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don't look back
pairing: yandere!jungwon x reader
genre: backrooms au, thriller, psycho!jungwon
synopsis: while working late at the waterpark, you slip through reality and fall into the nightmare realm known as the backrooms. you think you’re alone—until you meet jungwon, a charming boy who offers comfort, survival tips, and the promise of an escape together. but something about him doesn’t feel right. the more time you spend together, the more his affection turns eerie... and the deeper you fall into his trap.
synopsis: you enter an abandoned mall looking for a thrill, but the deeper you explore, the more the walls start to twist and the exits begin to vanish. when you hear footsteps following close behind, you meet sunghoon—a boy who seems to know this place too well and who enjoys chasing you a little too much. the longer you run, the more you wonder if you’re escaping him… or being led exactly where he wants you.
warnings (MDNI 18+ only!!) : smut(mirror sex, oral sex (f. receiving), face-fucking / oral sex (m. receiving), unprotected rough sex, degradation, dirty talk, chase kink, choking, hair pulling, manhandling, size kink, overstimulation, everything is consensual), yandere themes, obsessive behavior, intense chase sequences, predator-prey dynamic, backrooms/liminal space horror, cursing, mean!evil!sunghoon, manipulation, stalking, supernatural(?) filming without consent, reader's hair is of length that can be braided and pulled
synopsis: a simple mistake puts you on the wrong train, but no matter how many stops you pass, the doors never open and the stations keep looping back. just when panic starts to settle in, you meet jay—a stranger who seems far too familiar and who claims you’ve been here before. he offers you comfort, a plan, and a reason to stay—but the more time you spend with him, the more you question if you ever really wanted to leave.
genre: liminal space au, enemies to (??), thriller
synopsis: you witness a brutal murder one night and run, only to get trapped in an abandoned parking garage that seems to stretch on forever. no matter how many stairwells you climb or elevators you take, every floor loops back the same. as you try to survive, you realise ni-ki—the dangerous and unpredictable killer—is always near, watching, waiting, his obsession growing with every step. the more you fight him, the closer he pulls you in, and the lines between fear, desire, and survival start to blur. escaping the garage may not save you from him.
warnings: evil!ni-ki, slight yandere behaviour, fighting, mentions of death, making out, biting, kissing with blood, mentions of blood, possessive behavior, toxic romance, forced proximity, backrooms/liminal space horror, ni-ki's lowkey a masochist, cursing
hey everyone 🤲 I’ve been trying a bunch of different meds prescribed to me and I feel like I’m finally approaching something of a stable state and I can’t wait to get back to writing regularly 🥲 I have this idea for a multi chapter fic inspired by Hongjoong’s look this comeback and I really want to get it out of my head and put it into words already 👀
omg hi yesss I’m alive and (almost) well, thank you for asking 🥹 I’ve been taking a break from writing since the end of December and literally only logged into this acc today and saw this message😭
pairing: prince!seonghwa x princess!reader x jester!hongjoong
tags/genre: royalty au, fantasy au, love triangle, forbidden love, unrequited love, angst, somebody's not getting a happy ending
word count: 8.3k words
synopsis: tale as old as time ... the princess wants what she cannot have. and she has a duty to fulfill, even if a certain jester aims to steal her away.
notes: i know y'all have seen those edits on tiktok too (knight who? we're team jester in this house FJLKDJSLKS). make sure you listen to golden brown while you read this! honorable mention if you listen to everything is romantic lol
towering oak doors part from one another, exposing you to the throne room and the prince that sits in his gilded chair at the far end. the guard declares your arrival, although you can barely hear it over the sound of your heart thundering against your ribcage. there he sits, perfectly poised and calculated as you expected.
“princess.”
“prince.”
you approach seonghwa with a curtsy, your dress billowing around you in clouds of ivory and gold. your attendants stand on either side of you, stone-faced with hands folded behind their backs. he smiles at you gently, a feeble attempt to quell your nerves as you blink up at him expectantly. there’s an unspoken understanding between the pair of you. neither of you wanted this, to be thrown into a political affair until death do you part. but, the moment your father fell ill, your kingdom was in danger and seonghwa’s was quick to step in with a solution.
he was a kind prince, at least from what you knew in passing over the years. painfully handsome, ever the gentleman and well-mannered. even so, you knew little of him personally. you had no idea what his interests were, his favorite color, his favorite dish. none of the things you’d hoped to have known before promising to marry a man. it becomes slightly intimidating holding seonghwa’s gaze under the weight of all that was to come.
you avert his eyes and glance around the sterile throne room, searching for any sign of life when the faint jingle of bells captures your attention.
your gaze falls on a marble column near the base of the throne, a figure stepping into view as though he had been waiting for that exact moment. he bows, his knee bent dangerously low and an arm flung behind him in exaggeration. a grin so broad you nearly see all of his teeth spreads across his painted face, his white-lined eyes crinkling with mischief. the bells on his wrists and cap chime merrily with every movement.
“forgive the late entrance,” he drawls, theatrics laced in every word it’s nearly charming. “i would have been here on time, but it’s hard not to be worked up when the future queen is waiting on you.”
seonghwa lets out a soft chuckle as his audacity, while you arch a brow in a mix of amusement and concern.
“princess,” seonghwa calls gently, reclaiming your attention, “this is hongjoong, my jester. he’s been a friend around the palace ever since we were boys, so you’ll have to pardon the most … unusual company i prefer to keep around. i offered him to serve as my knight, but—”
“well, that’s no fun, is it?” hongjoong interrupts with a wink as he sways on his heels. “besides, swords can be so heavy.”
seonghwa shakes his head with another laugh, unaware of the way hongjoong’s playful gaze remains on you. he tilts his head, cap sliding even more off-kilter in a way that makes him look even more delightfully foolish.
“princess,” he says, his tone dipping into something softer beyond the theatrics. “a pleasure.”
you bow your head politely, trying not to focus on the way his attention lingers on you.
you’re dismissed from the throne room after a long session of royal guidelines and political demands. seonghwa was summoned by his father to oversee plans for the guards stationed at the border, leaving you overwhelmed by your thoughts as you wander the halls. their castle was far different from yours, eerily quiet and perfect at every angle. you missed the chaos of your own halls, with staff running between wings and their laughter and conversation filling the halls. even the setting sun barely reflected against the glaring marble, despite the tall windows.
hongjoong appears by your side before you hear his footsteps—or rather, his bells.
“deep in thought, are we, princess?”
“do you always do that?” you ask, glancing at him from the corner of your eye as he matches your pace.
“do what?”
“appear out of thin air.”
“depends on the day,” he shrugs, a half-grin hanging from his lips. “figured you’d appreciate some company considering you were one lecture away from falling asleep in the throne room.”
“was it that obvious?” you gasp and turn to hongjoong in a panic. a startled laugh slips out of you as you cover your mouth.
“painfully.”
hongjoong leads you around the castle aimlessly, sharing stories of him and seonghwa and what the kingdom was like. he tells you which nobles to avoid having long conversations with–dreadfully boring, especially when you ask him about his wife–and what it was like spending time with the king–if you don’t look him directly in the eye, he’s not all that bad … just don’t mention his thinning hair.
“now, why would i tell the literal king that he’s balding?” you ask, utterly shocked by hongjoong’s observations. he laughs, the sound a welcome shift from the heavy silence that surrounds you.
“i don’t know how bold you plan to be while you hang around here.”
“that’s one way to put it,” you comment, your smile fading as you let out a slow exhale. “it’s all so sudden. having to adjust to a new life and be shaped into something that i’m not yet ready to be.”
your abrupt honesty surprises hongjoong, his own giddy smile slipping as he studies you. he notices the way you fiddle with your hands when you’re nervous, your eyes lowered to the floor. a long silence draws between you before hongjoong shifts, the humor gone from his voice.
“you don’t need to be anything other than what you already are.”
you meet his eyes, seeing him for a moment as the man beneath the garb. they’re a pretty shade of brown, similar to the leaves that turn in the fall. there’s a warmth in them that you didn’t expect to find in this kingdom. just as you’re about to reply, seonghwa rounds the corner and cuts you off.
“princess,” he greets, smiling at the pair of you. “hongjoong, i didn’t expect to find you here.”
“putting on a little show for our queen-to-be,” he hums, retreating back into his playful demeanor that’s nothing like that man you just spoke with. seonghwa arches an eyebrow but doesn’t question it, offering his hand to you so that he could guide you to your chambers.
he walks at a pace slower than necessary, as if it were his way of easing your nerves. his arm brushes against yours occasionally, a gentle attempt at showing you comfort. you smile up at him and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.
“you’ve had a long day, i imagine,” he comments. “i hope hongjoong didn’t overwhelm you. he can be … a bit much, at times.”
“he was helpful, actually.”
“oh?” seonghwa’s steps falter just slightly, but enough where you notice. he stops at the door to your chambers, bowing his head in farewell as the guard creaks the door open just slightly to guide you in. “i will see you tomorrow, princess.” he pauses for a moment, biting at his bottom lip before he bids his final farewell.
“i hope i can make your time here less … heavy on your heart.”
in your first several weeks at the castle, you’re placed through grueling lessons of kingdom etiquette that differs from your own and endless political briefings. there’s not nearly enough space in the journals you’d brought along to record everything, let alone in your mind to commit to memory. the court advisors tell you to recall every detail because of how necessary it was for your introductory ball with the prince to the kingdom.
oh, yes—the ball. picking out color schemes and linens and silverware for a fare you didn’t even feel particularly inclined to attend.
even in your hesitation, seonghwa attends your meetings to offer any help that he can. he holds doors open for you with that soft smile of his, offering gentle pointers and answering any of your hesitant questions with patience. he is undeniably princely, steady and protective in the way he cares for you.
hongjoong catches you during late nights in the library, reciting etiquette lessons to yourself. he observes you from afar for a moment, hidden behind the bookshelves as you sit cross-legged on one of the wide armchairs perched near the window. the faint scent of mint tea wafts from your direction, drawing him closer as the jingle of his bells startles you.
“spying on me, are we?” you tease, setting down the notes you were reviewing. hongjoong spins on his heel dramatically, arms outstretched as he settles into the chair across from you. he mimics your posture and rests his elbow on his leg, chin in hand.
“anything worth spying on?” he retorts, glancing down at your notes with narrowed eyes. “keep your right hand unoccupied for formal greetings. the royal must extend a hand for a handshake in greeting, but any other forms of physical contact are not appropriate unless initiated by the royal.”
hongjoong ponders for a moment before outstretching a hand to you. without thinking, you place your hand in his. he feels warm, even through the leather of his white glove.
“no!” he scolds, smacking the back of your hand lightly. “you were supposed to initiate. it says it right there.”
“oh, and smacking the hand of your future queen is polite?” you scoff, pulling your hand away from him with a failed attempt at hiding your amusement. “a warning would have been nice.”
“i’m not here for niceties,” hongjoong corrects, “i’m here for humor.”
“is that so?” you bite, not realizing that you’ve now mimicked his expression. “and what other kingdom do you know has a royal fool with such privilege?”
“well, firstly.” he clears his throat and adjusts his cap with an air of pride. “i’m not a fool, i’m a jester.”
“sure.”
“there is a difference,” he pouts and you can’t help but find it endearing. “you should include it somewhere in your notes.”
you turn to a fresh page in your journal, offering your quill and ink to him. he takes the book curiously, arching an eyebrow at you. “enlighten me, then.”
the days grow longer and the lessons grow more complex. you’re nearly brought to tears out of sheer frustration when one of the generals asks you to recite a detailed history of the kingdom’s war strategy. he’s harsh, no-nonsense as he towers over you and barks orders that you must review the information before meeting a particular sect of nobles at the ball in the coming weeks. it drives you into a defeated silence for the rest of the day, something that the two men hovering around you are quick to notice.
seonghwa appears at your door before breakfast one morning, much earlier than when your handmaids were sent to fetch you. he chuckles at the way you rub the sleep from your eyes and how you blink up at him, half-awake. he clears his throat and you notice he’s harboring a series of books and scrolls between his arms.
“general kim is … difficult, to say the least. but he only means to help.” he lifts his arms slightly to gesture to the stack of materials he’s holding. “i’ve compiled some of my old notes for your briefing this afternoon. if it’s helpful, we can go over everything together.”
you glance between him and the books, a soft smile of your own gracing your features. “thank you, prince. i’d like that.”
