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follow at your own risk pt.2

pairing: kwon jiyong x fem! reader

synopsis: following the morning-after rules jiyong set to keep you safe, the tour became a constant game of push and pull; him breaking his own boundaries, while you’re left to enforce them. the tension built quietly; tangled in stolen glances, subtle touches, and one nickname you never meant to take seriously…until halloween night.

warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content | oral (f. receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, daddy kink, dom!jiyong, brat!reader, power play, semi-public sex, begging, teasing, praise kink, multiple orgasms, light overstimulation, consensual rough sex | age gap (legal), slow burn, angst, workplace power imbalance, swearing, idol/fan dynamic, jealousy, pushing boundaries, generational humour differences.

author’s note: happy kinktober!! i am so excited to be participating in this event with so many amazing and talented writers! i figured, what better way to start off the month than with the part two that everyone has been begging for, along with some gdaddy content 😈 if you haven’t read part one, i’ve linked it below for some context on their relationship dynamic! i am super happy with how this turned out, and i hope that you all enjoy it as much as i do!! i love you all ♡

part one | part two | bonus scenes

sunlight pushed weakly through the curtains; enough to nudge you awake, but not enough to demand you move.

your cheek was pressed to jiyong’s shirt, the steady beat of his heart filling the quiet.

his arm was heavy around your waist, holding you there like he hadn’t meant to fall asleep with you tangled across him, but also hadn’t let go once he did.

zoa and iye had taken the other side of you, their small bodies warm against your back.

his fingers were already in your hair. slow, barely-there touches that felt more instinctive than conscious.

memories from yesterday started to collect, hesitant at first.

the early morning meeting. your boss hating you. the job offer. the studio. the boys. his penthouse. him.

the smaller details followed in fragments.

what it felt like when he kissed you. how possessive his hands had been. the way he held you like he meant it, even though it made no sense.

he hadn’t even known your name yesterday morning.

now, not even a full day later, you were in his bed, curled into his chest, in his hoodie, with his fingers threaded through your hair like they belonged there.

you stirred without thinking, inching closer into the warmth of him. your leg drifted higher, slipping over his and settling just above his hip bone.

his hand paused when you moved, just for a moment, before settling back into the same slow rhythm through your hair.

“morning, trouble,” jiyong spoke softly, his voice still rough with sleep.

you shifted against him, one hand drifting up to rub the tiredness from your eyes.

when your gaze found his, your smile followed without hesitation.

there was a softness in your eyes, still glazed with sleep, like your heart had already recognized him before your mind could catch up.

“hi,” you whispered, voice cracking from disuse as you let your head drop back onto his chest, eyes closing like the morning had already asked too much of you.

he hadn’t been prepared for this version of you; sleepy and quiet, melting into him like you’d done it a thousand times before.

he brushed your hair away from your face without thinking, pressing a quiet kiss to the top of your head.

“how did you sleep?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“like a baby,” you mumbled, voice muffled where it pressed into his hoodie.

he let out a soft breath of laughter, warm against your hairline.

“figured,” he said, thumb brushing lightly over the curve of your neck. “you drooled on me.”

your head lifted fast, eyes wide with sleepy offense. “no, i didn’t.”

“you did.” he grinned as he tapped the fabric of his hoodie with his pointer finger. “right here.”

“that was probably zoa,” you muttered, weakly pushing at his chest before hiding your face in it again.

his chest shook beneath you with a quiet laugh. “also,” he added, dragging the word out, “did you know that you talk in your sleep?”

you cracked one eye open. “excuse me?”

“mmhm,” he said, the grin on his face already forming. “clear as day. ‘kwon jiyong, i swear to god—’”

a laugh burst out before you could stop it, your hand flying to cover your mouth. “shut up. no way.”

“way,” he said, laughing as he rested one of his hands on your thigh. “you were dead serious. sounded like i owed you money or something.”

you let out a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “what else did i say?”

“hard to say,” he shrugged, shifting just enough to try and catch your expression. “the rest was mostly gibberish…but i’m almost positive you said ‘don’t test me’ at one point.”

your eyes narrowed as you looked up at him, chin still resting on his chest. “what the hell did you do to me in my dream, kwon?”

his brows pulled together, caught somewhere between amused and alarmed. “me?”

you nodded, stone-faced. “don’t act so innocent. if i was threatening you in my sleep, you obviously did something.”

he blinked hard, like you’d just accused him of a felony. “okay—but like, how would i know what happened in your dream?”

“i don’t know,” you said, poking his chest. “but my subconscious clearly clocked some shady behavior. you were up to something.”

he let out a short, confused laugh. “you’re actually blaming me for something dream-me did?”

“oh, i’m not blaming dream-you,” you said, eyebrows raised. “i’m blaming you-you. dream-you is just the whistleblower.”

jiyong stared at you, mouth opening slightly like he wanted to protest, but couldn’t find the words.

“i was literally half-asleep,” he said finally, dragging a hand down his face. “right next to you.”

“which gave you access!” you argued, sitting up slightly like you were presenting evidence to the jury. “you probably infiltrated the dream.”

he let out a sharp laugh, throwing his head back onto the pillow for a second before looking at you again. “you’re insane.”

“you’re deflecting,” you replied, squinting at him. “that’s textbook guilt.”

he groaned, dragging a hand over his face. “oh my god.”

you didn’t flinch. “apologize.”

“for what?!” he asked, voice cracking a little. “something dream-me did?”

“no,” you said sweetly, “for whatever real-you did to make dream-you act like a dickhead.”

he let out a long, suffering sigh as he closed his eyes. “i’m sorry for infiltrating your dreams, or whatever you said earlier.”

“that didn’t sound very sincere,” you said, scrunching your nose.

one of his eyes cracked open, a crooked smile tugging at his mouth. “alright—i formally apologize for dream-me being a asshole. real-me takes full responsibility for causing you emotional damage in an alternate reality.”

you nodded, satisfied. “see? that wasn’t so hard.”

“i hate it here,” he grumbled, but his thumb never stopped moving on your thigh.

you hummed softly, triumphant, and let your head fall back to its place on his chest.

the grin on your lips still lingered, but your eyes had softened; fluttering shut as his hand resumed its slow drag across your thigh, his thumb moving absentmindedly over your skin like muscle memory.

the room went still again.

not completely silent, thanks to the hum of the heater and the muffled sounds of the city, but the kind of quiet that only settles when something else is waiting beneath it.

jiyong didn’t speak, but his fingers continued to move. he threaded them through the ends of your hair, carefully untangling knots that weren’t even there.

it was comforting. addictive. the kind of intimacy that was too easy to get used to.

you didn’t say anything either.

you just lay there, suspended in that weird, quiet space between sleep and whatever came next.

and maybe you could’ve stayed like that.

maybe, if you stayed still long enough, he wouldn’t say what you knew was coming.

but when he inhaled a little deeper, you felt it.

the way his chest lifted beneath your cheek. the way his fingers slowed in your hair. the subtle shift in the air.

“y/n?” his voice was softer now. careful.

you swallowed. “hm?”

he hesitated for a moment. “can we talk?”

your fingers curled slightly against his shirt. “you’re already talking,” you mumbled.

he huffed, a quiet breath through his nose. “don’t be annoying.”

you smiled, just barely. “speak your mind, ji.”

he didn’t answer right away.

he kept tracing through your hair, each pass slower than the last; like if he just kept his hands busy, the truth of it all might stay buried a little longer.

“i’ve just been thinking,” he eventually said, voice low and a little rough around the edges.

you didn’t answer. didn’t even blink.

just kept your head on his chest, eyes fixed somewhere in the space between his collarbones.

his throat moved beneath your cheek as he swallowed. “about…this.”

your hand twitched slightly where it rested against his side; barely a flinch, but he felt it.

“last night. this morning. all of it,” he went on, a little quieter now. like the words were still forming, even as they left his mouth.

you gave the smallest nod, almost imperceptible.

you weren’t surprised. some part of you had been bracing for it since last night.

since the moment he whispered ‘we’ll figure it out’ into your skin like a promise he never planned to open.

you hadn’t expected the conversation to come this soon.

not while you were still wrapped in each other. not with your leg draped over his hip and his hand tangled in your hair.

but deep down, you knew it was inevitable.

it lived in the quiet between his words.

in the way he’d held you a little too tightly afterward, like he already felt the clock ticking.

in the way your chest tightened every time you remembered that none of this was simple.

not you, not him, and especially not the world you were about to step back into.

“you’re gonna be with me,” he said, slower now. “working by my side every single day.”

he didn’t have to spell it out. you knew exactly what came with that.

“people are gonna notice,” he continued, eyes fixed somewhere past you. “they’ll talk. twist things. make it a whole thing before we even figure out what this is.”

his hand was still in your hair, but his voice had gone soft; measured in a way that told you he’d been thinking about this all night.

“you already know how it gets,” he said. “they’ll dissect everything. turn you into a headline for just…being near me.”

the wall beside his bed blurred slightly as you stared it down, gaze locked like you could keep the moment from moving forward if you just didn’t look at him.

“i know you’re tough,” he said softly. “but that doesn’t mean that you should have to be.”

his eyes searched your face, like he was hoping you’d stop him; give him an excuse not to keep going.

“i just…” he hesitated, breath catching slightly. “…i still feel like i have to protect you.”

you didn’t answer. silence felt safer than risking saying the wrong thing.

instead, you shifted closer, as if the warmth of his body could shield you from what you already knew was coming.

“i just think we need to draw a line,” he said, each syllable steady and deliberate. “no more…this. not while we’re working. not when other people are around. it’s smarter that way.”

your cheek stayed pressed to his chest, eyes fixed on the slow rise and fall beneath you. the sound of his heartbeat filled your ear, steady and unflinching, even as yours stumbled.

“okay,” you said quietly, your voice steady in a way that almost convinced you too. “if that’s what you want.”

the steadiness of your words only made him ache. it was the kind of calm that didn’t belong to you; the kind that almost sounded like retreat.

you remained still, swallowing down the lump in your throat, forcing the ache back far enough that it wouldn’t show.

“hey,” he whispered, brushing the side of your face with his fingers, coaxing you to look at him.

you let his hand guide your face, your eyes lifting to his despite the sting gathering at the edges.

his gaze softened instantly, guilt etched in every shade of brown that looked back at you.

“this isn’t because of you,” he murmured softly. “i like you. way more than i should, considering we just met.”

you gave a small shrug as you let your head fall back down onto his chest. “i know,” you replied calmly. “we can do whatever you think is best, ji.”

his hand stayed tangled in your hair, waiting for the lean-in that never came.

“we can still be us,” he said quickly, trying to fill the silence. “joke around, hang out. i’m not asking you to stop being you.”

“sure,” you answered, your voice clipped but light.

his thumb brushed against your temple, restless, as though the motion could hold your attention. “i just mean…” his words dragged, uncertain. “no more kissing. no more hooking up. no touching when people are around.”

