into an arranged marriage with a stuck up narcissistic heiress makes him want to throw up.
All of Seungcheol's logical thoughts are slipping out of his brain at a rapid pace. "I'm seeing someone!" He shouts.
"You are?"
"Yes. We were keeping things private."
"Who is she?"
"She works for our company. She's Jeonghan assistant."
"She's poor?" His father sounds extremely confused.
"What she makes doesn't matter to me. The only thing that matters is the fact we're in love."
His father leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "How long have you been seeing her?"
"Three months."
"You either marry her, or the Park's daughter."
"It's too soon for us to get married."
"If she rejects your proposal, you'll marry Lena." His father stands up.
Seungcheol feels stuck in his place. His father walks out of his office as Seungcheol tries to wrap his brain around what just happened.
The door slams shut and Seungcheol instantly snaps out of it. He stands up quickly and rushes out of his office. His assistant Seungkwan stands up.
"Seungcheol, is everything okay?"
"I got to go. Move my meeting to tomorrow. Tell them I'm dealing with an emergency."
Seungcheol walks to the elevator in a rush. The doors open and quickly walks in. His office is on the seventeenth floor. He presses the sixteenth floor the one you and Jeonghan work on. He needs to get to you before you can hide from him. The doors open and he rushes to your desk, outside of Jeonghan office.
Your eyes go wide at the sight of him rushing to you. "I need to talk to you, please don't run and hide."
"Okay." You say softly.
He barges into Jeonghan's office. Jeonghan looks up from his computer very confused. "I'm taking your assistant for the day. Tell Joshua to find someone to fill in for her."
"What the fuck is happening?" Jeonghan is extremely confused.
"I'm going to propose to your assistant and hope that she says yes."
"That doesn't explain anything, Cheol. I've never seen you speak to her."
Seungcheol let's out a heavy sigh. "Come to my house after eight and I'll explain everything. Just ask Joshua to get you a second assistant."
Seungcheol walks out of Jeonghan office and sees you still sitting at your desk, looking extremely nervous.
"You're not fired or anything, so don't worry about that. Just grab your purse and anything you bring with you everyday. We're not coming back to office today."
Silently you stand up and grab your purse. "Um, sir, I can't really afford to miss work."
"You'll be paid for today, don't worry."
With your purse in hand you follow Seungcheol to the elevator. Silently, you stand there waiting for the doors to open. The elevator dings and you both step inside.
Seungcheol his the underground level for the parking garage. You stand there not sure what you should say to him.
"I'm aware you're not Angel, just so you know."
Your heart instantly drops. "I'm sorry."
"It's fine. I'm not mad about it."
"Angel is seeing someone else her parents don't know about. Did you know all along I wasn't Angel?"
"Yeah, I have a good memory, and recognized you immediately."
The elevator dings and the doors open. You both step out into the parking garage.
"Did you drive here?" He asks.
"No, I took the train. I don't own a car."
"Okay, follow me to my car." He starts walking toward his CEO parking spot.
"Sir, where are we going?"
"To lunch and to discuss a contract."
You follow him to his expense all black Maserati. He stands on the passenger side and opens the door. Sliding into a sport car that looks too expensive to touch, you're extremely confused by everything that's happening.
Seungcheol gets into the drivers seat silently as he starts the car. He turns on the radio to help cut the awkward silence. The drive to the restaurant isn't too long. He pulls up to an expensive looking hotel. He hands the keys to the valet before he walks around and quickly opens your door.
"Come on." He says.
You follow behind him with your heels clacking against the expensive marble flooring.
Workers bow their heads at Seungcheol as he heads towards the elevator. He presses the button and the doors slide open. Silently, you stand next to him. You have zero clue why he dragged you out of work and brought you here.
He presses the button to the seventeenth floor. He checks his watch and glances over at you. The silence between you is deafening.
The doors slide open and he hold his hand out, guesturing for you to go first.
He walks up an expensive looking restaurant. The host immediately lights up. "Mr. Choi." The host bows his head.
"Two please."
Immediately you're led off through the expensive restaurant. You've seen lunches here booked on Jeonghan schedule. You're led over to a plush booth that overlooks the city.
The waitress immediately comes over and places two glasses of wine in front of you. You can't even pick up the menu, you just stare at Seungcheol.
"I'm aware your name isn't Angel."
"I'm sorry."
"It's fine. I recognized you the moment you sat down."
He doesn't say anything else. He just opens the menu. "Do you know what you would like to eat?"
"I'm not hungry." You appetite disappeared as you were pulled away from work.
"Please, order something." He folds the menu placing it down in front of him.
The waitress comes back for the order and Seungcheol orders himself the salmon. The waitress turns to you, and you just blankly stare at the man across from you.
"My date will take the lemon chicken." He says, handing over the menu.
The silence between you is incredibly loud. Seungcheol's eyes are fixated on you. Grabbing the glass of wine he takes a big gulp. He doesn't even bother slowly sipping on it.
"Mr. Choi, what is this about?" You finally break the silence.
"You didn't call me Mr. Choi on our date. Please call me Seungcheol or Cheol." He raises his brow before taking another drink of wine.
"That date was a mistake on my part." If you could go back in time you would never let Angel convince you to go out.
His brows furrow together. "A mistake?"
"Yes, a mistake. I lied to you, and that's not fair to you."
"I don't care that you lied to me."
It's your turn to now furrow your brows. "You don't?"
"No I don't care."
"Oh." You thought for sure he was mad about your lies.
"I'm here because I have a business proposal for you." He takes a deep breath. "My father informed me today, that he plans on setting me up into an arranged marriage."
"What does that have to do with me?"
"Well you see, I told him I can't marry someone else, because I'm seeing someone and I'm very serious about them." You have no clue who he could possibly be talking about.
"Yeah?" You ask.
"I told him I'm dating you, Jeonghan's assistant." His words if you like an ice cold bucket of water. Your stomach drops and you're rendered speechless. "I know it's crazy. See, here's the thing, my father says I either propose to you, and marry you or I'm marrying Lena from the Park Bank family." You know exactly who he's talking about, Angel has mentioned her on multiple occasions. According to your best friend Lena is a narcissistic, social climber.
You open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out. Seungcheol leans back in his chair, and lets out a sigh.
"What are you asking of me?" You finally find the right words to say.
"I'm asking you to be my fiancée. We don't have to get married right away or anything. But I need you to play the role of my fiancée until my parents push hard enough for us to get married. Maybe we can make it a long engagement and I'll figure out an exit plan." He's absolutely insane. Your eyes are wide, and all you can do is blink at him. You can't process the fact, that he basically just proposed to you.
Reaching out, you grab your glass of wine, and without another thought, start chugging the rich liquid.
"I know this is crazy."
You set the empty glass on the table. "Am I being punished for lying to you?"
"No, not at all. I just thought this could be beneficial to both of us." He shakes his head.
"Beneficial?"
"Yes, you'll move into my penthouse, and I'll take care of you."
"To sleep with you? I know I lied, but I'm not sleeping with you and playing house with you."
He puts his hands up. "Woo, I'm not asking you to have sex with me. I'll set up the guest room just for you. You'll have your own space, and we can be roommates basically."
"What about my job?" You're pretty sure being engaged to the ceo is against hr policies.
"I'm technically your boss, but Jeonghan is in charge of you. You can continue working for him or I'll get you another position. Or you can be stay at home fiancée. I want to fully support you. If you're going to help me with this, it's the least I can do." Is he offering to be your sugar daddy?
"As a sugar daddy?" You blurt out.
"No, as your fiancé, I would be your providor."
The waitress comes over intrupting this absolutely insane conversation. She pours more wine into each of your glasses. You both go quiet for a moment.
"If I agree to this, what are the rules?" You've struggled to get by off and on through our your life. You realize that this business proposal could be a blessing, you can live comfortably and not worry about money.
"I haven't thought that far ahead. I think the one thing that needs to be clear is, we can't see other people. And when we're in public, we have to act like we're a couple. The only person who can know we're not together is Jeonghan."
"I need to have someone I can talk to about this. I need to tell Angel. She won't tell anyone. She has her own secrets she keeps hid away, and won't share ours." Seungcheol wants to laugh at the fact that of all people you bring up the girl that started this whole mess for you.
"Okay. I'll get you a proper engagement ring today. I want to have you moved in by the end of the week."
The waitress walks over and sets your food down in front of you.
"By the way, you're going to have to be comfortable sharing kisses and holding my hand in public." The idea of sharing public affection with Seungcheol doesn't sound terrible.
He reaches out, holding his hand over the table. "Darling, do we have a deal?" Reaching out your grab his hand and shake it.
"I accept your business proposal."
THE HOTTEST NEW COUPLE
Everything has felt like a whirlwind. Seungcheol was true to his word, he got you a beautiful engagement ring, and three days after your agreement, you had moved out of your studio apartment into his huge penthouse.
With the help of Seungkwan, he made sure your bedroom was perfect. The guestroom that is now your room is absolutely beautiful, and it even has its own ensuite bathroom with a beautiful claw foot tub, and a shower that can comfortably have four people in it. Seungcheol stocked it, with all the products you use. He wasn't lying when he said he would take care of you. He brought over all your clothes, and even bought you a ton of new stuff to wear.
You get to work two days before it's all over the news that you and Seungcheol are engaged. As soon as everyone knows, things instantly change.
Walking into work with Seungcheol, you can feel everyone's eyes trained on you. The two front desk girls who are the biggest gossips intentally watch. Seungcheol shoots them both a smile before lacing his fingers with yours.
The two girls immediately leans in and clearly start whispering to each other.
Looking down while you walk, you try your hardest to ignore all the staring.
The doors to the elevator slide open, and Seungcheol leads you inside. He doesn't release your hand as he presses the button to the floor you work on.
There is a long beat of silence. "The people are going to talk about our relationship, but I just need you to ignore it."
"Okay." You aren't exactly sure how you can just ignore people whispering about you.
"It should calm down shortly."
The elevator stops on your floor and Seungcheol instantly can tell you're stressed. He releases your hand. "Hey, everything will be okay."