“of course,” he sighs, relieved at your acceptance. “and please, call me seonghwa.”
you can’t help but smile to yourself as you trail the gardens that afternoon, a successful lesson with general kim supplemented by seonghwa’s teaching earning you a much-needed break. you shuffle through your journal mindlessly, making note of seonghwa’s neat handwriting and how different it was from hongjoong’s scribbles on one of the earlier pages.
first of all, fools are stupid. i’m not stupid. jesters are known to be witty. we’re also known to be devilishly handsome.
“studying again?” hongjoong appears behind you while you’re reviewing his note. you don’t know what compels you to turn to another page hurriedly, but you do so anyway. he glances down at another part of your journal detailing a complicated set of formal greetings. “at this point, you’re more ready for war than you are a ball.”
“are you just here to mock me again?” you groan and shut the journal.
“maybe,” he admits, your scowl at him earning a grin in response. “or maybe you just look like you need a bit of comedic relief.”
he immediately goes into detailing his time spent with seonghwa and the king in the throne room earlier in the day when a handful of stuffy nobles visited. his story quells your nerves in an oddly comforting way and before you realize, you’re laughing again. not at the story, necessarily, but at the way he makes the castle feel a little more alive around you.
you don’t notice seonghwa entering from the back end of the gardens, pausing behind the hydrangeas when he sees you laughing with hongjoong. he doesn’t say anything, his smile growing tighter as he approaches you with a bow of his head. the warmth in your voice strikes something in him, hongjoong stepping back with an unreadable expression as the older man whisks you away for dinner.
in no time, the night before the engagement ball arrives.
you and seonghwa are seated across from the coordinators, each of them detailing every minute of the event to the pair of you with notes on linens, guests, first dances. their words grow muffled as you dissociate from the conversation, fiddling with the lacing in your corset and glancing around the room as if you could find some kind of escape. seonghwa notices your discomfort and takes the opportunity to rest his hand on yours beneath the table.
his touch is comforting, albeit fleeting. he taps against your knuckles reassuringly, glancing at you from the corner of his eye to remind you that he was there. you sigh and bow your head in thanks as you struggle to focus on the instructions from the coordinator on your entrance.
you don’t know what compels you to think about hongjoong at a time like this. the way he never fails to make you laugh—granted, it was his role—or to ease your frustrations when he caught you in your moments alone. it was as though he had a sixth sense for your spiraling thoughts and how he could slip out of his jester’s role to comfort you. the guilt gnaws at your innards under seonghwa’s touch for thinking about his right-hand man, but you remind yourself that you’re only bound to the prince out of duty.
like clockwork, seonghwa is whisked away from the meeting straight into another. you leave the throne room, your head pounding and your breath shallow. you can barely make it halfway down the corridor before you hear it.
the soft, distant sound of bells.
“princess.”
you try to deny the way your heart skips a beat as you turn to hongjoong, his eyes narrowed through jester’s face paint as he studies you. it was as if the joke he were about to make dissolved right on his tongue in exchange for a strange kind of concern. he leans against a nearby pillar, arms crossed with his cap slightly askew.
“are you alright?”
“i’m fine,” you insist, your voice clipped and quick to capture his attention.
“sure,” he scoffs, glancing around you before he wraps a hand around your wrist and guides you down the hall.
he gives you no chance to protest, leading you down to a narrow servants’ hall that was seemingly empty. it was your first time seeing another side to the castle, away from the polished marble and sterile guards that lined the corridors. the pathway is isolated, winding deeper into the castle until it spits you out onto an aged terrace that overlooks the back gardens. it was beautiful, the first thing in this castle that reminded you of home.
you have no time to admire its beauty when you turn to hongjoong with a huff, arms crossed over your torso. “you realize it’s highly inappropriate to whisk away the prince’s bride-to-be.”
hongjoong scoffs, eyes fixated on the garden beneath you as he cranes his neck from side to side. “is it so inappropriate if the queen-to-be looked like she was about to pass away in the middle of the corridor?”
“i wasn’t—”
“ah, ah, ah,” he interrupts, waving a finger in front of you dramatically. you swat his hand away with a roll of your eyes. “don’t try lying. you’re terrible at it.”
“i just … needed a moment.”
“and i provided one.” hongjoong extends his arms, a broad grin gracing his features.
“technically, you dragged me here.”
“i’d like to say i escorted you,” he corrects you, his smile still wide. “with charm and grace, actually.”
you huff in defeat, turning to the gardens to admire the aged stone and moss that surrounds the flowerbeds. it feels lived in, unlike the rest of the castle. it feels … safe.
hongjoong watches your face soften, worry melting away as his own expression shifts. he doesn’t jest, staring at each of your features with a quiet focus. every move you make commands his attention, from the way you brush your hair back to the way your eyes trail over every flower below.
“you’re taking on a lot,” he points out, as if you were unaware. his voice startles you from how gently he speaks.
“i don’t have a choice.”
“there’s always a choice,” hongjoong replies, tilting his head just enough so that there’s a soft chime from his bells. “maybe not about the outcome, but at least ensuring you don’t drive yourself mad before you make it there.”
you turn to him, surprised as ever by the way he’s able to slip out of his court-ordered facade to entertain the royals. the way he so carefully gives you advice never fails to tug at your heartstrings, feeding into a newfound worry of finding solace in a man you’d never be allowed to love.
love?
no, you couldn’t possibly love him.
“why do you care so much?” you challenge, stealing a glance at him.
“why wouldn’t i?”
“you barely know me.”
“i know enough.”
you fully face him, studying each of his features in the way that you’ve seen him do to you over the last several weeks. the way his hair falls over his forehead, the way his brows furrow when he’s being serious, the way his throat moves when he swallows. he steps closer, your mind cloudy as you swear you can identify every shade of brown in his eyes.
“i know you’re trying too hard to carry something forced onto you. i know you hate asking for help. i know you’d rather lock yourself away in the library for twelve hours than admit that you’re overwhelmed. i know that you wish that this castle weren’t so lifeless.”
your breath falters at his outburst. he seems unshaken, holding your gaze steadily as you struggle to read his. you curse yourself at the way your heart thunders against your ribcage at the sight of him, clad in his face paint and bells as he danced and made merriment on command. the only person in the entire castle that looked at you as though you were more than just a political chess piece.
and you were the only one that looked at him as if he were more than a royal fool.
“i–”
“there you are, princess.”
seonghwa appears in the archway, slightly winded from rushing through the abandoned halls. you don’t question how he’s found you, knowing fully well that the walls have eyes in any castle. you straighten instinctively as relief washes over his features.
“are you alright?”
“yes,” you reply quickly, bowing your head with an apologetic smile. “apologies if i worried you.”
“no need,” he reassures you quickly, stepping into view as he closes the distance between you. “i just thought something might have been wrong with how abruptly you left the meeting.”
hongjoong interjects before you can reassure him, his tone whimsical as ever. “fear not, your highness. i rescued her.”
seonghwa chuckles, naïve as ever as he tilts his head in question. waves of raven hair fall over his eyebrows. “rescued her from what, exactly?”
“the impending doom of another coordinator explaining the importance of matching napkin rings.” hongjoong rolls his eyes in mock exasperation, pressing a hand to his temple. seonghwa laughs under his breath.
“fair point.” he turns his back to hongjoong, his voice dropping when he looks at you. “still … if you’re overwhelmed, don’t hesitate to tell me. you don’t have to slip away alone.”
you can practically feel the way hongjoong tenses at seonghwa’s reassurance, forcing a smile onto your face as you nod. “of course. i’m alright now.”
he offers his arm to you, guiding you away from the faint sound of bells.
“i meant what i said.”
“hm?” you don’t realize until know you’ve been walking in silence beside seonghwa, your arm nestled in his as he strolls back into the main corridor with you. his expression is slightly nervous, though a smile remains fixated on his handsome features.
“about telling me when you’re overwhelmed.” seonghwa pauses for a moment, his eyes searching your face before he continues. “i don’t … i don’t want you to just think of this union as just duty. i want you to be happy here, no matter what you might need from me.”
you can feel the knots twist and turn in your stomach, guilt creeping beneath your skin as your mind remains on the man left behind on the terrace.
the low hum of conversation fills the dining room that evening under vaulted ceilings and curtains drawn shut. the staff move around you quietly, refilling glasses of wine and ensuring that empty dishes are whisked away. you sit stiff beside seonghwa, not making out much of his conversation with the king at the table head. something about food shortages in the northern villages.
hongjoong sits across from you, his cap set aside and tousled black waves falling over his face as he eats. you refuse to look at him directly, as if that would reaffirm the way you’ve been with him behind the prince’s back. there’s just a faint hint of paint left on his face, smudged around his eyes and at the corners of his lips. he hasn’t said a single word since you’d all sat down for dinner.
“we’ll need to clear the roads as soon as possible to have food brought in,” seonghwa confirms with his father and you try your absolute best to pay attention. even so, every sound in the room tears your attention away from the conversation and back into your inner turmoil.
just once, you allow yourself to look at hongjoong properly. he’s just as stiff as you, poking absently at the food on his plate. even with the staff preparing his favorite stew, he could care less as his mind wanders. he only glances up when the king makes a joke that causes the other two men to erupt in a fit of laughter, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.
his gaze drifts, landing on you. a quiet gasp slips out of you when he looks away first, stone-faced.
“are you alright?” seonghwa asks under his breath, leaning closer so that only you could hear. his hand brushes your wrist under the table gently, similar to his attempt to comfort you earlier in the day. hongjoong tenses from across the table and you try to ignore it.
“i’m fine,” you reply, shaking your head.
“and princess,” the king interjects, shifting the conversation to you. “how are you feeling about the ball tomorrow? have you approved of the ceremony plans?”
you’re left with little time to think of a reply when hongjoong interrupts, his first time speaking since entering the dining room. his voice is theatrical, as fanciful as the day you’d first met him.
“she approved everything except the napkin rings, your majesty,” he points out, earning a chuckle from the other two men. “claims it clashed with her complexion, i believe.”
“sounds like we’ll be changing out the napkin rings,” the king laughs, the sound hearty as him and seonghwa look at you with a kind of admiration in their eyes. one that you didn’t deserve, not if they knew what your thoughts looked like.
hongjoong’s smile barely reaches his eyes as he bows his head at you, seemingly pleased by the scowl you feel on your face. “only the best for the bride-to-be.”
as he slips back into silence, you stare at him and realize that this is the role he was expected to play in the court. intermittent entertainment, to crack a joke and then wither away. they didn’t allow him the chance to speak, really speak and let his mask fall.
the evening ends too slowly and too quickly all at once.
by the time you’re guided by the handmaidens back to your chambers, your chest feels tighter beneath the confines of your corset. you barely register when you bid your goodbyes to the king and to seonghwa, or the way you slipped away from dinner. all you remember is slumping onto the tiled floor of your terrace with your knees hugged to your chest, nightgown billowing around your ankles as loud sobs rack your body.
your breath doesn’t fully fill your chest as you tremble, your mind racing from the pressure of everything that has played out since you’d set foot in this castle. seonghwa’s kindness, the king’s expectations with the fate of your father hanging in the distance. the way the advisors prodded and pried at you so that they could mold you into the perfect princess for their people when you’d been to their kingdom maybe twice in your entire life before this.
the jester who had no right to occupy your thoughts, but found his way.
you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to steady your breathing as the terrace feels too small around you. everything around you is muffled and too loud all at once.
“princess?”
the faint sound of someone calling out to you tethers you to the terrace. you ignore them, covering your face with your hands to stifle the sobs that slip out of you.
“princess.”
there’s more urgency in their voice this time and you force yourself to look up, glancing through the pillars at the gardens below. hongjoong stands beneath you, shielded by shadows under the moonlight as he narrows his eyes at you. you barely register that he’s no longer in his jester garb, his face bare and his clothes much more similar now to seonghwa’s traditional attire.
he hadn’t been looking for you but he found you, anyway.
“i—” he pauses for a moment, noticing the way your body trembles and you refuse to respond to him. without another word, he hurries into the castle and you hear a hushed exchange with the guard standing watch outside of your chamber. not a moment later, he shoves through the towering oak doors and approaches you with slow, steady steps.
