PAIRING: lee seokmin x f!reader
GENRE: smut [18+ MDNI]
WC: 5,906
WARNINGS: reader and seokmin both run (faceless) porn accounts on twitter, sexting, dirty talk, masturbation, SIZE KINK!, mutual masturbation, oral, nose meal!! (it's dk so duh), multiple orgasms, protected sex, but also unprotected sex, missionary, cowgirl, creampie, cumplay/cum eating, praise kink
A/N: requested by world's #1 cuties g @miniseokminnies for my Cosmos event! i went a lil crazy w this one hope u don't mind!!! ty @haologram for beta-ing <3
SYNOPSIS: As an anonymous porn account on Twitter, you're often engaging flirtaciously with other accounts — it's good for business, after all — but you never let yourself catch real feelings. Until now, when you've started sexting with the owner of your personal favorite account, an extremely hot (and hung) guy who goes by Nico. You know Nico is local, and you're really into each other, so you're genuinely considering doing your first collab with him. But then you have a realization: you're pretty fucking sure you know him in real life already.
ding
You pick up your phone, seeing a DM notification from Twitter. As you open the app you smile — it's exactly who you hoped would be messaging you.
@/xcalibur_: wowwww you look amazing in the new vid 😍
It's Nico — one of your mutuals. Due to the nature of the content you put out, and the fact that you choose to remain anonymous online — posting everything under a pseudonym, Berrie — you are constantly having to balance casually flirting with other adult content creators to build your network while also not getting too close to anybody. It's good business, and also for your own safety. But you and Nico have followed each other for a few months now, and he seems like a genuinely sweet guy. It also doesn't help that he is outrageously hot, and has the prettiest cock you've ever seen. You should probably be ashamed by how many times you've cum to his videos, but shame surrounding sex is something you left behind a long time ago.
@/strawberriebaby: thanks love😘 your new pics are sooo hot btw
@/xcalibur_: thank you gorgeous ;) i didn't think the bulge pics would be so popular tbh but people seem to love it
@/strawberriebaby: it's the gray sweatpants babe, that'll drive any girl crazy in a heartbeat
@/xcalibur_: that's good to know, i'll keep that in mind 😏 hey btw, if you ever want any free personalized content from me lmk. i've cum to your videos so many times, so i definitely owe you haha
That last sentence makes your stomach do an excited flip. Sure, you post porn on Twitter. Of course other people are going to be jerking it to your videos. But something about hearing it from him specifically is really fucking hot.
@/strawberriebaby: that's crazy bc i cum to YOUR videos all the time too 🥰
@/xcalibur_: wow, what an honor to hear that from my favorite account holy shit 😍
@/strawberriebaby: lol i'll bet you say that to everyone
@/xcalibur_: nope, not at all. just you baby ❤️
@/strawberriebaby: alright then, prove it. send me a video of you jerking off right now 😊
@/xcalibur_: say less 🫡
A proud grin creeps across your face. Your thighs instinctively squeeze together, excitement flooding your senses at the prospect of receiving a personal video from Nico. Figuring you'd give him a few minutes, you decide to get up and start some laundry in the meantime. By the time you've sorted your clothes and started the first load in the washer, you already have a new DM in your notifications.
Excitedly you make your way to your bedroom, figuring you might as well enjoy yourself as you watch. Plopping onto your bed, you open Twitter and click on your chat with Nico. Sure enough, you are greeted with a seven minute-long video attachment, with a blurry image of what appears to be his bulge in the thumbnail, and an accompanying message that simply says for my favorite girl❤️.
You click play, immediately being greeted with soft moans from behind the camera as you watch him stroke himself through his sweatpants, the thick bulge heavy beneath his grasp. He's already growing hard, the soft fabric doing little to hide the shape of his cock as he touches himself, the delicate sighs escaping his lips sounding whiny already. You feel a rush of heat in your core as you watch him; he may be fully clothed still, but that doesn't stop your mouth from watering at the salacious sight.
Before long he has a full-blown erection; reaching into his pants, he takes his length in his hand, letting out a hiss at the sensation. Slipping the waistband of his sweats down he frees it from the confines of his underwear, revealing the thick, veiny shaft you've committed to memory at this point. He begins to jerk himself off, slow, measured strokes as he grips his cock tightly in his fist.
"F-fuck," you hear him groan from behind the camera. "I'm so fucking horny right now."
Grinning, you slip out of your pants with one hand, the other holding your phone as your eyes remain fixed on the pretty cock on its screen. You recline into your pillows, lightly dragging your fingertips over your pussy, discovering yourself to be much wetter than you expected. You collect your pooled arousal and spread it over your clit, sighing softly as your fingers graze the sensitive bud.
"Feels so good," he whines. "Wish it was your mouth, baby. Fuck…"
He begins to stroke himself faster now, his hand pumping up and down his length with urgent need. You slip your fingers into your pussy, fucking yourself as you watch; you start slow, but the pitiful sounds coming out of him soon have your hand flying as fast as his is. You feel like you could cum already, but you want to wait until he does. Your stomach tightens as you picture the savory sight of that in your head; checking the timestamp on the video, you're about halfway through. Just a few more minutes to go. The time seems to pass at a painfully slow pace, forcing you to pause more than once, taking the time to catch your breath as you watch Nico getting himself off with uninhibited pleasure. Your clit throbs, aching for the release of your orgasm. Finally, his whimpers begin to turn utterly pathetic — sharp cries and loud moans escaping him — and you can tell he's about to cum. Thank god, you think to yourself. You don't know how much longer you can wait.
You watch the shiny dribble of precum drip down the head of his cock, which is turning an angry shade of red as his climax begins to overtake him.
"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he cries. He vigorously pumps his length, cock throbbing in his grasp, until finally — he releases. With a vulgar groan white ropes of cum spurt from his tip, shooting into the air before falling onto his hand and stomach. The sight is enough to send you over the edge — your palm presses into your clit as your fingers fuck into your cunt, and you cum too. Your head falls back, eyes tearing up at the bursts of pleasure rolling through your body, but you don't take them off the screen for a second. You ride out your high, chest heaving with deep breaths as you stare at the delicious mess of cum all over Nico.
As you drift back down to earth, you watch as he lets go of his spent cock; it twitches against his stomach as he shows off his cum-coated hand, the sticky white substance dripping all over his fingers and the silver ring on his pinky. You've seen his hands plenty of times by now, and you've always thought they were exceptionally pretty. However, for some reason in this moment they seem… familiar. His long thick fingers, his pretty nails, and also the ring, too. You swear you've seen it somewhere before. You figure it's just from watching so many of his videos, but something in the back of your mind is telling you otherwise. But your mind is spinning, and it's hard to think straight right now anyway, so you push that thought aside.
You take a picture of your soaked cunt and DM it back to him.
@/strawberriebaby: that was so fucking hot, thank youuu 😘
Your phone dings as he replies immediately.
@/xcalibur_: fuck, need that pussy so bad
Maybe it's just the high from your orgasm, but his message practically has you swooning. The typing bubble pops up again right away. You watch him type for a minute, then stop. It pops up again a few moments later. You wait patiently to see what he has to say, and finally you receive another message.
@/xcalibur_: i'm not sure if you're open to collabs, so no pressure at all, but if you're ever interested lmk ;) more than willing to travel for u lol
Your heart nearly skips a beat. You've had other creators ask to collab before, but you've politely turned them all down. It's something you've definitely considered, but you don't want to do it with just anybody. It would have to be with the right person — and honestly, Nico would be perfect for the job.
@/strawberriebaby: i've never done one before, but i've been considering it tbh👀 i'm kinda nervous about it though
@/xcalibur_: that's totally fair, it's a big ask! i've also never done one, mostly for privacy reasons. might end my career if anybody finds out i do this lol
@/strawberriebaby: i'm a freelance artist, so that matters less for me haha. i'm just mostly nervous because i've never done a face reveal before
@/xcalibur_: you wouldn't have to do one if you don't want!
@/strawberriebaby: oh yeah, i mean more like… what if i met somebody irl and they weren't into me :/
@/xcalibur_: i can guarantee that won't happen if we meet, i promise :)
@/strawberriebaby: i'm just kind of an awkward person 😭
@/xcalibur_: that doesn't matter to me. you're hot and i'm very into you 🙂↕️
@/strawberriebaby: you haven't even seen my face though!!
@/xcalibur_: but i know you're fucking beautiful. and i'm not just saying that!
This conversation is a lot flirtier than you usually have with people on Twitter, even your mutuals that you know fairly well. Normally if a man was talking to you like this, you would just assume it's business as usual, just another stranger on the internet trying to get into your pants. But Nico is… different. Maybe you're delusional — maybe he talks like this to everyone he wants to fuck and you're not special. But your instinct tells you he's being genuine.
@/strawberriebaby: you're crazy, but fortunately i'm into that lol
@/xcalibur_: that's great news for me😌 but fr, if you're ever in the bay area hit me up. i'll clear my fucking schedule
@/strawberriebaby: wait, you're in the bay area??
@/xcalibur_: born and raised!
@/strawberriebaby: no fucking way. i'm also in the bay area!
@/xcalibur_: omg
@/xcalibur_: not to jump the gun but this might be destiny idk
@/strawberriebaby: well, one way to find out
@/xcalibur_: does this mean you want to collab :)
@/strawberriebaby: let me sleep on it, but good chance the answer might be yes
@/xcalibur_: YAYYYYY
@/xcalibur_: i mean uh, yeah that's cool. totally a good business decision.
@/strawberriebaby: oh, totally, for sure. well i have to go now, i'm meeting a friend for dinner. pleasure doing business with you ;)
@/xcalibur_: you too babe 😘 enjoy your dinner!
Between your orgasm and your conversation with Nico, you're feeling very hot and bothered — so you decide to take a quick shower. You feel much better afterward; you get ready and head out to meet your friend, and you end up having a really nice night. But you'd be lying if you said you didn't spend the whole rest of the evening with thoughts of your potential collab lingering in the back of your mind.
On Saturday, you have a gig as a wedding photographer — one of the many hats you wear. The wedding isn't until the afternoon, but you're supposed to be there by 11am to get set up and run through the schedule with the wedding planner. You're running slightly behind, but you're still on time — as long as you leave by 10:30, you'll be fine.
At 10:25am you are on your way out of your apartment. As you lock the door behind you, you spot a figure out of the corner of your eye approaching from down the hallway. Turning your head, you see that it's your neighbor, Seokmin.
"Hey y/n!" he tells you cheerfully. "Haven't seen you in a minute!"
Seokmin lives down the hall from you, so you run into him fairly frequently in passing. You usually don't go out of your way to talk to other people in your building outside of polite small talk, and you don't know Seokmin all that well truthfully. You pretty much only know that he's a lawyer, and apparently a pretty good one at that — but with his gregarious nature and bright smile, he's easily one of the nicest people you've ever met.
"Hey Seokmin," you smile back, giving him a small wave. "Yeah, I've been working odd jobs lately, so my schedule is kind of all over the place."
Seokmin reaches his front door. Still facing you, he rummages around in his bag, presumably for his keys.
"Nice, where are you off to today?"
"Photography gig," you answer. "I'm working a wedding."
"Oh, fun!" he beams at you, his arm still digging around the bottom of his bag. Finally, his hand closes around the small cluster of metal; he pulls the keys out, turning to the door to raising his hand to the lock. As he does so, you notice a silver ring around his pinky, and suddenly you realize where you've seen this exact same hand before.
Your eyes widen, staring at Seokmin's hand, looking for anything to tell you you're wrong, that can't be the same hand… You blink, hoping you're just imagining things — but deep down you know your eyes do not deceive you.
Seokmin peers back at you, about to say something else, but you look like you've seen a ghost.
"Are you okay?" he asks, slightly concerned.
"I just— I forgot something," you say in a panic, plastering a faux smile on your face. You spin on your heel and rush back into your apartment before he can ask any more questions. "Catch you later!"
"Bye!" Seokmin shouts after you. He turns and enters his apartment, not thinking anything of it.
You, however, are now spiraling. You pace around your apartment as you take your phone out and open Twitter, scrolling to your DMs with Nico and playing back the video he sent you the other night. You fast forward to the end, stopping when you see his cum-coated hand in frame. Without a doubt, it looks just like Seokmin's. You might've been able to convince yourself that they just look similar, that there's no chance in hell they belong to the same person — but the presence of the identical ring makes it undeniable.
"What the fuck," you mutter under your breath, trying to process this information. Sure, Seokmin is objectively an attractive man — but you've never thought of him like that before. But the more you think about it, the way Nico talks and his amicable, sweet nature match Seokmin's demeanor perfectly. And he does have the exact same build you've seen fully nude from the shoulders down dozens of times on your phone screen.
But you don't have time to stand here and freak out about this right now. You have to get to work. You peek out your peephole, just to make sure he's not still out there for any reason, but the hallway is vacant. You lock the door behind you and make your exit as quickly as possible.
Fortunately, the wedding setup and the ceremony itself keep you busy enough to keep your mind off the fact that Nico is your literal neighbor. After the reception ends, you head home, but decide to stop at the CVS on your way back. You grab the couple items you need from your list and head to check out, but on your way to the register you pass the condom section. You stop for a second; you do have a box at home already, but Nico/Seokmin's video drifts to the front of your mind, reminding you just how fucking huge his cock is.
Stop it, you think to yourself. You didn't even say you'd collab with him yet. Do you even want to do that now that you know he's been living across the hall from you this whole time?? But you know in your heart that the answer is a resounding yes.
With a sigh, you grab a box of XL condoms off the shelf and toss it in your basket.
You spend the whole evening trying not to think about Seokmin, to no avail. You even put on Howl's Moving Castle, hoping that your favorite movie will be a good distraction, but even that isn't enough to get your mind of that fucking video he sent you. You can't even blame him, because you're the one who asked him to send it in the first place.
Idiot, you chastise yourself. He did say he was also in the Bay Area, but so are seven million other people; never in your wildest dreams would you have expected him to live in your exact building — because what are the fucking odds of that? But regardless, it's true, and now you have to figure out what the hell you are going to do about it. You pretty much have two options: tell him you know, or pretend like you don't. Neither one is very good — the latter would probably be the smarter option, but it doesn't change the fact that you still want to hit like so bad.
Your phone buzzes. Looking down, you see a DM from Nico pop up in your notifications.
"Speak of the devil…" you mumble to yourself. You pick up the phone and open it to his message.
@/xcalibur_: heyyyy cutie ❤️ how was your day?
You stare at the screen for a minute, deliberating, but eventually you decide to respond.
@/strawberriebaby: honestly i had such a weird fucking day 😭
@/xcalibur_: oh no! what happened? (if you don't mind me asking)
@/strawberriebaby: nothing bad, just… weird. can i ask you something?
@/xcalibur_: of course baby
@/strawberriebaby: what would you do if i said i think we might know each other irl?
Your heart races as you hit send. You have no idea how he's going to respond, but you decide fuck it. Worst case scenario it'll make things so awkward you will have to move, but that's a problem for later. You watch the typing bubble anxiously as you await his reply.
@/xcalibur_: wait, seriously? how so?
@/strawberriebaby: i recognized your ring in the video.
@/xcalibur_: i'm sure a lot of guys have a ring like mine tho, maybe it just looks similar to someone you know?
@/strawberriebaby: that's what i was thinking. but then i saw you in the hallway this morning when i was on my way to work
The typing bubble does not pop up again. A few minutes pass, and you start to wonder if you've royally fucked up — but then you hear a knock at your front door.