“okay,” you breathed, as if it were the simplest answer in the world.

he studied you in the quiet that followed, thumb still restless against your temple.

“y/n,” he said finally, your name breaking low from his chest.

“i’m good,” you murmured, lifting your head just enough to meet his eyes. the smile you gave him was bright, practiced, like it cost you nothing. “boundaries are healthy.”

his brows knit together, suspicion flickering. “you’re being weird,” he said slowly, as if naming it might pull the truth out of you.

“i’m being reasonable,” you argued, breaking your gaze away from his once again.

his eyes narrowed, studying you. “reasonable doesn’t look like this.” he muttered. “you’re shutting me out.”

you let out a weary breath. “i’m just agreeing with you, ji. that’s all.”

“you won’t even look at me,” he whispered, his voice coming out softer than he meant it to.

your eyes flicked up just long enough to catch his before slipping away again. “i’m just tired,” you said quietly, as if that explained everything.

he breathed in, unsteady, the rise of his chest uneven beneath you. “y/n…” he said again, softer this time, almost careful.

“what?” the question slipped out with more bite than you’d planned. “you want me to fight you on it?”

he let out a short, embarrassed laugh. “yeah,” he admitted, shaking his head. “part of me did want you to fight it. which is stupid, considering i’m the one who’s supposed to know better.”

your lips curved, though the ache in your chest didn’t ease. “maybe,” you teased lightly, “but you’re also the one making the rules. if this is what you want, i’m not gonna argue with you about it.”

he sighed, a soft laugh caught in it. “the worst part is, i don’t even want the rules. i just…feel like it’s the only way to keep you from getting hurt.”

you looked up at him, a smile tugging at your mouth despite the tightness in your throat. “that’s the thing, ji. you don’t actually believe in your own rules.”

his thumb lingered in your hair, guilt shadowing his eyes. “maybe not. but i believe in protecting you.”

you let your head drop back against him, your laugh quiet, almost fond. “then you’ve gotta make up your mind. either we have boundaries and you keep them, or you stop pretending like you can.”

he chuckled, the sound rough in his chest. “you make it sound so simple.”

“it is simple,” you said, smirking up at him. “you just like to complicate things.”

his mouth curved, but before he could answer, you tilted your head. “actually…wait. if i’m not allowed to date you, does that mean i can date seunghyun instead? since he’s, you know…” your grin widened, “sort of the deluxe version of you.”

his head jerked back like you’d slapped him, eyes wide. “deluxe version?” he repeated, scandal dripping from every syllable.

you bit down a laugh, nodding solemnly. “mhmm. taller, older, deeper voice. seems like an upgrade to me.”

“upgrade?” he sat up half an inch, staring at you in disbelief. “yah—are you out of your mind?”

you bit your lip, eyes glinting as if you’d just discovered the best game in the world. “don’t act so shocked. everyone knows seunghyun’s got that whole…broody, mysterious, man-of-few-words thing going. total bonus features.”

he scoffed so loudly it made your chest shake with laughter. “bonus features? what am i then—basic model?”

“exactly,” you teased, patting his chest like you were confirming it on a receipt. “starter pack. great for beginners, but eventually you wanna upgrade.”

his jaw dropped, disbelief painted across his face. “starter pack? yah, you’re unbelievable.” he pushed a hand through his hair, muttering half under his breath, “deluxe version, my ass…”

your grin only widened, delight bubbling out of you. “hey, don’t be mad. these are your rules, remember? no kissing, no cuddling, no you. so technically…nothing’s stopping me from going after him.”

his head whipped back to you so fast you thought he might hurt himself. “nothing’s stopping you—” his voice broke into a disbelieving laugh. “you’re actually insane.”

“i’m just following your boundaries,” you sang sweetly, resting your chin on his chest like the picture of innocence.

he pointed a finger down at you, eyes narrowed, but the corners of his mouth betrayed him, twitching upward. “you’re evil.”

“mm.” you smiled, smug as ever. “but at least i’m respecting the rules. can’t say the same for you, mister ‘no more touching’ with your hand still in my hair.”

his hand stilled instantly, caught red-handed. “…shit,” he muttered, dropping it to his side.

your laugh rang out, triumphant. “see? you can’t even last five minutes. how are you gonna survive an entire world tour?”

“easily,” he shot back, smirking like he believed it.

he did not survive easily.

in fact, he barely made it ten feet into the airport before he broke his own rule.

the tour hadn’t even started, and already the crowd was swallowing him whole; fans screaming his name, camera shutters clicking like machine guns, staff waving badges and shouting updates into headsets.

it was the kind of chaos he knew all too well. the kind he could usually drown out.

except today, his focus refused to stay on anything but you.

you were walking beside him; noise-cancelling headphones on, phone in hand, scrolling through the pictures you’d just taken while humming whatever throwback song you were currently obsessed with.

with you running his new instagram, 88llow88llowme, it wasn’t unusual for your eyes to be glued to your phone, capturing little moments of him into frames only you knew how to find.

however, this meant that you were everywhere he was; in the chaos, in the quiet, documenting every angle of a life most people only saw in pieces.

you were so absorbed in your gallery that the noise around you blurred into the background. every swipe seemed to pull you further into your own head, a half-smile tugging at your lips as you lingered over each shot.

somewhere between steps, you started to drift.

it was barely noticeable; just a quiet shift as your steps pulled you a little sideways.

but he noticed. of course he noticed.

you didn’t look up until a familiar hand landed at your waist, guiding you back without a word.

your hand shot out immediately, smacking his away like a reflex. it wasn’t hard, just enough to make a point.

“kwon jiyong,” you said, sharp with mock-offense. “boundaries.”

he turned his head toward you, eyes shimmering. there was laughter tugging at the corners of his mouth already. “you were about to walk into jaeho.”

your eyes lifted, scanning ahead. jaeho was a good few steps in front of you, fully in his lane, looking unbothered and unaware.

“sure,” you nodded slowly. “blame the innocent man just doing his job.”

jiyong bit his lip to keep from smiling, but failed spectacularly. “i was helping.”

“you were breaking your own rules,” you countered, voice light and smug.

he sighed like the world had wronged him. “you’re never gonna let this go, are you?”

you gave him a sweet, unbothered shrug. “nope.”

he laughed, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe you. “unreal.”

his hands disappeared into his pockets as he fell back into step beside you, close enough to brush shoulders but just out of reach.

you narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously.

he met your gaze with wide, innocent eyes. “not touching,” he said, all fake sweetness. “see? i’m learning.”

you snorted under your breath. “sure, ji. we’ll see how long that lasts.”

it didn’t last long at all.

barely a day into the tour, you felt the weight of his head tip onto your shoulder during the morning briefing.

everyone was crammed into the hotel lobby, half-awake and pretending to care what the tour manager was saying about call times.

you didn’t even look up from your phone.

“ji,” you said calmly, tilting your shoulder just enough for his head to slide off.

he made a wounded noise. “why are you like this.”

“why do you act like i’m the one that made the rules,” you replied sweetly, still scrolling.

he muttered something about regrets and betrayal and stomped off dramatically, tripping over a suitcase on purpose just for dramatic effect.

two days later, you found a rare pocket of quiet backstage and wasted no time claiming it.

you stretched out across the greenroom couch, earbuds in, phone balanced on your stomach as you sifted through photos from the last show.

you barely registered the sound of the door before you felt a sudden weight drop onto you, knocking the breath from your lungs. “oh my god—”

jiyong dropped onto you without warning, chest-first and sprawled out like you were the couch. his chin pressed to your shoulder, one arm flung carelessly across your side.

“what’re we watching?” he mumbled, voice muffled by your hoodie.

you yanked out one earbud and glared at him. “my life flashing before my eyes.”

“cool, cool.” he shifted slightly, just enough to rest more comfortably. “seems cinematic.”

you stared at the ceiling, defeated. “you are literally suffocating me.”

“just tryna bond.” he craned his neck to peer at your screen. “oh, that’s a good one. save that.”

you didn’t dignify him with a response.

instead, you rolled your hips to the side with one sharp twist, and his balance gave out instantly.

he slipped right off and hit the floor with a dramatic thump.

“ow—” he yelped, clutching his side like he’d been shot. “you’re so violent.”

you propped yourself up on your elbow and gave him a look. “you’re so touchy.”

his eyes narrowed. “you used to like that about me.”

“used to,” you nodded solemnly, voice flat. “back before you had rules.”

he groaned from the floor, flopping onto his back in defeat as he flipped you off.

you smirked and slipped your earbud back in, already returning to your edits.

“love you too, by the way,” you added, just loud enough to make sure he heard.

he didn’t respond, but you caught the small grin tugging at his mouth before he turned his head away.

the next week passed like every other since the tour started; long days, late nights, and jiyong still breaking his own rules like they were suggestions instead of boundaries.

he touched your waist in crowded hallways. rested his chin on your shoulder during van rides. threw his arm across your chest while you were napping, like he was your personal seatbelt.

every time, you called him out.

every time, he pretended to be shocked.

after the show earlier that night, you’d barely made it back to your room before collapsing face-first on the bed, half-scrolling your phone, half-dozing off, when a knock rattled the door.

“nope,” you called, not even lifting your head.

“yes,” came his voice, muffled but smug.

you groaned. “you’re not invited.”

“i just wanna hang out,” he said quickly, knocking again. “i swear. nothing illegal.”

“illegal?” you laughed, sitting up. “you’re thirty-six. everything you do with me is illegal.”

“yah,” he sounded offended, but couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out. “don’t start.”

“i’m serious,” you went on, smirking as you padded to the door. “this is textbook harassment. i should call hr.”

“i am hr,” he shot back. “open the door.”

you cracked the door just enough to look out.

he was leaning against the frame, hair pushed back like he’d already decided to cause trouble.

the grin on his face confirmed it.

“hm,” you squinted at him. “i’ve seen that look before. nothing good ever follows it.”

“i don’t have a look,” he shot back immediately, as though you’d accused him of a crime.

you tilted your head, already easing the door shut. “uh-huh. keep telling yourself that.”

his hand shot out, slapping against the door before it closed, and the next thing you knew, your feet were off the ground.

“what the hell is wrong with you?!” you shrieked, kicking as he threw you over his shoulder. “put me down, you asshole!”

he adjusted his grip, laughing as your fists pounded his back. “not a chance. this is way easier than arguing with you.”

“easier?!” you yelped, fists thudding uselessly against his back. “you can’t just pick people up when they don’t agree with you!”

he chuckled, shifting you higher on his shoulder. “worked, didn’t it?”

“worked?!” you twisted, trying to kick free. “you’re deranged! this is harassment!”

the commotion carried down the hall until jaeho stepped out; his eyes flicking from you, dangling upside down, to jiyong’s smug grin.

“help me!” you cried, reaching dramatically towards him. “he’s abducting me!”

his mouth twitched, fighting back a laugh, and with a small shake of his head, he slipped back into his room.