“look at me.” his voice is gentle.
you shake your head, focused on the sensation of your chest tightening and the way your hands tingle from the nerves that prick at your skin. “i—i can’t—i can’t breathe, i—”
“hey,” he urges, settling onto his haunches in front of you. “you’re alright. princess, look at me.”
you finally do. hongjoong brushes hair away from your face, resting his hands on your arms with a firm grip. his presence is quiet, but it commands your attention away from the way your breathing is so painfully shallow.
“good,” he whispers, squeezing your shoulders gently. “now, breathe with me.”
you follow his instructions obediently, ignoring the thought of your lungs fighting against you to swallow down deep breaths. he slows you, guiding you with steady breaths of his own. seconds bleed into minutes, your body finally returning to itself as you slump against the terrace pillars with a defeated sigh. hongjoong doesn’t leave your side, eyes locked on you as he monitors every move you make.
“do you feel better?” you nod once, afraid for your voice to be so small you don’t recognize it as your own. color flushes your cheeks in embarrassment as you avert hongjoong’s gaze. “you frightened me.”
“why would you be frightened?” you ask, caught in a dry laugh. he blinks at you, aware of the shame you felt under his watch.
“because i care.”
“you’re not supposed to,” you scold. “i—i’m not supposed to.”
the weight of your confession hangs heavy in the night air. you swallow hard, your heart still hammering beneath the confines of your chest. there’s a part of you screaming to send hongjoong away, that knew this was wildly inappropriate. but there’s another part that you’ve fought to keep hidden, desperate to lean into him and the comfort he offers. hongjoong doesn’t say anything at first, watching over you in silence. he tilts his head, a faint smile gracing his features.
“you’re allowed to feel,” he reassures you, “even if they want to tell you that you can’t.”
his hand snakes back up from your shoulder to your cheek to brush a strand of hair away. he lets his fingers linger a moment too long, warm against your skin and causing your breath to hitch. your fingers reach for his wrist, clutching onto him like an anchor. you can feel the desperation in his touch, the way his body leans into you instinctively.
when your lips finally meet, the weight of stolen glances and rising tension crashes over you. hongjoong cups your jaw as his other hand snakes around your waist to pull you closer. his mouth moves against yours, soft gasps escaping you under the press of his body against yours. the taste of him makes your head spin, a different kind of dizzy from the panic that consumed you just moments earlier.
he pulls away just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his chest heaving from fighting to catch his own breath. you lean back to look at him, a silent acknowledgement of what you’d just done.
“well, that was fun,” he comments under his breath, a lopsided grin hanging from his face. despite you wanting to toss him over the edge of the terrace for making light of the situation, it felt unbearably good to lean into the desire you denied yourself of for so long. his eyes search yours, dark and intense even under the moonlight.
“i should go,” he says reluctantly, brushing his thumb over your jaw one last time. “you need rest. you also have a ball to survive tomorrow.”
as much as you want to protest and have him stay, you recognize that he needed to leave. he gives you a knowing smile, shoving himself off of the ground to offer you a final bow before he slips out of your chambers undetected. you’re left alone once more, the night suddenly too quiet and too empty without him.
handmaidens scurry around you from the moment you wake the next morning until you’re called to dress for the ball. they fuss with your hair and the lacing on your corset, one of them even offering to recite notes from your journal so that you’d be able to refresh your memory. you’re sure you didn’t have so much as a glass of water with all of the commotion.
you catch your reflection in the mirror, eyes lined with kohl and loose waves falling around your face. the crown of your own kingdom sits atop your head, coaxing a pitiful smile out of you. your mind flickers back to hongjoong and the way his skin felt on yours and the taste of his lips.
a soft knock at the door draws you from your thoughts.
the handmaidens guide you away from your dressing table, declaring you ready as you smooth over the front of your dress. with a slow exhale, you welcome seonghwa into your chambers. he looks absolutely stunning, clad in all-black with his own crown fixated in place. your ivory gown is the picture of purity beside him, ready to prove to the kingdom that you were the right choice for their queen-to-be.
“you look …” seonghwa trails off, lost in admiration as his eyes trail over you. a smile graces your features, a feeble attempt to mask your nerves as you curtsy before him. “you’re beautiful.”
“likewise, prince,” you compliment, taking his arm and following him out into the corridor. his arm is steady against yours, quietly reassuring as you make your way through the wing. the faint swell of music from the ballroom echoes against marble, offering some life to the otherwise sterile halls. you try to focus on the sound of your steps, chastising yourself for the way your mind latched onto any remnants of last night with hongjoong.
“you don’t need to be nervous,” seonghwa murmurs to you, resting his hand over yours. “it’s just one night.”
one night that determines the rest of your lives.
you nod, finally able to steady your racing heart as years of court etiquette wash over you. it’s the first time in weeks you remind yourself of your role as princess of your own kingdom, not just merchandise for these nobles to survey. you let seonghwa’s hand linger longer than necessary, grateful for the warmth.
the swell of music grows louder as you approach the ballroom doors, candlelight flickering through stained glass windows that give little away from the festivities inside.
“shall we?” he asks, nodding once to the guard as you straighten beside him with your head held high.
the guard announces your arrival and you step into the festivities, struck by how beautiful the ballroom had come together—even the napkin rings. the scent of perfume mingled with fresh flowers washes over you. nobles stand at attention in every corner of the room, some whispering to one another while others comment on how beautiful you looked beside the prince.
for once, you allow yourself to fully exist in the moment. arm in arm with seonghwa, guided down the winding staircase into the belly of the beast. you feel safe beside him, reminded of your strength as a royal and the weight that it carried. their eyes remain fixated on you as the candlelight dims, centered on the pair of you as the string performers begin their tune.
seonghwa offers his hand to you and you curtsy in return, allowing him to pull you into a dance. his presence is comforting, the way his hand rests on the small of your back as he twirls you around and whispers praises under his breath. you grin up at him, the tension tightening your muscles slowly releasing as you find yourself actually enjoying the moment.
and then, you see him.
there he sits, at the foot of the king’s throne with one leg crossed lazily over the other. clad in his jester’s garb and jewels, such an opulent fool. your chest tightens at the sight of him. even from across the room, he seizes your attention inescapably. the faint chime of his bells beneath the strings that play, the way he leans into his chair with his head tilted against its back. a mischievous glint twinkles in his eyes that you can’t ignore.
seonghwa notices the way your demeanor shifts and squeezes your hand gently, grounding you in the dance as he twirls you into another direction. he leans in just enough so that his lips brush the shell of your ear.
“focus on me. you’re doing wonderful.”
you nod, forcing the smile back onto your face when your gaze flickers back to hongjoong. the music swells as his eyes meet yours, his lips curling into a grin when he realizes you’ve been staring at him. it shakes him from his boredom, spurring him to lean into his performance. your breath hitches and you turn away before a shiver runs down your spine at the thought of last night’s stolen touch.
the pair of you are pulled apart almost immediately after your first dance, nobles swarming you with questions of your own kingdom and of your relations with their dear prince. you answer politely, half-listening as you intentionally steer your gaze away from hongjoong every time you’re tempted to look. you can feel his eyes on you. the way that the night with him hung heavy over your head.
“if i may excuse myself,” you interject, unsure of who was speaking at the moment. seonghwa glances at you and you notice the concern that flickers across his eyes. even so, his expression remains unfazed.
“she must be overwhelmed,” one of the nobles remarks with pity, as if you were simply a nervous little wreck.
you ignore every one of them, scaling the staircase that leads out of the ballroom and into the manicured central gardens. the gentle rush of fountains capture your attention, drawing you deeper into the hedges and away from the crowd. the scent of melting wax follows you from the dimly lit lamps that line the stone walls. the further you venture, the louder your thoughts become.
when you believe you’re out of sight, you press your hands over your face with a low groan. a sharp stab of guilt twists low in your stomach, coupled with the ache of you longing to approach hongjoong. you repeat under your breath that you’re promised to seonghwa, that you should be thinking about him. he was kind and patient with you.
you shouldn’t be thinking about the taste of the jester’s lips on yours. or the way he’s able to ground you in the most familiar version of yourself, full of love and laughter that you were robbed of the minute you set foot in this castle as a political pawn. with a shaky breath, you sigh and look up at the star-filled sky.
the sound of footsteps on gravel steals your attention and your heart jumps, only a moment before you realize the familiar jingle of bells didn’t accompany it as a familiar silhouette emerges.
seonghwa.
not hongjoong.
the disappointment that strikes you is shameful, sickening. you look away from him before it becomes evident on your face. seonghwa approaches you with slow, measured steps until he’s standing mere inches from you. his presence is somehow warm and suffocating all at once.
“i didn’t mean to intrude if you needed a moment,” he murmurs, hands folded behind his back as if he were restraining himself from holding you. “you just left so quickly. i worried.”
“just a moment,” you affirm.
“of course.” he nods once. “tonight has been … well, a lot.”
“that’s an understatement.”
he laughs, really laughs and the sound tugs at your heartstrings. for the first time, you look at seonghwa as more than the man you were promised to. more than the guilt you felt for your late-night rendezvous with hongjoong. he offers a hand to you tentatively, his smile growing wider when you take it and allow him to pull you just an inch closer.
so polite.
“i don’t just show concern for you out of pity,” he says softly.
“i—” you pause, letting out a long exhale. “i know, i’m sorry. it’s been quite an adjustment.”
seonghwa squeezes your hand gently, looking down at you through dark lashes. “you don’t owe me apologies. just honesty. and time.”
your throat tightens as rising suspicions swarm your mind.
did he know about hongjoong? surely, he wasn’t stupid. no, he would have said something by now. but what good would it do?
before you can reply, distant laughter carries on the wind from the ballroom and you swear you can hear the chime of bells along with it. seonghwa notices the way you tense, looking back towards the noise with an unreadable expression.
“come,” he sighs, not looking at you. “it seems as though the entertainment is about to begin.”
hushed whispers rise as the guards dim the sconces that line the walls. only the chandelier that hangs from the vaulted ceiling dances across the ballroom, providing what little light was left. you were seated beside seonghwa, a stone’s throw away from the king’s elevated throne. you finally allow yourself a sip of wine, willing your heart to be still as hongjoong approaches the center.
he bows before the court, with a smile you instantly recognize as a weak attempt to seem merry. it barely reaches his eyes. he ignores you entirely, as if he weren’t giddy with himself for realizing you’d been sneaking glances at him all night.
“my sovereigns,” he begins, bowing his head before the king and seonghwa for their permission. the king nods once, coaxing hongjoong to turn on his heel with outstretched arms to the circling crowd. “honored guests. if you’ll allow it, tonight i bring you a story.”
“the tale of a jester, destined to live in the shadows while others bask in the sun.” the nobles hum in approval, ears perked for more. “of his curse to yearn for what he cannot have.”
while everyone is consumed by his theatrics, you still. surely he couldn’t mean—
hongjoong paces in a slow circle, bells chiming softly as the sound follows him. “our jester was a pitiful creature. able to make the most stern lord laugh, but pathetic all the same.” he feigns a dramatic sadness, earning a chuckle that ripples through the crowd. “he truly was a fool, for he dared to long for a princess.”
you still.
“oh, he surely knew better. jesters do not fall in love. that would be a joke in and of itself, no?” he twirls once, conviction rising in his voice. “but fate is a jester, too, is she not? one that we cannot deny.”
seonghwa stiffens beside you, although you can’t deduce anything from the glimpse you steal at his expression.
“and the princess,” hongjoong continues, hands clasped over his chest with a drunken sigh. “radiant and kind. a blossom in an otherwise desolate garden. how could someone so regal care for a fool? she was promised to a man made of marble and moonlight. in other words …” he trails off and leans into a deep bow in seonghwa’s direction. it was no coincidence. “… a prince.”
the room suddenly feels too warm, your corset suffocating. seonghwa is stoic beside you, his hands frozen on the armrests.
“and so our jester remains in the dark, but who might he tell? he has a role to play. smiling, laughing, the picture of merriment. dancing at the whim of the court. what else can a fool do, but pretend he never loved her at all?”
hongjoong rounds the room one last time, contorting into a routine of languid twirls and stretches. the nobles are hooked on his every word, eyes wide and mouths slightly agape at his talented storytelling. it was as if he were the heartbroken jester he told the stories of. he comes to rest on a knee before you and seonghwa, a hand clasped over his heart as he meets seonghwa’s steely gaze.