You get up and walk over to the peephole, peering out to see none other than Seokmin standing there, wearing grey sweatpants and a tight black t-shirt that puts his thick biceps on full display. You open the door, coming face to face with him; you stare at each other for a moment, neither of you knowing what to say.
"You…" he finally starts, but you just grab him by the wrist and pull him inside. Door shutting behind him, you are now alone together, standing far to close to one another in the entryway of your home.
"It is you," he says in a hushed tone, staring at you with sparkling brown eyes. "You're Berrie." You nod, locking eyes with him, making your stomach do a nervous flip.
"And you're Nico," you reply softly. He nods back, a bewildered look coloring his face.
"This is crazy," he laughs incredulously. "I've always thought you were so pretty, but I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable or anything."
"Well, turns out we've already seen each other naked," you point out. He lets out a laugh.
"Yeah, I suppose so…"
You stare at each other for a moment, the tension in the room turning palpable.
"Well, my offer still stands, you know," he says, suddenly turning a bit flushed. "About the collab. If you want."
"Do you mean… right now?" you ask, taking a step forward.
"Yeah," he whispers, also stepping forward to bridge the gap between the two of you. "I do." Slowly he raises his right hand, cradling your cheek in his palm as he holds your face, the metal of his ring cool against your cheek. You let out a soft gasp; your hands drift to his torso, pressing them against his muscular abs, sliding them up across his chest before you take his shirt in your fists, yanking him toward you closer still.
"Kiss me," you tell him, and without a moment of hesitation his lips are crashing into yours.
His hand drifts from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling your face into his so he can kiss you with unrestrained vigor. His other hand drifts to your waist, rubbing your hip slowly as he tastes you, his lips tugging on yours in sheer desperation. You kiss him back, grabbing him by his sides as you press your body into him.
"Fuck," he grumbles, barely taking his lips off you as he grabs your ass, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh."You're so perfect."
The stiffening in his pants is undeniable, pressing against your stomach as he holds you close. You want nothing more than to rip your clothes off and throw yourself at him, but you know that teasing him for a bit first would be enticing for the both of you — and you want to savor this.
You break the kiss, staring up at him sweetly, before you take his hand in yours and start pulling him toward your bedroom.
"C'mon," you say, looking back at him as you tug him along. He grins, gazing at you excitedly at he eagerly follows. Entering your room, he lets out a chuckle.
"Wow, so this is where the magic happens, huh?" he asks, gesturing at your ring light and tripod set up at the foot of your bed.
"Sure is," you smile. "I was planning on filming tonight, let me move this real quick—"
"Wait," Seokmin says, grabbing hold of your wrist. You turn to face him again, his soft brown eyes staring at you lustfully. "You should go ahead and film."
"It's okay, I can do it tomorrow—" you start, but he grabs you by the chin, tilting your face up to his so he can kiss you again.
"I want to watch," he mutters into your lips. A smile spreads across your face.
"Okay," you beam at him.
Grabbing your phone, you set it up on the tripod, the video camera open and ready. You strip your clothes off as you make your way over to your bed, plopping into the center and making yourself comfortable. You spread your legs, revealing your bare pussy, already glimmering with arousal in the dim lighting.
"Ready?" Seokmin asks, his finger hovering above the record button.
"More than," you grin.
He taps the button, and the video begins.
Slowly you slide your hand down your body, dipping your fingers into your cunt, pulling them out again to show off the stick mess of juices dripping out of you. Seokmin licks his lips, palming himself through his sweatpants as he quickly starts to grow hard. You touch yourself lazily, staring up at him as you start to get yourself off; you were planning on taking your sweet time, but having him watch you like this is making you unbearably horny. Soft moans escape your lips as you begin to play with your clit, causing him to grip his bulge in his fist tightly as he takes a deep breath. Your other hand grasps at your breast, squeezing it as your fingers start to move faster. The sight is too much for Seokmin. Mouth watering, he pulls his pants down and frees his cock, stroking it slowly in his large hand. You've seen it dozens of times, so you knew exactly what to expect — and yet seeing the sheer size of his cock with your own two eyes has you clenching around nothing. You swear you've never craved anything more in your life.
Your fingers begin to work faster, flicking back and forth over your clit, hips rocking slowly as a burning heat begins to fill your gut. Watching Seokmin masturbate as he watches you masturbate has to be the hottest thing you've ever experienced. His eyes don't leave you for a second, his gaze flickering from your pussy to your breasts to your pretty face, savoring the sight of every inch of you. Soon, he's stroking himself with a sense of urgency, his hand working his cock faster and faster, egged on by your incessant whimpering as you approach your high. Your body writhes against the mattress as an explosive orgasm suddenly overtakes you — your legs tremble, your head falls back into the pillows as you release, crying out with pleasure as the shockwaves of your climax pulse through you.
Your mind spins as you come down, your chest rising and falling with deep breaths as you try to recover. Your eyes flutter open again, seeing Seokmin still standing there, staring at you like he wants to devour you. His hand has stilled, gripping his thick hard cock tightly, his tip glistening with his leaking juices.
"Turn that off and come fuck me already," you tell him, grinning eagerly. He stops the video and walks over to your bed, climbing over you and pressing a long kiss against your lips. You reach for his cock, but he's already scooting back down, positioning himself between your legs.
"I will," he replies, suddenly grabbing you by the thighs and folding you in half, making you gasp. "But first…"
You cry out as he drags his tongue over your cunt, groaning as he laps up the pool of juices.
"Fuck, even better than I imagined."
He slips his tongue into your hole, fucking it in and out as his nose bumps against your swollen clit, sending a jolt of electricity up your spine.
"Oh my god—" you moan, brushing your fingers through his dark hair and grasping onto it. You hold his head in place, but he had no plans of pulling away anyway. He eats you out slowly, savoring every drop of you, his tongue running through your folds and over your clit until you feel the pressure of a second orgasm building inside you. Your hips begin to rock against his face, rubbing your clit over his nose, until you are cumming again. His hands grip your thighs as he doesn't stop, licking your pussy as you ride out your high.
"Fuck," you gasp for air as you pry his head off of you. He grins at you sheepishly, his entire chin dripping.
"Sorry, got a bit carried away," he admits.
"No, don't apologize," you smile at him. "That was fucking amazing."
He dives in one more time to press a soft kiss into your spent clit. Crawling back up to you, you pull him in for a kiss, slipping your tongue into his mouth to taste yourself on him.
"Now will you fuck me?" you tease as your lips part.
"Of course, baby," he says with one more kiss. "I didn't bring any protection though, I kinda ran out the door without thinking…"
"It's okay, I have some," you tell him. Reaching into your drawer you pull out the unopened box of XL condoms you're grateful you bought on a whim. As you open the package, he gives you a quizzical look.
"Do you always keep these on hand?" he asks teasingly.
"Nope," you reply. "Bought them today."
"Oh," he says softly, a satisfied smirk spreading across his face. "So you bought these specifically for me, then."
"Yes," you answer matter-of-factly, making his cheeks turn flushed.
"I guess we're kinda obsessed with each other then, huh?" he asks, grinning widely.
"Seems that way," you beam back at him.
You pull one of the small packets out, tossing the box aside and ripping it open. You pull the condom out and reach for Seokmin's cock. You give it a few pumps, making him groan.
"God, it's so fucking hot to have you actually touching me."
"Good," you grin. You take the condom and stretch it over his tip, rolling it down his length. You grab his cock and guide it to your entrance, rubbing his head over your folds. He moves his hips, pressing it in gently, but you're so soaked that it slips in with ease. You gasp, staring at his cock as it disappears into your cunt, filling you up like never before.
"Oh my god you're huge," you say mouth ajar. You gaze back up, meeting his eyes as he stares at you hungrily. Slowly he begins to fuck you, pulling his cock out and pushing it all the way back in.
"You feel incredible," he mutters as he leans his head in, kissing the side of your neck delicately. You let out a soft, involuntary whine, making Seokmin's head spin more than it already is.
"Fuck, you're so hot," he groans. "Keep making those noises baby, I like it."
"Feels so good," you whimper as he fucks into you harder.
"You're taking me so well," he coos, his hand drifting to your nipple and tugging on it lightly. "Such a good girl."
"Harder," you plead. He smirks, then starts fucking you faster, giving you exactly what you asked for.
"Oh my god, I wanna cum," he moans, leaning in to kiss you, tugging on your bottom lip. He slows to a stop, breathing heavily above you. "Will you please ride me?" he asks, staring deep into your eyes. You nod eagerly, making him grin excitedly. He gently pulls out of you, rolling onto his back and bringing you with him. You straddle him, rubbing your cunt over his cock. You pause for a second, giving him a curious look.
"What is it, love?" he asks softly.
"Let me take it off," you say, dragging your fingertip over his wrapped length. "I want you to cum in me."
His eyes widen. "You're gonna be the death of me," he says with a laugh.
"Is that a yes?" you ask, tugging lightly at the tip of the condom.
"Yeah," he nods. "Absolutely."
You giggle excitedly as you remove the barrier, discarding it and quickly positioning yourself over his cock. It slides in with ease as you sit on it, making you groan as you take his full length inside you.
"Holy fucking shit your pussy feels so good," he moans, his jaw dropping. "Oh my god…"
You begin to ride him, slowly gliding yourself up and down his length, but before long you're fully bouncing up and down on him, crying out from pleasure as his cock reaches deep inside you.
"F-fuck," you whine, pressing your hands against his chest to support yourself as you ride his perfect cock.
"Don't stop," he begs. "I'm so close."
Obediently you keep up your pace, tears welling in your eyes as you stare down at Seokmin. His head drops against the pillow, his eyes rolling back as you feel his cock start to pulse inside you.
"I'm cumming, baby," he groans. He cries out as he releases, and you feel his hot ropes of cum shooting against your walls as a string of delectable moans drifts from his lips. He grabs your hips, squeezing them tight in his grasp as he holds you in place, fucking his cock up into you with careless abandon. His cock twitches as he gives you all of his cum; eventually his hips begin to slow, coming to a stop, his hands still holding a strong grip on your sides.
"Wow," he sighs as he comes back to earth. He smiles, letting out a giggle as he opens his eyes to look at you again. "You're fucking perfect. Let me see," he says, gesturing to your filled pussy. You lift yourself off his length, letting the cum drip out of you, coating his cock and stomach with the sticky mess. Collecting the remainder of his cum from your cunt on your fingers, you lift your hand to your mouth, licking them clean.
"Goddamn," he mumbles as he watches you. You unstraddle him and lean over, licking up the cum from his abdomen as well. He watches you through heavy eyelids, petting your hair as you clean him up.
"C'mere," he says when you finish, pulling you up into his embrace. You snuggle in next to him as he wraps his broad arms around you, holding you tight as he kisses your forehead. You rest there for a few silent moments, breathing together as he gently rubs your back.
"I suppose we could've filmed that," you say after a few minutes, lifting your head out of the crook of his neck to look at him. "But I didn't even think of that. I was too distracted by your huge fucking cock."
Seokmin laughs. "That's okay," he replies sweetly. "Besides, I wanted you all to myself. But we can do this again, if you want."
"Absolutely," you nod.
"Good," he says as he smiles brightly. He pulls you into a tight hug, kissing you again, kissing you over and over for as long as you'll let him — which is very long time, but neither of you mind it one bit.
[TWO WEEKS LATER]
You wake up to thousands of notifications, all from Twitter.
You think you're seeing things at first, but as you scroll you confirm that, indeed, you have more notifications right now than you've ever seen in your life. Smiling, you go to your text messages and open your chat with Seokmin, who has already texted you this morning.
Seokmin: wow, i guess people liked the video :)
You open Twitter and go to your profile, looking at the video you have pinned. The caption reads: We finally collabed @/xcalibur_ 💕 Full video on OF. The clip is a preview of the nearly 30-minute-long sex tape you uploaded to your OnlyFans account — your first official collab with Nico.
Since the first time you fucked, it actually took the both of you about six more times before one of you remembered to turn a camera on. You've been too busy being utterly and completely obsessed with each other, fucking on seemingly every possible surface in both of your apartments. But finally, you decided to film it for real, and it appears Twitter is having a fucking field day with it. Overnight alone, the tweet gained over 5,000 retweets and 12,000 likes. You decide to scroll through the replies to see what people are saying.
holy shit this was so hottttt
The collab of a LIFETIME!!!
omg my two favorites in one video?? i'm in heaven 😍
bro i just nutted in 1 minute wtf
pls make more videos together 🙏 y'alls chemistry is FIRE
Smiling, you return to your texts and reply to Seokmin.
You: i guess so ;) i can't believe we went viral lol
Seokmin: i can. that video was so hot ☺️
You: you're so right
Seokmin: what are you doing tonight?
You: you, hopefully
Seokmin: oh for sure!! but, i was actually hoping to take you out to dinner. it's about time i took you on a proper date
You: wait, are you're saying you want to date me? 🥺
Seokmin: absolutely i do. if you want, of course
You: i'd love nothing more ❤️
Seokmin: YAY :)))
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All is copacetic and swell in the roaring 20s, and studioSVT invite you to be a part of the shindig. Whether it's the flappers of Midtown or the prim men of Wall Street, there's opportunity for everyone in the Big Apple. Gather round, guys & dolls as we're ✨Puttin' on the Ritz✨!
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🥂 Oops! Some of these invites are only for cats 18+. Please check all the warnings before stepping through those doors 🥂
✨Invitation: Velvet Vengeance by @lovelylonelinesssvt
🥂Hosts: Choi Seungcheol x f!reader
🌃 The Main Drag: New York 1920, mafia controls through strategy, silence, and violence. A fragile peace now begins to break when secrets surface in clubs. Choi Seungcheol is looking for answers, for names, for revenge just like you are. While trying to find the man who’s behind your loss, you’re caught between an imminent gang war and Seungcheol, a man determined to protect you, to fight for you and now to fight next to you.
🎊 The Berries
✨Invitation: tainted tides by @joshujin
🥂Hosts: Choi Seungcheol x f!reader
🌃 The Main Drag: The wife of a politician is good for very few things—how flawless and beautiful and desirable you are being paramount to all. Every fundraiser, every gala, every luncheon, you're at your husband's side, the picture perfect portrayal of who New York City expects their First Lady to be. What they don’t expect is their prohibitionist mayor’s wife to be spotted at a popular speakeasy the night of the city's biggest raid. Or for her to go missing shortly after.
🎊 The Berries | The Berries (Pt. 2)
✨Invitation: amontillado by @sailorsoons
🥂Hosts: Yoon Jeonghan x reader
🌃 The Main Drag: Disappearing from your fiancé should have been easy. Instead, you stumble into Jeonghan’s empire of blood and alcohol - and he becomes the only thing standing between you and death.
🎊 The Berries
✨Invitation: and all that jazz by @hannieoftheyear
🥂Hosts: Yoon Jeonghan x reader
🌃 The Main Drag: The Canaries, the bar where unimaginable dreams come true for all, only with one exception. Each night, after the doors lock, the deserted bar hosts one last client: the sidelined jazz singer whose time to shine gets pushed back time and time again, yet, the only one who seems to notice is the watchful bartender, ready to listen to your rambles after-hours.
🎊 The Berries
✨Invitation: under the starlight by @starlightkyeom
🥂Hosts: Joshua Hong x f!reader
🌃 The Main Drag: joshua doesn't think twice when he takes the job as a singer at a speakeasy. doesn't worry about who's running it or about anything illegal. it's a chance to sing, like he's always dreamt. despite the circumstances, it's all running pretty smoothly. until he meets you. all the knows is that you're married to someone within the family running the speakeasy. that should be enough. when he sees the sadness in your eyes, he knows that he needs to know more.