"Okay." You don't know if your saying that for him, or yourself.
The doors open and you step out. Seungcheol stays back and gives you a smile before the doors close.
Walking through the office, you can feel too many eyes on you. You head straight for Jeonghan’s office. You give his closed door a knock before stepping inside. You've never been happier that Jeonghan gets to work early.
Jeonghan is sitting at his desk leaning back sipping a coffee. "You know Joshua got me a second assistant, you don't have to rush in here bright and early now."
"I'm kinda freaking out and need a moment away from all of the gossips that work for this company." Jeonghan may be your boss, but you have grown to consider him your friend.
"Oh, I see news of your engagement hit the media."
You sit down in the chair in front of his desk. "I'm not used to this. Seungcheol is used to this, the media has always loved him. Before all of this no one knew who I was."
"The media circus will calm down soon. You guys will be the hot gossip for maybe a week."
You hate being the center of attention and this is making you feel uncomfortable. "I don't like that I know that everyone in the this office is talking about me."
"Don't let them bother you." Jeonghan sits his iced latte on the table.
"It's hard not to."
"Mina is working at her desk outside. Why don't your grab your laptop and work in my office for now?" Mina is Jeonghan second assistant Seungcheol requested he got.
"Don't you need privacy?"
"No."
"What about meetings?"
"There is a conference room on this floor and the big one on floor ten." Jeonghan has clearly thought about this.
"Okay."
Things from this day shifted. Everyone officially knows about your engagement. Jeonghan has gone out of his way to protect you from people talking about. He may be your boss, but through this he's become one of your closest friends.
Living in Seungcheol's penthouse feels strange. His large penthouse doesn't feel like home. You just feel like a guest, living here for now.
It's been a long day at work, since Seungcheol has to stay over for a meeting Jeonghan offers to drop you off.
Arriving at your new home, you slip off your heels and head towards your room. Looking through your drawers, you find some lounge wear to change into. After a long day at work, a scorching hot shower sounds amazing.
Walking into the bathroom you strip away your clothes. Stepping into the shower, you try to turn your brain off. This whole engagement with Seungcheol is still a lot to process.
Standing under the hot water, you try your hardest to turn off your brain, but you can't. You just keep thinking about the way everyone now looks at you.
There is this little voice inside your head that says people probably just think you're a gold digger.
Shaking your head, you try and push away the nasty thoughts. Grabbing your favorite shampoo, you start washing your hair.
Getting out of the shower you get dressed in the comfy clothes you picked out. Your bare feed pad across the hardwood floor as you make your way to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, you look for the ingredients to make something to eat. Cooking has always been one thing you like to do to relax.
Opening the drawer you find two steaks. You hestiate to pick them up. It feels weird to use things without asking for permission, but Seungcheol has told you a few time, that anything in the house is yours.
Pulling the steaks from the fridge you look for some veggies that would go good with them.
Grabbing your phone, you turn on some music. You sing along to each song as you prep your dinner. Maybe if Seungcheol doesn't get home super late, he can enjoy a warm meal for dinner.
You get lost in the music, and cooking. You plate the steak giving it time to rest. Walking over to the wine friend in the counter, you find a bottle of wine. You stare a the label for a moment, hoping and praying you didn't pick an insanely expensive bottle. Reaching into the cupboard you grab a glass.
You pour the deep cherry colored wine into the glass. The merlot tastes devine.
Sitting at the table by yourself you enjoy your second glass of wine. You're taking your time eating, hoping Seungcheol will be home soon. You know you can just ask him when he'll be home, but for some reason that feels inappropriate to you.
Scrolling through your phone as you slowly eat, you can't help but smile as the front door opens. A very exhausted looking Seungcheol walks in.
He looks up at the table and finds you giving him a gentle smile.
"Hi." He awkwardly waves.
"I made dinner for you."
You stand up quickly, and rush towards the kitchen. Seungcheol takes his time taking off his bag, and walks towards the dining area. Walking back into the dining area you place down the plate and bring another glass for wine.
"This looks amazing." Seungcheol is learning that you love cooking.
"Thank you. Sorry if you were saving these steaks."
He takes a seat across from where you were sitting. "Anything is this house is yours." He's told you this so many times. It's just extremely hard to wrap your mind around that.
Reaching out he grabs the bottle of wine, and pours himself a glass. Having dinner with him like this feels very domestic. It feels almost a little too real.
You eat in silence for a few minutes before he speaks again. "Sorry I had to stay so late at work. I'm trying really hard not to be as much of a workaholic." Anyone who knows him knows what a hard worker he is. He's always been known for speanding countless late night hours at the office. You've been there a handful of times with Jeonghan working late with him.
"My father called."
"What did he say?" You know that Seungcheol and his father's relationship can't be kind of difficult at times.
"He saw the news of our engagement, and has requested for us to join them for dinner one night." The idea of having dinner with Seungcheol's family is quite terrifying. You're sure they're nice people but they're extremely rich and live an very different life style then the one you're used to.
You knit your brows together, unsure of how to respond.
"I told them it can't be anytime soon, that we're very busy."
"Oh."
"We can avoid that dinner for a while. I have to travel quite a bit for work soon, and you won't be meeting them without me."
"Okay." Grabbing the glass of wine, you take another big drink.
"Hey." He reaches out, taking your hand. "I know this isn't a normal engagement, but just know that we're a team. I have your back, when you agreed to help me that meant we became partners." You still barely know him, but you can't help but feel as if you're catching feelings for him. Seungcheol is truly the ultimate man. It would be nearly impossible not to have a crush on him.
OH HES A GENTLEMAN
The media is having a hay day with the fact one of the cities most eligible bachelors is now taken. Everyone one online is talking about your "secret relationship." Too many threads online are speculating about how long you have been together.
Everyday you go into work holding Seungcheol's hand, and every afternoon you sit in his office eating lunch. Sometimes it's just the two of you, and occasionally Jeonghan will join.
He finds it quite humorous, watching the two of you play the role of the happily engaged couple.
You've be technically engaged for three weeks, and outside of work you haven't done anything together other then relax at home. You've had a handful of movie night, the select times Seungcheol is working from home on something.
Today, he came home from a meeting out of the office after eight. It's one of those night you didn't feel like cooking, so you settled for ordering yourself takeout from your favorite Thai food place, and made yourself comfortable on the couch, reading a book. Seungcheol barges in holding a shopping bag from Prada.
"Hi, darling." Ever since he proposed he started calling your this nickname. You won't complain though, you find it charming. You've never had anyone call you a sweet pet name.
"Hi, Cheol."
Pulling the blanket off your lap, you place your book down and walk over towards Seungcheol. "Did you go shopping?" You realized immediately that Seungcheol has a love for luxury designer items. All his suits he wears to the office are designer. Your favorite ones, being his Prada ones.
"I got you something." He holds the bag out towards you.
"Why?" You're very much not used to him buying you things, let alone expensive luxury items.
"Because you're my fiancée, and I saw this and thought of you."
Sitting the bag on the table, you pull out the tissue and find a black box with a bow on it. Your heart drops already knowing what's inside. One day while you were leaving work together you saw a woman with this bag and you told him how that was your dream bag. Your first mistake was letting him know you had a desire to own something expensive like this.
Opening the box, you want to cry at the sight, of the beautiful black leather bag, you've always dreamed of owning. To be quite honest, you're a little caught off guard by how much he's spoiling you. You have to remind yourself that this is a business transaction. That there are no romantic intentions behind his purchase. You need to tell yourself this a gift from a "friend."
"Seungcheol, this is beautiful." He gives you a crooked smile.
"I'm glad you like it." The second he knew you wanted this bag, he fully planned on buying it for you.
Your eyes start to water, you reach up pushing away your tears before they can fall. You can't help but feel embarrassed for crying in front of him. "I was thinking, even though this is a business transaction, that maybe we could still go on dates." You've been thinking about brining this up for the last few days. Angel had put the idea into your brain. Your best friend loves the idea that you and Seungcheol are living together. According to her, Seungcheol will treat you right and take care of you. She not wrong, you haven't been together that long and Seungcheol is actively going out of his way to be an amazing partner to you.
He nods and smiles. "I would love to take you out on dates." He steps toward you and leans in and presses his lips to your cheek for a gentle kiss. "How about we go out tomorrow night?"
"I would love that."
"What are you reading?"
"Just some romance novel Angel has been talking about nonstop." Your best friend has always loved a spicy romance novel, she's even roped you into reading them with her.
"What did you do for dinner?" Seungcheol asks as he removes his suit jacket.
"I ordered Thai food."
"Is there any left?"
"Yeah, I ordered enough for both of us."
You lead him into the kitchen and help dish him a plate. Sitting at the kitchen table, you silently read your book as he eats dinner.
-
Seungcheol made a big deal to both Seungkwan and Jeonghan that he need to be off on time today. He's gone out of his way to plan a romantic date night for you both.
Sitting at Jeonghan's desk, you're working on organizing his meetings for the next few days.
"You know your adoring fiancé is making a big deal about some date night?" Jeonghan looks up from his phone.
Your cheeks warm with blush. "Is he?"
"You now for this just being a business transaction, he's putting in a lot of effort to woo you." You thought when Seungcheol made this proposition, that this would simply be a business transaction, but things from the very beginning have felt a little too real.
The moment you clock out of work, Seungcheol is already at Jeonghan's office, ready to pick you up.
He's dressed in your favorite navy Prada suit he owns. In his hand he's holding a beautiful bouquet of red roses.
Jeonghan leans back in his desk chair, holding back a laugh. He's eating up the fact that Seungcheol is putting in a real effort.
"Are you ready to go?" Seungcheol asks, holding the bouquet out.
"Yes." Thank god you wore your favorite dress to work today, and decided to actually wear a pair of heels.
"Did you send Seungkwan off to pick those up?" Jeonghan chimes in.
"No." Seungcheol responds before grabbing your hand.
The second you step out of Jeonghan's office, hand in hand with the ceo of the company, all eyes are on you. Blush creeps up on your neck, realizing everyone in eye shot is staring at you.