“unbelievable!” you yelled after him, smacking your palm against jiyong’s back. “i thought i was your favourite!”

jiyong’s laugh cracked, loud in your ear. “see? no one’s buying your victim act.”

you twisted, glaring at him from over his shoulder. “that’s because you’ve got everyone brainwashed!”

he let out another laugh, carrying you the last few steps before shoving his door open with his hip.

he barely cleared the doorway before tossing you onto the bed, grinning like he’d just pulled off the heist of the century.

“that’s better,” he said, brushing his hands off.

you shot upright, outrage written all over your face. “better for who?”

“for me,” he replied, not missing a beat.

before you could even respond, he grabbed a towel off of the chair and slung it over his shoulder, already moving towards the bathroom.

“excuse me? where are you going?” you asked, eyes tracking him across the room.

“to shower,” he answered casually.

your jaw dropped. “are you kidding me? you couldn’t have showered before coming to kidnap me?!”

“obviously not,” he shot back, glancing at you with a shameless grin. “had to leave the option open in case you felt like joining.”

your laugh came out sharp and disbelieving as you grabbed the nearest pillow and hurled it at his head. “you’re disgusting.”

he caught it with ease and immediately tossed it back at you while still laughing. “it was worth a shot.”

the pillow landed back in its place as you flopped back onto the bed with a dramatic groan. “unbelievable.”

he was still laughing when he backed into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

you sighed, rolling onto your back and staring at the ceiling for all of ten seconds before boredom won.

your phone was within reach, so you grabbed it, scrolling with lazy flicks of your thumb.

one clip caught your attention; slowed concert footage of him dragging a hand through his hair before snapping into the beat, hips rolling like he owned the stage.

you watched it twice before forcing yourself to open the comments, already laughing at what you might find.

you didn’t even make it past the first comment before you cracked, laughter spilling out so hard your stomach hurt.

‘ok g-daddy we see you’ it read, racking up almost as many likes as the video itself.

you were still gasping for air with tears forming at the corners of your eyes, when the shower cut off.

the room went quiet except for your laugh echoing against the walls.

“yo,” jiyong’s voice floated out through the door. “what are you laughing at?”

you tried to smother the sound of your laughter with your sleeve, but failed miserably.

“seriously,” he called again. “what’s so funny?”

you cleared your throat, trying to keep your voice casual. “nothing, g-daddy.”

the silence that followed was deafening.

you buried your face in the pillow, shoulders shaking, tears slipping out as you tried to keep the laughter quiet.

“wait—wait, wait, wait—what the fuck did you just say?” his voice cracked out.

you bit your knuckle to keep yourself from laughing, which only made it worse.

the bathroom door slammed open a second later, steam pouring out behind him like a stage entrance.

he stumbled out in a cloud of heat, towel barely hanging on,

you were already doubled over, clutching your stomach.

his steps were erratic, like he couldn’t decide whether to flee the scene or interrogate you with his entire soul.

“g-daddy?” he choked, practically wheezing. “did you just call me g-daddy?!”

you nodded through your laughter, eyes sparkling. “it suits you, don’t you think? has a nice little ring to it.”

he stared like you’d grown a second head. “no. no, absolutely not—”

“g-daddyyy,” you repeated, dragging it out this time, just to be annoying.

“no,” he cut in, voice cracking again. he pointed at you like he could physically reverse the words. “you are not calling me that.”

you were already laughing too hard to speak. “you—you did this! this is my revenge.”

his eyes narrowed. “revenge for what?”

“for your stupid boundaries,” you cried, turning the screen to him. “they’ve been calling you g-daddy all week. how have you not seen this?!”

he stepped closer, squinting at the video. his mouth opened. closed. opened again.

you caught the shift in his face before he could hide it; the split-second ‘oh no’ that flickered behind his eyes.

your grin turned slow and dangerous. “wait,” you said, sitting up straighter. “oh my god—you like it.”

he scoffed. “what? no.”

you tilted your head, narrowing your eyes like you were solving a puzzle. “you totally do.”

“do not psychoanalyze me right now,” he warned, towel slipping lower as he tried to gesture vaguely at your phone. “that’s not what’s happening.”

“mm,” you mused. “sure it’s not. you’re bright red.”

“that’s sweat,” he said too fast. “from the shower. obviously.”

you leaned forward. “is it?”

“shut up,” he said, one hand flying up like he was trying to block the soundwaves. “you’re being annoying on purpose.”

“me?” you gasped, mock-offended. “i’m just a humble staff member trying to document your legacy, g-daddy.”

“stop saying it!” he cried, pacing toward the dresser like the movement might save him. “this feels like a hate crime.”

“you’re the one with a daddy kink,” you called after him, biting your lip.

he stopped dead in his tracks, his entire body stiffening as though your words reached a part of his brain that he’d been actively avoiding.

“excuse me?” he said, voice climbing several octaves. “i do not have a daddy kink.”

you propped yourself up on your elbows, brows lifted. “oh, okay. so i guess the be-a-good-girl-and-beg-for-it energy was just a coincidence?”

he turned around slowly, needing to see your face to make sure you were being serious.

he looked traumatized.

you, however, were having the time of your life.

“you—” he sputtered, eyes wide. “that was—i was being—dominant. not…” he trailed off, expression contorting like the word itself betrayed him.

you nodded solemnly, biting back a grin. “sure. because telling your much younger employee to beg for it is just normal workplace dominance. nothing to unpack there.”

he looked violated. “don’t say it like that. you make it sound—”

“like a daddy kink?” you offered, fully smiling now. “that’s because it definitely is.”

“okay, no. nope. shut it down. i’m not doing this with you.” he said, pulling open the dresser like finding pants would save his dignity.

you propped your chin in your hand, still grinning. “so what now? just…parade around half-naked until i forget what i said?”

“no,” he muttered, yanking a pair of sweats from the drawer. “i’m just getting dressed.”

you squealed, immediately rolling onto your stomach, face buried in the blanket. “boundaries! hello?”

“are you serious?” he cracked up, tugging them on. “you’ve literally seen it all.”

“that was private!” your voice came out muffled against the comforter. “this is workplace harassment.”

“workplace harassment?” he repeated, still laughing at your ridiculousness. “need i remind you, you’re in my room.”

you peeked up just long enough to glare. “you dragged me into your room, which makes me the victim here.”

“oh, please,” he dropped onto the mattress beside you, water still dripping from his hair onto your arm. “you are not a victim. you live for this.”

you rolled onto your back, smirking up at him. “what i live for is enforcing the rules you made.”

“i hate those rules,” he said, though his grin gave him away.

“good,” you shot back. “that means they’re working.”

he leaned closer, bracing one arm on the pillow beside your head. “one kiss,” he murmured. “just one. no one would know.”

your pulse skipped for just a second before you shoved his face away, laughing. “nope. that’s a violation. i’m filing another complaint.”

he laughed into your palm, catching your wrist and pressing it flat against his chest. “complaint denied. i’m the boss.”

you pulled back with a shit-eating grin plastered on your face. “that’s cute. kind of hard to take the boss seriously when he’s this desperate.”

he groaned dramatically, collapsing back onto the hotel bed with a grin. “you’re gonna break eventually.”

“maybe,” you said, sliding off the mattress with your phone in hand. you tugged your hoodie straight and headed for the door. “not tonight though, g-daddy.”

his laugh cracked, boyish and helpless. “i hate you!” he shouted after you, voice breaking from how hard he was laughing.

you stopped at the doorway, half-turned with a smirk. your wink was quick and smug. “love you too, g-diva!”

you pulled the door shut behind you, leaving him sprawled in his sheets, groaning like you’d just ruined his whole life.

the next few days passed in a haze of flights, late nights, and too little sleep.

by the time any of it registered, you’d landed in australia for the final show before a much needed break.

soundcheck was already underway, bass rattling through the empty arena as jiyong moved under the lights.

you sat cross-legged on the floor at the side of the stage, phone in hand, snapping pictures between scrolls.

every so often, he glanced your way, a quick grin flashing before he turned back to the mic.

it was a habit by now; something he always found himself doing when you were around, and somehow, it tugged a smile out of you every single time.

your phone started to ring mid-photo, the name ‘seunghyun’ flashing across the screen.

your eyebrows shot up, and a grin spread before you even answered.

you scrambled to your feet, clutching your phone tight as you wove past the speakers and ducked further backstage.

when the noise finally dulled to a manageable level, you swiped the screen and lifted it to your ear.

“hello?” your voice came out a little too bright, betraying the grin you couldn’t hold back.

“rookie,” he drawled, warm and amused, just like how he always sounded when he called just to bug you. “tell me you’re coming to the party.”

your brows knit, confusion flickering across your face. “party?” you echoed. “what party?”

“the halloween one we’re hosting. don’t tell me jiyong didn’t—” he cut himself off, the disbelief clear in his tone. “yah, you’re joking. he never mentioned it?”

you blinked, forcing a laugh that came out lighter than you felt. “nope. first i’m hearing about it.”

“really?” he questioned, his voice filled with surprise. “that’s so weird. i figured he told you right away.”

your chest tightened as possibilities tumbled over each other.

maybe he’d just forgotten. maybe it slipped his mind in the chaos of tour.

it wasn’t long before other possibilities pushed their way in; ones that you didn’t necessarily want to unpack.

maybe it wasn’t an accident. maybe he didn’t want you there.

maybe he already planned on showing up with someone else; someone who wouldn’t spend the whole night throwing his own rules back at him.

the thoughts knotted tighter the longer you stood there.

against your better judgement, your gaze slipped back towards the stage.

he was already looking at you.

the smile he’d been wearing slipped the moment he registered your expression, his eyes darting to the phone pressed to your ear before settling back on your face.

his brows pulled together, worry flickering across his face. his eyes stayed on yours like he wanted answers, but the track carried on, pulling his focus back to rehearsal.

the moment his attention shifted, you let a breath and steadied your voice.

“guess not,” you said into the phone, leaning back against the wall, twirling the drawstring of your hoodie between your fingers. “but if you want me there, i’ll come.”

“of course i want you there,” seunghyun said easily. “what kind of party would it be without you?”

the tightness in your chest eased, just a little. “smooth,” you let out a laugh, quiet but real. “you always talk like that, or is this special treatment?”

“only for you,” he teased. “seriously though, the boys miss you. i miss you. it won’t be the same if you’re not there.”

you rolled your eyes, though the smile tugging at your mouth gave you away. “fine. only because you asked so nicely.”

“nicely? rookie, that was me begging,” he laughed. “don’t let it go to your head, though.”

“too late,” you teased. “what’s the dress code anyway? do i have to match you guys or something?”

“as long as it’s a costume, you’re fine,” he said easily. “though sexy is always a bonus.” he added with a grin you could practically hear through the line.

your laugh slipped out before you could stop it. “a bonus for who, exactly?” you teased, raising your brows even though he couldn’t see you.