🎊 The Berries
✨Invitation: safety by @mylovesstuffs
🥂Hosts: Joshua Hong x reader
🌃 The Main Drag: In 1920s New York, a failed medical experiment turns the city into something they’ve only seen in fiction — the infected not quite dead, not quite alive. Fleeing the ruins, Joshua Hong, heir to one of the city’s most influential tailoring and fashion dynasties, and a woman who once lived under his family’s roof, they rely on each other to survive.
Forced to pretend they’re something they’re not, they soon learn that safety comes at the cost of truth
🎊 The Berries
✨Invitation: deadlock by @sailorsoons
🥂Hosts: Wen Junhui x reader
🌃 The Main Drag: You and Junhui have the perfect life together. Sure, you've failed to mention you're a spy for Clockwork and he never mentioned being a hitman for Protocol, but what couple doesn't lie? The lies work - until Junhui is tasked with killing you, his perfect wife who has secrets he never dreamed of.
Cocktails 🎊 The Berries
✨Invitation: Pendulum by @gyuswhore
🥂Hosts: Wen Junhui x f!reader
🌃 The Main Drag: There are many things your father never told you when he left you his flower shop; the ever creaky door hinges, the delivery man who can never seem to tell the orchids from the gardenias, and the headquarters of the biggest mafia in New York operating in the employee break room.
Of course you're used to it now, the familiar faces passing in and out of the shop while you pretend nothing is amiss. Until a new face appears, disappearing into the backrooms without a word, bloodied knuckles and a poorly strapped revolver on his hips.
Suddenly, it's very hard to pretend.
🎊 The Berries
✨Invitation: Kitty by @aeristudios
🥂Hosts: Kwon Soonyoung x f!reader
🌃 The Main Drag: You moved to NYC from the South to seek out Soonyoung, the barber with connections that can help you hide in plain sight. But as you start to finally start to settle in and you and Soonyoung become close, your past catches up to you— putting everything you fought for at risk.
Cocktails 🎊 The Berries
✨Invitation: where do stars go? by @imnotshua
🥂Hosts: Kwon Soonyoung x f!reader
🌃 The Main Drag: nothing’s ever been serious where you’re concerned, especially the way you flirt with him. but when he overhears something he shouldn’t, and your perfect mask slips, soonyoung starts to wonder if you’ve been keeping other secrets hidden in the dark.
🎊 The Berries
✨Invitation: my dearest by @straylightdream
🥂Hosts: Jeon Wonwoo x f!reader
🌃 The Main Drag: he has a debt to one of the richest men in the city, with ties to the mafia. he's offered a lifeline he can’t turn down. marry the daughter to the man he’s in debt to. they’re both two people thrown into a marriage they never planned. the only way to survive is to stick together and to protect each other.
🎊 The Berries
✨Invitation: You & I by @sailorsoons
🥂The Hosts: chauffeur!Jeon Wonwoo x mafia!reader
🌃 The Main Drag: Wonwoo has been your loyal driver and security detail for years now. But before that, he was your friend - someone you loved, even. Now, you spend most nights in silence, wishing you could go back to the way things were.
🎊 The Berries
✨Invitation: spectre by @shinysobi
🥂Hosts: Lee Jihoon x reader
🌃 The Main Drag: for four years after his graduation from city college of new york, lee jihoon has kept his head down, hoping for the best, and preparing for the day when his little ruse dissolves. he's good at hiding, after all. he's been doing it for years. unfortunately, when dealing with the unruly cousin of a shipping magnate, smokescreens tend to shatter, and spectres tend to return.
🎊 The Berries
✨Invitation: Room 217 by @goldenhourology
🥂Hosts: Lee Jihoon x reader
🌃 The Main Drag: Fresh starts are hard, but running away from your mafia husband is even harder. After escaping the protection of the Lucky Ace gang and fleeing to New York City, you find Lee Jihoon, a reserved yet enigmatic hotel owner. The Hotel Ruby conceals a popular speakeasy, the Velvet Ruby, within its walls. It takes some convincing, but Jihoon eventually offers you a job, a chance at stability and anonymity. But every swanky hotel has its secrets. When you stumble upon the locked door to Room 217, nothing could prepare you for what’s waiting on the other side.
Cocktails 🎊 The Berries
✨Invitation: never forget a pretty face by @miniseokminnies
🥂Hosts: Lee Seokmin x f!reader
🌃 The Main Drag: your father has always had friends in high places, almost as high as the debts he kept. following his disappearance (read: murder) the men who swore to protect him take you somewhere your father's creditors would never find you: a mechanic's shop tucked away in a little hole in the wall that no one would ever see if they weren't looking for it. your life has been a series of interesting events but this might be the most enticing of them all.
🎊 The Berries
✨Invitation: spellbound by @kyeomofhearts
🥂Hosts: Lee Seokmin x f!reader
🌃 The Main Drag: love was always easy for you, until it wasn’t. young and careless, you let him fall for you and walked away before admitting he was the one. years later, with the world pressing in and your heart still quietly aching; you meet him again by chance and realize some love never fades, only waits.
🎊 The Berries
✨Invitation: drive me crazy by @jakedustry
🥂Hosts: Kim Mingyu x f!reader
🌃 The Main Drag: There isn’t anything Kim Mingyu can come back home to, no one waiting for him at night when he gets off his shift, so when he finally takes a few days off, his plan consists of two simple things: drinks and sleep. But his world takes a spin around when he stumbles upon a group of officers arresting a young lady begging for help after a night out. If Mingyu has one weakness, it’s people in distress, especially if it involves a child in need.
🎊 The Berries
✨Invitation: crossing without steps by @nerdycheol
🥂Hosts: Kim Mingyu x f!reader
🌃 The Main Drag: You grow up knowing your life will be decided for you. The right schools, the right friends...the right engagement. Loving him makes sense. It fits. Then you meet someone who doesn’t. Mingyu is uncomplicated in ways your life has never been, all warmth and honesty, a presence you are not meant to linger on. You tell yourself it is nothing, a harmless pull. But wanting him begins to feel like standing too close to the light. Caught between the future promised to you and the love you never meant to find, you learn that some feelings do not ask for permission.
🎊 The Berries
✨Invitation: somebody's sweetheart by @haologram
🥂Hosts: Xu Minghao x f!reader
🌃 The Main Drag: minghao is eerily convinced that nothing means anything without passion. love, money, fame...it's nothing without passion and everything with love. he just has to find the love he preaches before it's too late for her.
Cocktails 🎊 The Berries
✨Invitation: When the Sun Rises in New York by @vernonverse
🥂Hosts: Xu Minghao x f!reader
🌃 The Main Drag: You are sent to New York City twenty-four hours before your wedding to a man you've never met. On the train from your home to the big city, you meet Minghao, a struggling painter spending his final day in America before deportation. With the clock already ticking and no future promised to either of you, you spend one day wandering the city, knowing that life is already lining up to tear you apart forever.
🎊 The Berries
✨Invitation: death, diamonds and decorum by @hannieween
🥂Hosts: Boo Seungkwan x f!eader
🌃 The Main Drag: It was only supposed to be a job. One last quick, easy smash-and-grab before you walked away from the life, forever. But everything changed when you were told you would be working side by side with your ex-boyfriend—the love of your life, your biggest mistake and the one person you swore you would never talk to again, Boo Seungkwan.
And that was when you knew this job wouldn’t be so easy.
Cocktails 🎊 The Berries
✨Invitation: Chasing the Feeling by @mingsolo
🥂Hosts: Boo Seungkwan x reader
🌃 The Main Drag: When Seungkwan is tipped about a very illegal shipment being diverted to the Mauve family warehouses, he knows he has to be quick. What he realizes upon arriving is that you are already there, always a step ahead of him.
🎊 The Berries
✨Invitation: last call by @wqnwoos
🥂Hosts: Chwe Hansol x reader
🌃 The Main Drag: You didn’t expect to run into your late brother’s best friend tending bar at an illegal speakeasy — or to start falling for him. But when you realize Vernon is involved in the same kind of work that got your brother killed, liking him suddenly feels dangerous in ways you know too well.
🎊 The Berries
✨Invitation: the phantom of the cinema by @belovedgyu
🥂Hosts: Chwe Hansol x f!reader
🌃 The Main Drag: Between scandalous nights in a cinema, a love takes shape in time stolen, and a marriage built on survival. A devotion so fierce that art and memory begin to blur. As films mirror truths you’ve tried not to name, you’re forced to confront what was lost, what endures, and whether some stories deserve to be finished…no matter the cost.
🎊 The Berries
✨Invitation: bare your soul by @starlightkyeom
🥂Hosts: Lee Chan x f!reader
🌃 The Main Drag: your brother is all you have left after losing your parents, but he doesn't always make the best decisions. despite him being older, it's usually you taking care of him. when he gets into over his head with gambling debts, he turns to bare knuckle fighting in an underground ring. the money is actually decent and he's surprisingly good, until a new rival starts rising. chan is undefeated and unrelenting. you might hate him even more than your brother does.
🎊 The Berries
✨Invitation: the bride by @coupsalchemy
🥂Hosts: Lee Chan x f!reader
🌃 The Main Drag: Actress Jung, known for her spectacular hits Love, Forevermore, and La Vie En Rose, that is still housing the Capitol Movie Palace is back on the screen after a year of disappearance. Finally her hiatus comes to an end with a new movie, the bride, in production. Gossip is that the movie is inspired from her calamitous love life that has people wondering how a person, a woman, can fall in love seven times.
Will she get her heart broken for the eighth time with her rumored clandestine Choi Seungcheol or will she break her curse of ‘always a bridesmaid but never the bride’ with the entry of a new male actor in town, Lee Chan.
IN WHICH you and your friends decide to go on a trip together without having to worry about anything. But when your group's form of fun is drinking, it quickly turns into a mess. A mess you and Jihoon have to clean after them.
contains— alcohol consumption, smoking, mentions of vernon smoking and getting high, original female characters, it's a mixed friendgroup, throwing up (from alcohol), mostly a platonic relationship but it's hinted at the possibility of more, use of they/them pronouns for (who is implied to be) reader
word count— 2.9k
↪ izzy speaks... just a little trip with friends :P idk this felt like a well deserved drabble after all the smut I wrote this week loll
to ro (@shinysobi) — my favorite woozi lover ^_^ I love talking to you and I love reading the way you write Woozi. I seriously need to get on a grind of your fics soon. I know this isn't much but I enjoyed writing our little boy, so I hope you enjoy it as well <3
stupid cupid | masterlist
Trying to arrange anything with a group of adults was a lot harder than you thought it'd be. Especially when most of them are guys with either no care in the world or expectations far too high.
Which is why you're so grateful to the girls coming with, making this trip a lot more bearable for you. When you stopped asking the guys for opinions and decided to just plan everything in your little group, everything went by smoothly. Seokmin and Soonyoung still complained about not having a pool but that was the least of your worries anymore, venting everything out and only focusing on the time off you were going to get.
You grouped with Jia, Wonwoo and Jihoon in the car after winning a game of rock paper scissor against Seungkwan. Thank fucking god. You did not want to be squeezed in between Hansol and Minghao. Now, that spot was waiting for Seungkwan.
"Good job," Jihoon nods his head as soon as you sit in the back beside him, a proud grin making its way up to your lips as you nod back. "I did not want to sit beside him right now."
"You know him not riding with doesn't mean we aren't going to listen to any music, right?" Jia cocks her head back to look at the two of you, a phone in her hands showing that she is already scrolling through her liked songs.
"I don't mind music. I mind others constantly talking to me when I'm just trying to relax." Wonwoo snickers behind the wheel, shaking his head and telling Jia to straighten again so he can drive off. She listens immediately, fastening her seatbelt before connecting her phone to the speakers. You lean back in your seat as well, exchanging a few glances with Jihoon and saying everything with your eyes, smiles threatening to show up on both of you.
You drive in silence except for the occasional directions you all need to give Wonwoo — just for him to take the wrong turn either way — and the music Jia put on. It's exactly what you wanted from this vacation; a calm time with friends. There are a few plans you guys made but other than that, you can't wait to stay in bed and get some reading done. You wondered if it won't be rude at first, but knowing Jihoon was also planning on staying behind to work on some new music instantly made you snap out of it. You both deserved that quiet time in your rooms. Who cares if Seokmin will act hurt again because you didn't go out with them?
You all arrive to the airbnb around the same time, collecting all your stuff from the car and heading to check the inside. Wonwoo offers to take some of your bags but you refuse, watching as he helps Jia instead, Jihoon trailing right behind them with his headphones on and hands full.
Thankfully, dividing the rooms is not as big of a problem as last time, all of you naturally finding your own space. You take a single bunk in one of the smaller rooms, Jia and Minji sharing the queen sized bed together. It's barely even started but you are excited for this trip. You look forward to spending time with your friends, no matter how crazy you already know it will be.
♡⸝⸝♡⸝⸝
The speed in which Seokmin and Seungkwan can find the karaoke machine and take out the drinks they bought surprises you every time. And while Heesun curses herself out for listening to their demands and finding an airbnb with a karaoke machine, you find yourself laughing as the two sing their hearts out together over a breakup song — as if Seungkwan's girlfriend wasn't sitting right beside him. Bora doesn't comment on it though, watching him with a smile on her face.
Everyone joins the bunch slowly, laughing loudly just like you guys always do. You watch your friends drink happily, cheering about not having to go to work tomorrow. You support them fully, even with your alcohol-free drink. You don't plan on getting wasted on your first day here unlike some of them, deciding to lay low.
"Scoups game!" Mingyu calls out all of a sudden and you groan, quickly shaking your head. Minghao and Jihoon are both on your side, but thanks to the majority vote, the game starts anyway. You hate games like these, but definitely not more than Minghao does, the round thankfully always failing at his turn before it can reach you. He takes a shot after a shot, begging for the game to be changed.
Once Minji suggests a new out, you dip out, asking if anyone wants to go for a smoke break with you. Bora usually comes with you even though she doesn't smoke, or Hansol joins with Wonwoo sometimes, but this time, both of them leave you hanging. "I'll go," Jihoon speaks up, refusing the glass of soju Soonyoung just poured him. You smile at him, watching as he steps over Jun, trying to get out.
Taking your coat from the rack, you hand Jihoon his jacket as well, making yourself warm before walking outside. Stepping out onto the small porch, you lean on the railing, Jihoon following right after you. "Want one?" He stares at the pack of camels in your hands, hesitating. "It's okay," you shake your head, "I know you aren't a smoker."
"How about I try from you?" He suggests and you meet his eyes, trying to see if he's serious. Nodding, you hand him one, taking out your lighter from your pocket and lighting it up for him. It only takes an inhale for him to quickly pull the cigarette away, coughing out. You laugh at his furrowed brows, taking the cig from him and bringing it to your lips. "Definitely not a smoker."
"Did you never vape with Hansol either?" Jihoon quickly shakes his head at your question, hiding his expression behind his hand. "Wonwoo had a similar reaction the first time," you comment with a smile, looking forward at the small garden that comes with the place.
"Wonwoo smokes?" Jihoon's eyes widen.
You shrug, "he tried with us a few times. I don't think he's too into it, though."
He hums back, thinking about the older man, trying to remember if he's ever saw him with a cigarette or vape. Hansol, sure. But Wonwoo? It's shocking how many things he still doesn't know about his friends even though they've been together for years. Leaning on the railing right beside you, he looks at the night sky. He doesn't know how it's possible time passed by so fast already. It doesn't feel like more than two hours since you've all arrived. Guess all the games and singing blurred together.