“and so, your highness,” he hums, the lilt in his voice all too fabricated. “i concede.”
the crowd’s applause is still echoing in your ears as everyone finally begins to slip away for the evening. you don’t remember your final words, who you smiled at. all you can do is replay the way hongjoong wouldn’t look at you as he accepted the praise, how seonghwa’s jaw tensed beside you.
by the time you’re away from the ballroom and the visitors’ wing, you heave a sigh and lean against one of the towering marble pillars. you finally allow yourself a moment to breathe in the silence, away from any more questions or any more thoughts of seonghwa or hongjoong.
the faint jingle of bells quickly dissolves that effort.
“enjoy the show?”
“that wasn’t a show,” you scoff, turning on your heel to meet hongjoong’s eyes. “that was you making a scene.”
“well, i thought it was one of my more entertaining stories,” he grumbles, though you can tell he’s making a concerted effort to conceal his hurt.
“it doesn’t matter what you do, hongjoong.” your voice is harsher than it’s even been when you speak to him. “i can’t love you. i’m promised to seonghwa. that’s all there is to it.”
he laughs, the sound bitter and jagged. “your excuse is duty over heart?”
“should i forsake my kingdom and my people simply because i feel the way i feel?” you cry out, exasperated by his attempt to simplify the situation.
“and how is it that you feel?” hongjoong counters, caging you against the pillar as he towers over you. his eyes were wild with desperation, his pupils blown beneath the face paint. “how did last night make you feel? how has any time you’ve looked at me made you feel?”
“it doesn’t matter!” you repeat, nearly a shout as tears brim along your waterline.
“and what about how i feel?” hongjoong asks, his voice dropping to a cracked whisper. “does that not matter?”
“i—” you stop yourself, knowing fully well an explicit confession was political suicide. he backs away from you just enough to catch his breath. the hurt etched across his face is too much to acknowledge, especially the way it churns a deep guilt in the pit of your stomach. not just for seonghwa, but for the way hongjoong had become strung along.
“i’d greater respect you being honest if you’re using me as a distraction from your duties before you marry our the prince,” he sneers. “but the fact that you’re trying to deny yourself of how you actually feel for me is even more insulting.”
“i’m doing it because i have to,” you scold hoarsely, “not because i want to.”
hongjoong stills, more eerily than you’d even seen from him. he resembles a portrait, unmoving and stoic. his dark hair falls in tousled waves around his face, his pretty brown eyes piercing. the air around you is suffocating, even in such an empty corridor. it pains you to see this version of hongjoong and not the one that skipped beside you, making jokes and risking touches.
“then … then this is done.” hongjoong shakes his head, the fire in his eyes extinguished and replaced with something more akin to stone. “focus on your duties and i’ll focus on mending my foolish heart.”
“hongjoong,” you plead, but he ignores you and storms down the hall to the artisans’ chambers. one of your handmaidens emerges from the dark halls and you couldn’t be bothered if she were a witness to your fallout with hongjoong. she reaches gently for your shoulders, guiding you towards your room to retire for the evening. the shock consumes you, keeping you silent as she readies you for bed and slips out of the room.
you’re not sure how many tears are left in you as you curl into the linen sheets, fists clenched as you let out every last bit of anger at the world. it might have even been easier to give in to your feelings for hongjoong if seonghwa were a terrible, cruel prince, or if your father were simply sending you off to be wed because of court politics. no, your circumstances were demanding and you were acting irresponsibly. selfishly.
something possesses you to leave your room that night.
you’d had enough of the sobbing alone. of the lamenting what you could not have, of letting your heart rule your mind. it was unbecoming of a princess, of a queen-to-be. every step you take through the isolated corridors takes you further away from the image of hongjoong standing before you, broken and desperate for you to love him back. the hurt stabs you and twists like a knife, but you continue telling yourself that it was worth it as your steps quicken.
you stop at the towering gilded doors with a raised fist, ready to knock.
before your knuckles could collide with oak, the door creaks open slightly and he peers out at you in question. the sight of him finally breaks you, allowing your face to crumple back into a twisted string of sobs. your shoulders tremble as you shake your head, angry with yourself for not coming up with a more formal apology before bursting into tears.
“hey, hey,” seonghwa guides you by the small of your back into his chambers, shutting the door behind him. “it’s alright.”
you didn’t love seonghwa, that much was true. but you could learn to love him.
epilogue
“and do you, princess, take his highness to be your lawfully wedded husband, so long as you both shall live and until death do you part?”
seonghwa holds your gaze, his expression softening as he brushes a thumb against your knuckles. the crowd watches with bated breath, the officiant staring between you expectantly. your smile is twin to seonghwa’s, a gentle understanding of your arrangement and all that was to come.
for the briefest moment, your gaze flickers just past him and you catch a glimmer of gold bells under the light filtering through the stained-glass windows. you take one final, longing look into those pretty brown eyes, the tears that make them glisten more than usual and twinkle in such a pitiful way.
pairing: undercover cop!hongjoong x street racer!reader
tags/genre: fast & furious au, smut with plot, sexual tension, forbidden attraction, hate sex, unexpected enemies to lovers, dirty talk
word count: 9.1k words
synopsis: with the rise of street racing in the city, hongjoong's been assigned by his unit to crack down on the drivers. when he meets you, he realizes there might actually be more to the street racing scene than meets the eye—not that he'll ever mention to you that he's a cop ... right?
notes: 18+ content (mdni). this fic is linked back into the broader fast & furious!teez au!
the low purr of your black subaru brz echoes off of the concrete pillars as you pull into the abandoned industrial complex, tires crunching softly over loose gravel and asphalt. bass thumped against the walls, cars lines up along the main entrance as the meet started getting more crowded. you inhale deeply, the familiar scent of gasoline and the faint flowers from your air freshener mingle in your senses.
pulling into your usual spot beside yunho’s audi, you step out, boots hitting the ground as you whistle to capture his and mingi’s attention. the duo turns to you, matching your grin and immediately reaching for the bottle of tequila they had set on the roof of mingi’s skyline.
“took you long enough,” mingi scolds, offering you the bottle that you graciously accept with a chuckle. you tilt your head back, bitter liquor stinging your throat as you release a satisfied sigh. yunho squeezes your waist in greeting and you smile up at him, glancing over at their cars with enhanced scrutiny.
“god forbid a girl takes a little extra time making sure she looks nice,” you retort, propping yourself onto the hood of yunho’s car. they scoff, mingi looking out at the growing crowd before turning back to you.
“you’ve been coming to these meets for how long, now? i haven’t seen you hook up with anyone yet.”
“are you waiting for your turn?” you tease, following his gaze over the other car owners and bite down on your bottom lip in thought. truthfully, you’d never found anyone particularly attractive since you’d been coming to the car meets. maybe yeosang, but lord knows he couldn’t take a hint and you couldn’t be bothered to try harder. besides, your heart was here for the racing and to look at car mods. it was addicting, tweaking and prodding your own subaru so that she’d run exactly how you commanded her to.
as if on cue, a car pulls in that you don’t quite recognize. a white nissan 400z, its engine roaring as it glides deeper into the garage demanding attention. you roll your eyes, not usually a fan of an excessively loud exhaust; it was obviously an attempt to overcompensate. the wheels slow to a stop in an isolated corner, one away from the organized crews that sat at the center where you were.
heads turn to the newcomer, gossiping under the music hammering against the walls as the stranger steps out. he’s handsome, with jet-black hair and a fit that matches it perfectly. he twirls his keys around his index finger as he walks along the main entrance, catching the eyes of everyone that he drifts past. you can hear him compliment a handful of drivers as he passes their cars, commenting on their paint jobs and fitments.
“400z?” you call out to him, bottle of tequila still in hand by its neck as you meet his eyes. there’s a fire behind them as he scans your face, trailing down to your outfit and the tequila cradled in your lap. he glances at his car, white paint flickering under neon lights as he nods and turns back to you.
“yeah. got her not long ago. heard from a friend this was a good place to show her off.”
you look over at the nissan, silently judging it as you bite down on your lips. it’s admittedly a nice car, but it wasn’t anything flashy to worry about beyond the excessively noisy exhaust.
“she’s cute.” you smile at him. “i’m a little more concerned about what’s under the hood.”
“see for yourself, then,” he offers, throwing his keys to you so that you can catch them in one hand. mingi and yunho chuckle behind you, enjoying the scene unfolding in front of them when you glare in an attempt to silence them. sliding off of yunho’s hood, you make sure your skirt’s not ridden up too much as you saunter to the stranger’s car and unlock it to pop the hood.
like clockwork, you become engrossed with the mechanics in his engine bay. your eyes scan the fuel injector, the intercooler piping, the braided hoses. it doesn’t seem to deviate much from the stock setup of a nissan 400z, raising your suspicions as to why he thought this was a nice enough car to bring out to a modded car meet. even so, you turn to him as he approaches, the scent of sea salt and sandalwood flooding your senses as he stops beside you to look into the engine bay.
“looks like she’s in need of a lot more work,” you comment, gesturing to the engine as you cross your arms over your chest. “how long have you had her?”
“about six weeks,” he admits, eyes flickering back into the garage. “which one’s yours?”
“the brz.” you gesture to the raven car sat beside mingi and yunho’s cars. “maybe when you get a little more work done on her, we can test her out?”
“why not now?” he asks, his voice dipping lower as he arches an eyebrow. you simply laugh, shaking your head.
“you’re in need of some serious upgrades. wouldn’t want to embarrass you at your first meet.”
“you think i can’t give you a run for your money?”
“i know you can’t.”
“confident,” he surrenders, leaning against his fender as he matches your stance. “got a name?”
you offer your name, also pointing out the other members of your crew where mingi and yunho were bickering over the skyline’s accessories. hongjoong grins, perfect teeth flashing at you and distracting you for a moment before you clear your throat.
“you?”
“hongjoong.”
“well, hongjoong.” you tap against his fender, motioning for him to follow you as you begin walking back to your car. he follows obediently, something that you can’t help but be attracted to as he matches your pace. “hope you like tequila.”
*
the next morning looks very different for you as you’re perched over your laptop, sat in the corner of your usual favorite café with a latte beside you. it’s been hours of you staring at the research you needed to document, your hand cramping from the amount of notes you’d been taking with everything seeming important. finals were around the corner and you were running a bit low on sleep given the amount of time you’d been spending at car meets and late nights working on mods.
not that you planned to stop, of course.
you’re fully engrossed in social stratification trends analyses when a familiar voice interjects at the counter ordering an iced americano. you look up and meet hongjoong’s gaze, forcing him to do a double take as a suspicious smile graces his face. he looks as though he’s trying to make sure you’re really you, the same one that had his head tilted back and tequila poured down his throat the night prior. except now, you exchanged liquor for your latte and and the sweatshirt-sweatpants combo was a stark contrast.
“is this the same person from last night?” he asks, holding a hand over his eyes as if to see better. you roll your eyes, nudging your glasses higher up the bridge of your nose with your finger. he settles into the chair across from you, his own coffee in hand as he glances over the pile of work set before you. “couldn’t recognize you for a second.”
“did you expect me to study in a miniskirt?” you ask, gesturing to your laptop.
“fair point,” he concedes, his eyes flickering to the screen and the articles you were dissecting. “so, you’re in school?”
“grad school,” you answer, leaning back into your seat to take a sip of your coffee. “master’s in sociology.”
“beauty and brains,” hongjoong compliments, and you can’t help but blush. you roll your eyes again, this time with a smile as you set down your mug. “what got you into sociology?”
“i don’t know. i guess i’m just … curious why things are the way they are. why some people end up stuck in a situation and others aren’t.” you glance out the window, across the street where a homeless man sat beside a bench on the ground with scraps for food. “i just grew up seeing a lot of people go through that.”
hongjoong nods silently. he follows your gaze, observing the homeless man’s behavior as he sits against the brick-and-mortar of another storefront. suddenly, a patrol car pulls up, sirens wailing as it slows to a stop. a pair of officers step out, handcuffs at the ready on their waists as they circle over the homeless man. fear flickers across his face at the sight of the cops and your heart aches for a moment, wishing there was something you could do to help. you scowl as they lift him from the ground, ignoring his frightened protests and guiding him into the back of the cruiser.
you sigh, disgusted at the sight as you turn back to hongjoong. his eyes are still fixated on the cop car as it pulls off, his breathing steady as he seems lost deep in thought.