Seungcheol squeezes your hand, snapping you out of your thoughts. He stops at the elevator. Leaning down his lips brush your ear. "Darling, ignore all of them."
Reaching, he presses the button. Silently you glance up at him. "You look beautiful." If only he knows that you wore a sexy red matching lingerie set he probably won't see.
The doors slide open and he leads you inside. As more people join you in the elevator, you end up practically pressed against him.
Walking outside you find Seungcheol’s expensive red Ferrari waiting for you. He wastes no time taking the flowers and holding the door open for you.
He jumps in the drive seat and puts the flowers back in your lap.
The drive to the restaurant is filled with a comfortable silence, as Seungcheol hums along to the radio.
You've learned since living with him, he loves singing along the radio lightly, and singing when he's in the shower.
He pulls the car up to the valet and you immediately recognize this restaurant. You've booked a few very important meetings for Jeonghan here. This place is crazy expensive.
The passenger door opens and Seungcheol is holding his hand out for you. "Come on, darling."
Your heels click against the marble floor. Hand in hand he leads you to host. "Two for Choi." He says holding up two fingers.
The hostess leads you over to a booth tucked away in the corner. Sliding into the booth, he sits down across from you. The hostess sits down a simple paper menu down in front of you. This place is known for the Omakase style. The sushi chef here is world renowned.
The waitress comes back over, and Seungcheol orders a nice bottle of sake.
Dinner is absolutely incredible. You've never had sushi this delicious before. The whole time you're eating and talking you can't help but notice how Seungcheol lights up as he talks to you. If you didn't know any better you might be think has feelings for you.
"Thank you for taking me out." You say before taking a sip of your sake.
"This is nice. We should try and go on a date once, or twice a week." When he talks to you like this, it's hard to tell yourself that this isn't real.
"I would like that."
The bill arrives and before the waitress can even put it down, Seungcheol is holding up his black card. You don't even want to know how expensive this date was.
Leaving the restaurant, Seungcheol immediately laces his fingers with yours. "Do you have room for dessert?" He ask before walking up to the valet.
"Yes."
"How do you feel about vanilla soft serve?"
"It sounds delicious."
Tugging on your hand, he leads you down the street to a little ice cream shop next door. He holds the door open, stepping inside you're reminded how overdressed you are. Your heels click against the tile. Seungcheol never releases your hand as he walks up and orders to cones.
The lady working the counter hands your a tall vanilla ice cream cone. Seungcheol leads your over to a little table by the window. He releases your hand as he helps you sit down. He takes his place across from you.
You slide your tongue through the creamy and sweet vanilla soft serve. Seungcheol's eyes stay on you, watching you enjoy your sweet treat.
"Have you been here before?" You ask before taking another lick.
"I like to come here after meetings. If it's a bad meeting it's a little pick me up, and if it's a good meeting, it's a celebration."
"What would you call this?"
"A celebration, after a nice date."
After ice cream you finally head back home. The whole ride you can't stop thinking about the way Seungcheol was looking at you. Recently, he's been flirting quite a bit, and things are just starting to feel too real. You realize maybe you really want things to be real.
THE TALK OF THE TOWN
Something about today feels off. Your morning started by spilling your coffee, and by the time you arrived to work with Seungcheol you're fed up with the constant stares from everyone at work.
Standing in the copy room, you're atempting to scan some items in peace. The door opens and you glance over to find two girls who work in accounting whispering and softly giggling. Taking a deep breath, you try and push away the negative thoughts floating around in your brain.
You know Seungcheol is used to being the talk around town, and having everyone stare at him, but you aren't used to this. You feel like a circus act.
Grabbing your papers, you quickly exit the room. You can feel both their eyes burning into you. Walking through office you can feel everyone continue to watch you.
Busting into Jeonghan office, you desperately need to escape everyone's prying eyes.
He looks up from his computer and knits his brows together. You must look absolutely frazzled.
"Are you okay?"
Closing your eyes you take another deep breath trying to gather yourself. "Yes." Lying feels like the best option at the moment.
"Sit down and stop lying to me."
Placing the papers down on the desk you sit across from him.
"What is going on?" He reaches for his coffee that's sitting next to him.
"I'm tired of everyone staring at me, and everyone talking about me when I enter a room here." You say quickly.
"Don't let them get to you, they're just jealous."
"Jeonghan, it's not that easy." You sigh.
"I know. But just know that Seungcheol and I will always have your back."
"Your fiancé has a meeting during lunch." He always gives you a mischievous smile whenever he refers to Seungcheol as your fiancé. "How about we go get some lunch together?"
"That would be nice."
Jeonghan leads you out of the office. You aren't sure what he has planned, but you follow him to the little cafe on the corner. The holds up two fingers and waiteess immediately leads you to the table by the window.
You sit down across from Jeonghan, picking up the menu. You realize you've had food delivered from this restaurant before for him.
"This is the place with your favorite chicken pesto sandwich."
"I was gonna order us lunch from here, but you clearly need an hour away from the office." Jeonghan sets his menu down. "I'm going to recommend my favorite, the chicken pesto. I would also suggest getting the lychee lemonade."
"How about you order for me," you give him a smile.
The waitress comes back and Jeonghan does order for you. This place is cute. Looking around, you wonder if Seungcheol would have lunch with you here one day.
The waitress comes back over and sets down a glass of ice cold lemonade in front of you, and a latte in front of Jeonghan.
"So, how is life being engaged?" He asked as he sticks his straw in his latte.
"Socially not the best, at home with Seungcheol—" At home things are feeling too real, and you cant help but constantly be confused.
Jeonghan raises his brow, before taking a sip of coffee. "Something tells me you're enjoying the aspect of sharing a home with him."
A heavy sigh passes your lips. "I can't talk about this with you. You're his best friend."
He shrugs. "Anything you say to me, won't be repeated. He may be my best friend, but I'm also friends with you."
"Things just feel a little too real right now."
Jeonghan nods before taking a drink of the cold beverage in front of him. "You know, Seungcheol seems happier since you both started the arrangement."
He's not wrong, before all of this started, whenever you would see Seungcheol around the office he was always sporting a frown. These days it's rare you don't see him smiling. The only time he doesn't seem happy, is when his father is in the office.
"He's not the only one that seems happier." You glances at you, raising his brow. "I don't think I have ever seen you this consistently happy." Before Seungcheol, you were a lot more stressed. Your job pays you well, but worrying about paying rent and all your expenses was too stressful at points. It's nice knowing, no matter what Seungcheol will take care of you.
"I feel happier. I spending time with him, and he's great to live with."
"I think you two would make a fantastic couple."
The waitress comes over and sets down both your meals. Jeonghan thanks her, and gives her a gentle smile.
"Aren't we already a couple?"
"I'm saying, if you start acting like this is fully real, you'll be even happier." Jeonghan's words play in your head on repeat. Over the last week or so you've wondered what it would like for your relationship with Seungcheol to be real. Sure, he takes you out and will hold your hand, but you want to know what it's like to kiss him and to be with him fully.
Arriving back at the office, you find Seungcheol by the elevator, with his phone pressed to his ear. The moment he see you and Jeonghan, he gives you a big smile.
Jeonghan nudges you and gently pushes you towards Seungcheol. Glancing over, you see the girls at the front desk clearly watching you, and whispering to each other.
Jeonghan immediately looks over at the girls. The startled look on their faces as he walks towards them says it all. The immediately stand up and bow their heads at him, clearly apologizing.
Seungcheol glances over there as he pockets his phone. He takes a couple steps towards you before pulling you into his chest for a hug.
He kisses the top of your head before you leading you towards the elevator.
-
CRAVING SOMETHING MORE
Sitting in Angel's favorite restaurant downtown, you're sipping on a latte listening to her talk about the crazy things Soonyoung has done to her in bed recently. It's been so long since you've been intimate with anyone, that hearing about her sex life is reminding you how much you miss sex.
"You look like you're zoning out." Angel says before taking a sip of her own latte.
"I'm listening." You raise your brow, leaning back.
"What's going through your mind?"
"Nothing." You don't want to have this conversation, let alone have it in the middle of a cafe.
"I don't believe you." She pouts. "Just tell me what's going on."
Reaching for your coffee, you take another sip of your ice latte. "Fine. I'm just thinking about the fact I miss being intimate with someone."
"Girl, last time I check you lived with a super hot buff guy who calls himself your fiancé."
"It's not that easy. We both know he's not fully my fiancé."
Angel dramatically rolls her eyes. "Um, last time I checked random men don't buy just any girl a Prada bag she's always dreamed of."
"He did that just to be nice." You look at said bag sitting on the table next to you.
"Girl, if you're missing sex and being intimate with someone, ride your sexy fake fiance." Angel has never been one to mend her words.
You're in the middle of a crowded cafe. The last thing you need is to have people hearing about your so called relationship with with Seungcheol. "Angel." You look around hoping no one is paying attention.
"What? You're the one who clearly seems to be pent up. Sometning tells me, your fiance would be down."
"Keep it down. I don't need the whole cafe in my business."
Angel smirks before taking a sip of her drink. "Are you bringing Seungcheol to my birthday tonight?"
"Yes." When you invited Seungcheol, you weren't sure if he would agree. It's been a few months since you've been faking your relationship, but you haven't attempted a social outing like this.
"Make a move on him tonight. Have yourself a little cocktail and loosen up and tell him you want to ride him into the sun." You can't even respond you just stare at her absolutely embarrassed. "Wear that skin tight lace dress I bought you. I promise you, Seungcheol won't be able to keep his hands to himself."
-
Arriving at Angel's luxury penthouse, you're dressed in the skimpiest dress you own. Standing outside the door, you keep attempting to smooth out the front of your dress. Seungcheol is standing next to you in a pair of black jeans, a white shirt that hugs his large frame, and a leather jacket. Looking down at your feet, you realize these high heels might have been a mistake.
"You look gorgeous by the way."
"Huh?" You look up at him, knitting your brows together.
"You keep messing with your dress, and I just want to let you know, you look incredible." He reaches out, taking your hand away from your stomach.