"Why do you smoke, roro?" He asks curiously, the nickname slipping past his lips without any second thoughts.
You think about it for a moment, tilting your head to face him. "It calms me, I guess. And it feels like a well deserved break every time. Don't you have something similar that you do when you need to step back from music?"
"Working out would be that for me," he nods. "It helps me shut down and not think about anything."
"See? That's what I do when I smoke," you explain. "Usually topped with some deep talks with Hansol whenever he's high. Not that that happens often," you quickly blurt out, not knowing how much you can tell him.
He brushes you off, "I know about him, don't worry. We all do. He doesn't really hide it, not well anyway."
You hum back. Talking with Jihoon has always felt comfortable. He didn't judge you and you didn't judge him, simply existing in each other's space for a while. And while you loved smoking with Hansol and having those what if talks with him, you love the comfort you feel with Jihoon even more. It's nice being in this quiet, watching the night sky with only occasional whispers when you think about something you want to share with him.
You're in your own bubble, just you and Jihoon, well at least until Chan interrupts you, rushing out without any jacket or shoes, throwing up as soon as he reaches the grass. You groan loudly at the sight, turning away with your eyes closed. "Fucking hell."
"It's always you too," Jihoon frowns as well, sighing into his palm. "I'll go find something to clean it with. Think you could bring him a jacket or something so he doesn't freeze as well in the process?" You nod, watching Jihoon disappear inside before glancing back at the youngest, closing your eyes shut in regret immediately. You appreciate Jihoon even more at this moment. Knowing he also didn't drink tonight — except for the two beers he had at the beginning of the night — and you won't have to clean after your friends' mess all alone only makes you like him more.
Jeonghan and Seungcheol are trying to collect the guys and get them to go to bed when you come inside. Glancing at the clock on the wall, your eyes widen when you realize you've been out with Jihoon for over two hours — which makes sense considering you finished your cigarette a long time ago — trying to figure out how it's even possible for time to pass by so fast. But even when you weren't with them for a while, how on Earth did they manage to get so wasted? Shaking your head, you leave the two oldest to it, taking Chan's jacket and shoes before heading back outside.
You look up at the sky as you rub his back gently, waiting for him to get it all out. As soon as Jihoon comes back with a watering can full of water, claiming he'll try to wash it away into the mud, you step back. You'll need another cig after this.
You leave him to it, deciding to help the guys inside instead. Fortunately, by the time you come into the common room, only few last ones are left. Seokmin is fast asleep on his chair, Heesun right beside him. Mingyu smiles your way, wishing you a good night as he comes out of the kitchen after finishing putting all the dishes aside. "Aren't you going to take Seokmin with you?"
He glances at the older man, shaking his head no. "He'll be fine sleeping here. Remember last time when he slept on like ten mattresses and some of you had to sleep on the floor because of that? Think of this as a payback." You chuckle, shaking your head at him. "How's Chan by the way?"
You frown at the memory. "Jihoon is with him. How did he even get so drunk? How did all of you get so drunk?" You correct your question.
"Some of us never learned that the faster you drink, the faster the alcohol works on you," he shrugs. "They'll all be fine. I don't think anyone else is going to throw up tonight. And if so, that's on them to clean it after. They're grown, don't worry about it too much," he smiles at you, not giving you an opportunity to answer before leaving for his room.
You wake up Heesun softly, helping her get to her room. You stop yourself as soon as you open the door, seeing Seungkwan sleeping beside Bora — where Heesun should be based on the room picks you did earlier. Right. Okay.
You apologize to her as you lead her into a different room, letting her take your bed for the night. She barely mumbles her thank yous before her eyes close again, the comfort of the bed helping her fall asleep immediately.
"Everyone's good?" You shrug in response when Jihoon's question reaches you, plopping down on the couch beside him.
"Seokmin is passed out and I haven't seen anyone else walking around anymore, so I think? How about Chan?"
"Got him into his room," he assures you and you hum. "I didn't see Seungkwan in our room, though?"
"Ah," you breathe out. "He ended up sharing a bed with Bora. Looks like you'll have the room all to yourself tonight when Seokmin decided to sleep at the table."
"What about Heesun then? Where does she sleep?" He wonders, ignoring your comment.
"I put her into my bed."
A frown appears on his face, "And where do you plan to sleep then?"
You shrug, "The couch."
He watches you for a second, scanning your face to see if you're joking. "Take our room then. I'll stay on the couch and you can have the room all to yourself."
You blink at him. "No, that's okay," quickly shaking your head, you turn down his offer. But he doesn't back down, his eyebrow raised. You both just sit there for a second before you sigh, admitting defeat. "Okay, I'll take your room. But you guys have three beds, no? Don't sleep on the couch when there is a perfectly usable bed."
"You'd be okay with that?"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
He doesn't answer, only making you question him more. He shakes his head, brushing it off as if he never said anything. You've known Jihoon for years now. You've listened to all the music he's made, you were there for a lot of important moments of his career, and you watched him go through many different stages of his life, but you don't think you've ever felt as close to him as you do tonight. His eyes gaze into yours through the glasses on his face, a tired smile on his lips. If you were drinking as well tonight you might blame it on the alcohol, but he looks more attractive than you remember in the dim of the lamp behind him.
"Should we move?"
You take Jihoon's single bed while he spreads on the one for two Seungkwan and Seokmin were supposed to occupy. After both of you taking a shower and changing clothes, you fell into the beds, the late hour slowly getting to you.
"If you weren't a musician what would you do?" You ask, your eyes closed.
No response comes for a while and you wonder if he's already fallen asleep, peering up at him. "I always knew I wanted to make music so I'm not sure what road I would have taken," he mumbles. "But if I had to switch jobs right now, I guess fitness training wouldn't be bad."
You chuckle, his answer everything you expected it to be. "I'd like to write. Getting to see my books when I'm in the bookstore, knowing I wrote that, that would have been an incredible another life."
"Why don't you then?" he questions, turning to lie on his side even though he can't see you in the darkness of the room.
"Not many authors make it out there. Hard competition and all."
"So you don't even try?"
"Hey, no judgment zone," you scoff, knowing exactly what he means. It's a nice idea, but you aren't sure if you're willing to take the risk. "Your turn. Ask away."
He hesitates, thinking about all the things he wants to ask you. There's a lot. He's been wanting to get to know you more for a while, but it never felt like he had the chance with everyone around. In the end, he settles for what he's the most curious about at the moment. "Did you ever consider being with someone from our group?"
"Oh," you breathe out, the image of all your friends appearing in your mind. "I think I could see it," you hum, your memory zoning on the black haired man you are sharing a room with, the smile on his face and the look in his eyes. If you were to date anyone from your friends, it would — without any doubt — be Jihoon. With his talent and kindness, there was no questioning it. "With someone."
He hums back, pushing aside the urge to ask for more, to figure out who exactly you have in mind. "I see," he mumbles. You ask him back naturally, the same interest he feels spiking your tone. "There is someone."
"Oh?" You grin, opening your eyes to look at him again. You can't see him properly but you do catch his silhouette. "Who's the lucky girl?"
A beat of silence passes and you are already convinced he won't tell you until you hear the shift on his bed. He lays on his back, refusing to look at you as he answers. "They are someone I've admired for a while."
Your eyes widen, deciding to lay on your back as well as you stare at the ceiling. Oh. "They are?"
"Mhm," he agrees. "They are."
Silence settles over the two of you as you each look at the ceiling, thinking about what's been said tonight and the time you spent together. It's comfortable with Jihoon, natural. And if there would be anyone you could see yourself with romantically, it would be him.
"Good night," he breaks the silence carefully with your name on his lips, his voice so quiet you barely catch it.
"Good night, Jihoon," you wish back, thinking over everything again as you fall asleep.
IN WHICH There isn’t anything Kim Mingyu can come back home to, no one waiting for him at night when he gets off his shift, so when he finally takes a few days off, his plan consists of two simple things: drinks and sleep. But his world takes a spin around when he stumbles upon a group of officers arresting a young lady begging for help after a night out. If Mingyu has one weakness, it’s people in distress, especially if it involves a child in need.
pairing ↣ aviator!mingyu x fem!reader
genre ↣ fluff, smut
word count ↣ 28.4k
contains ↣ prostitution (no explicit scenes regarding prostitution tho), reader working as a prostitute, mature themes, alcohol consumption, age gap (5/6 years — not specified, only implied), reader with a child, 1920s setting, illegal activities, girl dad!mingyu
smut warnings ↣ oral (f. rec.), a bit of dry humping, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, breeding kink
↪ izzy adds... thank you so much to @studiosvt for hosting this collab!! It's been a lot of fun!! 26 fics by so many talented writers, you guys have a lot to look forward to! Also big thank you to dreamie @straylightdream for making this banner I cannot stop looking at it she got the vibe done perfectly!! I truly believe Mingyu should also get a big thank you because he is such a great man in this, I am falling for him all over again.
only lightly proof read
The house is just as he remembers — quiet, empty, lacking the personality he's beginning to realize he misses in his life.
He used to love the white walls in his house and how they'd make the space feel bigger. But lately, every time he comes back home to the emptiness, he hates how large it is more. Maybe if he had a smaller house, if he lived in a one room apartment stuffed with his things, he wouldn't even have enough time to think about these stuff. He'd be glad to drop onto his bed after work and fall asleep to the sound of people chatting into the night outside. He doesn't even have that. The streets die around eleven pm, letting the silence eat him alive.
It's been weeks since Mingyu was last able to take some time off at work. In theory, it seemed like an awesome idea — sleeping all day, seeing his friends and enjoying the thrill of illegal drinking. When he sets his travel bag in the hallway and walks into his living room, the happiness he felt from taking a break starts to slowly disappear.
With a heavy sigh on his lips, he heads towards the couch, closing his eyes and relaxing his muscles. The quiet is drowning, his heart aching as his thoughts overtake him. It's the same thing that's been haunting him for the last three years — the fear of living his life alone, with no one waiting for him at home and making his day brighter. It's scary. The idea of never finding anyone to spend this life with scares him.
He might have the money, a stable job, a life many dream about — but it's not the life he aches for. He'd exchange everything for a loving family instead in the blink of an eye if given the chance.
A curse slips past his lips as he opens his eyes again, the back of his hand resting on his forehead as he stares at the ceiling. He needs to do something with himself, occupy himself and think about different things — anything, really. As long as he can push the loneliness aside and pretend like he is okay, like he has everything he's ever wanted.
The first to come to mind are his friends — the smiles of his loved ones that always help him focus on the better things. Jumping up from the couch again, he quickly grabs his wallet and car keys, hoping his friends are home and available to keep him company.
Listening to the loudness of his car's engine, Mingyu manages to calm his thoughts for a while. He hums in a soft rhythm as he waits for the red light to turn green again. He should go dancing soon. If Seokmin isn't home — which he so desperately hopes for — maybe that should be his next destination. It's not often that he gets to listen to music unless it's his coworkers singing their lungs out on a drunken night after a successful flight. And if he's honest, they are always off tune.
Seokmin doesn't live too far away from him, and so he stops again after twenty minutes. Compared to his, Seokmin has a lot smaller place. And yet, Mingyu is certain he's never felt like it was little in any way. Min's place has always been filled with laughter and comfort ever since he knew him. It might be why he was so drawn to him in the first place, knowing the two of them would be friends right then when they spoke for the first time. It's probably also why his place was the first he thought of, driving his car here without second guessing anything.
And while Mingyu loves all of his friends, the welcoming sight of Seokmin at the door will always warm his heart and make him feel the most like he is home.
"It's been so long," Seokmin wraps his arms around his friend without questioning anything. "How have you been?" Stepping aside, he creates enough space for Mingyu to step inside, closing the door right behind him.
"It's been good," he hums, taking off his jacket. Seokmin takes it from him immediately, hanging it for him. "I just got back home. Two weeks of freedom." His friend whistles with a laugh, hurrying him into the living room so they can sit down and talk. "What about you, though? Your stories must be so much more exciting," he asks as he takes a seat on the couch, Seokmin following right behind.
"My stories?" He shakes his head with a soft laugh. "All I do is work. It's honestly incredible how you managed to catch me on my day off. Happens once in a blue moon."
"I could say the same. It feels like I've been working nonstop for the past two months," Mingyu sighs.
"That is because it's been two months since you were home. Why don't you take it easy and enjoy life while you still can? It's not like you don't have the money for it," Seokmin suggests, offering him the pie his wife made before she fall asleep on the couch and he carried her into their bedroom.
Mingyu politely refuses, saying he isn't hungry. "And what would I do if I was just home all the time? I know it might be what you wish to be able to do — stay home and spend time with your wife — but I don't have anyone to spend my free time with. It's better when I'm flying, keeping myself busy."
There is no right way Seokmin could answer. Mingyu doesn't have to say it out loud for him to understand — to see that he also has his own problems he doesn't talk about. Opening his mouth to answer, he slowly closes it again when he realizes he's not sure how. It's hard when he isn't sure what it is that bothers his friend in the first place.
"Am I dreaming or is that you, Kim?" The female voice interrupts both of their thoughts, both men turning to the door to see Seokmin's wife standing there, her eyes scanning the familiar figure she hasn't seen in months.
"In all of my glory," he smiles, getting up to hug her. "Hi, Luna."
"Min can not stop talking about how much he misses you," she whispers, low enough so that her husband won't hear. It makes Mingyu chuckle, a soft smile decorating his face as he steps back and takes in the sight of her.
"Marriage suits you," he comments, making her roll her eyes. "I hope you're not making it too hard for him, though. You know he is weak."
"I can hear you guys," Seokmin interrupts them with a scoff, joining his wife's side and wrapping his arm around her waist. "Did you sleep well?" He asks as he presses a kiss to her temple. Mingyu watches, his smile faltering for a split second. It's quick, neither of his friends noticing, but he feels it — the way his heart aches at the sight, wishing for the same thing. He needs booze. And he needs it now.
"I'm sorry for waking you up, Luna. Maybe we should go someplace else? Give the lady her well deserved relax," he offers, trying to sound considerate instead of desperate.
"You guys should go and have fun," she agrees, glancing at her husband to assure him it's okay to leave her alone. "You two haven't seen each other in ages," she continues and even though Mingyu isn't sure if she saw right through him or not, he appreciates what she's doing for him. "How long will you be in town for?"
"Two weeks. I should get back in the air after that."
"So a plenty of time for us to catch up," she grins. "Go have fun together and we can sit down a different day. You'll tell me all about your travels and if you met any interesting people," she winks at him with a smile, one he decides to ignore. Glancing at Seokmin instead, he waits for him to give his opinion.
"Alright," he grins. "Let's get the guys to join us and have some fun." He glances at his wife, pulling her into a reassuring kiss before joining Mingyu's side. "While staying on our best behavior, of course."
"Right," she shakes her head, rushing them off. Laughter echoes of the walls, just like Mingyu is used to. Seokmin's home has always been like this — a place he wishes to come back to much more than his own house.
♡⸝⸝
Seokmin leads him through the streets of New York, visiting alleys Mingyu never stepped into. Every time he's visited Seungcheol or Minghao, he drove to their house. He genuinely can't remember if he's ever walked to their places ever since they all settled down. Maybe that's what makes this quiet walk to precious.
As soon as all four of them are together again, just like they used to be all the time before falling into the adult life and worrying about work, money, and living, all his worries seem to disappear. His mind quiets, now only filled with the thoughts of the speakeasy they will lead him to. He tries his best to focus on the road as they move, but he quickly gives up when he realizes he's never set foot in these streets. He'll just have to hope he can catch a taxi back home later.