“man, fuck cops,” you grumble, looking back down at your work before changing the subject. “what about you? what do you do when you’re not trying to flaunt your barely-modded nissan?”
hongjoong perks up, shaking his head at your subtle dig. “um, i’m a security guard.”
“exciting.”
“hardly.”
not long after hongjoong’s left you, he’s sat at his usual spot in the conference room, iced americano still in hand as he waits for the chief to enter. as if on cue, the elder man steps in, followed by another pair of officers that find their own seats across from him. hongjoong sighs, leaning back into his seat as he awaits instruction.
“anything?” the chief asks, referring to hongjoong’s undercover assignment.
“there’s about fifty regulars,” he replies, pulling up the images he’d taken last night and sliding the phone over to the chief. “definitely a handful of modification violations. it doesn’t look like a lot of them get onto the streets beyond the southern stretch of highway going into the outskirts of town. it looks like most of their racing is in that abandoned complex.”
“hm,” is all the chief says, sliding through the photos carefully. he stops for a moment on the photo of your brz, silently scrutinizing as he continues through the others that show the interior of the abandoned parking garage.
“well, it’s good they’re not on the streets for the moment, but we need them out of the complex.” the chief turns to one of the officers that followed him in, gesturing for him to produce one of the files with more information on their assignment. “hyosung corporation is expecting that industrial park to be demolished for renovation in the next month. they need to be out of there by then.”
“so, we’re just going to run them into another part of town?” hongjoong asks, raising an eyebrow. “doesn’t that defeat the purpose of trying to curb street racing?”
“for now, hyosung’s concerns are our priority,” the chief orders, tapping on the tabletop pointedly. “and they expect our full cooperation.”
“wonder why,” hongjoong mutters, alluding to the grand sum of money that hyosung’s executive team had left behind at the police department in an effort to make their case. the chief’s jaw tightens, obviously not finding the humor in hongjoong’s comment.
“doesn’t matter,” the elder man commands, leaning back in his own seat. “your job isn’t to decide what’s morally right for the division. you just need to focus on getting the street dogs out of that complex. consider it a public safety issue.” he stands, ready to leave when he calls out to hongjoong over his shoulder. “by next week, i need names, plate numbers, and criminal records.”
hongjoong sighs, pulling up information on the nearest car garages that he could begin modding his car at for the next meet.
*
the familiar roar of hongjoong’s exhaust captures your attention as you perk up from the engine bay of your brz, the striking flash of white passing you by as he pulls into the spot beside you. wiping your palms against your thighs, his gaze finds yours immediately as he steps out of his car. there’s a mischief behind it, as if he already knows you were waiting to see him. he’s wearing an all-white fit this time, oversized and effortless with his raven hair pulled back from his face and sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose.
“miss me?” he teases, spinning his keys on one finger again out of habit as he flashes you a lopsided grin.
“bold assumption,” you scoff, stepping around your car. “figured you were just busy picking out cheap mods to pretend your car could go a little faster.” behind you, mingi lets out an exaggerated ‘ooooh’ and yunho chuckles, shaking his head as he leans against his audi.
hongjoong’s smile curls into something darker, more flirtatious as he looks at you over the edge of his sunglasses. “cheap? well, that’s a low blow.”
“i’m not here to stroke your ego,” you shrug, matching his grin playfully.
“tell you what, pretty girl,” he hums, the nickname catching you off guard as you feel your heart skip a beat. “let me take you out and you can tell me all about exactly what mods my car needs.”
your breath catches, knowing hongjoong was fully enjoying this little game you had going. it was nothing like the soft, gentle conversation you had in that corner of the cafe, sharing coffee and breaking past that hard, feline exterior. you scoff, hongjoong’s ears perking up at the sound.
“i don’t date guys i can beat in a race.”
that earns a laugh from him, low and rich as he leans in so that only you could hear him.
“i guess i’ve got something to prove then.”
within minutes, you’re parked at the center of the garage, the crowd lined up along the main entryway and the adrenaline creeping up and along your skin in anticipation. your brz hums under your touch, the engine ready to go as you adjust your mirrors. hongjoong is right beside you, doing the same in his nissan as he catches a glimpse of you staring at him.
“good luck,” you call out, your voice sickeningly sweet as you turn your attention to the flag girl that’s stepped up. she’s got her baby pink bra in hand, high over her head as hongjoong chuckles at you and readies himself. the crowd begins to roar excitedly, dull beneath the sound of your engines revving.
the bra drops, and you both take off with engines roaring and echoing off of the asphalt. your brz is lighter, tighter on the turns around abandoned scaffolding and concrete pillars as hongjoong fights to keep up with you. muscle memory takes over, your hand firm on the gear shift when you feel the g-force surge through your veins. your eyes flicker for a brief moment at your rearview mirror and you glimpse at hongjoong, one hand on the wheel and a lazy twitch of his lips when he catches your staring. you scoff, renewed focus on the stretch of road ahead as you shift gears and build speed.
you surge forward, distance growing between you and hongjoong as you throw the tires into a sharp turn and hook the edge of the road that leads back onto the highway. you can hear the screech of hongjoong’s tires behind you, fading away when you floor it and finish the straight shot into the garage. the crowd’s cheers blur into static behind the roar of your engine, slowing to a stop when the nissan finally pulls in beside you.
hongjoong glances over at you through his open window, tongue running along the inside of his cheek as he scoffs.
“well, damn,” he says, breathless as his smile grows wider, impressed. you shrug, stepping out of your car and throwing your hands above your head with a cheer. mingi jogs over, offering a celebratory shot as you dip your head back. you don’t notice the hunger that flickers across hongjoong’s face at the sight before he lifts himself out of his nissan.
“didn’t peg you for the flashy type,” he teases, leaning against the body of his car with his own drink in hand thanks to mingi.
“didn’t peg you for the type to lose so easily,” you tease, matching his stance.
“might need to lose more often if it means i get to watch you drive like that.” you refuse to admit you like the way he’s flirting with you, although you’re sure it must be evident on your face. glancing over at his nissan, you take a closer look at its exterior before joining hongjoong beside his car.
“well, you want to offer the winner a shot?” you coax, gesturing for mingi to hand you the bottle as you pass it onto him. hongjoong’s eyes darken, a knowing smile tugging at the edge of his lips as he lets out a soft laugh. “don’t be a sore loser, now.”
suddenly, hongjoong cages you against the side of the nissan, hovering over you slightly. he holds your gaze for a moment, the garage going silent as you recognize the look in his eyes. leaning over you so that you’re forced to arch back, he grabs your jaw and presses his fingers into your cheeks so that your mouth falls open. the tequila burns and warms your throat as he offers you the shot, fingers lingering on your face for just a second too long before he backs away. you swallow, flustered but far too proud to admit it.
“we should go check out wooyoung’s car,” yunho interjects, dragging mingi away with the bottle and leaving you to hongjoong on your own. he smirks and you shake your head, clearing your throat as you desperately find a way to change the subject.
“pop your hood,” you order, and he obliges. you round the fender, staring into the engine bay thoughtfully. you can feel hongjoong’s eyes still on you, observing your every move. you recognize a handful of new mods you hadn’t seen at the previous meet, although the work looks quite shoddy in comparison to what you’ve done at yeosang’s garage. you turn to him and put out your hand. “give me your phone.”
“taking me up on my offer for a date?” he chuckles, unlocking and placing his phone on your palm. you scoff, saving your number and handing it back to him.
“please. i just think you could get some good work done on her. my friend has a garage i usually go down to work on my car at. a lot of us go there.” you don’t notice the way hongjoong’s expression falters.
“most people go to your friend’s?” he asks.
“depends,” you reply with a shrug. “yeosang knows a guy. helps us out with certain mods you don’t usually see on the main market.”
“i see.” hongjoong’s gaze flickers across the garage before he looks at you. “how’s next weekend?”
*
you sip on the beer that yeosang had left behind in the garage fridge as you sit beside the wide open bay doors, staring off into the stretch of highway that winds through the hills. the sun is setting, painting the sky a hazy pink and orange that you can’t help but get lost in. only the familiar hum of a nissan’s engine pulls you from your thoughts. hongjoong steps out, keys dangling from his fingertips as he approaches you with a small wave. you can’t help but acknowledge how good he looks, clad in denim and leather.
“just you tonight?” he asks, leaning against the garage’s frame.
“just me,” you confirm, standing to meet his gaze. “figured it’d be better to get you out here while everyone is out at the meet.”
“all to yourself?” he teases, but you don’t ignore the way it sends a flutter through your chest at the thought. you roll your eyes, leading him deeper into the garage.
“i’m downloading new programming for my ecu right now,” you explain. “if you weren’t here, i’d probably just be studying.”
“ecu?” he asks and you arch an eyebrow at him.
“engine control unit?” you articulate. “pretty new to modding cars, aren’t ya?”
hongjoong laughs softly, rubbing at the back of his neck sheepishly. you watch as his eyes trail over the garage, taking in the parts stacked in various corners and the cars with their hoods popped that yeosang had been darting between over the last several weeks. he turns his attention to your subaru, to the laptop it’s connected to as he tries to make sense of the programming you had scheduled.
“are you sure you’re studying sociology and not actually a mastermind hacker?” he asks, only half-joking but you don’t pick up on it as you scoff and focus on the progress on the download. he asks you a few other questions, about the parts you’d tacked onto your car and the difference it makes in how it runs. you offer him a beer of his own as you take the final sips of yours, settling onto the workbench across from him.
“so, you spend most of your time out here when you’re not at a meet or studying?” he asks earnestly, taking a sip and propping up onto his elbow on a nearby toolbox.
“for the most part, yeah.”
“why?”
you bite down on your bottom lip in thought, slightly surprised by the question. “i like the idea of controlling something, i guess. making sure it can run exactly how i want it to. there’s a kind of thrill in that.”
“i get that,” he says quietly, more to himself than to you. “wanting to fix things.”
“in a way.”
hongjoong looks up again, something unreadable behind his eyes. he sets his beer aside, his gaze locked on yours as he speaks. “you ever worry about getting caught?”
“doing what?” you tilt your head.
“just, all this,” he asks, gesturing to the garage around you. “the racing, the mods. getting involved with the wrong people. it’s not exactly the safest scene to be a part of.”
“why would you say that?” you asks, your voice going cold as you sit up in suspicion. his expression gives nothing away, only raising his hands in surrender.
“just a thought,” he defends himself, and you try to relax despite the tension in your shoulders. “you seem smart. figure you’re careful, but you never know.”
the garage falls into an awkward silence, save for the hum of your engines. you look out at the now-darkened sky, trying to shake the nerves from your skin as you chug down the rest of your beer. he couldn’t have meant anything by it, he must have just been genuinely curious.
… right?
“hey, don’t take it so seriously,” he assures you, reaching over and nudging your shoulder gently. “i don’t doubt you. not after the way you smoked me in the race last weekend.”
that gets a smile out of you, one that urges you out of your seat and towards his nissan. “which reminds me. isn’t that why you’re here in the first place?” he follows closely after you, watching as you pop the hood and gesture for him to come over. the warmth of his body hovers behind yours as he leans over the engine bay, his arms on either side of you. you can feel the way that your heart races knowing he was so close, but you try to shake it off as you observe the machine beneath you.
“so, it looks like you need to work on your air and fuel ratios …” you trail off into a detailed explanation of hongjoong’s car and what needed work, going well over his head as he finds himself preoccupied with staring at you from the corner of his eye. you keep talking, something about his torque while his grip tightens on the edge of his engine bay. you notice the way his fingers tense, glancing over at him and finding him already looking at you.
“are you even listening?” you murmur, eyes meeting his as you try to quiet the thundering in your ears from your pulse racing. a half-smile hangs on your face as you turn slightly.
“trying,” he replies, his voice low. “you’re just a little distracting.”
as cheesy as it is, you can’t help but turn to face him fully with an inviting smile. he mirrors your gaze, hands sliding off of the car and onto your waist instinctively. you shudder under his touch, his eyes darting between yours and your lips as you swallow in anticipation. his fingers tighten as he tries to decide if he should back off or not, but he doesn’t. you lean in a little to test him, your breath mingling with his.