"I feel like the dress is too tight and makes my stomach stand out." You've always been a little bit self conscious about your body, and this dress isn't helping that.
"I promise you, you look sexy as hell."
Your ears burn with embarrassment. "Thank you."
The door swing opens and you find Angel standing there. "Come inside now." She grabs your free hand, pulling you and Seungcheol inside.
Her place is filled to the brim with too many people to count. Looking around, you see some familiar faces, and too people you have never seen before. She leads you off to her room where Soonyoung is sitting on her bed.
"Hi." He awkwardly waves to you and Seungcheol.
Angel releases your hand and walks over to Soonyoung. You immediately notice how he lights up instantly.
"I have the good alcohol tucked away in here. The last thing I need is people getting into my thousand dollar scotch." She walks over and grabs the expensive bottle of the dresser.
"How about we takes shots to celebrate my birthday?" She smiles.
"Sure." Seungcheol responds.
Soonyoung hops off the bed and goes over to the bar cart by her huge walk in closet. He comes back holding four crystal glass shot glasses.
Angel runs off to her closet while Soonyoung pours the dark liquor. She comes back dressed in a completely different dress. She wearing a vintage dress that looks incredible on her.
Soonyoung passes around the shots. Seungcheol raises his and says, "to the birthday girl."
Everyone takes their shots. The dark liquor burns as it slides down your throat. Your eyes stay trained on Seungcheol, watching as he's absolutely unfazed by the strong liquor.
Everyone puts there shot glasses back. Standing close to Seungcheol, he throws his arm over your shoulder, holding you close to him.
"My room is off limits to anyone who isn't in here now. If you guys need some privacy feel free to come in here." She raises her eyes brows at both of you suggestively.
Glancing up at Seungcheol you see him biting back a smile.
Reaching over, she grabs Soonyoung's hand and leads him out of her room. You're left standing their was Seungcheol.
"Should we go be social?" He asks.
"Probably."
Heading out of her room, you head off toward the kitchen. The kitchen is filled with people. Seungcheol makes his way to the fridge. He pulls out a bottle of beer and cracks it open.
"What would you like to drink?" He asks loud enough for you to hear over the booming music.
"I'll take a beer." He hands you the one he already opened and grabs another one.
It's not long before some of your friends find you, and immediately start chatting with Seungcheol. It seems everyone wants to know your "fiancée". You can't blame them, he's extremely charming and kind. You spend your night making small talk people. The whole night Seungcheol is by your side. Even when he's talking to someone else, you have his attention. His hand is always on you in one way or another. His hand on the small of your back makes every logical thought start slowly slipaway.
You excuse yourself, needing a moment to think. Walking through the crowded penthouse, you make your way to Angel's room. Heading to the ensuite bathroom you take your time using the restroom, before touching up your lip oil. You stare into the mirror, and start soothing out your dress.
A knock on the door startles you. You open door and aren't surprised to see Seungcheol standing there. His jacket is off, and your eyes instantly travel across his broad chest. This man looks mouth watering in absolutely anything he wears.
"I shouldn't have followed you, clearly you want space." He mumbles.
You shake your head. "I just needed a moment. I'm glad you followed me."
Without saying another word he steps towards you. He stands so close to you, there is barely any distance between you. Looking up at him you stand a slow breath. His large hand rest on rests on your cheek. Parting your lips slightly. He drags his thumb across your bottom lip.
"You're so pretty." He rasp. You can't think of anything to say, you just slowly blink at him. "My pretty fiancée." Leaning in his nose brushes against yours.
"Seungcheol?"
"Yes, darling?"
"Don't play games with me."
A smile tugs at his lips. "I would never do that."
The moment his lips touch you, the oxygen as been sucked out of the room. One hand holds your face, while the other rests on your side, holding you close to him. One of your hand clutches his shirt.
Your lips move together as if your need each other to breathe. He pulls back slightly and gives you a smile. He turns your body so you're pressed against the wall. Your dress rises up your thighs. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him down towards you.
Kissing him is intoxicating. Any liquor you had during the party is long gone from your veins. Now you're drunk on Seungcheol. His hands rest on your hips, holding your close to him. You don't know how long you've been kissing for. His lips muffle your moans.
Pulling back, his lips are smeared with your lip oil. You both look slightly disheveled. You should be enjoying the fact that you finally kissed, but right now the only thing you can think about is what this means.
"We should go home." He says, pulling away. Your stomach sinks instantly. Your heart rate picks up as anxiety kicks in. Maybe you shouldn't have made out with your fake fiancé.
The car ride back to the house, feels different. Seungcheol hand is resting on your thigh. You catch him occasionally glancing over at you.
The moment you're inside, Seungcheol says goodnight before quickly kissing your forehead and disappearing off into his room.
After finally stripping away your tight lace dress that's left you feeling uncomfortable all night, you finally step into a hot shower.
The hot water helps strip away the tension. No matter how hard you try, you can't get the feeling of Seungcheol's lips on yours out of your mind.
NOTHING MORE THAN A GOLD DIGGER
It's been a week since your kiss you shared, and absolutely nothing has changed. There are still the lingering touches from him and longing looks from you, but nothing more has happened.
It's been clear since this morning that Seungcheol isn't having a good day. It's a Saturday and normally neither of you work on the weekends. Today is different though, Seungcheol has spent all morning locked away in his office.
You spend the morning out with Angel getting lunch and you thought maybe by the time you returned home Seungcheol would be done working.
Sitting on the couch, you're mindlessly scrolling through your phone. Seungcheol's office door opens. He closes the door and pauses, taking a deep breath. He walks out into the living room and finds you sitting on the couch.
"Are you okay?" You close your phone, and sit it down on the couch next to you.
"I'm sorry to do this, but we have to go to my parents house for dinner tonight." The frustrated look on his face lets you know everything you need to know. He moves and sits down on the couch next you. He leans back, letting out a heavy sigh.
"I don't mind going." It's not exactly a lie. You will absolutely go to stand by Seungcheol side, but you're quite scared to meet his parents. Specifically his father.
He pushes himself up, resting his elbows on his knees. "I'm not saying this because you don't always look nice, but I need you to look extra nice tonight. My parents are judgy." You know what he means, you don't take offense to what he says.
"What should I wear?"
"Why don't you wear that Chanel dress I bought you, and pair of heels?" You know the exact dress he's talking about. He randomly gave it to you last week, and you told yourself you were going to save it for a special occasion. You didn't expect that special occasion to be meeting his parents.
"Okay. What time are we going?"
"Can you be ready by five?" That's two hours away, it won't take you that long to get ready.
"Yeah."
You both go your separate ways, Seungcheol heads off to his room, and you head off to your bathroom.
Turning the shower on, you let the water warm up. Stripping away your clothes you step into the warm water. Tonight calls for an everything shower. You wash your hair, scrub your body with you warm vanilla scented sugar scrub, before you take your time shaving.
After the shower you take your time, applying your fancy body oils, and lotions. Your goal is to feel as nice as possible tonight.
Heading off to the closet you find the exact dress Seungcheol gave you. The dress fits perfectly. The only problem is, you can't reach the back zipper. Picking up your heels you walk out into the living room. You glance into the kitchen to find Seungcheol standing there drinking what looks to be a glass of whiskey.
You drop your heels on the floor and walk towards. One of your hands is across your chest, holding up your dress.
"Can you help me with the zipper?"
He nods and walks up towards. Turning around you make sure your hair is out of the way. Slowly he slides the zipper up.
"There you go."
You turn back around to face him. His eyes slowly travel up and down your body, clearly checking you out.
"You look beautiful."
"Hopefully your parents like me." It shouldn't matter if they do, this whole relationship is fake, but you desperately want them to like you.
He stares at you trying to figure out what to say. He wants his parents to like you, but he knows how his father is.
"My dad is tough, but my mother is kind." He walks over and picks up the glass of whiskey. He chugs the rest of the liquid and doesn't even flinch.
"We should go." You say.
Arrive at Seungcheol's family home, you can't help but be in awe at how beautiful their home is.
Seungcheol parks his car in the driveway. The moment he's parked he hops out to open your door. He's clearly a mixture of nervous and frustrated.
Hand in hand he leads you to the front door. "No matter what, I have you back." Is the last thing he says before the door is opened.
Walking in you're immediately greeted by his mother. She's excited to see you both. She pulls Seungcheol in for a hug.
"Mother, this is my fiance." He does even get to say your name before his mother is pulling you in.
"Seungcheol said you're pretty, and he's not wrong, you're beautiful." Blush creeps across your cheeks. She releases you and leads you both towards the kitchen.
"Let's have a glass of wine."
Looking around the expensive hi-tech kitchen, you're truly reminded how different both your tax brackets are.
"Seungcheol, go get your father and tell him it's dinner time."
Seungcheol hand lingers on your lower back for a moment. He knits his brows together and opens his mouth, wanting to tell his mother no.
"I'll be okay." You mouth to him quietly.
Hesitantly, Seungcheol leaves you alone.
You glance over at Mrs. Choi, she gives you a gentle smile, one that reminds you of your own mother. She picks up a glass from the counter, and pours you a glass of white wine.
Taking the glass you stare at it for a moment before taking a sip.
"Seungcheol is a good man." His mother says.
"I know."
"My husband is a tough man, but he's tough because he's trying to protect the things he loves." This is her way of defending him. Seungcheol rarely speaks of his father, it's clear to you that they have quite a few issues.
"I would never do anything to hurt Seungcheol." You've fallen in love with her son, the last thing you want to do is hurt him.
"I can tell by the way that you both look at each other that you're in love." You stomach drops. Your feelings you have for Seungcheol don't feel like they're being reciprocated.
"He's a great man."
"I asked Seungcheol if you had any food allergies. I asked our chef to make something special for dinner tonight." She gives you another smile before taking a drink of her wine.
Seungcheol comes back alone. He can't hide the irritated look on his face. "He'll join us in a little while. Let's start dinner." He grabs your hand leading you towards the dining room.
Walking into the dining room, you're greeted by a long marble table. Four places are already set. Seungcheol shows you to your place and sits down next to you. His mother sits down across from you.