Grabbing the closest empty table they see, all four of them fall into the booth, the singer's voice ringing in their ears immediately. It's loud despite it only being around seven pm, the bar filled with people. "I'll go order, first round is on me," Seungcheol proclaims.
"Thanks, I'll get the next one," Seokmin smiles, watching him walk off to the bar.
Mingyu soon stops counting the number of drinks he's had. He loses count when whiskey joins the table, the liquor sliding down his throat with ease. It might be the alcohol honestly, but the more he listens to his friends talking about how life's been treating them, the more he misses them. Being in the skies all the time gives him the freedom he wishes for along with a fresh mind, but it also takes away from him nights like these. With his ears red from the alcohol, he doesn't even notice Seungcheol leaving the table, nor the fact he hasn't come back yet even though it's already been forty minutes.
"I need to piss," he blurts out, settling his empty shot glass down on the table.
"Don't throw up!" Minghao calls after him and Mingyu just waves him off with his hand. It's then that he catches a glimpse of Cheol, leaning against the bar and talking with some girl — one of the singers he assumes due to her clothing. Shaking his head at him, he looks ahead again, focusing on not tripping over his own feet and getting to the toilet.
When he comes back, Cheol is back at their table with two girls beside him. He wants to be shocked, act like he is surprised, but the emotions don't come. If anything, he's expected this. Seungcheol always knew how to act around women, how to speak and behave. Yet, somehow he was just as single as Mingyu. Well, except for the fact he is sure Cheol has women sleeping over at his place, even if it's just for pleasure.
"There he is," Cheol smiles, telling him with his eyes to play into whatever his plan is. "I'm sure the two of you would find some things in common." Mingyu's eyes widen for a split second before he quickly composes himself again, taking in the sight of the brunette looking up at him. This is certainly not the best time to be meeting any women, but he can try his best.
Taking a seat beside her, he avoids meeting eyes with the guys, too scared of what they have to say. "I've heard many things about you," she says, her voice low enough so only he can hear.
"Like?"
"You haven't married yet."
Right. With two of his friends in a happy marriage and Seungcheol occupied with her friends, all that was left for her was him. "What's your name?" He asks instead of acknowledging what she said, watching as she leans forward slightly, giving him a clear view at her cleavage if he wanted to. He keeps his eyes on hers, refusing to let them fall down. It doesn't seem to please her much. "Choi Hyuna." He repeats her name, trying how it sounds on his lips. It's plain if he is honest. "Do you work here? Do you sing?"
"Yes," she shrugs, straightening her back again. "I'm on in thirty minutes." He nods, glancing at the current woman on stage whose voice fills the room. "Will you watch me?"
Meeting her eyes again, he finds nothing but lust behind them. "If you want me to," he nods. "I could."
"You should," she smiles. "You should wait for my performance to be over and help me home." Unfortunately for her, stuff like these never worked for him. Simple night tangled in each others warmth just to never see each other again was never something he hoped for. If she wasn't with her friend, she might have had a chance with Seungcheol and find better luck there.
"Maybe," he forces a smile, grabbing the first beer he sees on the table and taking a sip. The conversation doesn't flow as he'd wish for it to. Hyuna constantly tries to touch his biceps or thigh, doing everything she is used to working on the other guys that visit the speakeasy. But as Mingyu's responses become more and more timid, her frustration only grows.
He only feels like he can breathe again when she leaves the table to go up on the stage. With a heavy sigh leaving his lips, he relaxes in his seat. "Should we get another round?" He asks, looking around at his friends. Well, the remaining ones as Seungcheol manages to escape the bar a few minutes ago with the girl hanging on his arm.
"I should head back home," Seokmin shakes his head. "I miss my wife."
"Of course, you're right," Mingyu agrees. "Say hi to Luna for me." His eyes trail to Minghao, a hopeful look on his face. But as soon as he meets his friend's eyes, he knows he doesn't plan to stay with him either. "You should get back as well."
"Come visit some day," Minghao says as he stands up. "We do a game night with the guys every Friday, you should come. And you can tell us all about your new girl," he motions towards Hyuna on stage. Mingyu nods despite disgust spreading through his entire body just at the thought of that — of calling her his girl. It's not like she did anything wrong, deep down he understands her, but it's also not something he could do. All he can do for her is wish she finds someone else, someone who would fit her preferences more.
Mingyu doesn't leave the speakeasy right after his friends do, buying himself another shot as he watches Hyuna on the stage, forcing a smile whenever she looks his way. She has a nice voice, and the longer he listens, the more he thinks she was made to do exactly this — sing on a stage. It's nice when something like this happens, when people find their calling. A part of him wonders if his friends looks at him and think the same — that what he does is something he was made for, that being in the air truly is what he is meant to do. He hopes so.
The watch on his hand clearly says two in the morning. He didn't mean to stay for so long but he just couldn't find it in himself to leave. Once he did, it was only because Hyuna was getting off the stage and he was scared she'd want to talk to him again. It's pathetic really. He is pathetic. He spends all his time thinking about what it'd be like if he had someone's company, if he wasn't just alone all the time, and yet the moment a woman is interested in him, he can't even talk to her properly.
Maybe he should have tried. He should have talked to her more, get to know her before writing her off and labeling her as someone who wouldn't look his way if it wasn't for the fact all his other friends were already spoken for. A part of him debates turning around and seeing her again, but he quickly snaps out of it, reminding himself how that conversation would go and that he isn't wrong for wanting more than she has to offer.
"Please! I'm sorry! I won't—"
"Quiet!"
Mingyu's eyes snap up when the argument reaches his ears, freezing when he sees a group of officers from the sheriff department holding a lady and trying to drag her to their car. It takes a mere second for his feet to move again, this time faster than before, trying to get to the scene as quickly as possible. "What's going on here?" He yells loud enough for them to hear, catching the attention of two of them.
"This doesn't concern you!" One of them yells. By the starting wrinkles on his face and the color of his hair, he'd guess he is in his late forties. Why on Earth is a grown man like this holding a lady who couldn't be any older than twenty three in a way that could easily break her arm if he doesn't control his strength properly.
"I think it does," he argues. "You're going to hurt her!" He points out, hoping to get them to back off. He presses further, asking them to let her go and explain why they are arresting her. It doesn't seem to go like he wishes for it to, though, the officers' anger only growing.
"Please," you interrupt, avoiding the strangers eyes as you beg for forgiveness. "I know what I did was wrong. I know. Please, just let me go this once, I promise I won't show up here again," you quickly shake your head, your pleading eyes flickering between all four officers around you. "I have a daughter waiting for me. I can't— she needs me."
Mingyu's eyes widen at your pleas, something in him snapping as he listens to you. "How much for letting her off?" It's a risk. He can't know if he's using the right method, if it won't just rile them up more and he won't end up in a cell right beside you, but at the moment, it is a risk he is willing to take.
He watches the officers hesitate, exchanging a look before slowly dropping their arms to their sides. He doesn't wait for them to name their price, reaching into his pocket and taking a handful of clams. Handing it to the eldest of them, he finally looks at you too, looking for any bruises they could have left with their hold. "Is that good?" By the gawking eyes of theirs, he guesses it is. Well then, he doesn't need to bother himself with them anymore then. "Are you okay?"
"Thank you," you mumble without meeting his eyes, staying still until the group drives off.
"Do you need a ride home?" He asks, his head tilted as he watches you.
It's then that you finally meet his eyes, caught of guard when you see the brown orbs, watching you as if you were something fragile. You quickly shake your head at his offer. The idea of having a stranger drive you home and find out where you live doesn't sound too appealing. His eyes stay on you even after you refuse, making you sigh. "I didn't lie before. I need to get back home. Can you come back tomorrow? I can do something for you then I just—"
"That's not why I helped," he interrupts you, stopping you before you can finish. "I don't want anything in return. I just want to know you're okay."
"It's never just out of a good heart," you mumble as you walk past him. He turns with you, keeping his eyes on your figure. He hesitates, watching you move further away from him. He can't get his feet to move, to catch up onto you and ask you once more if you're okay. With your earlier implication, he is scared you'll take it the wrong way again, and he'll just end up bothering you the same way the officers did.
"Wait!" He calls once you're at the end of the alley, ready to walk away and never see him again. "What's your name?"
You stop mid step when his voice reaches you, your shoulders visibly tense no matter how he looks at it. Closing his mouth again, he regrets calling after you. He should have just left you alone, let you get back home to your daughter and pretend he never saw you.
You glance over your shoulder, taking in the sight of him — nervous and hesitant despite your first impression of him being completely different thanks to the muscles and height he carries. "Neve," you tell him your work name, not giving him a chance to say anything back before disappearing into the night.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
Neve.
The name repeats in his head over and over again.
It was three am when he got back home, struggling to get out of his clothes so he could shower before falling into his bed. He ended up catching a taxi that took him home, riding with his window rolled down in hopes of the fresh air helping him sober up. When he spoke to you and the officers, it felt like adrenaline took over, helping him think rationally for a moment. But as soon as he sat in the back of the yellow car, he started to feel the alcohol in his system.
The shower helped a bit too, but he still ended up falling into his bed naked, not bothered enough to put his pajama pants on. Sleep caught up to him right after. But even then, you stayed on his mind. His dream was full of you, your figure everywhere he looked, your scared eyes finding his in an instant. It's the memory of the officers holding you that clouds his thoughts, worries of what could have happened if he didn't show up making it hard for him to sleep.
Even when he wakes up at noon and goes to cook lunch for himself, you are still all he can think about. If you got home safe last night, if you got to your daughter, if everything is okay.
As if in trance, he finds himself leaving his house and following his and Seokmin's footsteps, exploring the streets of New York on his own this time. It's stupid, he knows it is. But for some reason, he hopes that by some luck, he'll be able to see you again if he goes into the same alley. That the universe will be on his side this time and he'll get a chance to calm his mind when he sees you are safe.
However, as soon as he reaches the alley, he wishes more and more he won't find you here. It's only now that he walks through the street that he realizes properly where he is, his smile falling and his brows furrowing further every time he passes a homeless person sleeping on the cold ground. He'd like to think that if it was a different situation, he would worry and try to find a way to help them, but right now, all he can think about is if you go through the same thing — if he'll find you sleeping somewhere on the ground as well; with your daughter cuddled up with you.
It doesn't make sense for him to worry so much. All he knows about you is your name after all. But just like all throughout the night, it's you who clouds his mind. The deeper into the alley he walks, the more scared he gets, slowly regretting his decision. Would it have been better if he let the officers take you last night? Would it be better to let you spend a night in jail and stay warm? Maybe he shouldn't have messed with you and think better about his decisions. It's all he can think about, the different ways the night could have went. But when he remembers what you said, begging for them to let you go because you need to get to your daughter, he doesn't regret helping you in the slightest.
"Now, this is the most perfect cat I've ever seen." Mingyu's eyes follow the voice, finding a woman on the side eyeing him up and down. She looks his age, twenty six if he had to guess. "It's not often I see such handsome men around here," she continues, eyeing him like he's a pray she's going to hunt. "Wouldn't you like to come inside with me?" She bats her eyelashes at him, her words making his eyes trail to the building behind her. It looks ordinary from the outside, nothing special about the building. He looks through the window, noticing an empty stage and a bar inside. For some reason he doubts it is simply a speakeasy, though.
"I'm sorry," he smiles politely, taking a step back. "I don't think I'm in the right place." She smiles back, a sign she understands his refusal. He looks back at the way he came from, ready to give up on this meaningless hunt and go back to his house, but something in him stops him, making him take in the sight of her again. It feels like an invisible force, the universe keeping him where he should be. "Do you know Neve?" He blurts out the question before he can think about how strange he'll look if she doesn't.
She tilts her head, pretending to think, her black hair falling into her face. He sees right through her, understanding what those clueless eyes of her long for. Taking out his wallet, he pulls out a few banknotes and watches as her eyes widen at the sight. She reaches forward and he places them in her hand. She tugs the money into her top happily, smiling when she meets his eyes again. "Neve works with me."
A colleague. Okay, that's a start. There are many things he wants to ask her about — where you live, what it is you do, what you like, what you hate — but she beats him to it, talking again. "She is usually on time but she hasn't came in today yet," she mumbles, the complain falling off her lips as if she's been waiting to talk badly about you all day. "I hate working out here but guess who had to cover for her?"
"Why do you hate working here?" He interrupts her, tilting his head confusedly.
"You're cute," she comments, leaning back against the wall behind her. "You have no idea, huh? It's dangerous out here," she shrugs simply. "Much more than when I'm working inside. Out here, flirting with men, one wrong move and I can say hello to the big house."
That's all he needs to hear in order to connect the dots, his eyes widening at the realization. Of course. It now makes sense why you were under arrest when he met you, why you were outside so late at night with your clothes hugging your body and revealing more skin that was probably comfortable with the night air around. Alcohol warmed him up last night so he walked around in just a shirt, but if it wasn't for it he'd definitely want a jacket on top.
"Could you tell her I stopped by? Whenever she comes in."
"I guess," she shrugs. "Is that all you want me to say?"
"Tell her my name is Mingyu and I'm not asking for any compensation no matter what she thinks. All I want is to know if she's okay."
Nodding, she eyes him up and down, deciding to try her luck once more. "And you're sure you don't want to come in?"
Forming an apologetic smile on his lips, he shakes his head again. "Looking for that sort of company is not for me…" he trails off, hoping she can introduce herself when he asks for her name with his eyes.
"Jisoo," she finishes for him. "Suit yourself," she hums, fixing her dress and stepping from the wall. She stops beside him, looking up to meet his eyes. "If there is one thing we learn on the job, it's that men always want something in return. It's hard to trust one when he says otherwise, especially since most of us got burned in the past. If you truly mean what you said, though, then know that you have my admiration."
Looking down at her, he finds himself repeating her words in his head. She pats his biceps gently, smiling at another guy currently passing by. Mingyu steps aside, barely looking at her again as he walks back the path he walked here through. "I'll come back again tomorrow!" He calls before getting too far away, catching Jisoo's smile before she gives her full attention to the young man in front of her.
♡⸝⸝
One would think nothing can get lost in a one-room apartment. Well, they would be wrong. As you frantically look all over the place, searching for the baby medicine you are convinced you have somewhere, you are once again reminded that things can get lost everywhere. As if this forsaken cursed apartment wasn't enough on top of your daughter crying beside your leg because she is in pain, you are late for work.
"I know, baby," you coo, picking her up into your arms and looking through the bathroom again. When you don't find anything, you just pray your little girl's fever will go down on its own. You're not sure how you'd be able to deal with it if it doesn't. Hurrying outside, you stop in front of your neighbor's door, knocking as if your life would depend on it. If you're honest, it does. You need him to open the door.
Thankfully, the door opens just as you snap your palm on it again and you stand face to face with your neighbor. You don't greet him or ask how he is doing. Instead, you try putting on your best smile, "Please, Jihoon, just until—"
"No," he shakes his head, stopping you before you can even finish your sentence. You don't need to voice it fully for him to understand what you're asking, his eyes falling to the girl you hold tightly in your arms. He looks mad, which you more than understand. But you need him. You can't just waltz into work with your daughter's hands wrapped around your neck as she cries because of the sickness that has gotten to her.
You met Jihoon when you first moved in, a few weeks after your daughter was born when you started working for your boss. He never cared about you much, barely sharing hello's with you when you'd pass him on your way into your apartment. The two of you were never friends, far from it actually, but when he learned about your situation, seeing as you'd leave your daughter with some questionable looking people — that he has later found out you met through work — he offered to help looking after her from time to time.