“you wanna do something about it, then?”
the invitation was all he needed to close the distance in a hungry kiss, his hands gripping you harder and dragging you closer. you gasp, shaken by the way his touch has your heart thundering and your knees weak. he snakes his fingers along your back and up to your hair, bringing you closer as your arms drape limply over his shoulders.
“fuck,” he groans between kisses, strained.
“one little kiss got you like this?” you tease breathlessly, pulling away for a moment as if you weren’t equally as turned on. he smirks against your lips, the feeling of it dangerous as he trails to your neck.
“if i really had you how i wanted,” he mutters between warm kisses to your skin, “you wouldn’t be able to stand right now.”
“is that so?” you scoff, the sound caught in another gasp as he drags his tongue from the base of your neck to the shell of your ear. his breath is ragged, the sound flooding your senses as your eyes flutter shut.
“you heard me,” hongjoong whispers, one hand beside the engine bay while the other slides back around your waist. he presses his thigh between yours, the friction sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine as your hips grind against him on their own before you could stop yourself. he chuckles, tutting at the way you grip the edge of the car to stay steady while your hips beg for more. “just like that, baby girl.”
you throw your head back, only able to stay like that for a second before hongjoong pulls you back against him, returning to your lips in a string of messy kisses. any doubts, any suspicions you had about hongjoong were well out the window with the way he ignited a fire inside of you. his tongue moves against yours hungrily, stifling a moan that slips out of you.
just as you’re about to dip your hand lower below his belt, the loud signaling of the software download completing pulls you out of your pleasure. he lifts himself from you, half-hooded eyes clouded with lust as he presses swollen lips together. you clear your throat, shoving past him timidly as you fidget with the control panel on the software. you can’t help but operate on autopilot as you move through the menus, your mind still replaying what happened mere seconds ago. you hear the faint vibration of an incoming call from hongjoong’s phone as he curses under his breath, glancing over at you. his face is still flushed, hair disheveled as he offers you an apologetic smile.
“duty calls,” he shrugs, gesturing to his phone. you meet his eyes, trying to ignore the electricity in the air as you nod at him with a smile. “see you around?”
“next weekend,” you offer, reminding him of the next meet. he nods, turning away from you before calling over his shoulder.
“we should do that again sometime.”
you scoff under your breath, returning back to your software mods and not noticing the way hongjoong hurriedly sent pictures of everything from the garage over to his unit—the license plates, the software, under the hood of stationed cars. he glances over at you from the driver’s seat of his nissan for just a second too long before he sighs and backs out of the garage lot.
*
hongjoong doesn’t just see you next weekend.
he’s on facetime with you nearly every night, questions about your car and what got you to into modding. the conversation deviates often from the cars, into stories about your family and your day-to-day life. he learns the names of your friends, the way you like your coffee in the morning. you notice that he isn’t as forthcoming about himself and part of it irks you, but the vast majority stifles the suspicion and enjoys his company.
not to mention the few nights he’d been incredibly detailed about what he’d do to you if he ever got you back to his place.
he’s texting you from his desk, images plastered across his computer screen from the most recent car meets that he’d forwarded and logged for his supervisors when you mention that you were scheduled for a race during the next meet. just as he’s about to cheer you on with a cheeky reply, a forwarded message from his unit captures his attention. he skims the headline, his heart dropping into his stomach as he reads the details of a fatal accident caused by illegal street racing that had spilled over onto the highway.
his mind flickers to you for a brief moment, a reminder of how excited you were to race someone after a while. guilt racks his mind at every detail he’d catalogued on the racing scene, torn between keeping illegal cars off of the streets but also coming to enjoy your company as much as he did.
with a sigh and a hand through his hair, hongjoong begins to file the report on the incident for his supervisors and leaves you on read.
*
the next car meet, you’re fixated on the most recent mods yeosang assisted you with. he instructs you how to engage the new fuel injectors, going deep into technicalities when a familiar engine’s hum fails to pull you out of the conversation. hongjoong parks beside you, his once-all-white nissan now boasting a series of mods under the hood and along its body, thanks to your guidance. he fails to catch your eye and frowns, leaning against his car as he watches you strategize with yeosang.
“think you’ll need something a little tighter than that,” a teasing voice interjects, one that finally snaps you out of it as you lock eyes with wooyoung. you scowl playfully, crossing your arms over your torso as you arch an eyebrow at him.
“if you think coming over to talk smack will get you to win, think again,” you throw back, eyes shifting to his honda. “might need to take that pretty little civic off your hands if i win tonight.” wooyoung gasps dramatically, the sound making you cackle as you wave him off to ready himself. you glance over at hongjoong, noticing the way his jaw clenches as he forces a smile your way.
“locked in, huh?” he asks as you approach him. his eyes can’t help but trail over your outfit for the night, the way it hugs every inch of your body. you grin and he notices the way your eyes light up as you speak about the work you’d gotten done on your subaru. as much as he’d grown to admire your skills, the part of him that had even led him to the car racing scene screamed in his head to turn you away from it. he couldn’t close his eyes for more than a minute without seeing the crash site images from the report he’d filed and thinking about what he’d do if you were in the same situation.
the crowd begins to line up on either side of the garage, hollering for you and wooyoung to be at the ready when his stomach drops.
“be careful,” he says, cutting off your description of yeosang’s most recent orders. you blink in surprise, scanning his face for any emotion. he blinks back at you, dead serious and forcing you to swallow with a nod.
“uh, i will,” you reply, offering him a small smile and lowering yourself into your car so you could line up beside wooyoung. hongjoong doesn’t meet your eyes from his side of the garage and you can’t help but wonder what’s gotten into him.
the drop of a black bra sends you both off and into the industrial complex, rounding the familiar corners and turns around abandoned equipment. wooyoung’s engine roars behind you and you beam, throwing your gear shift into place as you feel your car surge with acceleration. the race is comfortably yours, taking you around the complex like clockwork with the garage in view when wooyoung is just a hair behind you.
you can hear his cackle in your mind as you curse under your breath, fingers tight around your wheel with pale knuckles. just as you’re about to complete a final gear shift to send you deeper into the garage lot, a stutter from your engine jolts beneath you.
“fuck,” you hiss, your gaze flickering to your dash instinctively. no warning signs gave you an idea that it might have been a miscalculation in the new fuel injectors you’d installed with yeosang that didn’t quite match up with your build. wooyoung gains on you, closing in like a shadow as he pulls just past you and deeper into the garage. you can hear the familiar roar from the crowd as you pull in a second behind him, shoving your gear shift into park with your head pounding. wooyoung blows a kiss in your direction as he’s ushered away with a bottle of vodka and you shake your head.
letting out a sigh, you shove yourself out of the driver’s seat and find yourself face to face with hongjoong. there’s a fire behind his eyes that makes you blink in confusion.
“what happened?” he asks dryly. “thought you had this one in the bag.”
you’re not able to answer before he interjects. “looks like you bit off more than you could chew.”
“what’s your problem?” you scoff, irritated by his banter and trying to ignore the fact that you felt like a sore loser after spending so long trying to perfect your most recent installs. you storm off towards where mingi and yunho had left the cooler, followed closely by hongjoong as you hear him let out a sarcastic laugh.
“i could hear your engine stutter from here,” he quips.
“it was probably just the fuel injectors,” you reply, pouring yourself a shot straight from the bottle. “it’s not like it’s a fatal problem.”
“what if it was?” he continues, and you roll your eyes at his concern. it wasn’t as though your engine caught fire or a tire blew out around the bend. it was nothing more than a bad smell and a slow finish, but he was acting like you were about to kill yourself.
“you’re being excessive,” you snap, setting the bottle down. “these things happen. what’s gotten into you?” hongjoong pauses for a moment, his gaze meeting yours as his chest heaves in an awkward silence. you struggle to read his expression for any insight as to why he was on edge tonight. his jaw tightens at the word ‘excessive’, his fingers curled into fists at his sides.
“forget it,” he finally mutters, his words clipped as he takes a step back. he shakes his head. “you don’t get it.”
“no, i don’t,” you agree, throwing your hands above your head in exasperation. “you’re acting like i don’t know what i’m doing and as if mistakes can’t happen.”
“and if something worse happened?” he asks, eyes daggers. “what then?”
the silence after that hits hard, your breath caught in your throat as his expression shifts. you can’t quite decipher the emotions rising in your chest, but you sure as hell knew they weren’t pleasant. hongjoong looks at you for just a moment longer, his gaze softened as he turns back to his car.
“drive safe on the way home.”
he disappears into the crowd, the sound of his engine revving minutes later as he pulls out of the garage and into the night. you watch after him, caught between surprise and annoyance as the conversation replays in your mind.
your phone vibrates not long after midnight, once the crowd’s begun to wean and the adrenaline has settled. you’re seated on your hood, distant from mingi and yunho’s bickering nearby as you scroll through photos from one of your favorite car modders. the sight of his name stops you in your tracks, finger hovering over the screen.
[message from: hongjoong] i’m sorry about earlier. just want to make sure you’re okay.
[message from: hongjoong] you free to come over?
despite every warning bell in your mind telling you to ignore it, to disregard his concern and enjoy the rest of your night, you can’t fight the desperate curiosity pricking at your skin. you glance over at the boys, deep in their conversation before you bid them goodnight and hurry to hongjoong’s without a reply.
*
“didn’t think you’d actually come,” he comments, surprised as he lets you into his apartment building. you shrug, locking your car in its street parking spot as you follow him into the lobby. the building is much nicer than yours, polished floors and fountains on either side of the reception desk. the elevators are a blinding chrome, humming softly as the doors pull apart to let you in. hongjoong doesn’t meet your gaze as he enters his floor number and stands beside you awkwardly. when the elevator dings, he gestures for you to follow him down a quiet, dim hallway until he stops at his door.
the inside of his apartment is minimal, much like the car you saw at his first car meet. dark tile floors, soft overhead lighting, the faint smell of sandalwood and cologne lingering in the air. he tosses his keys onto the counter and turns to you, his expression pitiful as you cross your arms at him.
“i didn’t mean to go off on you,” he finally says, his voice measured. “i just … i heard your engine stutter and saw wooyoung get past you. i know it wasn’t fatal, but it made me worry about if it were something else that went wrong and how you brushed it off like it was nothing.”
you sigh, slipping your shoes off by the door. “it wasn’t nothing, hongjoong. i know the risks of racing. it’s not the first time i’ve raced and it won’t be the last.” that earns a clenched jaw from him, but you choose to ignore it. “i knew something might have been off, but i didn’t need a safety lecture in front of everyone.”
“let me make it up to you, then.” his expression shifts to something playful as he ushers you in, reaching for your hand and guiding you to his bedroom. “let me show you how sorry i am.”
you shoot him a skeptical look, but he’s already closing the space between you. again, your mind screams against every fiber of your being that’s letting him get his hands on you, but you don’t care. lust clouds logic as you follow him in and the door is shut behind you.
his mouth meets yours hungrily, tongue sliding against yours and teeth tugging at your bottom lip. you fist the fabric of his shirt with a gasp, dragging him closer as he chuckles against your lips.
“still mad, baby girl?” he breathes as he lifts you beneath your thighs. you lean in, wrapping your legs around his waist as you bite at the edge of his jaw.
“you have no idea.”
“good,” he scoffs, fingers digging into your thighs as he carries you to the bed and sets you down. “take it out on me.”
you prop yourself onto your elbows, daring him with a pointed gaze. “thought you were making it up to me, actually.”
“oh, i am,” he reassures you. “you’re gonna forget why we’re even fighting in the first place by the time i’m done with you.”
hongjoong drops to his knees at the edge of the bed, hands trailing along the inside of your thighs. you shudder at his touch, breath hitching in your throat. he watches you closely as he slips his fingers under the waistband of your pants. his fingers trail lower, lower until they make contact with already soaked fabric and force you to arch off of the mattress against your will. he hums, content as he presses and traces slow, tantalizing circles around your clit. the way his eyes remain on yours coaxes a moan out of you, hands outstretched to pull him closer to you. he obliges, discarding every article of clothing save for your underwear and his.
“fuck,” you breathe as he dips his hand back between your thighs, lowering himself in a trail of kisses from your chest to your stomach. hongjoong smirks against your skin, his fingers never letting up as he presses kisses down to your inner thigh. his eyes flicker to yours as he hooks a finger around the fabric, pulling it to the side and sinking his tongue between your folds.
a string of filthy moans slip out of you, fingers tangled in his hair. the sound only drives him madder, flicking his tongue against your clit with a groan of his own. he pulls away for a split second, his lips glistening from every drop of you as he meets your eyes with a half-grin.