Silently, you sit there listening to Seungcheol and his mother talk. Its clear he's quite distant recently. She's a sweet lady, and it's clear she cares about her son.
The chef comes out and places down plates in front of you. The food looks absolutely delicious. Quitely you eat, listening to Mrs. Choi talk about a charity dinner she's hosting.
The moment Mr. Choi walks in the room the mood shifts. Mrs. Choi stands up to greet him. The feeling of Seungcheol large hand resting on your thigh instantly catches your attention.
"You must be my son's fiancée. The assistant." The way he's says your job title sounds degrading.
"Nice to meet you." Your voice is meek. You feel like you don't belong here.
"Don't speak to her like that." Seungcheol immediately responds.
His father barks out a laugh, sitting down at the table, across from him. A screaming silence takes over the room. The tension is so thick you can cut it with a knife. His father doesn't say anything else as another round of food is brought out.
His mother goes back to talking about her charity event. You silently sit there eating. You can feel Mr. Choi's eyes burning into you.
"So, how did you manage to seduce my son?" He gives you a pointed look.
Glancing at Seungcheol, he grinds his teeth. His hand squeezes your thigh.
"I didn't persue your son."
"That's funny." Mr. Choi barks out another laugh.
"I asked her out. She wouldn't give me the time of day for month. I persued her." Seungcheol responds.
"Seungcheol, you're the cities most eligible bachelor and you picked a gold digger." His venomous works sting. Wincing, You avert your eyes.
Shoving his plate forwards, Seungcheol stands quickly. "You will not speak to my fiancée that way. Darling, let's go home." He reaches for your hand.
"Cheol." his mother stands up quickly.
His father leans back in his chair with his eye burning into you.
"Mother, I'm sorry. I'm not going to sit here and let him speak to her like that."
"Baby, let's go home." He's never called you that before. You can see the desperation behind his eyes.
Standing, you let him lead you out of house. The moment you're outside, he lets out a heavy sigh.
"I'm sorry." Is all he can say.
"It's okay." You're hurt, but that's not his fault.
The car ride home is filled with silence. It's clear Seungcheol is extremely upset. Walking into the house, he pauses and stares at you.
"I'm sorry," he repeats again.
"I'm okay."
Walking over to you, he rests his hand on your cheek. You think for a moment he might kiss you. He leans in and gently kisses your cheek before heading off to his bedroom.
-
No matter how hard you try, you can't sleep. Lying in bed staring at the ceiling, your mind wonders to Seungcheol. Pulling yourself out of bed you glance at yourself in the full length mirror. You're dressed in panties that barely cover your butt and a baggy shirt that hits mid thigh. You should find a robe or something but right now, you just need to to get out of this room. Maybe a glass of water or something will help you relax.
Your sock covered feet pad against the hard wood floor. Walking through the living room, you glance over and see Seungcheol office door is cracked open, light is flickering out into the dark living room.
No thoughts are in your head as you walk towards his office. Not bothering to knock you peak your head in. You find his laptop in front of him. He's dressed in just a pair of cotton gray lounge pants. His beautiful bare torso is on display.
The sound of the door creeking closed catches his attention. Raising his head, his eyes catch yours.
"What are you doing up?" He pushes his chair back a little.
"I couldn't sleep."
"Why?"
"I was worried about you."
He pushes his fingers through his dark hair, and lets out a sigh. "You shouldn't have to worry about me."
You take a step towards his desk. His eyes travel up and down your very exposed legs. Thinking maybe you should have found something else to wear.
"Dinner upset you." You place your hand on the expense marble top desk.
"I was upset, because he was rude to you." He lets out a sigh. "I don't ever want to see you upset, and knowing that my father was intentionally rude to you—" he blinks and looks away. "I just don't like that he treated you that way, and he thought he could say those cruel things to you."
"I don't care what he thinks about me. I just care about what you think." You walk around the desk. He rolls his chair back, giving you room to stand in front of him.
He looks up at you with sad eyes. Reaching our you rest your hand on his cheek. "I don't like seeing you upset."
"I'm not upset anymore."
Pulling back, you rest your butt against his desk. You stare at him, studying him carefully. Ever since that kiss you shared, you've desperately wanted to do it again.
Reaching out he silently mess with the hem of your baggy shirt. "I like your pajamas."
Blush flushes your cheeks. "I should have put a robe on."
He shakes his head, standing quickly. "No, you shouldn't have." He takes a step towards you, caging you in against his desk. The tension in the room is thick. Leaning in he brushes his nose against yours.
"Cheol—"
"Yes, darling?" He pulls back slightly.
"Why haven't you kissed me again since the party?" That kiss you shared has been living in your mind on repeat.
His hand rests on your cheek. Slowly he drags his thumb across your bottom lip. "I was afraid you didn't want me to kiss you again. I feel like I keep messing things up with you."
"I want you to kiss me again." You muster up every single ounce of confidence you have.
"My fiancée wants another kiss?" He raises his brow.
"Please."
He leans in slowly, leaving you desperate for what's to come. First touch of his lips is intoxicating. One hand rest on your hip, while the other holds your face. This kiss feels different, feels desperate and lust filled.
He pulls back and looks are you with lust blown eyes. Both your lips are swollen from the intense kiss.
"More." You whisper.
Without another word, he grabs your hips lifting your on to his desk. The marble is cold against the bare skin of butt and thighs. A shiver runs down your spine. Seungcheol stands between your spread legs, crashing his lips into yours. His lips are air and your oxygen deprived lungs. Wrapping your arms around his neck you hold him close. His hands run up and down your shirt cover sides.
He pulls back just a little to judge your reaction. "More." You repeat as you chase his lips.
Pushing his hand up under your baggy shirt, you feel his calloused hand run along your side. Pushing yourself towards him, you're desperate for more.
One of his hands moves to your butt, groping the flesh through your panties. Absentmindedly, a moan leaves your lips.
"You sound so pretty," he practically moans as his lips make a trail from your jaw down to the most sensitive part of your neck.
"Cheol." You moan his name like a sinful prayer.
He slips his hand under your panties. Grabbing your cheek, and pulling you towards the edge of the desk. It desperate moan leaves your lips, feeling Seungcheol hardened erection pressing against your panty covered core.
"Fuck me." You aren't quite sure where that came from, but you want him so badly it hurts.
"Baby, we shouldn't have our first time on my desk while I'm upset." He pulls back with wide eyes. He's trying his hardest to think logically.
"Okay." You pull back from him. The instant feeling of rejection is almost too hard to bare.
He leans in and presses his lips to yours for a soft kiss, the complete opposite of what you just experienced. "Hey, don't do that. I want you so fucking bad, but I don't want our first time to be like this. You deserve romance, and something sweet. This feels rushed and horny." You definitely weren't expecting him to say that.
"Horny?" You can't help but smile.
"Yes, this feels like we're a couple of horny teens."
"Okay."
"We should go to bed."
He helps you get off the desk. He doesn't move though, he stands right in front of you. Placing his hand on your cheek, he leans down to give you another kiss.
Taking your hand, he leads you out of his office. You wish he would take you to his room, but it's clear he's trying to be a gentleman.
-
Falling asleep was nearly impossible after kissing Seungcheol again. You fell asleep dreaming of him.
By the time the morning light was peaking through your curtains, your eyes flutter open.
After last night, you've grown tired of playing cat and mouse with Seungcheol. You're tired of pretending, you want to be with him fully. You're sick of this just being pretend.
Crawling out of bed, you head to the bathroom to quickly brush your teeth. You're hoping you can catch Seungcheol before he goes to the gym for his morning work out.
Your sock covered feet pad across the hardwood floor. Walking up to Seungcheol room, you see the light peaking out from below the door.
Taking a deep breath you knock on the door. You hear his foot steps and the door opens. He knits his brows and stares at you, looking confused. He's dressing in his gym clothes, you must have caught him before he was heading out.
"We need to talk." You say.
"Sure."
"Do you want me?" You're being brave. If you want this game of cat and mouse to end, this is the only way.
"Yeah, my god I want you so bad."
Nothing else is said. Throwing yourself forward you wrap your arms around his neck. Your lips crash together for a searing kiss. Grabbing your hips, he walks you back into his room, your lips never parting as he kisses you, as if he needs you to breathe.
"You're killing me with your pajamas."
Pulling away he reaches for your shirt. He rips it off you quickly, leaving you standing there in just your panties and socks.
His eyes are lust blown. Crashing his lips back into yours, he kissed his way from your lips, down your neck. Biting your bottom lip, you try and hold back a moan.
His fingers hook into your panties, pulling them down your thighs, slowly. Mindlessly he kisses the top of your mound while looking up at you through his lashes.
"Cheol—" his name is nothing more then a desperate moan.
He pulls back with his lips slightly swollen. "Let me take care of you."
"Okay."
"Get on the bed, baby." There he goes calling you baby again. If you aren't already wet, you would be now.
He places a knee on the bed. His eyes are filled with lust as he stares at you. Leaning up on your elbows you watch your fiancé remove his shirt. He tosses it across the room, towards the pile of your clothes.
Sitting on his knees between your spread legs, his large hand gently rubs your thigh. "You're stunning, and seeing you spread out like this for me is driving me crazy."
"Cheol—"
"Seeing you last night in nothing but your panties and that shirt, practically drove me insane. It took everything in me not to give in, and fuck you, just like you asked." His words leave you even more turned on.
"Seungcheol—"
"Yes, darling?" He gives you a wicked grin.
"Please touch me." You've never been one to beg, but right now you'll do anything to be with him.
He moves so he's hovering over you. Tangling your fingers in his hair, you pull him closer to you. He pulls back with the same grin.
"I want to taste you."
Silently, you nod, desperate for more.
He leaves a wet trail of kisses from your jaw down. He drags his tongue between the valley of your breast. He takes his time groping each of your breast. While one hand plays with one breast, the other sucks and toys with your nipple, earning a whining moan from you.
Closing your eyes you toss your head back. "Cheol—"
"Such an impatient girl." He teases.
He goes back to dragging his tongue down the valley of your breast. He spots at the top of your mound.