He truly saved you back then. Had it not been for him, who knows how things would look like right now. Which is also why you appreciate him so much. And even though you know you can't just rely on him all the time, he is the only one you truly trust with your baby.
"You need to find a real babysitter," he mumbles. "I can't be doing this charity work all the time."
"I will," you blurt out, desperate to convince him to look after her while you go to work. He sighs, reaching out his arms and taking your daughter from you. She immediately wraps her baby arms around him, leaning into the comfort he always gives her. You quickly run down the hallway, glancing over your shoulder one more time before reaching the stairs. "I'll help you out when I get back!"
There's a clear implication in your voice, one that makes him roll his eyes and shake his head. "I'd rather you not!" He yells back, making you giggle as you rush down the stairs, trying to get to work as quickly as you can. Jihoon's eyes trail from your figure to your daughter in his arms, a soft smile on his lips. "Come on, Nabi, let's get your fever down so you can come to the studio with me." She cries for her mama and he just slowly rubs her back, taking her back inside with him.
You curse yourself out as you try to fix your clothes while running through the streets. You are so terribly late. You were supposed to start at five — a hour and half ago. You are so terribly screwed. By the time you reach the speakeasy it'll be 6:42, 6:40 if you're lucky and fast enough. Your boss is going to kill you.
You can't help and think of the worst case scenarios. Despite being your boss' favorite, slip ups like these certainly won't help you keep her on your side. There are many ways she could destroy your life if she wanted to — not paying for your apartment and kicking you out on the streets, sending the sheriff department to you so they could take your daughter away after finding out what you do, cutting your pay; the list doesn't end.
"You're late," Jisoo grumbles as soon as you come into her field of view.
"I know. I'm so sorry. Nabi has got a fever and—"
"I don't care," she interrupts you. "Save that for the boss. I'm not the one who needs explanation." Jisoo moves away, stopping with her hand on the door knob. You watch her hesitate, hovering there. It almost looks like she isn't sure if she doesn't want to stay, if she doesn't want to keep your position. A heavy sigh leaves her and she drops the knob, meeting your eyes. You tilt your head confusedly. "A guys stopped by asking for you earlier.
"Who?" Your brows furrow together.
"He was tall, broad shoulders, dark hair and annoyingly gentle eyes. His name is Mingyu," she waits, scanning your face to see if you recognize him. You think you do, you think you know exactly who she is talking about. "He said he doesn't want anything in return, or something along those lines. And that he'll be back tomorrow." You nod to her, waiting for more. But more doesn't come, and before you can ask her anything else about him, she disappears inside.
Your thoughts trail back to the man from last night as you stand in front of the door, looking for customers. You have no doubt it's the same man. You couldn't look at him properly in the dark but from the glimpses you did catch, he would fit Jisoo's description. And who else would be so stupid and run back here again, just to check on your apparently? It doesn't make any sense, the way he acts. How could anyone with even a little rational thoughts care so much about a stranger?
When you think back to last night, it makes even less sense. Not only has he rushed to save you, but he spent his money on you as if it meant nothing. You saw the sum, the great amount that would make your life so much easier if you had gotten your hands on it. No one in their right mind would do that. No matter how high he sits on the food chain, no matter how much money he has, you can't figure out a single reason why he'd want to help you out of all people.
Maybe you could understand if he wanted to use your service for free, if he asked for you inside just to enjoy the power he holds after you after helping you out. But he hasn't done that. And for some reason, you don't feel like he will either. You know it would make sense, that it's something you should expect from him, from any men that wanders around you, but just like Jisoo said; his eyes look too gentle to make you believe he'd do that.
You're not sure how you feel about the last part, about knowing he wants to come back here to see you, about promising he'll be back. You can't figure out what he'll do, and if you're honest, that scares you much more than the typical men you meet on the job.
♡⸝⸝
Jihoon is already at home when you come back, the hallways dark due to the late hour. He looks sleepy when he opens the door to face you, seeing your awkward smile. "She's fell asleep as soon as we got back," he says, stepping aside so you could walk inside. "I gave her medicine and her fever went down too, so hopefully she'll be good for the rest of the night."
"Seriously, thank you so much," you say, unable to express with words how grateful you are for everything he does for you and your daughter. "My boss said she can get me some medicine soon too so if it comes back, I'll be able to get the fever back down." He nods, leading you towards his bed where Nabi peacefully sleeps, her little arms and legs sprawled all over.
"Did you think about a babysitter like I mentioned?" He asks after a moment of silence, making you look his way again. "I could help you look for someone." You bite the inside of your cheek, unable to tell him about your struggles — about the way you doubt you'd be able to pay another person to look after her despite your boss paying half of your rent — so instead you simply nod, forcing on a smile.
"Yeah, it'd be great if you could help."
He hums back, coming closer to his bed and gently scooping Nabi up, careful enough not to wake her up. "I'll carry her, come on," he nods towards the door and you nod, following him back out. You open your apartment door, allowing him to step inside and look at the mess your space is as he take her to bed. He doesn't mention it, but you see his eyes trail over the things on the floor and the stack of clothing just sitting on your kitchen counter. He settles her on the bed and turns to face you again.
You watch as his eyes scan your figure, obviously debating if he should say something or leave it be. You interrupt him before he can open his mouth, not wanting to hear it right now. "Do you think you could look after Nabi tomorrow as well? Just for like an hour or two, I swear it won't be long."
"Isn't it your day off tomorrow?" He questions, tilting his head slightly.
"It is," you agree. "I just need to take care of something. I swear I won't be longer than those two hours, through," you try your best puppy eyes on him. You are confident it won't take longer than two hours. That is the maximum you are willing to wait on Mingyu for. He doesn't get any more.
To your surprise, the eyes actually seem to work as he sighs, running his hand through his hair. "I can't believe I always get wrapped up in your stuff," he murmurs under his breath before finally accepting, your smile widening.
"Thank you, you are so amazing, Jihoon," you cross the space between you, wrapping your arms around his neck without hesitation. He doesn't hug you back but you don't need him to. You know he cares either way. He wouldn't be doing you all these favors if he didn't.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
"If anything comes up, I'll be at work, okay?" You remind Jihoon as he takes Nabi from your hands and she immediately nuzzles into his neck, just like she always seems to.
"We are going studio!" She smiles happily, the hole in her teeth obvious.
"Not today," Jihoon shakes his head. "Today we'll be home waiting for mama, okay?" Her smile falters for a second before she glances back at you, her round cheeks making you smile as well. You promise her you'll be back soon and she just nods, wiggling down from Jihoon's arms before running to hug your leg. She looks much more lively than she did yesterday now that her fever has gone, and you love seeing her like this. You debate just staying home and not going anywhere as your tiny version hangs around your leg, but when Jihoon reaches out his hand to her and she happily runs into his apartment, you shake the thought off. You know she'll have fun with Jihoon, and that's what is important.
It's not that a part of you wants to see Mingyu and see what he has to say, you convince yourself as you walk away. It's truly just about the fact Nabi will have a great time playing with your neighbor. Nothing else.
You take your time, not rushing anywhere. When you ran yesterday, it took you 12 minutes to get to the speakeasy. It takes you 25 today. You awkwardly smile at the girl standing outside of the speakeasy, her hands wrapped around a man's shoulders but her eyes anywhere but on him. It feels weird seeing what you do almost every day from afar, the uneasy feeling in your stomach staying with you even as you take your eyes off her.
Deciding to wait on the opposite side of the alley so you wouldn't be in her business, you lean against the dusty building behind you. Closing your eyes, you wait if Mingyu does show up after all.
"Neve!" The voice causes you to open your eyes again. Turning your head to face him, you feel caught off guard when your eyes land on his figure. You knew he was coming. He promised Jisoo he would come back. But somehow, deep down, you didn't want to believe it. There is no reason for him to. He isn't making any sense again. "Hi," he reaches you with a soft smile and you hum back in response, averting your eyes and letting them drop to the ground beneath your feet.
Mingyu stands beside you, leaning his back against the wall just like you, his arm brushing against your shoulder. "I came by yesterday," he speaks, his voice low, careful.
"I know."
Silence settles over the two of you and you slowly raise your head again, meeting eyes with the girl from before. The guy you saw with her before is now kissing her neck, but her eyes are on you, judging you even from afar. You can't blame her. She probably thinks you are stealing her possible clients.
"Is it about me?" You ask, forcing your eyes off the girl as the uneasy feeling reaches you again. "Did you refuse my offer because you don't find me appealing enough? If you'd like the company of a different girl in return I might be able to arrange something—"
"No!" He interrupts you, much more eager than he wanted to sound. He shakes his hands in the air frantically, making your eyes widen due to his panic. "That's not why I came here. I don't care about any of that."
"What is it then?"
"You've been on my mind, so I wanted to make sure you were okay. That you got home safe to your daughter. I was just worried."
"Oh," you breath out, blinking as you look at him.
Mingyu makes zero sense to you. People never do anything selflessly. No one is just so good to be throwing money around without a single care in the world and instead of asking anything in return wondering about if you are safe. All throughout your life, it has always been about people wanting something from you, and if you couldn't give it to them, they'd just throw you out like an old, used up, piece of furniture.
"I'm okay," you assure him.
He smiles, "that's good." Your eyes flicker all over his face, taking in his features and trying to find an explanation to your questions, anything that would help you understand his motives. "How about your daughter? What's her name?"
You hesitate, reminding yourself it's a stranger you are talking to. He doesn't know you and you don't know him. So why should you tell him anything about the most important person in your life? But for some reason, despite your brain cursing at you not to tell him, to turn around and never speak to him again, your mouth does the exact opposite. "Nabi."
Seeing sparks in this grown man's eyes wasn't something you expected, but it happens. "A butterfly," he comments and you raise an eyebrow, questioning what he is talking about. "Her name. It means butterfly, does it not?" Little shocked, you nod, agreeing. A beautiful grin decorates his face right after. "It's adorable. Neve and Nabi." It rolls off his lips with ease, and you hate how much you like the sound of it.
You take a moment before correcting him, telling him your real name. He repeats it after you, just as happy as before. It makes you roll your eyes. "Where did Neve come from then?"
"It's my work name," you explain. "I don't really… it can be dangerous when others know your actual name." He hums to show he understands, his smile falling as he unconsciously glances at the speakeasy — or what he believes it's supposed to be on the outside — and meets eyes with the girl watching the two of you. She smiles at him as a different man trails her curves with his hands and it makes Mingyu frown, taking his eyes off immediately.
It's quiet for a bit after, but you don't mind. It's comfortable. Well, until Mingyu breaks the silence again. "Can I ask something?"
"You've been asking me things," you tell him, watching him curiously. His smile is nervous as he takes in the sight of you in. You feel his eyes everywhere — on your face, arms, legs — but for some reason it doesn't feel the same as when the guys you work with eye you like this. While their eyes have always been hungry, only thinking about where they'll put their hands first, his eyes feel gentle, like he is actually appreciating you.
"Will you go out for a dinner with me?"
Your eyes widen at his question and you quickly shake your head. You had a few guesses on what he might ask, but none of them were this. "I need to be at home and cook for my daughter," you turn his offer down, but he doesn't seem to back out easily.
"Let me take both of you to dinner then," he changes his offer, leaning against the building while keeping his eyes on you. You look at him with nothing but awe, wondering what happened with the universe, what shift was made for you to even be having this conversation at the moment. You've had your clients ask you out before when they were satisfied with your work, but this is far from how it is with them.
As he waits patiently for your answer, you are once again reminded you don't understand Mingyu and his deal. Nothing about the way he acts and treats you makes sense.
You don't get the chance to answer before your name rings in your ears, followed by a loud "Mama!" call. Turning around, you see Nabi in Jihoon's arms, smiling when she notices you. You smile back at her, unable to hide the happiness you feel every time you get her back from him.
"I'm sorry, I know you asked for two hours but something came up and I need to go." He apologizes as you take her into your arms. You quickly shake your head, assuring him you understand. You wonder what it is he needs to do but he just brushes you off with another apology before running off, obviously in a hurry.
Finally looking at Mingyu again, you see him already focused on you, his eyes flickering between you and your daughter. He is smiling, his eyes soft and welcoming. Nabi looks at him the same, admiring him as if he was an Angel walking this Earth. He might be. You haven't crossed that option out yet. It takes him a second to take his eyes off the little girl in your arms but as soon as he does, they lock with yours again. "Dinner, my treat. That's all I ask in return for that night. Nothing more, nothing less."
You still feel hesitant, but it is true you owe him as much. Had it not been for him, who knows where you'd be now, where Nabi would be now. You'd like to think Jihoon would take her in and protect her, but you can never be sure. "Okay," you nod. "You can take us out for a dinner." His grin widens as you tell him your address, insisting on him being on time otherwise you're not going anywhere.
He promises he will be there.
♡⸝⸝
Mingyu isn't sure why he feels so nervous as he paces his house, debating if the casual suit he put on is too much or too little. There are many other things he could — and probably should — stress about, but at the moment, the peek of his worries is if you'll like the clothes he put on. He wanted to see Seokmin and Luna before coming to pick you up, but with the time he already spent on thinking where he'll take you, he can't waste any more minutes.
It's been a while since he felt like this, since something other than work mattered to him so much, which is probably also why he has the stupid smile on his lips as he gets into his car. Paying the officers off that night was truly an act of his heart without any ulterior motives, but after spending the last two nights without much sleep and you occupying his thoughts, he needed to do something about it.
The first night when he managed to get home, it were his worries that kept him awake, wondering if you got home to your daughter.
The second night, after seeing your coworker and the people around, worries about your safety were joined by wondering how you live, what your house might look like, if you eat with your daughter dinner every day or if you are too busy to come back on time.
As he drove to the same alley earlier, the thoughts about you didn't stop, they only grew. When Seokmin and Luna started seeing each other and Min would tell him about how much he misses his girlfriend every time they hang out, Mingyu didn't understand. But now, as he finds his mind wandering to questions he wants to ask you when he sees you, he finally starts to get what he meant. It might have been crazy considering you were far from being with him, but he couldn't help it.
And the more he talked to you, the more he wanted to ask about anything and everything that came to mind. He might have convinced himself it was pure curiosity, a simple interest in how other people in New York live, but the moment he saw another guy holding your daughter and acting as if you were close, the spark of jealousy he felt made him look at the situation much clearly — he wasn't just interested in your way of life, he was interested in you.
Seungcheol would probably laugh in his face if he heard about all the thoughts he's had in the past few days, but Seokmin and Luna would understand. He is certain about that. Back when they met, Seokmin told him there was an immediate spark, a look in the eyes that made him absolutely certain he wanted to be with her. When Mingyu listened to him, he thought it was cute.
Now, experiencing it himself, it felt scary.
If he could compare the feeling to anything, it would be free falling. Which is exactly what he's thinking about as he drives through the busy streets of New York, scanning all the street names with his eyes and trying to find the one you live at.
Mingyu truly believes he has the greatest luck of everyone in this country, otherwise he wouldn't have been able to arrive in time. Driving through the city also made him realize how little he knows his own hometown, and that he might have to spend more time on roads than in the air.
"Hi," he smiles as he reaches you already waiting outside of your apartment building, Nabi in your arms with her eyes sparkling as soon as she notices Mingyu.
"Hi," you smile back, your eyes flickering between him and your daughter. "Nabi, look, this is Mingyu. Can you say Gyu?"
"Gyu," she repeats after you, looking at you for approval before reaching her hand towards him. As Mingyu stands there, watching her tiny outstretched hand, asking to be held by him, it feels like the free falling finally stops. His eyes soften, his smile bright as day as he asks you if it's okay for him to hold her.