“that’s it, baby,” he praises, relishing in the way his name falls off of your lips. “say my name again.” you curse as he laps at you, filthy and relentless. he devours you like he’s starving, waves of pleasure rolling against your core as you throw your head back.
and in a split second, it catches your eye.
“hongjoong.” your voice runs cold, the pleasure gone from every inch of your body as you pull away from him and sit up. you can’t hear if he’s speaking to you, your attention fixated on the badge staring back at you from his nightstand. the familiar glint of silver and navy, his name and officer number etched below the city’s seal. you almost hope it’s a joke for a split second, but the way his face pales when he looks at you doesn’t convince you that it is.
“are you fucking kidding me?”
“i forgot to put it away,” he grimaces, speaking more to himself than to you as he scrambles to shove it into the nightstand drawer. you follow after him, your blood boiling as you glare at him.
“oh, you forgot?” you snap, seeing red as he refuses to turn to you. “you’re a fucking cop. you’ve been playing me the whole time.”
“it’s not like that—”
“don’t,” you spit, unwilling to hear any pathetic excuse he threw your way. “were you just watching me this whole time? like some little undercover fantasy?”
“no,” he snaps, finally facing you. “it’s not personal.” you can’t help but laugh, the sound bitter and sharp as his eyes flicker with something unreadable.
“so what, fucking me was a nice bonus to tracking me?”
he doesn’t answer.”
“you’re unbelievable,” you snap, turning to grab your clothes in a huff. “i’m getting the fuck out of here. don’t even bother talking to me after this.” you’re all but three steps away from him when he grabs your wrist and spins you into the wall, pinning you with a force that makes your breath hitch.
“i didn’t mean for this to happen,” he growls, his grip tightening.
“oh, but you like it,” you lash out, struggling against him. “bet it felt so fucking good to get between my legs knowing you’re on duty. guess it’s just part of the job, isn’t it?” he slams his fist against the wall in frustration, his chest heaving as his eyes meet yours.
“this isn’t about the job.”
“then what is it about, hongjoong?”
his gaze darkens at your question and you expect him to deflect with a pitiful excuse about how the job had gotten muddled with his feelings for you, but instead he crashes his mouth onto yours with such force it steals the breath from your lungs. you gasp against him, fists pounding weakly against his chest as he slips his hands under your thighs again and hoist you up against the wall. your legs wrap around his waist instinctively before you can stop yourself. he pulls away for a split second and your fingers snake through his hair, yanking his head back so that he’s forced to meet your gaze again.
“i hate you,” you growl, disappointed at the way your core ached for his touch even after knowing who he was.
“i know,” he pants, snaking one hand around your waist as the other cradles your face. he lowers you back onto the bed, tearing away your underwear in one swift motion. there’s nothing soft in the way he touches you this time, raw and desperate as he juts his fingers between your folds in deep, staggered strokes. his fingers curl and you whimper, writhing under his touch as his mouth latches back onto your throat.
“you planning to forget i’m a cop while i fuck you senseless?” hongjoong’s question pulls you out of lust-filled haze, hatred etched across your expression as you fight against the pleasure rising from the pace of his fingers. you hate how good he makes you feel.
just as you feel your climax begin to rise beneath your skin, he withdraws his fingers and pulls himself up to hover over you. his eyes soften when they meet yours, the polar opposite to the frigid glare you gave him in return. he remains unfazed, a lopsided smirk still hanging from his lips. suddenly, he does the same thing he did to you the night he offered you the shot, pressing his fingers into your cheeks so that your jaw falls slack and he’s able to slip his hand covered in you past your lips. you latch onto them reluctantly, the familiar taste covering your tongue as you hold his gaze. his pupils are blown wide, focused on the way you suck his fingers despite claiming you hate him.
“you think this makes up for lying to me?” you ask, your voice dripping with disdain.
hongjoong scoffs, dragging his hand down your jaw and along your torso. “no, but you’re still here, aren’t you?”
you hate that he’s right.
your body trembles under his touch, throbbing from the absence of his fingers without release. you dig your nails into his shoulders, raking them along his back as his lips hover over yours. he curses under his breath at the sting and kisses you again. you barely notice the way his hand snakes back around your waist, turning you over and hoisting you onto your knees so that he could position himself behind you.
he hums in admiration at the sight of you bare before him, stroking his length in one hand as the other brushes along your entrance for the second time. you buckle under his touch, falling onto your forearms with a gasp.
“so wet,” he purrs, thumbing against your clit and relishing in the way it earns a moan from you. “tell me it’s not because of me. lie to me.” you curse yourself mentally, knowing fully well you can’t say anything in response.
“it’s not,” you manage to get out in a choked lie, and he lets out a dry laugh.
“whatever you say, baby girl,” he scoffs and bottoms out in you in one swift thrust. you cry out at the sensation of him filling you, the way his hips press into yours and push you forward. he wraps an arm around you, curling his fingers around your neck so that you’re pulled up against his torso. you arch your back against him as he begins to move, every thrust more sensitive and exactly where you needed him.
“you like this?” he groans against your ear, fingers tightening around your neck. “still acting like you don’t want me when i can feel the way you’re tight around me?” you bite down on your lip, nearly drawing blood from not wanting to give him the satisfaction of an answer. he ups the intensity, his thrusts causing you to gasp in low, staggered breaths. you try to wriggle out of his grip but he only tightens his arms around you and thrusts deeper, tearing a cry from your lips.
“say it,” hongjoong growls, teeth gritted as you let your head fall back from the pleasure tearing through you. “tell me how good i make you feel.”
“fuck you,” you spit, but you can’t hide the way your voice wavers as you tremble under his touch. he lets out a breathless, humorless laugh. his fingers slip between your thighs again, circling your clit as he keeps pounding into you hard and steady. you hate how close you are, the way that he’s able to push you there so easily.
he senses that you’re close, coaxing you back down onto your forearms and humming as you fist the sheets in broken cries of pleasure. his hands press into your hips, steadying himself as he rocks your body with every last thrust.
“come all over me, baby,” he urges, but you can tell from the strain in his voice that he’s just as close as you are. you can’t help but oblige, your orgasm washing over you in violent waves as you collapse onto the sheets in a drawn-out moan. hongjoong comes not long after you in a string of curses, releasing into you and filling you up before he leans over you. his breathing is staggered and rough, gasping down air as he shakes the hair from his eyes.
the silence that follows is deafening as you nearly immediately gather your clothes and get dressed. hongjoong looks at you wordlessly, longing in his eyes despite his lack of protest. you shoot daggers at him as you shove past him and towards his front door, pulling your keys out of your jacket pocket.
“whatever this is,” you snarl, gesturing between the pair of you, “is over. don’t fucking talk to me after this.”
you slam the door behind you without another word.
*
hongjoong shows up to the next car meet on high alert, expecting an ambush of street racers to ice him out for being a sellout. much to his surprise, not a single person gives the impression that they know who he really is. even worse, you’re nowhere to be found. mingi and yunho claimed you had finals around the corner and usually preferred to study when they were close, but he fully well knew your finals were over weeks ago.
he can’t help but wonder why you didn’t mention to anyone that he was a cop.
yeosang fills him in, sharing that several of the racers were on edge because of more frequent traffic shops and reports for mods. there was a panic in his voice, one that gave hongjoong the idea that he was also worried about the livelihood of his garage if people were becoming tense about their car builds. despite still on duty, hongjoong fails to ignore the gnawing guilt at selling out the community he’d unexpectedly become a part of.
several weeks have passed when hongjoong finds himself in his nissan yet again, perched atop one of the industrial complex’s garage rooftops. it was a weeknight, away from the bustle of the car meets that had grown sparse given the uptick in cop presence around the city. the echo of tires against asphalt finally captures his attention, a black subaru coming into view. his posture stiffens when he sees you, but he doesn’t speak right away.
you step out of your car defiantly, leaning against the door with crossed arms. “talk.”
he nods, averting your gaze and looking out at the new construction signs that were being arranged around the complex for incoming development. “why didn’t you tell anyone?”
you stare at him. “why would i? and cause everyone to be on edge and think that anyone could be a narc? the street racing scene would be nonexistent. you already did enough damage.” there’s a heartlessness to your voice that hongjoong isn’t used to, but he continues without flinching.
“that’s all you came back to say?” he asks calmly, and you shake your head.
“i came back to see your face again. to remind myself why i should hate you.”
“do you?”
a silence envelops you as you fight the sting behind your eyes, weeks of questioning and trying to rationalize hongjoong’s betrayal weighing on you.
“i hate what you did.”
hongjoong can’t help but feel disappointed by the answer, as if you hating him would have made it easier for him to find closure in his decision. he sighs, running a hand through his hair as he looks over at you pitifully.
“you were the one part of this assignment i didn’t fake,” he says, almost as if he needs to remind himself. “you have to know that.”
“that doesn’t mean anything,” you snap almost instantly in reply. “you still sold us out. you used us, you used me.”
“well, i won’t be anymore,” he announces, and you arch an eyebrow at him in question. “i filed for reassignment. i’ll be out of the way and you can relocate the car meets without a cop breathing down your neck.”
your mind flickers to the feeling of hongjoong’s breath hot on your ear as his fingers tighten around your neck, his thrusts into you as he fucked you.
“so you want me to congratulate you for leaving after two-timing us?” you scoff, swallowing with a shake of your head.
“i just … i can’t do this assignment anymore. i can’t separate professional from personal around here.” he realizes you haven’t softened, and his shoulders slump as he glances over at you for what feels like the last time. “i just wanted you to know before i left.”
the air hangs heavy with everything that could have been. you fight to ignore the ache in your chest as you glare at him, out at the complex covered in construction tape to be demolished by the incoming corporation. you circle your car, ready to open the door and take off when he meets your eyes one final time.
[ masterlist ] | profiles | ateez masterlist / started 12/09/25 (ongoing as of 12/09/25)
[!] ALL CHAPTERS ARE TAGGED #OTR SERIES
pairing: dj!hongjoong x reader
synopsis: everyone knows and adores kim hongjoong. the handsome, smooth-talking dj that has the world at his fingertips. at least ... everyone but you. while everyone saw the glitz and the glamor, you saw him for exactly what he was—a toxic situationship you're sworn off for life. or, so you think . . .
tags: exes to enemies to lovers (?), slow burn, mature themes throughout, lots of tension (in every form), situationship, dom!hongjoong x dom!reader
characters: non-idol ateez, mentions of twice, txt & lsfm members
notes: hi y'all! this is my first try at an smau ... just flagging that any images are sourced from pinterest, so full creds to the owners. i wanted to write this as a dj!hongjoong oneshot, but a series sounds a little more fun :-) enjoy! please reply to this post to be added to each chapter’s taglist!
—Baby? Could You Call Me Back? It's So Lonely In My Mansion—
Pairing: Kim Hongjoong x Fem!reader
Warnings/tags: 18+ MDNI, smut, phone sex, mutual masturbation, Hongjoong accidentally records his moans and uses them for adlibs, softdom!Hongjoong.
A/N: As I said in one of my earlier update posts, this came to me in the middle of the night without a wink of sleep. Eat up, because there's more coming (maybe a part two to this, who tf knows), and as always, this is a work of fiction; I do not depict the idols like this in real life!
Word count: 1.5k
Dividers from @enchanthings & @cursed-carmine
Title from Agora Hills by Doja Cat
It was late in the evening, and Hongjoong was busy recording some beats for their new comeback, along with some more personal works he let you listen to only.
While your boyfriend was at the studio, you were alone in your shared apartment, hoping he'd come home early.
You were in a predicament you couldn't fix alone.
For the past thirty minutes, you had been trying to get yourself to cum, not being able to hit the spots Hongjoong was able to with his cock.
You needed him. And badly.
So, you did the next best thing, speed-dialling his number even though you knew he was busy.
"Baby? What is it?" Hongjoong answered after two rings, having had his phone on vibrate and was able to answer quickly.
He could hear panting on the other end of the line, his brows furrowing as he called out your name. Then a whine followed, making Hongjoong realise what was going on.