“for everyone,” he replied without missing a beat. “but let’s be real—we all know you’re ji’s girl.”

you huffed out a laugh, heat creeping up your neck. “i am not his girl.”

“uh oh,” seunghyun jumped in right away, dragging it out like he’d been waiting for this. “sounds like somebody’s mad she didn’t get the invite straight from him.”

your mouth fell open, a laugh slipping out of you. “i’m not mad!”

“sure,” he teased, voice smug. “you’re practically foaming at the mouth.”

“okay, okay,” you shook your head, grinning despite yourself. “maybe i am a little annoyed, but that still doesn’t make me his girl.”

“sure, sure,” he said easily. “so if you’re not his girl, that means you’re fair game, right?”

“fair game for who? you?” you questioned, already knowing what his answer would be.

“obviously,” he responded without hesitation, the grin in his voice unmistakable. “i’m taller, cooler, less bossy. i’d never make you follow dumb rules.”

your laugh burst out before you could stop it. “that’s literally what i said! i told him months ago that you were the deluxe version!”

seunghyun broke into full laughter on the other end, so loud you had to pull the phone back a little. “no way. you actually said that to his face?”

“of course i did,” you said, grinning as you pinched the bridge of your nose. “he looked like he wanted to strangle me.”

“oh my god,” seunghyun managed between laughs. “this is why i love you.”

“careful,” you warned, biting back another laugh. “say stuff like that and people might actually believe it.”

“good, let ‘em.” he shot back, still chuckling. “see you at the party, rookie.”

you shook your head, smiling as you said your goodbye and ended the call.

when you glanced back toward the stage, jiyong’s eyes were already on you, once again.

the confusion from earlier hadn’t gone anywhere. if anything, it was sharper now; threaded with something you couldn’t quite name.

you forced a small smile in his direction, hoping it was enough to smooth over whatever he thought he saw.

his mouth twitched like he wanted to return it, but the music pulled him forward before he could.

you slipped your phone into your pocket and headed for the dressing room, not bothering to stay through the rest of rehearsal.

the couch welcomed you like it knew the weight you carried, the soft cushions swallowing you as you tugged your hood up and leaned back.

the ache in your chest clung on, quiet but insistent, no matter how many times you told yourself you didn’t care.

the door cracked open a little while later, the hinges giving the faintest groan before it shut again.

before you could even look up, his voice cut through the silence.

“who called you?” he asked, steady on the surface, though the edge underneath gave him away.

your head snapped up. “seriously?” you shot back, hood still tugged over half your face. “so it’s fine for you to keep secrets, but i have to give you a play-by-play of every call i get?”

his mouth opened, then closed again, confusion flickering across his face. “what are you talking about? i just—i wanted to know—”

“it was seunghyun,” you cut him off, a little sharper than you intended.

he stilled mid-step. “…okay?” he tried, cautious. “why’s he calling you though?”

you tilted your head, feigning confusion. “why wouldn’t he?”

he blinked, caught off guard. “i mean, he doesn’t usually—he could’ve just…i don’t know—” his words tangled, shoulders shifting like he couldn’t quite find his footing.

you didn’t bother answering. instead, you sank deeper into the couch and unlocked your phone, scrolling like the conversation was over.

his brows knit, confusion tugging at his features as he watched you ignore him. “…what did he want?” he asked finally, the caution in his voice making it clear he was still trying to figure out what he’d walked into.

you hummed like you had to think about it, eyes still on your screen. “oh, nothing important,” you said at last, casual enough to sting. “just wanted to know if i was coming to the halloween party.”

he froze. “…the party? in seoul?”

you finally looked up, gaze sharp. “yeah. apparently everyone knew about it—well, everyone except me.”

his mouth parted, words stumbling out before he could shape them. “i was gonna tell you. i just…things have been—”

“don’t say crazy,” you cut in, tossing your phone aside. “don’t say busy, either. we spend every waking moment together, and somehow i’m the last to know? come on, ji. that’s not an accident.”

“i didn’t think—” he started, shifting his weight like he couldn’t decide whether to step toward you or back off.

you let out a sharp, humorless laugh, pressing a hand to your forehead. “yeah, no kidding. do you know how embarrassing that was? him sounding shocked, like, ‘yah, you’re joking, right?’ and i’m standing there looking like an idiot because you ‘didn’t think.’”

his jaw clenched, teeth pressing together hard. “you’re not an idiot. you know i don’t see you that way.”

“then explain it,” you fired back, your chest tightening. “because either you didn’t want me there, or you already planned on taking someone else. which one is it?”

“it’s neither,” he bit out, the pitch of his voice rising before he forced it lower again. “you’re twisting it—”

“i’m not twisting anything!” you snapped. “if i mattered, you would’ve told me. it’s as simple as that.”

his mouth opened, and quickly shut again, like he couldn’t line up a defense. “it wasn’t about that,” he managed finally. “i wasn’t hiding it from you.”

“right,” you muttered, arms crossing tight. “funny how seunghyun thought to ask me, though. at least he thought i was worth telling.”

his expression faltered, your words hitting him harder than you meant them to. “…so what? now seunghyun cares more about you than i do?” his voice rose, sharper than before. “that’s not fair.”

“what’s not fair,” you argued, heat rising in your chest, “is you making me feel like some afterthought. you knew for weeks, ji. weeks! and you said nothing. but god forbid i get a phone call when you aren’t around—and suddenly i have to explain myself?!”

his brows pulled together, confusion twisting into something tighter. “that’s not what this is—”

“isn’t it?” you asked, leaning forward. “you get to make all the rules, pretend like you don’t want me too close, but the second someone else gives me the bare minimum of attention, you’re looking at me like i’ve done something wrong!”

something in him cracked at that, his jaw tightening before his face shifted; hurt flashing first, frustration chasing close behind. “jesus, do you even hear yourself? you’re acting so childish—”

you froze, breath catching sharp in your chest. “childish,” you echoed, soft but trembling underneath, like you couldn’t quite believe he’d actually said it.

it wasn’t just his words that stung; it was what they implied.

you’d always believed he looked past the years between you, that he saw you standing beside him rather than behind.

the thought had been a comfort, something you clung to in the quiet moments when the gap felt too wide. now, it pressed against your ribs like a bruise, leaving you feeling much smaller than ever before.

regret washed over his face so fast it almost looked painful. “wait—no, that’s not what i meant,” he rushed, words tripping over themselves. “i didn’t mean it like that, i just—”

you let out a short, bitter laugh, shaking your head as you grabbed your bag. “don’t bother. you clearly meant it enough to say it.”

he moved toward you, hands half-raised, like he could undo it if he just explained fast enough. “y/n, please, i didn’t—”

“save it,” you cut him off, yanking the strap over your shoulder. your voice cracked once before you forced it steady. “if that’s how you see me, then fine. but i’m not gonna sit here and be talked down to by the same guy who can’t even decide what he wants from me.”

he flinched, almost like you’d hit him, but you didn’t give him the chance to recover.

“get someone else to take your stupid fucking pictures tonight,” you added, brushing past him hard enough that your shoulder clipped his.

he was on your heels the second you reached the door. “you can’t just leave—you’re working—”

you didn’t so much as look back. “then fire me,” you snapped, the words flung over your shoulder as the door slammed hard against the frame.

you tugged your hood further down your forehead as you walked, hoping the shadow it casted was enough to hide the sting in your eyes.

the door behind you flew open almost instantly. “y/n!” his voice ripped down the hall, cracked and desperate, almost like he thought sheer volume might drag you back.

his footsteps followed quickly behind you, each one hitting the floor harder than the last, until they cut short in a scuffle.

“jiyong,” jaeho’s voice came firm, his grip closing tight around jiyong’s arm.

“let me go!” jiyong roared, twisting against him, his voice breaking as he shouted again. “y/n! please!”

heads turned as you passed, a hundred questions written across their faces. curiosity, pity, judgment; all of it clung to your skin with a weight you couldn’t quite shake.

you didn’t give any of them the satisfaction of meeting their eyes, choosing to fix your stare on the floor instead, praying that if you just kept moving, they’d eventually look away.

behind you, jaeho’s voice cut through the noise, steady and immovable. “enough, ji. don’t make this worse.”

“i said let me go!” jiyong’s voice broke, rough with desperation as jaeho dragged him back.

his shoes scraped hard against the floor, fists jerking like he still thought he could fight his way free, but the older man’s grip didn’t budge.

your name ripped out of him one last time, echoing down the corridor, before the door closed behind them and cut the sound in half.

by the time you reached your hotel room, your phone had been buzzing non-stop in your hand with calls and text messages; everything lighting up the screen faster than you could swipe it away.

the moment the door shut behind you, you let your bag fall wherever it landed and threw yourself face-first onto the bed.

the mattress dipped hard under your weight as you buried your face into the comforter, a muffled sound ripping out of you before you could swallow it back.

you kicked your feet once, twice, sharp little bursts of frustration that made the bed jolt.

your phone wouldn’t stop, the vibration rattling against the nightstand like it was mocking you. you didn’t even have to look to know who it was.

you rolled onto your side, arm flopping out blindly until your fingers found the screen. the messages blurred together as they filled the display.

jiyong: where are you??

jiyong: i’m sorry.

jiyong: i didn’t mean it like that.

jiyong: please answer me.

the screen lit up again before you could even finish reading through all of the messages, his name flashing across the top.

you declined the call without a second thought and tossed your phone face-down onto the bed, but it wouldn’t stop; buzzing again and again, as if he wasn’t going to stop until you finally caved.

it went on for what felt like hours, breaking only when he was pulled onstage. for a while, there was quiet; long enough for you to almost believe he’d finally given up.

but after the show, it started again. call after call, message after message, each one more frantic than the last.

the only pause came when you realized he wasn’t on the other end of your phone anymore, but on the other side of your door.

first, it was his voice; low and hoarse from the night, coaxing, apologizing, begging you to just say something.

when that got no response, everything went quiet.

no more calls flashing across your screen. no more words piling up in bubbles you refused to open.

the silence should have been a relief, but it wasn’t. it pressed in heavy, filling the room until it was impossible to ignore.

he was still there; you could feel it, as if his presence seeped through the walls, steady and unrelenting, a quiet vow that he wasn’t leaving.

you lasted only a few minutes on the bed before the pull became too much. eventually, your steps carried you across the room, slow and unwilling, until you sank down in front the door.

you didn’t make a sound. you couldn’t. you didn’t want him to know you were there. still, being this close, separated by only a sliver of distance, dulled the ache just enough to let you breathe.

at some point, exhaustion pulled you under. you stayed curled against the door, cheek pressed to your knees. the position was uncomfortable, but the faint comfort of knowing he was still there on the other side kept you from moving.

when you opened your eyes again, morning light was already seeping past the curtains. the knock that came wasn’t his this time, but staff, reminding you that it was almost time to leave for the flight back to seoul.

the rest of the morning blurred. you packed without thinking, every motion stiff and mechanical, your chest still heavy from the night before.

he didn’t knock again. didn’t try to stop you in the hall. didn’t say another word.

still, you felt him. in the car to the airport, on the walk through the terminal, even on the plane.

his eyes lingered, his gaze thick with regret, but you gave him nothing; keeping your attention locked on everything but him.

by the time you landed back in seoul, the weight of everything hadn’t lifted. if anything, it only grew heavier when the terminal doors opened and the chaos flooded in.

cameras. voices. fans pressed shoulder to shoulder. flashes of light cutting across your vision.

you stayed back instinctively, your hand already reaching for your phone. “i’ll call someone to come get me,” you told jaeho quietly, in an attempt to avoid jiyong all together.

but before jaeho could answer, jiyong was already there.

his arm hooked over your shoulders, pulling you in tight, his hand steady at the back of your head to shield you from the swarm of bodies and flashing lights.