"Promise not to drop her?"
"Promise," he nods, certain. You nod as well, handing her to him and taking in the sight, your heart shattering a little. She's always been clingy with Jihoon, but this is the first time you're seeing her like this with anyone else. And the look in his eyes as he holds her tiny hand in his rather large one certainly isn't helping how you feel. "Hey, little butterfly. Are you going to get dinner with me and mommy?"
"Dinner with mama!" She agrees, a giggle escaping her lips.
"Dinner with mama," he repeats after her, his eyes finally flickering to you again. "You have a beautiful mama, Nabi, do you know?" He doesn't take her eyes off you as he speaks to your daughter, but that only makes you feel hotter, your cheeks catching a light pink as you shake your head at him, unable to hide the smile on your face. "Shall we? I am parked around the corner."
"You drove here?" Your eyes widen. You knew he was rich, of course you did, but somehow you didn't think of the fact he might have a car. It's weird how your brain immediately classifies him as a higher up, someone completely out of your league, who you shouldn't be able to talk to so casually. But the moment you meet his eyes, it doesn't feel like that at all. He is there, right in front of you, sharing that stupid smile with your daughter as if going out with you was a normal Tuesday tradition.
"Yeah," he nods, a bit confused at your surprise. "It's not exactly close to my house and I didn't want to sweat too much before even seeing you," he shrugs.
"I see," you mumble, averting your eyes from him and quickly walking past him so he can't see just how unreal that sounds to you. He follows right after you, not letting you get ahead. It's easy for him, with his long legs he catches up to you in an instant. "Where are we going?"
"You'll see," is all he says before steadying Nabi with one hand and grabbing yours with the other so he could tug you with himself towards his car. Despite you trying your best not to, the warmth of his hand makes you feel at home.
"Wait, is it safe to put a child this small into a car? What if we crash, what if someone crashes into us from behind?" His eyes widen as he hesitates with his car door open, the panic written all over his face. It makes you laugh.
"Those are things that can happen even without a child in a car, are they not?" He nods hesitantly as you take Nabi from him again and slip past him into the back of his car, holding her in your lap. "Does this make you feel better? Me holding her?"
He doesn't say anything, simply watching you for a moment before finally nodding and closing the door behind you. "It would have been better if you sat in the front, but a guy can only dream, hm?" He glances over his shoulder and you roll your eyes. You hate that his stupid smile works wonders on you.
You were in a similar position when you were nineteen, falling for a guy who flashed his white teeth at you and made you feel like you were a star glowing in the sky. In only lead to you losing your life, and if that's what some stupid smile can do, you don't want to fall for another one.
"You should start driving before I leave the car and decide to just eat one of the canned foods we have at home," you say, forcing him to look forward again.
"I'd rather you don't," he answers, briefly looking at you one more time before driving off.
As Mingyu parks the car in front of a restaurant the size of half of the apartment building you live in, your eyes widen. He doesn't stop surprising you. "This isn't where we are eating, is it?" You gawk at the front while he steps out of the car. He's lucky you are too busy admiring the space to open your own door, feeling a little giddy as he opens it for you and extends his hand forward to help you out. "Mingyu," you warn as you look up at him, still sitting inside.
"Come on out," he encourages, refusing to take his eyes off you.
"This is too much. No," you shake your head. "Let's go to like a chuckwagon or something. We can go back to my place, I don't have that much at home but it's enough to feed all three of us, come on."
Your name slips past his lips, a gentle sound that echoes in your ears. "Just hold my hand and follow me, will you?"
"I don't fit in that kind of a place," you still refuse while Nabi watches you confusedly, her curious eyes flickering between you and Mingyu. "You might eat out with your friends a lot and dress in suits and drive cars but," you hesitate, hating how sincere he looks as he still holds out his hand for you, giving you the time to speak but not backing down. "I'm not even dressed for a place like that," you settle for the that simple fact, looking down on your sweater and long skirt. You want to say much more, that you don't and never will belong in a fancy place like that, that you definitely can't afford eating there, or that you are scared of the people inside and their dirty looks.
"You are gorgeous," is all he says before finally dropping his hand to his side and taking a step forward, crouching down on the ground and making himself eye level with you. "Not only your clothes, but your hair, your face, the way you act, your eyes — you are gorgeous."
"Stand up," you whisper-command, looking around quickly and scanning the place for any people around. Thankfully, it doesn't look like anyone is paying you any attention. "And stop doing that. That— whatever you are doing."
He tilts his head to the side, blinking innocently at you. "Doing what?"
"Just stop," you groan, averting your eyes and looking at Nabi instead. "Mingyu is insufferable, baby," you whisper to her and she giggles despite not understanding the words.
Your name leaves his lips again in an attempt to get you to look at him. You don't. But he continues anyway. "Not that there is anything like fitting into a place, but you'll be alright. I promise. Just let me take you to a place I like, have a nice dinner with me, tell me all about your life and act normal. It's going to be just the three of us at the table, and I can assure you, you definitely fit there."
"If I was acting normal I wouldn't be here with you at all," you mumble, slowly stepping out of the car. He immediately jumps to his feet again and reaches his hand out. You hold it while keeping Nabi steady with one arm as she wraps her hands around your neck and rests her head on your shoulder. "Don't make me regret this."
"I won't," he assures you with a smile, thinking again about all the questions he is going to ask you tonight as he squeezes your hand in his, loving how they fit together. He steals glances at you as you walk across the street together, heading towards the restaurant that scares you so much. He meant everything he just said — you are gorgeous. And honestly, he can't believe you worry about fitting in when it's him who is scared of not meeting your standards and disappointing you.
"I can't believe you actually took me here," you mumble as soon as the waiter walks away and Mingyu looks at you again. He ordered Beef Wellington for the both of you — a dish you can only imagine the cost of — after you told him he doesn't need to buy Nabi anything because you'll share your portion with her. He tried convincing you he could get her something small or ask the owner for kid's size of your meal but you insisted.
"Do you really hate it so much?" He asks, worries written all over his eyes. You look up, your eyes panicked as you shake your head. Even though you still think he is insane for all of this — for treating you this well without any reason — you don't want him to think that deep down you don't actually like what he is doing.
"That's not it," you assure him, a sigh leaving your lips when he keeps looking at you like he doesn't believe it. "I'm just not used to it, that's all."
"Well, you should be."
A soft smile tugs in the corner of your lips as you shrug casually, "then help me get used to it."
It's all Mingyu needed to hear, a small reassurance that he should keep trying, that he should try harder, and do everything in his power to get what he wants — in this case, you. Nodding, he grins at you as if he was a teen boy seeing a woman for the first time.
"Oh my god," you sing as you take a bite of your food, the meat melting in your mouth. "This is so much better than what we eat at home. Come here, Nabi, take a bite." Mingyu watches you as you feed your daughter while stealing bites yourself, the smile on your face letting him know you truly do find pleasure in the taste.
"Do you always eat canned food at home?" He asks, remembering your mention earlier.
"I'm not sure what Jihoon feeds her when he has her overnight but I usually do unless my boss treats me to something," you answer without looking up.
"Is Jihoon the guy we saw earlier?" This time you do look at him as you nod, tilting your head to the side in confusion. "Is he the father?"
"What?" A soft laugh erupts from you as you watch his completely serious face, the jealousy written all over his eyes. It's quite cute if you must say. "Oh no. Even though I'm pretty sure everything would be much easier if he was my baby dada." Mingyu doesn't laugh which only makes your teasing smile grow. Nabi's eyes flicker between the two of you as she waits for another bite, one you gladly give her. "Relax, big boy. You're gonna get wrinkles."
"Jihoon is my neighbor, he lives in the apartment besides mine. And because he is so kind, he looks after Nabi when I'm working." Mingyu looks at your daughter who has a smile on her face at the mention of her favorite, causing some sort of urge to compete to grow in him. "I don't know how I'd manage without him, honestly. Before he offered to help me, my boss would find people I barely knew that were willing to look after her — mostly people from work."
"I can help," Mingyu states confidently and you blink confusedly. "Let me help as well."
"Have you ever taken care of a child? I doubt."
"I'll learn."
"It's not that easy, Mingyu."
"I'll learn," he repeats, the confidence shining through him. "This little butterfly can't be that hard to deal with," he makes a face at your daughter, making her laugh. "I'm home all day since I'm on break. I can do it."
You hesitate, taking in the sight of him. Not only does he looks confident, but he is also determined. You know he'll keep trying to convince you until you say yes if it means being able to help you out.
"I don't even know you that well, I'm not leaving my daughter with a complete stranger," you shake your head.
Mingyu doesn't hesitate for even the shortest moment before answering. "I'm Kim Mingyu, born and raised here in New York. I have a younger sister who lives with her husband so we don't see each other much anymore due to my schedule. I work as an aviator, and I think I'm doing a pretty good job. I was born on the sixth of April, 1897. I love meat, any kind, really. I love music, I think it's a great thing."
Staring at him blankly, you let silence settle over you before a laugh bubbles out of you. "I see," you shake your head slightly.
"And I also like you and your daughter," he adds, waiting for you to look at him again. As soon as you do, he notices the faint blush on your cheeks and smiles. "Let me do this for you."
"You've done plenty for me already," you argue, trying to ignore the fact your heart screams to say yes and have a reason to continue seeing him. It's your head that stops you though, the reminder of what happened the last time you reached out your hand towards a fire and burned yourself.
"Please," your name leaves his lips, a gentle sound that echoes in your ears. It's always like this. Every time he says your name, you feel sick. But much to your despite, it's not the throw-up kind of sickness, it's more like I don't want to feel like this. "I'll be good."
"We'll see," you mumble as you avert your eyes from him, too scared he'll read your entire expression.
But at that moment, Mingyu doesn't even think to observe you anyhow, simply happy to have made a progress somehow. He doesn't stop smiling for the rest of the night, joking with your daughter without a single care in the world if others are looking at him weirdly. His focus stays on the two of you, making sure tonight stays the best night you could have asked for.
He carries Nabi in his arms back to the car while holding your hand, keeping both of his girls close. He wouldn't say it out loud, too scared what your reaction could be, but deep down, he's already decided you were both his girls. Even if you might not feel that way.
"Will you sit at the front with me?" He asks, batting his puppy eyes at you. You look him up and down, properly taking in the sight of him — from his hair, down to his arms in the suit, to his shoes. There are two ways you think tonight can go. One, you tell him yes and he'll drive you to his place. Two, you say no and this will be the last time you're seeing him.
Neither of them sound ideal, but there is one you'd rather go through. "Sure," you nod, taking Nabi from him as he opens the door for you and waits until you're comfortable with your daughter on your lap before closing it again and walking around the car to get to his own seat.
To your surprise though, he takes the same road he did before, not turning away even ones. You continue talking and so you don't watch the streets as closely, but no matter how much you try, it just keeps looking like the way to your home.
And when he parks his car again, in the same place he did when he came to pick you up, you realize there might have not only been two ways your night could go.
"Thank you," you mumble sheepishly as you step out.
"That should be my line," he smiles, walking with you to your apartment building. "Thank you for going out with me."
You hum back, hiding your smile from him as you let him follow you into your apartment. It's just for a split moment, a millisecond, really, but the thoughts of him wanting to spend the night crosses your mind. You assume that's why he didn't drive to his house but to yours — to make it more comfortable for you with Nabi. Or maybe it's because he doesn't want you to know where he lives, so he could just never show up again after giving you hope.
You quickly shake your head, pushing the thoughts aside. You can't help and feel like everything that happens is just an evil plan against you that will leave you heart broken. Maybe it's good you think that way, though, considering if you always think the worst, it won't hurt you as much in the end.
But he stops at the door despite you inviting him in. "It's late and Nabi is sleeping in your arms," he shakes his head. Still, he hesitates before leaving, his eyes trailing the space behind you as you wait for him to say something.
Narrowing your eyes, you are the one that breaks the silence. "Don't pity me or anything like that," you state firmly and his eyes find yours in an instant. "I don't need any of that. I don't want that."
He blinks confusedly before the panic settles in his eyes. "I wasn't going to," he assures you, almost stumbling over his words due to how fast he is talking. "I was just— seeing where you live. It's not like—"
You rolling your eyes at his panic with a smile on your face helps him calm down again, a soft smile spreading across his lips as well as he leans against the doorframe. "How about you stop talking and just finally come inside?" You prompt but he doesn't move, simply taking in the sight of you.
"I'm going home," he refuses gently, trying to see if the look in your eyes changes anyhow. He doesn't like how it looks like right now. It's different from earlier. Before, he saw a spark, a girl full of personality who he wanted to spend as much time with as she'd let him. But now, all he sees is someone hurt, someone who is forcing themselves into pushing themselves down. "When can I see you again, though?"
Your eyes widen in surprise and you take a moment to think about your answer. He doesn't rush you, patiently waiting while gazing into your eyes as he watches them turn back into the ones he loves. Into the ones full of you. "I need to work tomorrow," you finally say, looking away into the ground. "So if you want, you can take care of Nabi."
"Can I?" He straightens his back immediately. "I promise I'll keep her safe."
You nod. "I trust you," the words escape your lips before you can rethink them, catching you off guard. The only person you've trusted in a while was Jihoon, maybe because you knew he was the only one different from the people you surround yourself with. Well, now he isn't the only one anymore. It feels weird, but also like something you could get used to.
"When do you start?"
"At five. I end at two in the morning, though. Forget it. I'll ask Jihoon tomorrow so it's easier."
He immediately interrupts you, refusing. He repeats how he can do it again, promising to be here again tomorrow at four. Before you can say anything back, fight him or tell him how overly excited he is for this, he leans down and presses his lips to your forehead. You freeze in your place, your grip around Nabi tightening as you try to steady yourself. He then pats your daughter's hair, gently enough not to wake her up. "I'll see your tomorrow," he smiles, turning around and walking down the hall while you stay in place, watching his back.
You did not think this day would come again, but you might be done for. Kim Mingyu — born in 1897, raised in New York who now works as an aviator — might have just found his way into your heart.
But it's not happiness that crosses your mind first. It's worries, the sudden panic of what he thinks of you, how he sees you when he knows what you do to make money. You've never regretted agreeing to this since it put food on your table and you were able to take care of your daughter alone, but now that there might be another person in the equation, you do question if it was worth it, if it's not only going to stand in your way now.
Instead of dwelling on it for too long, though, you make your way to your bed, gently laying Nabi down and changing her clothes before doing the same, burying the thoughts aside and hoping sleep will bring better things.
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It's four in the afternoon when Mingyu knocks on your door. He takes a step back, not wanting to scare you or anything. His feet lightly taps against the wooden floor as he hums to a melody stuck in his head, deciding not to pay attention to how cold it feels here despite him being fully dressed up. That's an issue he can bring up with you later.
The door opens, but it's not the one he is standing in front of. His eyes trail to the side, landing on your neighbor. Jihoon, if he remembers correctly. "Afternoon," he mumbles with a light nod, a motion Mingyu repeats. He doesn't think much of it, averting his eyes to your door again while Jihoon slowly walks down the hallway.
But Mingyu wouldn't be him if he didn't voice his thoughts. "Uhm, excuse me," he turns to the shorter man, causing him to stop mid step and glance back at him. "Has it always been this cold here?"
"Yeah," he brushes him off as if it was completely normal. "Windows don't close completely and water leaks through the ceiling when it rains or snows." Hesitating for a moment, he eyes Mingyu up and down. "You are the dude I saw yesterday at the… speakeasy, right?"
"Kim Mingyu," he extends his hand forward, offering a handshake, despite Jihoon being out of reach.