"Baby, I'm working..." he murmured, feeling his dick twitch in his pants at the familiar sound of your desperate whimpers.
"Hongjoong-ah— I can't, I can't do it alone—" you mewled, panting over the phone. Your boyfriend could hear you shifting, the sheets making a soft sound as you let out another soft moan.
"Fuck, okay.. shit, give me a second, baby girl, I just need to lock the door in case someone decides to burst in unannounced again," he explained, getting up from his chair to lock the studio door before sitting back down, his legs spread wide as he listened to your noises.
"Hongjoong—" you called out, and he could practically hear your pout as he made you wait.
"I'm here, baby, I'm here.. tell me what you need." He groaned, palming his cock to soothe the ache of his length pressing against the zipper of his jeans.
"Need you.. I need your cock, Joong-ah— I can't, I can't cum, and— and I want to.. so badly."
You babbled while continuously switching between fingering yourself and rubbing your oversensitive clit.
It didn't feel as satisfying as Hongjoong did.
"Baby, can you tell me what you're doing? I promise I'll help, just tell me.." he grumbled as he put you on speaker phone, the studio walls padded with soundproofing panels.
"M'fingering myself.. doesn't feel as good as when you do it though..." you trailed off with a few breathless whines, Hongjoong humming as he tried to think of a way to pleasure you while he was half an hour away from your apartment.
"Are you lying on your back, sweetheart?"
"No— I'm on all fours," you admitted, another groan leaving Hongjoong's lips at the fact that you were trying to replicate him fucking you from behind.
"Lie down on your back, baby girl, I'll lead you," he breathed out, biting his lip as he placed his phone down and unbuttoned his jeans, shimmying them down to his thighs along with his boxers to let his leaking dick out.
Lying down on your back, you listened to Hongjoong's words, focusing on them, finding yourself tingling at the sound of it.
"Are you lying down for me, sweetheart?" He murmured sweetly into the phone, not letting himself touch his cock just yet.
"Yeah.. what do I do, Joongie? I need--"
"Shh, just focus on my voice, okay? Can you do that for me, pretty girl?" He cut you off, trying to get you to focus on him for now. He promised he’d take care of you, and he would, but he had to make sure you were listening to him.
“Mnhm, I’m listening, Joongie.. I’ll listen.”
“Good, good.” He hummed, then shifted in his seat, trying to get comfortable before speaking again. “Now, move your hand to your inner thigh and gently stroke your soft skin.”
Listening to him, you did as he said and caressed your inner thigh. You sighed softly, tilting your head back against your pillows. “What now?”
You ask, Hongjoong was gently listening in, humming softly as he gave you another order.
“Massage them for me, baby, just like I do it.. And then dig your nails into your skin, pretend I’m biting your thighs.”
“Okay—” You murmured, alternating between soft caresses and sharp squeezing. Closing your eyes, you moaned and curled your toes as you imagined that Hongjoong was there with you.
“You’re doing so well, baby, just like that.” He praised you, his dick aching for attention, so he finally started gently stroking his length, spreading the leaking precum all over as he listened to your needy whimpering.
“Move your hand to your pussy,” He murmured, panting. “Ghost your fingers along your slit. Don’t touch your clit, mmkay?”
“But Joongie—”
“Are you gonna let me make you feel good, or are you gonna be a bad girl and not listen to me?” He chided, his voice stern yet gentle. Your lips quivered as you listened, ghosting your fingers along your mound, feeling how wet you were getting without downright touching your sensitive bundle of nerves.
“M’so wet,” you let Hongjoong know, earning a grunt as he stroked his cock a bit faster, squeezing as if to replicate your pussy clenching around him.
“Yeah, baby? That’s good. Spread your folds and collect your slick on your fingers for me, and rub your clit slowly.”
You did as you were told, collecting your wetness, dragging it up to your clit. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the feeling of finally touching the bud before Hongjoong spoke up again.
“Okay, now stop,” he murmured breathlessly as he grabbed onto his desk with his free hand while still stroking and rubbing his tip with his thumb, playing with his dick and imagining it was you instead.
You whined at the loss of stimulation, but listened to your boyfriend, knowing he was doing what was best for you.
“Move your hands to your breasts now, knead them gently and use your middle and forefinger to play with your nipples. Can you do that for me?”
“Y-yeah—” you brought your hands to your tits, squeezing and fondling with them before catching your nipples between your fingers as he said. Your thighs clenched at the pleasure, a heady whine leaving your lips.
“Hongjoong-ah, I wish you were here…” You mumbled, desperate for your boyfriend to come home.
“I know, baby, but I’m—fuck. I’ll be home in an hour. Just focus on your pleasure for now, okay? I’ll make it up to you later.”
He promised, groaning soon after as he pleasured himself under his desk, accidentally hitting the record button on his laptop, his soft panting and grunts getting recorded.
“Baby.. finger yourself, use your middle and ring fingers, come on, make yourself feel good– imagine it’s me.”
You removed your free hand from your breast, slowly snaking your hand down along your abdomen to your soaked pussy lips, sinking two fingers in as you moaned loudly. It felt a lot better than earlier, your cunt squelching and hot with slick.
“Hit your g-spot for me, stroke it while using your palm to rub your clit, it’ll feel good, I promise.” He grunted, moving his hand faster against his dick, feeling closer to the edge as he made you moan over the phone.
Doing as he ordered you to, you rubbed your clit with your palm whilst stroking your g-spot, pressing the pads of your fingers against the spongy spot. Another broken moan left your throat, pleasure building up in your abdomen.
Hongjoong could recognise the pattern in your moans and knew when you were getting close, so he spoke up.
“Keep doing that, continue fucking yourself with your fingers and playing with your breasts. Make yourself cum, baby, I’m close too.” He panted, a moan leaving his lips as he teased his cockhead, his jaw slack as he got sloppier and started to thrust up against his hand.
“Need your sweet pussy, baby.. I love you.”
“I love you too, Joongie—ah- ngh!” You cried out softly as your orgasm hit you faster and harder than you expected. It was probably from the number of times you had tried to make yourself cum but failed that made this release more intense.
Hongjoong soon joined you, his limit reaching its peak, shooting out strings of cum that covered his hands and lower stomach, softly moaning out your name.
“Such a good girl, making yourself cum for me,” he praised you, breathless and hazy after coming.
“Come home soon..” you mumbled over the phone before ending it, leaving Hongjoong by himself in his studio once more.
He looked at the call time—an hour. Fuck. He could’ve been home by then. Hiding his cock back into his pants, he glanced at his laptop, freezing when he saw it recording the sound.
“Shit–” he cursed to himself, stopping the recording before deciding to listen to it. He knew he shouldn’t add it to the current song he was working on, but he had to check.
Remixing the sounds and tweaking it a bit, he hit play, listening as the soft moans subtly accompanied the beat and melody.
“Fuck, this sounds good…” He muttered, rubbing his face. He’d deal with the consequences later, he thought as he saved the file.
Right now, he was going to go home, make love to you and give you all the orgasms you deserved.
chat I’m drunk and high on the fact that I was at the office party and made a shy cute guy dance with me even though he said he doesn’t dance ever at events and I talked to him for like an hour about ai and stuff
I think the best reblogs I get are from kpop fans because their commentary is hilarious and yeah sure, that Korean pop star would definitely be a werewolf who wants to get freaky with bunny hybrid!reader
op turned off reblogs so the correction i made cant be reblogged, so im making a new post, mostly just repeating what i said. tl;dr:
google docs is not randomly deleting peoples work for being nsfw. there is no evidence at all that you are at risk of having google delete your fics for having "inappropriate" content.
this article by the wired is the only "source" op has ever provided. i would very very much recommend both reading the entire article and looking at the linked posts in it for yourself. it is also self-admittedly the only source they've ever found - so keep that in mind. it's about k. renee, an open door romance novelist who had her work restricted by google. "open door romance" refers to works where sex scenes happen on screens and are described in detail. they are explicit works. the article talks about similar things happening to a few different authors who write in the same genre.
the incidents described in this article happened in march 2024, which is over a year ago.
those affected had their works restricted, with a warning message. they were not abruptly deleted out of no where. authors were able to file appeals with google to recover their docs, though i havent found any updates on if they were successful in doing so.
the reason this happened is because google docs incorrectly flagged the shared documents as spam.
That author later posted a video to Instagram explaining that it wasn’t the adult content in the files but rather “Google thought I was spamming people.” Apparently, sending the same doc to scores of people—for example, alpha and beta readers—can make it appear as though the doc was unsolicited.
sharing a document that contains "adult content" with a lot of people will trigger google's automod, but the adult content itself is not the problem. if you are sharing a doc with a handful of people, or arent sharing it at all, this is not going to happen. from my own personal testimony, i have dozens and dozens of explicit, nsfw work in my google docs that ive shared with people, and none of them have been touched. i have not seen a single claim with proof that anyone's work has been deleted in the manner the original op describes.
there is no source at all for original op's claim that google is "using AI to find inappropriate and problematic content". in the above article (again, the only source), ai is mentioned once, to say that k. renee had ai functions turned off and did not think that was the problem.
Renee hadn’t turned on any of the AI functions in Google Workspace, so she doubted it could be chalked up to a bot banning her books. After all, a 2016 paper coauthored by Google researchers revealed that its recurrent neural network language models had been fed thousands of romances. If for some reason a bot was crawling her work, wouldn’t it recognize what it was looking at?
and, lets just think logically for a moment. if google docs was doing some sort of mass cleans of nsfw content using ai, dont you think it would be a more widespread story? would it be this hard to find sources and testimony about it? google docs has literally millions of users, including published authors and scientists and academics. if an ai bot was crawling works and deleting any it deemed nsfw, it would be mainstream news because it would be affecting countless people. and especially without disclosing a change in policy beforehand? they would probably get sued for it!
i am not making this post in defense of google, god forbid. google is open about the fact that they use any "publicly available" information to train their ai models (and did get sued for it), though they claim that they dont take from docs that they dont have permission to. i honestly, genuinely, cannot tell you the veracity of these claims or how serious the scraping is. like, i just do not know if google scrapes from private gdocs. if someone knows more and has better sources they are free to add on to the post.
but i want it to be clear that google docs is not going to randomly delete your works for having nsfw content. docs and pages disappear sometimes because google docs is a mess. you should always back up your files locally (switching to programs like ellipsus doesnt make your work safer, per se, as ellipsus is still cloud-based), and you should consider switching away from google docs if youre staunchly anti-ai, but they are not going to abruptly explode all your fics. that is simply not happening. you do not have to panic.
This is going to get really long but if you are a fanfic writer that uses google docs, it's so important that you read this as it affects you
If you haven't been aware about the previous discussion going around regarding google docs and what's been going on for about the last year now, let me recap it really fast: their shitty ai has *allegedly* (i mean we pretty much know but just to be safe) been scraping your work for ai training purposes and also using ai to moderate the content you are writing in docs - meaning that if it finds anything it doesn't approve of, like violence or sexual content, your docs will be deleted or locked for breaking policy, even if it's not.
Since July, I’ve only noticed the moderation affecting a few users here and there, but over the last couple of days my social feeds have shown me several fanfic writers from multiple fandoms posting about how their backup fic docs or works in progress docs are being deleted without warning or any kind of notice.
The screenshot above (via this tiktok) is from a couple hours ago & sadly that writer lost pretty much their entire collection of fics, and unfortunately they are not the only person this has happened to.
The purge that is happening right now seems to be SPECIFICALLY TARGETING FANFICS and (so far) not any other docs or novels in progress. But it’s a mass deletion, not just one or two doc like before.
IF YOU USE GOOGLE DOCS TO WRITE OR GOOGLE DRIVE TO BACK UP FICS: please please pleaseeeee start downloading your work before you lose it for good.
This is not meant to cause panic, but I heavily consider it time sensitive as I would just really hate for this to happen to anyone here or anywhere else. Check to see if you are missing any wips or if your docs are locked.
If you need help figuring out how to download your work, or need ideas on where to write or store your work going forward, many of us fellow fanfic writers would be happy to share that info with you based on our writing processes. I'll share some resources below, and if you have any that i'm missing please comment them so others can look into it as well!
If this has happened to you, first of all: I'm so sorry, and secondly: please share your experience!
how/when did you notice, what did you lose, did you reach out to support, was support helpful/responsive, was your work ever recovered or did you lose everything for good?