“i don’t care how mad you are at me,” he said, voice rough but steady against the noise. “i’m not leaving you alone in the middle of this airport.”

his words left no room for argument.

every step he took angled your body into his, his hold a shield against the swarm of fans and cameras until the car door finally closed, cutting off the noise.

his arm slipped reluctantly from your shoulders, the heat of his palm still lingering at the back of your head.

you leaned towards the window, eyes fixed on the blur of lights, even as you felt him watching you.

he stayed quiet for a long moment, head bowed, before finally speaking. “i should’ve told you,” he said, voice rough. “about the party. about all of it. you deserved to hear it from me.”

you exhaled sharply, your forehead pressing against the glass. “yeah. i did.”

his hand dragged over his mouth, restless. “it wasn’t on purpose. i wasn’t hiding it. i just…kept putting it off, and suddenly it was too late.”

your head tilted toward him, eyes narrowing. “too late? ji, we spend every minute together. you had a hundred chances to tell me. you just didn’t.”

he flinched, guilt flickering clear across his face. “i know. and i’m sorry. i hate that i made you feel like you didn’t matter.”

your throat tightened, words catching before you forced them out. “it’s not just this, though. it’s those stupid fucking rules. you set the boundaries, not me. and i’ve tried to respect them, i really have. but you’re always the one breaking them—” you cut yourself off, shaking your head.

his chest rose with a shaky breath. “i know it’s not fair. i don’t mean to confuse you. i just…” he stopped, searching. “i don’t know how to want you without risking everything. but i don’t know how to stop wanting you, either.”

you turned fully then, your eyes locking on his. “i can handle the risk. what i can’t handle is feeling like an afterthought, or like this is something you can switch on and off whenever it scares you.”

his gaze broke first, dropping to his lap. he sat there for a long beat, jaw tight, like he wanted to argue but couldn’t find a single word that didn’t make it worse.

“you’re not an afterthought,” he said finally, his voice low and raw. “you’re the only thing i ever think about.”

“if you really mean that, then prove it,” you spoke quietly, the fight finally slipping out of your voice, “stop making me feel like i’m something you have to resist.”

he nodded once, slow, like the weight of your words landed heavy in his head. his fingers tapped restlessly against his knee, the silence thick between you.

“are you still going tomorrow?” he asked after a pause, cautious, almost like he was bracing himself for the answer.

your arms folded across your chest. “yeah. i told seunghyun i’d be there.”

his head turned, eyes sharp even in the dark. “what are you wearing?”

you leaned back toward the window, a faint smile tugging at your lips even as your chest tightened. “you’ll find out tomorrow.”

you hadn’t spoken to him since.

after everything that was said in the car, you thought he might reach out. a knock at your door. a half-hearted excuse. maybe even a real apology, if he was feeling brave.

instead, there was silence.

you didn’t let it bother you. at least, not enough to let it ruin tonight.

the bow tie was still loose around your neck when your phone lit up on the counter. the buzz carried through the quiet hum of the bathroom, breaking your focus for just a moment.

seunghyun: car’s downstairs. told the guys you’d be on time. don’t embarrass me, rookie.

your mouth curved, soft at the edges.

you clipped the bow tie into place, fingertips brushing over the satin until it rested perfectly against your skin. it was the smallest part of the costume, but somehow it pulled everything together.

you wouldn’t be a real playboy bunny without it.

the rest of the outfit framed it perfectly; a black corset pulled snug at your waist, a skirt so short it felt more like suggestion than fabric, fishnets mapping clean lines over your legs, and heels that raised you three inches higher than you were used to.

you picked the ears up from your dresser and settled the band over your hair, nudging it into place with careful fingers.

your eyes lingered on the mirror longer than you meant them to, and the longer you stared, the easier it was to let the confidence sink in.

a small smile curved at your mouth before you finally turned away, slipping your phone into your purse and pulling the strap over your shoulder as you walked out of your apartment.

by the time you reached seunghyun’s house, the front steps were scattered with people in costume; some smoking, some laughing, most of them unfamiliar.

a few faces stood out, ones you’d grown up idolizing, but that didn’t make walking through them any easier.

you slipped your phone from your purse and opened jiyong’s chat without thinking. it was a habit by now; texting him the moment you arrived, knowing he’d meet you outside so you wouldn’t have to walk in alone.

but when you opened the thread, there was still nothing waiting.

your thumb hovered for a moment, but you didn’t type anything. he hadn’t said a word all day, and you were definitely not about to be the one to change that.

with a quiet sigh, you backed out of the thread and opened the group chat instead.

y/n: i’m here.

you tucked yourself against the edge of the front steps, just outside the swirl of bodies moving in and out of the house.

daesung: omg finally!!!

youngbae: door’s open, just come in.

your eyes flicked towards the entrance, catching flashes of movement and loud voices as more strangers pushed through the door.

y/n: i’m not walking in alone. absolutely not.

y/n: i think someone just barked at me???

y/n: i’m too sober for this.

you shifted your weight from one heel to the other as you waited for a reply.

daesung: bark back and assert your dominance.

a laugh slipped out before you could stop it. you shook your head, already typing a comeback when another message popped up.

seunghyun: i’ll come get you, scaredy cat.

the door cracked open a moment later, and seunghyun stepped into view dressed in dark jeans, a fitted tee, and a worn cowboy hat that somehow made too much sense on him. he spotted you insantly, that same easy grin lighting up his face.

“i guess you’re not a scaredy cat,” he called out as he strolled toward you, “you’re a scaredy bunny, apparently.”

you groaned. “i hate you.”

“no, you don’t,” he said, stopping a few feet in front of you. his gaze dragged from your heels to your collarbone with no real attempt at subtlety. “rookie, what the hell are you wearing?”

“what?” you looked up at him, feigning innocence. “you don’t like it?”

he let out a short laugh. “i didn’t say that.” he leaned back slightly, giving you another once-over, slower this time. “you look really hot, actually.”

you rolled your eyes, trying not to smile as you crossed your arms over your chest. “you’re ridiculous.”

“says the girl in ears and a bowtie,” he shot back, still keeping his eyes locked on you. “you really went full playboy, huh?”

you smirked. “you sound surprised.”

“i’m not.” he said, head tilting just slightly. “i’m honestly impressed. you might’ve just saved halloween showing up like this.”

you bit your lip, fighting back a laugh. “oh my god.”

“i’m serious.” he gestured vaguely down your body. “i should’ve brought you one of those little trays. you could be walking around with shots on it right now. men would be on their knees.”

“you would be too, don’t kid yourself,” you said, poking at his chest.

he held up his hands in mock surrender. “i never said i wouldn’t be.”

your eyes flicked to the drink in his hand, and without a word, you plucked it from his fingers and knocked it back like it was yours to begin with.

“unbelievable,” he said, watching you with a mix of disbelief and amusement. “do you ever get your own drinks?”

you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, smug. “why would i? yours always taste better.”

he shook his head, laughing under his breath. “you’re actually the worst,” he muttered, nudging you gently with his elbow. “come on, bunny. we’re getting you your own drink before you rob anyone else.”

you let him lead the way, following closely as he pulled the front door open. the air shifted instantly; thick with heat and sound, the bass pulsing through the floorboards like a second heartbeat.

bodies pressed in from every side, voices echoing down the hall as the party spilled deeper into the house.

you hooked your fingers lightly around his arm without thinking, just to stay close. he didn’t seem to mind. if anything, he shifted a little, making room for you as you moved through the crowd together.

“is jiyong here?” you asked, ducking your head toward him so only he could hear.

he glanced sideways, raising an eyebrow. “what, you miss him already?”

you shot him a look. “don’t be annoying.”

his mouth twitched like he was trying not to laugh. “he’s here,” he said, way too pleased with himself.

your brows pulled in. “why do you sound like that?”

“i don’t sound like anything,” he said, way too quickly.

you narrowed your eyes, but he was already steering you towards the kitchen.

“you’re gonna need this,” he muttered, grabbing a glass off the counter and filling it without waiting for your input.

“what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” you asked, giving him a look.

he didn’t answer. just turned, lifted the drink towards your mouth, and tilted it ever so slightly until you had no choice but to take a sip.

“trust me,” he added, fingers still wrapped lightly around the glass. “you’ll thank me later.”

you swallowed, eyeing him over the rim as he finally let go. “you’re actually insufferable, sometimes.”

“probably,” he said, already nudging you out of the kitchen. “but you’re about to be real glad i did that.”

you didn’t get a chance to ask what he meant by that.

the music pulsed heavier as you followed him down the hall, the crowd thinning just enough to move without bumping into every person in your path.

still, the occasional shoulder grazed yours, causing you to tighten your hold around seunghyun’s arm for balance.

“they’re over there,” seunghyun said, tipping his chin towards a cluster of couches near the window.

you spotted them just as they spotted you.

“finally,” daesung called, already pushing to his feet. “what took you so long?!”

youngbae stood too, a grin spreading across his face as his eyes flicked over you. “rookie, you look insane,” he said, pulling you into a quick hug before you could even answer. “definitely worth the wait.”

“seunghyun made me stop for a drink,” you answered as daesung pulled you in for a hug of his own.

this side of the living room was a little calmer. the smoke still hung in the air, curling lazily toward the ceiling, but it wasn’t as dense. the music bled in from the hallway, bass heavy and slow, muffled just enough to make voices easier to hear.

groups of people lounged across the couches, plastic cups balanced on their knees or cradled in their hands. the lighting here was low and violet-toned, soft enough that everyone looked a little hazy around the edges.

daesung leaned back, still grinning as he looked you over. “wait, where’s your drink?” he asked, glancing at your empty hand.

you shrugged. “finished it already.”

“damn,” he laughed, reaching behind him to grab another off the low table. “guess that means this one's yours now.”

you took it before he could change his mind, raising it in mock salute. “you’re a good man, dae.”

“i try,” he said, flashing a grin.

youngbae hadn’t taken his eyes off you. his head tilted, gaze narrowing a little like he was trying to line something up in his mind.