He moves so he's laying on his stomach with needy core in front of him. You look down at him, and find him staring at you with his lust filled eyes.
"You're already so wet." He drags his fingers through your wet folds. "Did you get wet just from making out?" He takes his finger into his mouth, tasting your slick. "You taste just as sweet as I thought you would."
He takes his time kissing the inside of your thigh couple times, helping to relax you. "Baby, I want you taste you."
He dives into your pussy, like a man starved. He takes his time sucking on your clit while he toys with your entrance.
One of his fingers slide into you with ease. His eyes never leave yours as he toys with you. Then licks fat strips across your clit. He adds another finger, helping to stretch you out. You haven't seen him fully naked, but you know that he's massive. Just based on his built, and how he looks walking around in sweatpants. You know he's packing.
Without thing you tangle your fingers in his dark hair. Pushing your hips up, you desperately try to to bring yourself closer to that edge.
"Baby, you're so needy." He laughs pulling his lips away from your core. He never stops thrusting his finger in and out of you. "I know you can come. Be a good girl and come for me."
Breathlessly, you nod. Sinking into the overly expensive cotton sheets, your orgasm hits you hard and fast. Your fingers tug in his hair for a moment before all the muscles in your body relax. Your walls flutter around his fingers, as he massages your gummy walls helping you ride out your high.
He pulls back and slips his wet fingers back into his mouth.
"Darling, how do you like it?" You definitely weren't expecting him to ask that. You don't think you've ever had a man ask you that before.
"I don't know."
He cocks his head to the side. "Baby, what do you mean you don't know?"
"I just want you, and I'll take anything you'll give me." You hold your hand out towards him.
"Grab a pillow, and put it under your hips." Without thinking you follow his instruction. He hops off the bed and goes over to the nightstand. Pulling out a box of unopened condoms, and a bottle of lube.
Your eyes watch him carefully as he strips away his clothes. It's a mouth watering sight, watching his massive erection smack against his stomach.
He grabs the box and before he can even open it, you mutter out his name.
"Yeah?"
"We can go bare. I'm on birth control and I'm clean."
He tilts his and asks. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah."
Picking up the bottle of lube, he clicks it open and pours some across his length. He slowly pumps it with his eyes trained on you.
Crawling back onto the bed, he picks the lube back up. "This might be a little cold." Slowly, he pour the cool liquid onto your needy core. He takes his time massaging your opening with the lube.
"I'm big, so this might hurt." By the looks of his massive cock, you feel like that's an understatement.
He moves so he's sitting on his knees between your spread legs. He takes his length in his hand, he run the rosy tip through your folds a few times. Intentionally making sure he bumps your sensitive clit.
"I'll go slow, and if you get uncomfortable we can stop." He insane if he thinks you'll stop him. You aren't sure you have ever wanted a man more then you want him. Even if sex with him is a little painful, you'll take anything he can possibly give you.
The first inch is quite uncomfortable. The way you gasped silently is enough to make his brain short circuit. He watches you carefully, making sure you aren't in too much pain.
You reach for his hand. You want to touch him desperately. He moves his body so he's closer to you as he slowly slides in inch by inch. He doesn't move for a moment, he stay still, filling you to the brim.
Leaning down his rest his nose against yours. "You feel so good." He whispers.
"You're really big," you let out the softest laugh.
"You're just really tight." He pushes himself back a little. He's resting on his elbow, practically plastered against you.
"I might be tight, but anyone would be when you have a massive cock."
He can't help but smile at your statement. You don't understand how cute he thinks you are. He reaches out, brushing your hair away from your face.
"You can move." He leans down, pressing his lips to yours for a sweet kiss.
Your first time together isn't some rough passion filled night. Seungcheol wants your first time together to be passionate, but romantic. He keeps a slowly and deep pace. With pull of his hips, he leaves just the tip inside of you. Driving his hips back in at a firm pace, he practically kisses your cervix with his length.
Everything about your fiancé is massive and the feeling of him covering you as he slowly fucks you is absolutely intoxicating.
Lifting your leg you rest your foot on his back. He sets a slow but deep pace. Your fingers are tangled in his hair, holding him close to you.
"You feel so good." You moan.
"You were made for me." He moans against your neck. "You're such a good girl for me."
You stay like this forever with him. With each thrust he touches that spot deep inside you, that has you seeing stars.
Closing your eyes you tilt your head back. All the nerves in your body feel alive. Your second orgasm is rapidly approaching. Biting your bottom lip, you try to stay quiet.
"I wanna hear you." He moans.
"Fuck—" All logical words have left your brain.
One of your hands grip the sheets below you. He picks up his pace, your grip on his cock, letting him know you're close.
"Baby just let go." His sweet sinful words push you over the edge. For a moment it feels as if every muscle in your body is tense. White hot wave washes over you like you've never quite experienced before. Suddenly you feel more relax than you ever have. Your walls flutter around his lenght like a heartbeat.
He never stops thrusting, he helps you ride out your high. He pulls back, earning a whimper from you. He pulls out of you and sits in his knees his still hard cock, is covered in your release.
"Come here, baby."
Using every ounce of strength you have, you crawl to him. While he's sitting on his knees, you straddle his thighs. Reaching between you, you line yourself up with he length. Ever so slowly you sink back down.
He lets you set the pace. Instead of bouncing up and down, you rolls your hips into his. His lips are all over your throat, definitely leaving marks in his wake.
You can tell he's getting close by the moans falling from his lips. His hands grip your hips, helping to guide you up and down his length at a quicker pace.
Your third orgasm comes out of nowhere. Throwing your head back you moan his name. Leaning forward your rest your head on his shoulder.
Your walls contracting around him, push him over the edge. He holds you flush against his thighs, as he paints your walls with his milky release.
Pulling your head back you look at him with a lazy smile.
Slowly, you pull yourself off him and lay down on the bed. He hops off and heads to the bathroom. The site of his naked butt jogging away is something you're never forget.
He comes back holding a warm wash cloth. He takes his time gently cleaning up the mess he's made of you.
After disposing of the towel he crawls into bed with you. Laying on your side you're staring at him. He's lying next to you laying on his side. Reaching out he grabs your hand.
"I love you." He says those three words you have been dying to hear.
"I love you too." Even if you were too scared to admit it, you've been in love with him for a while. "I don't want this to be fake anymore."
"It hasn't been fake for a while. In my eyes, you've been mine." He says with the sweetest smile.
"You're mine too."
He closes the distance and kisses you. Pulling back he says "We can make this real. Screw dating, I want to actually marry you."
"I would like that, but maybe we should properly date and stuff."
He lets out a little laugh. "We can do that. But I'm still calling you my fiancée."
"Alright. We're officially engaged."
If you would've known going on that date and pretending to be Angel would lead you here, you would have never tried to get out of going on that date with Seungcheol. You never expected to date him, let alone fall in love with him and end up engaged for real.
"I love you, baby." He leans in for another kiss.
"I love you too."
an: this might get a part 2 for their wedding or it might make a sequel with Angel and Soonyoung that has these two love birds wedding. If anyone would be interested in reading that pls let me know.
PAIRING: F.Reader x ot13
PACK MEMBER FOCUS: Junhui and Joshua
PACK MEETING: Joshua has never helped you through your heat before. Thankfully, Junhui is a pro.
REQUESTED BY: @joshujinREQUEST: jun teaches joshua how to take care of reader during a heat bc he's a nervy beta. jun probably also calms joshua down with some super gay kisses idk tho. if any of this doesn't align with how you're planning on characterizing them tho then just do whatever ily!!!
GENRE: Fluff, smut
AU: Omegaverse
WC: 4448
RATING: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It may contain explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.
PACK WARNINGS: This has no plot. The plot is sex. Some hormone talk, reader is needy, some mild dom/sub dynamics via junhui being an alpha, joshua a beta, and reader an omega, threesome, nipple play, lots of kissing, lots of senses and feelings and shit, unprotected sex, oral (f. receiving) vaginal fingering, lots of spit and slick, some mild biting, scenting, boys kissing because we love polyamory in my house, pet names, lots of praise, praise kinks implied, heat dynamics, nervous joshua... um i think thats it
SMUT NOTICE: This chapter is centered around smut and shout be skipped if you don’t like reading smut - it makes little sense to read without.
A/N: Actually shot out to @haologram for helping me narrow down what chapter to fill next. We are not sorry Trixiana Grande. You will live <3
A/N 2: As usual this is not beta read this because I’m impatient and just wanna post these as I finish writing them.
HOUSE RULES M. LIST | MAIN M. LIST | ASK
YOUR HEAT BURNS THROUGH YOU LIKE A LIVING THING, TURNING YOUR INSIDES INTO LIVING HELL. Your skin feels too tight, pulling at the edges and cleaning to the sheets beneath you, the sticky surface of your body covered in a thin sheen of perpetual sweat. The only source of relief is Junhui's callused hand moving down your side, his light touch grounding. You shiver as his fingers graze your ribs, your stomach, your thighs, each point of contact only ramping up the furnace under your skin.
You whimper, unable to stop the sound from crawling up the back of your throat. You squeeze your thighs together, the ache so intense that you feel like the room is spinning - or maybe it is, you can't be sure, though it doesn't seem entirely likely.
"I know," Junhui coos, squeezing your thigh a little. "I've got you, baby."
Junhui’s face is close to yours - close enough that you can count each one of his dark, silky eye lashes. He’s pretty like this, his blonde hair falling across his forehead, slightly damp from the shower he’d taken with you earlier that morning. Your eyes trace the careful curve of his lips, landing on your favorite mole just above his pink upper lip.
Junhui's scent wraps around you then, purposeful and warm to steady your pounding heart and elevated anxiety. He smells like cedar and the black tea he likes to drink in the morning, your brain fracturing a little through the haze of your heat at the familiarity of it.
The bed dips slightly and you glance toward the new weight, suddenly aware of Joshua. He sits with his legs folded beneath him, his dark eyes wide as saucers, bottom lip tucked between his teeth as his gaze darts between you and Junhui. He’s pretty even when he’s nervous, the softness of his face easing you with the sharpness of Junhui. His fingers twist in the sheets like he's unsure what to do with his hands, dark hair a little disheveled from running his hands through it too many times.