“wait,” he started, the words dragging out slowly as he glanced over his shoulder. “did you and—”

“yo, ji!” someone shouted from one of the couches beside you. “one of your little bunnies are here!”

the words sliced right through the loud music, causing a few heads to turn your way; including his.

he shifted from where he was standing and turned towards the noise, a lowball glass dangling from his fingers.

the movement was casual until his eyes landed on you.

everything around him seemed to blur out. the smoke, the music, even the girl standing beside him. none of it mattered anymore.

his fingers tightened slightly around the glass in his hand, but he didn’t move. not right away.

he just stared, eyes dragging down the length of you like he didn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

“oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you muttered, eyes drifting over the silk robe slung low over his shoulders, the dark shirt half-unbuttoned beneath it, and the pipe on the table next to him.

he was dressed as hugh hefner. of course he was.

beside you, seunghyun’s low laugh was almost a whisper. “told you you’d need a drink,” he muttered, his mouth close to your ear.

you lifted your drink to your lips in acknowledgment, taking a slow slip as if that might dull the heat crawling up the back of your neck.

he still hadn’t looked away.

for a second, you thought maybe he wouldn’t move.

maybe he’d stay exactly where he was; frozen in place, trying to blink you into something less dangerous.

but the moment the alcohol touched your tongue, he took a slow step forward, then another, weaving between shoulders and couches like nothing else in the room existed.

he stopped a few steps in front of you, not quite close enough to touch. his gaze dragged over your outfit again, much slower this time, before returning to your face.

“you made it,” he said, a faint smile tugging at his mouth.

you gave the smallest nod, not knowing how to respond to him.

“you look…” he started, only to trail off mid-thought.

“smoking hot,” daesung offered casually.

“drop-dead gorgeous,” youngbae chimed in with a grin.

“absolutely lethal,” seunghyun added, deadpan.

jiyong exhaled, jaw flexing once before he finally cracked a smile. “yeah,” he said, nodding slightly. “that.”

you tilted your head the slightest bit, letting the silence stretch before answering.

jiyong flicked a look at the boys, not subtle in the slightest, a silent order to give the two of you space.

to your surprise, they actually listened, peeling off towards the kitchen with the worst attempt at casual you’d ever seen.

“you look good too,” you said, voice deceptively light. “hugh hefner, though? really?”

his lips twitched, eyes flicking down for a second. “wasn’t my idea.”

“sure it wasn’t,” you replied, arms loosely crossed over your chest. “it’s very on brand.”

he raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “how so?”

you took a slow step closer, your mouth curling at one corner. “old. rich. dramatic. craves attention…” you paused, leaning in just enough for only him to hear, “it’s all very g‑daddy of you.”

his body went still, so subtle anyone else would’ve missed it, but you caught it.

the flicker in his eyes. the way his breath dipped for half a second. how his grip on the glass tightened.

his tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek, eyes dragging over your mouth like he was already imagining it parted around his name.

“you’re not playing fair,” he said, voice rough.

“i’m not here to play,” you said softly. “you know that.”

he stepped closer. not quite touching, but close enough for you to feel the heat radiating off of him.

he let out a quiet, rough laugh, almost more breath than sound. “you’re gonna be a fucking problem tonight.”

you didn’t flinch. instead, you lifted your chin, eyes locked on his like you were daring him to do something about it.

the space between you barely existed now; one breath, one slip, and you’d fall right into him.

“funny,” you murmured, voice low and deliberate, your words curling between you like smoke. “i thought that’s what you liked about me.”

his eyes darkened instantly, like you’d hit a nerve he’d been trying to keep buried.

he leaned in just enough that your noses nearly brushed, voice low enough to vibrate through your chest.

“i like a lot of things about you,” he said, each word thick with restraint. “but that mouth might be my favourite.”

his voice rolled through you, low and deliberate, like it knew exactly where to land.

your body reacted before your mind caught up; heat curling in your stomach, a slow throb of want that settled deep in your bones.

you smothered it before any of it could reach the surface.

your lashes lifted with calculated ease, gaze locking on his like you were reading every filthy thought behind his eyes, and choosing not to act on a single one.

you lifted your drink with slow, measured simplicity, letting the rim graze the edge of his skin on the way up; a fleeting, but deliberate touch.

his muscles tightened in response, subtle but unmistakable, like the slip of control had caught him off guard.

you tipped it back and finished the rest in one long swallow, allowing him to watch the movement of your throat.

his gaze tracked every shift — your lips, the curve of your neck, the rise and fall of your chest — devouring you without the slightest hint of shame.

when the glass came down, your lips were damp, parted, and just inches away from his.

you didn’t move. neither did he.

his eyes lingered on your mouth for a beat too long, almost like he was weighing the consequences of closing the gap between you, or maybe fantasizing about all of the ways he could make you beg for it first.

“i’m gonna get a refill.” your words brushed his mouth more than his ear, soft enough to be mistaken for a promise.

you stepped past him slowly, your fingers skimming the back of his hand.

before you disappeared into the crowd, you looked back once, shoulder turned, eyes gleaming with something that wasn’t quite innocent.

“try not to miss me too much,” you added sweetly, with a smile sharp enough to draw blood.

you didn’t wait for his reaction.

the crowd swallowed you in seconds; music pulsing, bodies everywhere, and heat pressed from all directions, but none of it compared to what you’d just walked away from.

you didn’t make it far before familiar fingers wrapped around your wrist, halting you so abruptly your breath caught mid-step.

you didn’t have to look to know it was him.

his fingers tightened just enough to make you stop. heat rolled up your arm a second before his chest brushed your back, his breath ghosting the side of your neck like a warning.

“upstairs,” he said, low enough that only you could hear. “now.”

the words cracked through the noise, quiet but absolute. it wasn’t a request.

you felt the tug of his hand before your mind caught up. the crowd parted for him without a glance, his grip steady as he pulled you through it.

his hand stayed locked around yours as he cut through the party like it wasn’t even there. shoulders and cups brushed against you, a blur of faces and smoke, but no one tried to stop him.

your pulse matched the bass underfoot, hard and fast, even as the sound dimmed with every step up the stairs.

your heels barely hit the landing before he was unlocking the last door at the end of the hall; seunghyun’s in-home studio.

the room was dark, lit only by the faint glow of a red interface light.

you barely had time to register the space — the cluttered desk, the low hum from the equipment, the scent of wood polish and smoke still clinging to the walls — before his grip shifted.

his hand moved from your wrist to your waist, and in one smooth, unrelenting motion, he turned you.

your back hit the door hard enough to make it slam shut behind you; the sharp, echoing click of the latch sealing the room, and sealing you in it.

your gasp caught on his mouth before you even realized he was that close.

his hands bracketed your hips, wide and possessive, fingers digging in like he was daring you to move.

his chest pressed flush to yours, keeping you pinned with nothing more than his body and the heat rolling off of it.

he didn’t say a word. didn’t give you a second to breathe.

he kissed you like he was starving; the kind of kiss that knocked the breath right out of your lungs and left your knees weak.

you moaned against his mouth, a sound he swallowed eagerly, hands already sliding under your ass.

“jump,” his voice was low, wrecked, and demanding.

you obeyed without hesitation, legs wrapping around his waist, arms around his neck.

he caught you easily, palms spreading over the back of your thighs as he pressed you back against the door, like he needed every inch of you flush against him.

his mouth dragged down your jaw, hot and open, and your head hit the wood behind you, causing your bunny ears to fall to the floor without either of you even noticing.

“fuck,” you gasped, breath hitching when he rocked into you.

he was already hard, and already so far gone.

“you’re such a fucking tease,” he growled, biting lightly at your neck. “walking away from me like that—”

his hand slid up your side, fingers grazing the edge of the velvet corset. “—acting like you didn’t want me to do this.”

he didn’t wait for a response.

his hand gripped your waist, steady and hard, anchoring you in place as he rolled his hips into yours again, rougher this time, like he wanted to hear you break.

your breath caught, the moan slipping out before you could stop it.

“you wore this just to test me, didn’t you?” his breath was hot against your throat, teeth grazing your skin. “knew i wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you.”

your legs flexed tighter, forcing him closer. “don’t get too cocky now, kwon,” you whispered, nails dragging lightly along the back of his neck. “not everything is about you.”

he let out a short breath, eyes still fixed on yours like you were the only thing in the world.

“you’re right,” he said, voice rough and edged with amusement. “it’s about you.”

his hands slid higher, up your thighs and under the hem of your skirt.

he pressed you harder into the door with the weight of his body, growling something low and nearly incoherent when your fingers gripped onto the back of his hair.

“you’re really not gonna say anything now?” he muttered, voice wrecked and laughing against your jaw. “mouthy all night, but the second i touch you—”

your hand fisted his shirt, yanking him back to your mouth.

“shut up,” you breathed against his lips. “you talk too much.”

his laugh was low against your mouth, swallowed almost instantly by another kiss. this one was hungrier, his lips parting yours like he’d been waiting his whole life for this.

you met him with the same heat, nails still dragging along the back of his neck, pulling him closer until there was no space left to take.

his grip under your thighs tightened, lifting you higher with a sharp tug. your gasp spilled into his mouth, legs squeezing around his waist.

the shift tore your back from the door, your weight settling entirely into his arms as he carried you.

you barely realized where he was taking you until the edge of the desk pressed up against your hip.

his arm swept across the desk in one quick motion; monitors, mics, and cables crashing to the floor in a violent clatter. the sound rattled the room, sharp and jarring, but he didn’t flinch.

you jerked in his arms, laughing in disbelief. “holy shit, ji—” your voice broke on a gasp, eyes wide. “do you have any idea how much that shit costs?! it’s not even your—”

his mouth crashed against yours before you could finish.

the kiss was chaotic and hungry, his teeth catching your bottom lip before his tongue soothed the sting.

your laugh dissolved into a moan, hands clawing at his shoulders, pulling him closer even as you tried to catch your breath.

he pulled back just enough to smirk, lips brushing yours as he spoke. “you think i give a fuck about seunghyun’s shit? i could buy him a new studio by tomorrow,” his grip on your thighs was bruising, forcing you higher against him. “the only thing i care about right now is you.”

heat flickered low in your stomach, enough to shake your smugness for a beat. you pushed it down fast, tilting your chin like you still had the upper hand.

“mm,” you hummed, soft and teasing, though your pulse betrayed you. “that almost sounded sweet.”

his mouth twitched; not quite a smile, more like a warning. “almost?”

your lips curved, eyes glittering with defiance. “guess you’ll have to work harder if you want the full compliment.”

his laugh scraped low against your lips, rough enough to vibrate through your chest.

in the same breath, he shifted his hold, lowering you onto the desk in one smooth motion until the cold wood pressed into the backs of your thighs.

“is this how you’re gonna act all night?” he asked, eyes burning into yours.