Junhui notices it too. Of course he does - he's an alpha. Though he's not the head alpha of this pack, there is very little that Junhui doesn't notice, and right now he's reaching for Joshua gently, an encouraging smile on his face.
"Shua," he murmurs. "Come here."
The beta only hesitates for a moment. You watch him with heavy eyes as he slides closer, the mattress shifting. It jostles you a little and you whine, but Junhui tuts at you gently, his other hand reaching to help Joshua settle near you. You immediately lean toward him, sliding your head across the bed to press it near his knee.
"She needs you," Junhui tells him. His hand restarts tracing patterns on your thigh and you nod, agreeing with him. You do need Joshua - desperately. "I'll show you, yeah?"
"I don't want to hurt her."
"You won't," Junhui assures him. "Like this."
Junhui slides his hand from your leg back up your body until he's cupping the back of your neck, his thumb brushing the sensitive skin of your scent gland. You shudder, feeling your heart flutter as your eyes go unfocused for a second. For a moment, all you can sense is Junhui's thumb against you, not quite scenting you but enough contact to make you press your forehead to Joshua's knee, panting.
"Touch her like this on the other side," Junhui murmurs. "She likes a thumb on her scent gland. You don't have to press. Just put some light pressure."
Joshua follows Junhui's lead, reading a hand to cup the back of your neck and tilt your head up. You look up at him, the light coming in from the window blinding you for a second until his face swims into focus. Joshua is pretty, the slope of his nose perfect and his full lips curling into a smile as his thumb swipes back and forth against your scent gland, making you trill.
It feels good, cedar and juniper twisting together as they settle on either side of you, the weight of them on the mattress making you sink further, their knees brushing your sides. You turn toward Joshua, seeking the calm balance of his cool palm and juniper scent while Junhui's warm cedar presses in.
"You're so warm," Joshua whispers.
"Heat," you croak. "Very hot."
Junhui chuckles. "Everything will be more intense for her right now." His fingers leave your neck to card through your hair, his nails scratching bluntly against your scalp. You melt into it with a soft sound and Joshua smiles down at you. "See? She reacts well. She'll tell you what she needs."
"Touch me," you beg, looking at Joshua through your lashes. "Please."
Joshua complies, his hand sliding down your arm slowly. The slow drag of his fingers over your skin feels like heaven, your eyes rolling back as you lose yourself to the touch. You feel yourself melt into the bed, his touch growing more confident until he's lacing his fingers with yours. You immediately give them a squeeze and he squeezes back, and when you glance at him again, you see the way he's softened a little, happy to be close to you.
"Kiss her," Junhui hums. "She likes that."
Joshua glances down at you and you nod eagerly, sliding up the bed a little to give him room. Hand still wrapped in yours, he leans down to brush his lips against yours. They're soft and questioning at first, barely more than a brush of lips until you make a desperate sound against him and surge forward, kissing him properly.
He complies, deepening the kiss as he lets go of your hand to cradle your head, angling your face toward him. His tongue presses the seam of your lips and you open up for him immediately, the warmth of his mouth and tongue inviting. He tastes like honey and something else sweet and addicting, your own hands coming up to pull him closer.
Kissing Joshua is different from kissing Junhui. Despite Junhui's steady and calm nature, he can be demanding, his kisses severe and consuming. This isn't that. This a languid press of mouths, the soft sweeping of Joshua's tongue along the ridge of your teeth, the bumping of his nose into yours until he's pulling away to catch his breath.
"Perfect," Junhui says quietly. "See how much she needs you?"
Joshua nods, resting his forehead against yours. His pupils are blown wide, nearly swallowing the warm brown of his irises. His lips are pretty and pink, a little swollen from kissing you and you smile, leaning forward to steal another kiss, nipping his bottom lip gently. He laughs into your mouth, letting you steal as much of him as you want, your hunger insatiable.
When you pull back again, his eyes are still closed, his breathing heavier. "Tell me what to do, baby. What do you want?"
The words get stuck in your throat. Cedar and juniper clash in your thoughts, your body locked in the heat so fully that Joshua's words turn to a tangled mess when you try to process them, a frustrated sound working its way up your throat.
"Touch her," Junhui answers for you, sensing the frustration. "Sometimes she struggles to communicate. Just go with the flow and don't worry about being wrong. Your instincts know what to do."
Nodding, Joshua slides his hand from your face down your neck, his fingers lingering over the rapid flutter of your pulse before he drags them to your collarbone, lightly tracing the indents of Soonyoung's teeth from the night before. You arch into his touch, chasing it - craving it - and he makes a small sound of surprise, like he can't believe you need him this much.
"Good." Junhui's hand settles on your waist, keeping you anchored to the bed. "See how she responds? Keep doing."
Joshua listens to the alpha, his touch growing bolder. He leans down and kisses you again, deeper and hungrier and you let it consume you. His hand traces the curves of your body, his fingers curling slightly to drag the blunt edge of his nails down your hips. You moan into his mouth and he moans back, the sound of his despair echoed so acutely that it makes your thoughts turn cottony and thick, sticking together as you shiver.
"Please," you beg, your voice wrecked. "Please."
"Easy, baby," Junhui soothes, bending down to kiss your temple. His own hand slides down to your thigh where he grips you and opens you up, cool air hitting your soaked cunt. "Shua's going to take care of you. Aren't you Shua?"
"Yes," Joshua says, and his voice has dropped, gone rough around the edges in a way you've never heard before.
He kisses down your jaw and your throat, his lips soft, tongue darting out to taste you. You squirm but Junhui keeps you pinned, his hand on your hip and tight as Joshua's mouth finds the sensitive spot where your neck meets your shoulder. He runs the flat of his tongue across the delicate skin there and you cry out as Junhui chuckles. You feel Joshua grin against your skin as he lingers there, sucking at your neck gently, the sensation shooting right through you and turning the pit of your stomach molten.
"Perfect," Junhui murmurs. He lifts the hand off your hip to press Joshua's shoulder. "Lower."
Joshua works his way down your body with his lips, tongue and teeth, each press of his mouth both a burn and balm. His mouth is hot against your sternum, your ribs, the soft skin of your stomach, each kiss like a brand. He's careful as he shifts down the bed and you feel your stomach flip when Junhui pries your legs wider while Joshua slides to his knees at the edge of the bed.
Junhui follows him down, moving to kneel behind Joshua. He wraps himself around Joshua's back, chest pressed close enough that he can hook his chin over Joshua's shoulder so he can murmur directly into the beta's ear. You can see the way Joshua relaxes slightly into Junhui's presence, leaning back into the alpha, turning to press his forehead against Junhui's neck briefly as he breathes him in.
"Start slow," Junhui murmurs, lips dragging against the shell of Joshua's ear. You stare at them between your legs, watching as Junhui's eyes drag up to yours, pupils blown and hungry. He reaches around Joshua, caging him in as he places his hands on your knees, spreading you wider. "She's sensitive, so anything you do will feel overwhelming. I recommend soft licks."
Nodding, Joshua leans forward, his breath ghosting across your inner thigh as he settles close. Your thighs twitch but his grip is firm, keeping you open for Joshua's hungry gaze.
You forget how to breathe, watching as your heart flutters like a humming bird trapped in a cage. Joshua follows Junhui's instructions exactly, dragging his tongue slowly and deliberately through your sticky folds. The sensation punches right through you, your back arching off the bed as a broken sound escapes you, voice cracking. Junhui's hands tighten on our knees, keeping you in place as Joshua's tongue circles your swollen clit.
"Take your time." Junhui nips Joshua's ear playfully and the beta moans, the sound vibrating through you. You twist your hips, the sensation overwhelming. "Hmm. She liked that."
Joshua nods, humming again. Your lashes flutter, heading pushing back into the mattress as his tongue works in long, slow strokes, occasionally using the tip of his tongue to circle your clit with just enough pressure to make you gasp before he dips back down to tease your aching hole. It makes the heat in your blood sing, his mouth soft and warm and wet and fuck.
"Suck gently," Junhui recommends. "That makes her lose it."
"Yeah?" Joshua asks, panting as he pulls away and looks up at you. His eyes are completely blown, lips glossy with your slick. He looks debauched, so different from the polished beta who likes to make you scones on Sundays. "Let me try."
Joshua's lips close around your clit and he sucks gently. The sensation is so intense you nearly sob, your hands coming up to hide your face as your entire body goes tight. He smiles against you, laughing a little as he fastens his mouth to your pussy, sucking in gentle tugs that make your entire bed spin on its axis while Junhui's thumbs stroke small circles on the inside of your knees.
"You're doing so good," Junhui whispers. "I bet she feels so good."
Joshua pulls back just enough to look up at you, his eyes dark and hazy, his lips and chin glistening. The sight of him on his knees with Junhui wrapped around him makes something in your chest crack open, your heart stopping and starting all over again as Joshua smirks and dives back in, confident and hungry.
"Tastes so fucking good," he mumbles, nose bumping your clit. "Could do this all the time."
"Let me taste," Junhui says and leans over Joshua's shoulder.
Joshua turns to face Junhui, letting the alpha steal a wet kiss that's all tongue. You stare, watching as Joshua submits easily to Junhui as the alpha sucks the taste of you right off Joshua's tongue. When they pull apart, Joshua is a little breathless as Junhui grins and glances at you, tongue swiping across the bottom of his lip.
"Delicious."
Junhui pushes Joshua's head forward then and the beta follows right back to your pussy, his tongue finding a rhythm that is slow and devastating, swapping back and forth between broad strokes and focused attention on your clit as he traces patterns that make you writhe.
You feel Joshua's hand slide up your thigh, guided by Junhui's grip on his wrist as he tentatively presses a finger into your wet heat. You gasp, feeling the stretch combined with the flutter of his tongue stealing the breath from your lungs. He curls his finger exactly as Junhui instructs, pressing against your front wall so that you see stars, cursing up at the ceiling as he drags you toward an orgasm.