“depends,” you murmured with a shrug, eyes gleaming.

his eyes narrowed, the amusement in them razor-sharp. “lay back.”

you stayed where you were, lips twitching like you might say no just to see what he’d do.

his grip slid higher on your thighs, fingers pressing hard enough to drag a gasp out of you. “i said lay back.”

the command rippled through you, leaving no room for argument.

still, you dragged it out, easing yourself down slowly across the desk, just to test him. the cool surface pressed into your back, your legs dangling until he pushed them higher, heels landing on the edge of the desk.

he crowded closer, breath hot against your mouth, hands prying your thighs wider until you couldn’t fight the heat pooling in between them. “that’s better.”

your laugh came out shaky, teasing, the sound skating along the tension. “bossy tonight.”

his mouth grazed your jaw, hot and claiming. “you like it.”

your pulse stuttered, the curve of your smile faltering slightly, but holding just enough to keep your game. “maybe i do, daddy.”

his head tilted, eyes narrowing like a predator catching movement in the dark. “you still think you’re in charge, huh?”

your smile only widened, the brat in you refusing to back down. “a little.”

his mouth hovered just above yours, his words scraping against your lips. “last time you thought you were in control, i made you beg. do you remember that, baby?”

your breath hitched, the memory flashing hot in your mind, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you crack. “vaguely,” you murmured, tone dripping with fake innocence.

“if you want to come tonight, you’re gonna behave,” he murmured, voice so calm it made your pulse stutter harder. “because if i even think you’re trying to play me again, i’ll keep this pretty pussy begging all night. you understand?”

your lips curled, smug even as your chest rose too fast. “i guess i’ll behave,” you murmured, tone feather-light like you were humoring him.

his eyes narrowed, the warning in them flickering darker. the grip at your waist shifted, palm sliding higher until his thumb brushed the edge of your corset.

“be good and say it right,” the words came out rough, scraping against your lips like a spark waiting to catch.

your pulse jumped, but you dragged it out, lashes lowering like you might make him wait. the look in his eyes warned you against it.

your throat worked once before you let the words slip out. “okay, daddy…i’ll behave.”

his approval roughened his voice, a shadow of a smirk tugging at his mouth. “good girl.”

his hands slid down the curve of your thighs until they hooked into the fishnets. the sound of fabric tearing split the air, harsh and unforgiving.

your eyes widened, a shocked laugh breaking free before dissolving into a shiver. “ji—” his name caught halfway between disbelief and a moan, your hips already lifting into his grip.

any thought of protest evaporated under the rush of heat roaming through your body, leaving nothing but want.

his hands didn’t hesitate. the ruined edges of the fishnets curled against your skin as he shoved your panties aside, his fingers sliding through the heat of you like he’d been waiting all night for it.

a ragged sound left your throat, sharp and needy, heels digging into the desk as your legs spread wider for him.

your skirt had already ridden up, bunched high on your hips, and the air felt cold against your bare skin compared to the burn of his touch.

he dragged his fingers over you again, slower this time, like he was remembering every slick inch before pressing two of them deep inside of you.

your back arched, a choked gasp breaking free, your head tipping back against the desk.

“fuck, daddy—” your voice cracked when his thumb circled your clit in a steady rythym. your heels scraped uselessly against the desk, the sharp click of them hitting wood echoing in the small room.

his gaze never wavered, locked on your face like he was memorizing every flicker of you unraveling. “look at you,” he rasped, voice low enough to scrape down your spine. “already so desperate for me.”

he bent without warning, dropping to his knees at the edge of the desk. his palms spread you wider, forcing your thighs open until the arch of your platform stilettos braced hard against his shoulders.

“keep ‘em there,” he ordered, gaze flicking up once. “don’t you dare move.”

you barely had time to nod before his mouth replaced his hand, tongue hot and unrelenting as it dragged through your folds.

the moan that ripped out of you was raw and shameless, hips jerking up into his face like you’d been waiting for this all night.

“oh fuck—daddy, oh my god,” your moans broke free like a plea, wrecked and unplanned, your heels digging into him harder as if you could lock him there.

his laugh vibrated against your clit, smug and rough all at once. “that’s it, baby. feels good, huh?”

your answer dissolved into a gasp. “y—yeah—”

he dragged his tongue once more through your slick before pulling back, the heat of his breath ghosting over you. his two fingers slid back inside, quick and deep, until your spine arched against the desk again.

“not yet,” he murmured, voice rough, his thumb still circling your clit without pause. “you don't come until i say.”

your nails scraped across the wood, the desk creaking under your grip. “daddy, i—” your voice broke into a moan. “i'm try—trying—”

“hold it,” he ordered, pace quickening, the wet sounds obscene in the small room. “you can take it, baby.”

your legs trembled around his shoulders, thighs taut, heels digging into his shoulders. “it’s—fuck—it’s too much—”

his gaze flicked up, steady and dark. “good. that's the point. stay with me.”

his fingers curled deep, pressing the same spot again and again, while his thumb continued its relentless motion on your clit.

“please” you gasped, chest heaving. “please, daddy, i can't—”

“yes, you can,” he snapped quietly, his rhythm never faltering. “don't you dare let go.”

your hips jerked anyway, your body betraying you. “i—i can't—oh god—”

“wait,” he said, calm as ever, while driving you harder into the desk. “you wait until i tell you.”

you shook your head, breath breaking into sobs of pleasure. “i can't hold it—”

the orgasm ripped through you before you could stop it, a sharp cry tearing from your throat as your whole body clenched around his fingers.

he didn't let up, dragging every tremor out of you until you were squirming under his hold.

when he finally pulled his hand free, slick glistening down his wrist, his eyes stayed locked on yours.

he stood slowly, the height difference suddenly overwhelming as he loomed over you, your back still pressed to the desk.

your chest heaved, every nerve still buzzing, the desk cool beneath your back.

he slid a hand beneath your back and pressed firmly, coaxing you upright.

your legs wobbled as he guided you to your feet, stilettos clicking unsteadily against the floor. your body leaned into his without thinking, still weak from the force of your release.

his palm came up to your jaw, firm but not rough, tilting your face until you couldn’t look anywhere but at him. “you didn’t listen,” he said, voice even and unshaken. “you told me you’d behave. you lied.”

your throat tightened, the sting of his words hitting harder than his touch. “i’m so—sorry,” you breathed, shaky and soft. “i didn’t mean—”

he cut you off with his mouth, the kiss rough and punishing. you gasped against him, tasting yourself there; the filthy reminder making your body jolt with a mixture of shame and want.

“sorry doesn't fix it,” he said evenly. “you lied to me. and now you don't get a thing until you earn it.”

before you could reply, he spun you in his grip and bent you forwards, pressing you down against the desk until your cheek met the wood.

your skirt bunched higher at your hips, fishnets torn wide between your thighs, but his hands left you there — completely untouched.

the silence dragged, your pulse pounding loud in your ears. you shifted your hips back, searching for him. "really?" you muttered, breathless but taunting. "you're just gonna make me stand here like this?"

"that's exactly what i'm gonna do," he said, voice low at your ear. "until you remember how to be a good girl and beg properly."

your stomach twisted, heat pulsing low. you had begged before, exactly the way he liked it, and you knew that's what he was waiting for.

still, the stubbornness in you didn’t let up. “i thought you liked it when i misbehaved, daddy,” you said, words edged with a shaky laugh.

his hand pressed between your shoulder blades, firm enough to make your chest flatten against the desk. "don't play dumb. you know better."

your lip caught between your teeth, pride buckling under the ache between your legs. "please," you breathed. "please, daddy..."

"not good enough." his tone sharpened, the grip at your back unrelenting. "say it right."

you squeezed your eyes shut, humiliation and want tangling hot in your chest. "please, daddy, please fuck me. i need you—need your cock. i'll be good, i swear."

his breath ghosted over your ear, voice low and rough. “there we go, that’s more like it,” he murmured, using his foot to nudge your legs a little further apart. “good job, baby.”

you barely had time to breathe before the rasp of his zipper filled the silence.

he stepped in close, pressing the thick head of his cock against the mess between your thighs, dragging it slow along your slick folds just to hear you whimper.

“are you gonna behave now, hm?” he asked, voice still even but edged with threat. “be a good girl?”

“yes—” your answer broke into a moan as your hips rolled back without permission. “yes, daddy, please—”

his fingers dug into your hip, pinning you still. “i didn’t say you could move.”

your breath hitched, your cheek still pressed to the desk, hands clawing at the edge. “i’m sorry—”

he lined himself up at your entrance, one hand sliding to the back of your neck, holding you down, the other still gripping your hip. “stay right here, baby.”

before you could catch your breath, he drove into you with one hard push, burying himself to the hilt in a single thrust. the sudden stretch tore a cry from your throat, the sound splintering as it left you.

“oh—my god—” the words stumbled out, raw and uneven, caught between shock and the rush of pleasure.

he gave you no time to recover, driving his hips forward in a ruthless rhythm, every thrust slamming you harder against the desk.

“daddy—fuck—too much—too—” the fragments tumbled after, broken and desperate, every syllable dragged from you in pieces.

your breath came in sharp gasps, eyes fluttering shut as you tried to adjust to the sudden intrusion.

he didn't allow you the chance to catch your breath, setting a punishing pace that had the desk creaking beneath you. “fuck, you're so tight,” he grunted, fingers digging into your hips hard enough to leave marks. “you like it rough, huh?”

you could only moan in response, your body stretching to accommodate him.

every thrust sent sparks of pleasure racing up your spine, your walls clenching around his thick length.

he leaned over you, hot breath ghosting over your ear. “that's it, baby. take my cock like the good girl you are.”

his words sent a shiver down your spine, your toes curling in your heels. you arched your back, pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts.

“please—” the word tore from your throat, high and uneven. “please, daddy—i—oh fuck,”

he pulled out slow, almost to the tip, drawing a shudder from you, then slammed back in hard enough to skid your palms across the desk.

a broken moan escaped you, catching on a sob.

“you’re going to take every inch,” he murmured, his thrusts steady and brutal, “and stay right here until you’re shaking for me. understand?”

“y-yes—” your answer cracked into another moan. “yes, daddy, i understand—”

he let out on a rough exhale, the sound laced with possession. “that’s my girl.”

he didn’t falter, every thrust deliberate, drawing you higher, winding you tighter with a rhythm that left no room to breathe.

each stroke carried an intent you couldn’t escape, knowing exactly what your body would cling to, what would push you closer and closer to the edge.

“daddy, please,” you gasped, voice breaking under the strain. “i'm so close—please, let me—”

his fingers clamped harder into your hips, his answer a rough growl. “not yet. you lost it too soon last time—this time, you hold it.”

your breath stuttered, head shaking. “i can't—i can't hold it—”

“yes, you can,” he cut in, steady and unrelenting. “be good for me. prove that you know how listen, and maybe i’ll let you come.”

a helpless whine tumbled out from your lips, your whole body trembling, trying to hold back the unrelenting pressure of pleasure.

“that's it,” his voice rasped, rough but laced with praise. “you can do it, my girl.”

his rhythm faltered, breath catching, every word strained with control.