His tongue works your clit in steady, rhythmic circles while his finger moves inside you, and the dual sensation builds and builds until you're lost in it, suspended in the feeling of an orgasm that waits and waits and waits until it finally breaks and rushes in.
You come hard, your pleasure suddenly having no start or end but a looping, endless twitching of thighs and clenching walls. You grit your teeth, unable to breathe for a few seconds until you finally gasp for air, body loosening slightly. Joshua's mouth is still on you but it's soft now, his tongue soothing and avoiding your clit, finger pressed deep as he sucks at you messily, making little sounds of enjoyment as he does.
"She's so fucking pretty when she comes," Junhui groans. "Fuck."
Joshua pulls back slowly, his lips and chin glistening, eyes dark and hazy as he looks up at you. His lips curl upward, pupils dilated as he presses slick-wet kisses to the sides of your thighs, leaving shiny marks as he goes. Junhui's hands leave your knees, your legs trembling a little as you let them fall open, your muscles turning to jelly.
Junhui reaches for Joshua. "Come here."
Joshua rises on shaky knees and Junhu catches him before he loses his balance, cupping the back of his neck to pull him to his feet and into a kiss. It's slow and deep, and you watch with your heart beating and fingers twisting into the sheets as Junhui gets a taste of you from Joshua's lips before pulling back. He wipes his thumb across Joshua's bottom lip and pops it into his mouth, humming.
"Tastes good." Junhui looks at you and his gaze darkens. "She needs more of you, Shua."
Joshua nods. "I want to give more."
"Slow," Junhui says, dropping his hands to the hem of Joshua's shirt to pull it over his head. The beta shivers and nods, a little dazed as Junhui's nibble fingers pull at the strings on Joshua's sweatpants next. "Slow and deep. She likes hard and fast the first day of heat - that's what Soonyoung took care of last night. Today we just need her to feel it."
Joshua nods, kicking off his sweatpants to crawl onto the bed, shuffling on his knees. You mouth waters at the sight of him, all tan and smooth from summer days spent at the pool, broad at the shoulder and perfectly tapered in the waist. His cock is heavy, the tip swollen with need as he makes a sound in the back of his throat when you reach for him.
He lets you grab his hands, pulling him down for a kiss that tastes like you. You don't mind, sliding your hands through his sweaty hair, nails dragging down the nape of his neck as he hums, pleased. The smell of him calms you down, pheromones soothing and making you sigh into the kiss, melting back into a state of calm as he settles between your legs.
Junhui shifts on the bed then, momentarily distracting you as you break away from Joshua's kiss. Junhui is kneeling on the bed, blonde hair disheveled in the low light. He's stripped down to his sweats, the hard planes of his stomach twitching as he crawls over, his dark eyes fixated on you. His shoulders are just as broad as the beta between your legs, but there's a predatory grace to the way that Junhui moves that makes him sharper.
Joshua makes room for him, sitting up on his knees as he pries you open further at the knees, your thighs stretching in protest. Cool air hits your cunt and you whine, but Joshua shuts you up as he rubs the fat head of his cock against your slick entrance, pressing just enough to stretch you but not enough to slide past. You let out a pathetic noise and he grins until Junhui growls.
"Don't tease her," the alpha warns.
Joshua goes pink in the cheeks, nodding. "Sorry."
Junhui huffs, bending down to cup your face and turn you toward him for a soft kiss. You preen under his affection, leaning toward him to kiss him back eagerly. He laughs, the sound buzzing through your lips and making your head spin as his tongue slides against yours just as Joshua grips your hips and presses his cock into your heat.
It's slow, but it steals your breath away anyway. You gasp against Junhui's mouth, breaking the kiss to glance at where Joshua is focused on sliding home, head ducked down to watch his cock disappear inside of you, his shoulders slick with sweat.
"Fuck," you hiss and Junhui smiles, placing wet kisses against your temple, teeth scraping lightly. "Feels so fucking good."
"Mhmm," Junhui agrees. His lips move to your jaw, sucking the skin there lightly before he licks down to your throat, tongue dancing around your scent gland. You go blank for a minute, vision whiting out until Joshua is pressed in to the hilt. "You're doing so good, baby. So perfect for Shua."
Joshua trembles slightly, tension thrumming through him as he fights to control himself. Where an alpha might start slamming into you, Joshua waits, the stretch and pressure of him pressing against your walls so good that you clench around him on instinct, making him let out a broken laugh.
"So tight, baby," he gasps. "So good."
Junhui hums in agreement, his kisses trailing to your collarbones. "Move now. Long, deep strokes."
Joshua listens, withdrawing slowly so that the drag of him against your walls makes you cry out. He pushes in just as deliberately, snapping his hips so the stroke is deep. It punches the breath from your lungs and you grab onto Junhui, who doesn't mind, letting you dig your nails into his arms and hands as he lavishes attention to the swells of your chest.
The rhythm Joshua sets is torturous, each stroke deep and measured that forces you to feel every inch of him, hitting that spot inside of you that has you mumbling his name, head falling to the side while your legs lock around his hip, keeping him going.
Junhui's hands on your body makes the pleasure spike, his palms sliding up your ribs, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts before cupping them gently, thumbs flicking over your nipples. You arch into his touch, moaning brokenly, overwhelmed by the feeling of both of them, their skin warm and scents tangled.
Long gone is the ache in your stomach, replaced only by swelling heat and pressure. Long gone is the too-tight skin and the feverish need to be touched, replaced by Junhui's hands and his warm mouth closing around a nipple, sucking and flicking with his tongue until you're nearly sobbing, hands tangling in his damp hair.
"So pretty," he mumbles against your chest. "Look at you taking Joshua so well. Does it feel good, baby? Does he fill you up the way you need/"
"Yes," you whine. "Yes, yes, yes, yes."
Joshua's pace stays steady and unhurried, each thrust making you tighten around him. You can feel how wet you are, slick dripping down the curve of your ass as he picks up his pace a little, feeling the way your orgasm is building, knowing you need to reach it. He grinds into you at the end of each stroke, hitting it just right that your vision starts to blur.
Junhui kisses up your chest, along your throat, finding your mouth again. He kisses you like he has all the time in the world, tongue sliding against yours in a lazy rhythm that mirrors Joshua's strokes. Being between them is overwhelming - Junhui's mouth on yours, his hands on your skin, Joshua buried deep inside you, his hands gripping your waist.
"Shua." Joshua looks up, his hair sticking to his forehead as Junhui leans toward him. "Come here."
Joshua leans forward, still moving inside you, and Junhui catches him in a kiss. You watch through hazy eyes as they kiss above you, Junhui's hand cupping Joshua's jaw, guiding him. The sight of it makes you clench around Joshua and he moans into Junhui's mouth, making the alpha grin.
"She likes to watch," Junhui pants against Joshua's mouth. "Likes knowing how everyone belongs to one another." Junhui's hand slides down Joshua's chest to his hips where he squeezes. "Angle up. She needs it right here."
Joshua adjusts, his hands sliding under your thighs to lift them higher, and when he pushes in again the angle is devastating. He hits that spot inside you dead-on and you nearly scream, your whole body arching up off the bed.
"Dead on," Junhui says with a grin. He leans down again, his mouth finding your ear. "Feel that, baby? Feel how deep he is? He's going to take such good care of you. Going to fuck you slow and perfect until you come so hard."
"You're so wet," Joshua groans, his voice strained. "Fuck I don't know how to last."
"That's the heat," Junhui murmurs against your throat. "You can pick up pace. She's close. She's so good for you, yeah? Pretty little omega."
"Fuck yeah."
The praise makes you whimper, makes fresh slickness coat Joshua's cock in response, their approval making your body sing. Junhui kisses you again, deep and consuming, and you lose yourself in it until you feel Junhui's hands slide down between where Joshua fucks you, his fingers finding your clit. His touch is light, but combined with Joshua's relentless pace, it's enough to tilt you over.
Your orgasm hits you hard and you come with a strangled noise, body jerking upward as Junhui holds you down. Your hand clutch at Junhui's shoulders, nails digging into his skin and sliding down his arms. He doesn't mind, letting out a pleased sound as he and Joshua work you through your orgasm in tandem.
Joshua groans above you, his rhythm faltering as you clench around him. "Oh fuck- I can't-"
"Come for her," Junhui says softly, and it's permission and command all at once.
Joshua's hips stutter forward one more time, burying himself as deep as he can go, and then he's coming with a broken moan. You feel the pulse of him inside you, the warmth flooding your core, and it draws another aftershock from your own orgasm. His whole body trembles, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise, and the sounds he makes send you soaring, your omega preening at the way your beta loses control for you.
The three of you collapse together in a tangle of limbs and sweat-slick skin, Joshua slumping forward and catching himself on his forearms to avoid crushing you, his face buried in the crook of your neck. His breath comes in hot, ragged pants against your throat as Junhui shifts beside you, one arm sliding you to the side so Joshua can pull out and collapse next to you.
Joshua stays glued to your side, his legs tangled with yours as your joint fluids drip down your thigh. You ignore it, knowing Junhui will deal with it later like he's supposed to. For now, Junhui flops down next to you so you're pinned between them, and reaches over to run his hand down the back of Joshua's neck.
You turn your head to nuzzle into Junhui's chest, breathing him in, while Joshua presses soft kisses to your shoulder. Your heat has quieted to a low simmer, temporarily sated, and in its absence you feel the bone-deep exhaustion and the overwhelming desire to sleep right here between the two of them.
"You did good," Junhui tells Joshua, voice rough.
You feel Joshua's smile against your shoulder. "She's incredible. Both of you."
Turning to face him, you reach up to thread your fingers through his hair, tugging him down for a slow, sweet kiss. When you pull back, Junhui is watching you both with dark, intent eyes. Something shifts in the air - a change in the sharpness to his scent and face that makes your pulse quicken.
Junhui leans in, his hand sliding into your hair to angle your face toward him, and when he kisses you, it's deep and possessive, his tongue claiming as he pulls away with a sharp bite to your lower lip that makes you whimper.