“now,” he growled, sharp and final. “now you can—come for me, baby.”

you broke with a cry, nails scraping the desk as your legs gave out slightly beneath you.

his groan followed, low and guttural against your back, his grip holding you firm as he drove through the last waves of his release, leaving nothing but the sound of the two of you unraveling together.

for a long moment, neither of you moved. the bass from the party was still thudding through the floorboards, but it was too faint to belong to the world you were in now.

he pulled out of you with a rough exhale, causing you to hiss at the sudden loss; your body still raw from the intensity of it all.

his hand moved quickly, tugging your underwear back into place, the torn fishnets stretched clumsily over the evidence he’d left behind.

it wasn’t a careful gesture, but more like a claim; a quiet way of keeping you his, even in the smallest details.

he let you go just long enough to yank his pants back into place, the harsh scrape of the zipper cutting through the muffled bass that rattled up from downstairs.

before you could move, his hand was on you again, gripping tightly at your hip like he had no intention of letting you go twice.

“we’re leaving. now.” he said, each word bitten off like he could barely hold them back.

you blinked, still bent against the desk, a laugh bubbling out of you, light and mocking. “leaving? we’ve been up here, what—twenty minutes? the boys are gonna wonder why hugh hefner disappeared with his bunny so fast.”

“let them wonder. i don’t give a fuck.” his words came fast, urgent, like he couldn’t get them out quick enough. “i can’t stand another second of this party, not with you like this. i need you out of here. with me.”

you pushed yourself upright on unsteady legs, turning to face him, your body swaying until you were pressed flush against his, the air between you gone before you even realized it.

“what if i say i want to go back downstairs? grab a drink, dance a little?” you teased, testing just how far you could push him when he was already strung so tight.

“always running that mouth,” he muttered, his breath brushing yours, eyes burning into you as he shakes his head. “trouble. you’re nothing but trouble.”

the laugh slipped out of you instantly, soft and breathless against his lips, your smirk curling as you tipped your chin higher. “mm, but you can’t get enough of it, can you, daddy?” you murmured, daring him to deny it.

his grip tightened, dragging you even closer, your chest pressed hard against his. his reply came fast, every syllable pronounced like he was hanging on by a thread. “you’re right—i can’t. that’s why we’re leaving.”

you opened your mouth to argue, or maybe to make another smart comment, but paused when he took a single step back.

without a word, his hands moved to the collar of his robe, sliding it from his shoulders in one slow, practiced motion.

“ji,” you started, confused, “what are you—”

he stepped in close again, though something in him had shifted.

the intensity that had driven every touch just minutes ago had softened; melted into something quieter, like the hush that follows a storm.

he reached for you without a word, settling the silk robe over your shoulders with a touch so careful it made your chest ache. his fingers ghosted along your collarbone as he adjusted it, smoothing the fabric down like he never wanted to let you go.

“covering you up,” he murmured like it was obvious. “your skirt’s riding up, and your tights are…” he let the sentence trail off with a breath. “yeah.”

you laughed, shaking your head at the memory of him aggressively ripping them a few moments ago. “and whose fault is that?”

his eyes met yours, something softer flickering behind the usual fire. “mine,” he said simply. “that’s why i’m fixing it.”

the robe was warm from his body, smooth against your skin, smelling faintly like cologne and something expensive you couldn’t quite name.

it settled heavily over your shoulders; not in weight, but in meaning.

you turned around, the fabric shifting with you, and spotted something of yours that was left on the floor earlier.

your bunny ears.

you walked towards the door and picked them up, turning back to him with a grin. “since i’m taking your clothes,” you said lightly, holding the ears up between you, “it’s only fair.”

before he could protest, you reached up and placed them on his head, adjusting them with exaggerated care.

he blinked at you, bunny ears crooked on his head, looking both ridiculous and completely unbothered.

“seriously?” he asked under his breath, shaking his head with the faintest smile.

you smiled, leaning up without thinking to brush a soft kiss against his cheek. “you love it,” you whispered, just close enough for him to hear.

his grin came boyish and lopsided, like he knew you were right and had no intention of pretending otherwise.

his hand found yours a moment later, fingers lacing tight with a grip that carried more urgency than words ever could.

“let’s go,” he said, already tugging you towards the door.

you followed, stepping over the mess he’d made; seunghyun’s monitor flat on its face, the mic stand snapped clean in half, the mix table halfway under the desk.

“you’re telling him about this,” you said, eyes sweeping the wreckage.

jiyong barely looked back. “he likes you more.”

you gave his hand a squeeze, shooting him a look. “that’s not how this works.”

“sure it is,” he grinned, tugging you along. “i cause the damage, you soften the blow. it’s a team effort.”

you were both laughing by the time you hit the hallway, hand in hand, trying not to trip over each other or the sheer chaos that the two of you had left behind.

the closer you got to the stairs, the louder the party became; bass thudding through the walls, voices bubbling up the stairwell, laughter spilling over the music.

you were almost halfway down when the three of them came into view.

seunghyun, youngbae, and daesung stood clustered at the bottom landing, drinks in hand, mid-conversation. their heads turned at the sound of footsteps, and all three sets of eyes landed on you instantly.

youngbae blinked first. “wait—what are you wearing?”

“is that his robe?” daesung tilted his head.

“why are you wearing her bunny ears?” seunghyun asked, genuine confusion laced in his voice.

jiyong didn’t even pause. “she gave them to me.”

the three of them froze, eyes flicking between you and jiyong like they were piecing together a puzzle they weren’t sure they wanted solved.

seunghyun seemed to be the one who connected the dots first, his gaze narrowing, cutting straight through the two of you.

“you better not have fucked in my bed,” he said flatly.

you didn’t even blink. “we didn’t,” you said, voice light with innocence.

for a moment, it almost worked. seunghyun’s shoulders loosened. youngbae raised a brow. daesung looked like he might believe you.

“but,” you added, like it was an afterthought, “he does sort of owe you a new studio.”

“studio?” youngbae echoed, full alarm now.

“what studio?” daesung asked, leaning forward, already grinning.

seunghyun’s voice went flat. “my studio. what the hell happened to it?”

“nothing happened,” jiyong said quickly, his hand tightening around yours as he started nudging you towards the door. “absolutely nothing. we’re leaving.”

“leaving?!” daesung shouted, stepping slightly in front of you. “you just got here.”

“you’re not even drunk yet!” youngbae added, almost offended.

“i made you a drink,” seunghyun said, holding out the glass like a peace offering. “a good one.”

you took it from his hand without missing a beat. “perfect. for the road.”

jiyong looked like he was about to combust. “baby—please.”

you grinned at the boys as you backed towards the door. “love you all. invest in locks for your doors, oppa. they would have saved you a lot of money tonight.”

“what did you do—” seunghyun shouted, but jiyong had already dragged you outside before you could answer.

the car door had barely shut behind you before he exhaled hard, hands gripping the steering wheel like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

you turned towards him, the buzz of chaos behind you replaced by something softer. “you okay?”

he didn’t answer right away. his eyes stayed fixed on the dark stretch of driveway ahead, the crooked bunny ears still clinging to his head like some sad attempt at comedy.

you reached across the middle console, fingers brushing his temple as you straightened them. “you look ridiculous.”

he let out a small breath, barely more than a sigh.“you look better in that robe than i ever did.”

the words came quiet, almost offhanded, but something in his tone made you pause. there was no teasing behind it; just honesty, laid bare.

your hand lingered near his face before falling to your lap, fingers curling slightly.

the shift in energy was subtle, but it settled heavy between you. whatever rush you'd both been riding earlier had finally begun to settle into something slower. something real.

you caught the way his jaw moved, slow and tense, like he was chewing on something he didn’t know how to say.

“what’s going on in that head of yours?” you asked gently.

he exhaled again, slower this time. “i just keep thinking about that night.”

you stayed quiet, allowing him the space to open up.

“the night of the concert,” he clarified. “when you left.”

your stomach turned. not from guilt, but from the way his voice shifted; like it physically pained him to think about it.

“you ignored every call. every text.” his eyes stayed on the driveway, unfocused. “i kept checking the side curtain like an idiot. like maybe you’d just walk back in.”

you swallowed, heart thudding against your ribs.

“i was supposed to be working. performing. everyone was screaming my name, and all i could do…” his hand lifted like it might explain something, but dropped again. “all i could do was stare at the empty spot where you should’ve been standing.”

you turned a little more towards him, silk pooling at your elbows, the scent of his cologne rising with the shift.

he still wouldn’t look at you.

“i don’t ever want to feel that again,” he said, his voice so low it barely reached you. “not the silence. not the distance. not you walking away like that. it felt like i lost the other half of me.”

his hand flexed where it rested near the gearshift, fingers twitching like they still remembered reaching for nothing. “i don’t care who’s watching, or what it looks like from the outside, or how messy it gets. i don’t care anymore. i just can’t lose you like that again, y/n.”

your chest ached in the quiet that followed. his words didn’t feel rehearsed; they felt scraped out from somewhere deeper.

honest. tired. a little scared.

you reached for him again, your fingers brushing his before lifting up to his face, coaxing him to look at you.

“you didn’t lose me,” you said gently. “not that night. not ever. i was mad, yeah. a little hurt too.”

his eyes stayed fixed on yours, searching for something in your expression.

“when you were outside my door that night,” you said evenly, almost like you’d been waiting to get the words out, “i heard you. every word. the knocking. the way you kept saying my name.”

you squeezed his hand, your thumb tracing slow over his skin. “i slept on the floor,” you admitted, “right up against the door—because it was the closest i could be to you without actually opening it.”

his gaze lingered on you for a moment, before a quiet laugh escaped him. “you’re so damn stubborn,” he said, shaking his head, though the fondness in his voice betrayed him.

the sound loosened something in your chest, and you couldn’t help but smile. “maybe. but you stayed out there too.”

“of course i did,” the words came sure, without a flicker of doubt.

his thumb kept moving over your knuckles, slow and absent, like he couldn’t stop touching you now that he’d started.

“i’m done pretending,” he said quietly, the words steady but stripped bare. “done acting like you’re not the best thing in my life. i don’t want pieces of this anymore. i want the real thing. mornings. nights. shows. silence. all of it.”

your chest pulled tight at the certainty in his tone, a slow ache rising under your ribs. “so what does that mean for us?” you asked, your voice barely above a breath.

he didn’t waver. not even for a second. “it means i want everything,” he said. “whatever it takes. however messy it gets. i just want you.”

you leaned in until your forehead touched his, your breath mixing with his in the small space between you.

the bunny ears on his head brushed against your hair, ridiculous and perfect all at once, like a quiet promise neither of you needed to name.

“good,” you whispered, a smile curling at the edge of your lips. “because you’ve got me.”

he raised your hand slowly, brushing his mouth over your knuckles with a tenderness that made your chest ache.

your smile tugged softly at first, but it shifted as you leaned back into your seat, mischief sneaking into your voice. “now drive, g-daddy,” you said, biting back a grin. “round two’s not gonna start itself.”

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