Thankfully, he takes the few steps forward and holds his hand in his. "Lee Jihoon. Are you a client?" His eyes trail to your door and Mingyu quickly shakes his head no.
"A friend," he corrects. "Kind of."
Jihoon hums as he let's go of his hand, watching the door of your apartment open. "Nabi, I'm right there!" You call helplessly as your daughter's cry echoes off the walls. With a heavy sigh, you greet Jihoon before redirecting your attention to your seemingly favorite aviator. "I don't know if this is going to work," you shake your head. "She's been crying all morning and I don't even know what to do to stop it. She's only going to cause you trouble and you're never going to want to see us again and everything will—"
Your name on his lips stops your panicked monologue, making you meet his eyes. "No matter how she's feeling and if she causes trouble, I'm not going to stop wanting to see you," he squeezes your shoulder, a gentle gesture that is meant to help you feel calmer. To your surprise, it works.
You catch Jihoon's eyes, feeling your cheeks heating up immediately as he smiles at you, a soft knowing one that screams "I'm proud" no matter how you look at it. Hurrying Mingyu inside, not wanting to look at your neighbor any longer, worried he'll make fun of you for this whole situation, you gasp out a see you latter before slamming the door in his face.
"Jihoon seems nice," Mingyu comments as he allows himself to look around your apartment. This time, you let him, too busy running to your daughter and trying to calm her down to yell at him not to judge you.
"He is," you mumble. "You can sit down. Unless all the money you have is painted all over your head and you can't touch anything if it isn't luxurious."
He quickly snaps out of his thoughts and rushes to you. "I don't mind being here," he assures you but you catch him glancing at the leaking ceiling.
"Then stop gawking at everything so much."
"I wasn't—" he meets your raised eyebrow and gives up on lying. "Okay, I might have been. But not because I'd think any less of you. I just like seeing parts of you and this place is full of that."
You don't answer that, holding Nabi's hands in yours and trying to make silly faces on her. "Baby, come on. You're going to play with Mingyu, aren't you excited? You like Mingyu, don't you?" She doesn't even look at you, her cries getting louder. A groan leaves your lips and he crouches down beside you. His hands cup yours as he holds Nabi with you, a soft coo leaving his lips as he tries to get her attention. Your eyes shoot up to him, watching his side profile as he pays her all his attention, acting like it's no big deal for him to be here, like it's completely normal.
But while it might be casual for him, the warmth of his fingers on yours sends a shiver up your body, You're not used to this. Even when you were with Nabi's father, it never felt like this. Like every single time he looks at you, sparks erupt in your entire body. He catches Nabi's attention as much as he catches yours, and while tears continue running down her chubby cheeks, a smile decorates her lips now.
"What the hell did you do?" You blink confusedly, pulling your hands away from him and hiding them in your lap.
He shrugs, glancing at you. "I tend to have this effect on the women in this house," he grins, boyish and pure. It creates a smile on your face too. "Isn't it possible she's hungry?" He wonders and despite him trying to be subtle about it, you see his eyes falling to your breast.
"I don't breastfeed anymore," you answer and he forces his eyes up again. You haven't seen him look at you like that once since you got to know him which honestly surprised you at first. But now, as you finally see him looking, it feels great. "But she should be full still. Usually she cries due to food around six. It's too early."
"Okay," he nods. "Don't worry. even if I don't know what's going on with her, I'll take care of her as best as I can."
"Thank you," you mumble, your cheeks flushed. "Where do you live? So I can come pick her up later. I mean, unless you'd rather stay here?" Looking around, you know he won't pick the latter. You can't blame him. You might not know what his house looks like, but you have a general idea what kind of a street he lives on. It must be a big change for him being here.
"I'll come pick you up," he shakes his head. "I'm not risking you getting lost or hurting yourself on your way, so I'll be waiting for you when you finish." He watches you bite the inside of your cheek as you look up at him. There's a mixture of appreciation and nervousness behind your eyes — a look he just fell in love with.
"Okay," you nod slowly and he looks away again, lifting Nabi in his arms.
"Let's go, little butterfly. Mommy needs to work," he smiles at you while hugging her and your heart melts at the sight. It's weird because you've never felt like this with Jihoon. No matter how good he is with your daughter, seeing him with her doesn't do the same thing to you as seeing her with Mingyu, surrounded by love even though he barely knows her.
"I'll see you later then?"
"You'll see me later," he agrees, leaving you all alone between the four walls surrounding you.
Mingyu rubs gentle circles on Nabi's back as he carries her to his car, never stopping with the soft coos. She seems to relax in his arms, burying her head in the crook of his neck as she watches the buildings around her. She's probably just tired, he realizes as she weakly wraps her arms around him. "What should we do then, hm?" He asks himself while looking at her, finding himself falling for you even more as he carries a smaller version of you in his arms.
"Whose child did you steal?" Seokmin's eyes widen as he opens the door of his house, confusedly blinking at his best friend and the little girl in his arms.
"My future wife's," he grins at the thought while Seokmin's mouth opens wider, no words leaving his lips. "May I come in?" It takes him a moment to regain his composure but he steps aside, creating space for the brooding male.
"Luna is going to lose her mind," he scoffs, still in disbelieve as he follows Mingyu into the living room.
"Who was it, love?" Luna peaks in from the kitchen, the knife in her hand almost slipping from her fingers as her eyes find her husband and his best friend. "Oh," she breathes out, unable to take her eyes off the tiny human being sleeping peacefully in his arms.
"Hi," Mingyu smiles sheepishly, acting as if a stranger's child in his arms is completely normal.
"Let me set this down and get to you, I need to hear this one," she laughs softly while shaking her head, disappearing from his vision again.
Mingyu settles on the couch, making his movements minimal in order not to wake Nabi up. Seokmin takes a seat right beside him while Luna sits in the armchair on the side as soon as she joins. "Well, meet Nabi, guys."
"Nabi," Seokmin nods in acknowledgment. "I'm assuming you didn't name her? Or you just haven't told us you have a daughter, which I wouldn't be surprised at this point."
"No, I didn't name her," he chuckles. "I wanted to stop by and talk to you sooner but then I got… busy," he says the first thing that comes to mind. Which, if he thinks about it, isn't as far away from the truth. He did get busy, thinking about you.
"Busy enough to not tell us you have a child now?"
"I don't have a child," he argues. "But the woman I think I fell in love with does."
He watches as both of his friends' eyes widen, a part of him wanting to hide in this very couch. He gets it. The Kim Mingyu they know has never even spoken of love and definitely hasn't come out his way to find something for himself, but now, with your daughter in his arms, every inch of him wants to do so. His life has consisted of work and flying for as long as he can remember, but now, he wishes to push back the upcoming end of his break as much as he can.
"Alright, tell us about her," Luna encourages, a smile spreading across her lips as she notices the sparks in his eyes when he opens his mouth.
It takes thirty minutes for Mingyu to finally stop talking about you, only because Seokmin interrupts him by saying he needs to go pee. It's only then that he stops daydreaming and meets eyes with his friend again, seeing the proud smile on her face. A part of him also feels proud. It's such a simple thing, a basic human feeling, but it feels great to finally be able to share the love he's been storing inside himself for years with someone else. Especially when that someone are two pretty ladies he wants to cherish and take care of.
"She sounds great," she assures him and it feels like weight lifts off his shoulders. "When am I going to meet her?"
"Whenever she wants to meet my friends," he shrugs casually. "That's completely up to her."
"You're a good guy, Mingyu. I'm sure she'll see it as well." Mingyu's eyes trail down to Nabi in his lap, the thought of both of you in his arms as he talks to his friends and fills the space with laughter clouds his mind. He wants that. He wants to be happy outside of work and share said happiness with other people. He wants it more than he realized before.
"Although, I'm a bit worried." He looks up again, suddenly nervous. What could she worry about? "Have you given any thoughts to your lives before, Gyu? What she is used to, how she's probably used to being treated and how you grew up? What about your work? And hers? There's a lot of variables you need to have in mind when you say you are falling in love."
He doesn't answer immediately, letting himself linger in the silence. Of course he thought about all of these. With how much of his mind you occupy, it would be insane if he hasn't. Last night, as he laid in his bed after your date, the way you live was the only thing he could ponder upon. The image of your apartment — the bits he saw — were still vivid to him. And now that he's seen it fully, it only adds to his worries. Not because he'd want judge you — god, he doesn't think he ever could — but because he can't imagine what you have to go through.
He's never been a lustful man. Not because he wouldn't understand why someone would be, but because there were always far more important things to him he could pay attention to. And the moment he's learned what you do for living, when he heard you suggesting repaying him with your body, he subconsciously pushed every single thought regarding sex to the back of his mind.
While he is certain he could see himself wrapped in your warmth and being intimate with you, the worry of ending up just like the guys you meet at work, of falling to their level, was too powerful. He'd much rather give up on lust fully if it'd mean knowing you feel comfortable and safe with him.
"It's probably not easy on her if she's raising this little girl all alone."
"I know that. Which is why I wanted to make it a bit easier," he nods towards sleeping Nabi and Luna hums. "I want to be there for her, and help her out. If I could, I'd pay for her to live someplace else, anywhere she'd want. I'd design her a house if that's what her heart aches for."
"But I'm also trying to give her the breather she probably needs, so no matter how deeply I feel, I'm not rushing anywhere."
"You truly have grown while I wasn't looking," Luna's smile softens.
"You are younger than me," he reminds her instead of acknowledging her comment.
She decides to ignore his as well. "Unlike you, Seokmin jumped in straight away. I didn't mind, but it's nice that you consider her feelings as much as you do yours. It might not feel like a big deal to you, but we aren't used to it."
"Well, you should be."
"You have many privileges you don't even know about, Gyu," while her voice is soft, her words feel like anything but. He knows it probably wasn't her intention, but it hits him harsher than he thought it would. He never thought of it like this. While he has realized your life must be a lot harder than his with a child constantly needing your attention and no help outside of Jihoon's availability, he's never pondered on all the things that were delivered to him on silver plate simply because he was born the way he was.
"I wouldn't necessarily say it's bad, or that it makes you bad," she continues, "but you can't understand even half of it. Honestly, I was lucky. I don't think I'd be able to tell you everything she had to go through. It's only a guess from what you've told me, but I wouldn't count on that girl's life ever being easier than it is now."
"How do I help?" He interrupts her train of thoughts, blurting the words out before he can think over them. "How do I make this all easier?"
"For now, just continue what you already do," Luna smiles at his eagerness. "And if you are lucky, then you might end up making both of you happy."
♡⸝⸝
Mingyu leaves his friends' house before Nabi can wake up, settling her on the passenger seat after debating if he'd able to drive with her on his lap or not. Leaning over his seat, he also rests all the things Luna gave him in the back. Apparently, Seokmin's cousin visited them last week with a box full of children stuff — a silent wish from their families to finally reproduce as well, they assumed — and now that he has a child with him, she thought it would be of better use with him than them. From what he saw, there is a bunch of books and toys, so he will have no problem finding use for them.
It's harder to carry all the stuff out of his car than it was taking them in for some reason. With one of his hands tightly wrapped around Nabi, he tries his best taking everything else in the other one. He wouldn't say it's too heavy for him, but his grip certainly isn't perfect.
He has to place the box down on the floor in order to open the door, gently moving the box inside with his foot before shutting the door behind himself and exhaling as if he's just achieved the greatest accomplishment of his life. That's truly how it feels. In that moment, he admires you even more for everything you do.
He sets Nabi down in the middle of his bed, letting her sleep some more. He leaves the door to his room open while picking the box in the hallway and moving it into the living room, dropping it all on his couch so he could take a look. There are four books in total which he places on the table in front of him, briefly scanning the titles with his eyes. The next thing that catches his eyes is the worn out teddy bear. It stinks, but Mingyu is almost sure he can wash that scent off. Leaving it besides the books, he roams through the rest of the stuff, checking to see which toys he wants to give your daughter and which look far too dangerous for children to play with.
Once he is done with that, he tries his best washing the stuffed toy in his bathroom. It's the least he can do, he reminds himself. Helping you out like this, getting your daughter toys to play with and making sure she isn't going to catch anything from them — he can do all that. With all you do for her, this is nothing.
He wraps the teddy in a fresh towel when he is all done in order for it dry, right on time as he hears a cry echo off his walls. Panic rushes through his whole body for a split second before he forces himself to regain his composure and rushes to his room, seeing Nabi waking up. A heavy sigh of relief leaves his lips when he assures himself it's not because she'd fall off or hurt herself but simply because her nap ended.
"Shh, it's okay, little butterfly," he coos, sitting down beside her. But his voice or gentle brush of his fingers doesn't help as she cries for her mama. Okay, he's got this. "Mommy is working, bug, it's just the two of us." It doesn't seem to budge with her even a little bit. Less words then, alright. He makes a mental note to himself as he scoops her up in his arms, letting her rest her head on his shoulder. Rubbing small circles on her back with his thumb, he carries her out into the living room.
It seems to work a little as her little fingers reach up to grab onto his hair, playing with it while her cries slowly quiet down. He barely feels it due to the strength she has but it makes him smile nonetheless. "We'll be okay even without mommy for a while, right baby?" He turns his head slightly to look at her and she raises her head as well, her glossy eyes meeting his as she nods, her lips pressed in a thin line. She's trying to hold back her tears, he realizes. "Oh, Nabi, you are just the strongest little girl, aren't you?"
Thankfully, luck seems to be on his side today. Nabi plays with the toys laid out on the couch as soon as he sets her down, slowly forgetting all about waking up in a space she doesn't recognize. Mingyu watches her with a smile, holding a doll in his own hand and letting her lead the story while her giggles echo in his house.
The same place that felt empty and suffocating just a week ago now brings a smile to his lips, all thanks to stumbling upon you that night. He's realizing this was exactly what he needed, what he wishes would fill these walls — giggles, smiles, love. And while it's just him and your daughter at the moment, he can see you clearly in his mind. Sitting on the couch behind Nabi, playing with her with a smile on your face and laugh that makes him fall even deeper in love. He can imagine you comfortably laying in his bed, his arms wrapped around your waist as he hides his face in the crook of your neck, listening to your soft breathing.
He can see both of you filling this house, turning what was once quiet and boring into something exciting, something he could look forward to coming home to.
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Nabi is fast asleep in his car as Mingyu waits for you to come out, leaning his back against the same wall he did when he invited you to dinner. It's rather quiet at this hour, even though he can hear soft music coming from the speakeasy. But other than that, the streets of New York are calm this late into the night.
The front door opens and his eyes immediately trail down the figure walking out. It's not you. He ignores the disappointment bubbling in his chest as he sees a different woman locking eyes with him. There's truly nothing he wants more than to be around you again.
"Still not coming in?" Jisoo's voice rings in his ears and he pushes himself off the wall, coming closer to her.
"I'm happy right here," he smiles at her, watching her hum.
She looks around for any other passerby, leaning on the doorframe when she doesn't find anyone. "You truly are a special one," she mumbles as she takes he sight of him in. Mingyu doesn't answer, simply taking a small step back. He's not sure what it is, but this conversation feels a lot different from their first one. While back then she made her intentions clear, letting him know she found him attractive, this time makes him much more uncomfortable. "So, what are you doing here?"
"Waiting."
"For Neve?"
"For Neve," he nods. "She should be ending any minute."
"Yeah, I think she is supposed to end soon," Jisoo agrees. "Although, who knows when she'll be done. The last time I saw her she was with an eager one."
Mingyu grits his teeth together at the thought. Not for the same reasons Jisoo wishes he would, though. While the image of you with another isn't pleasing, he doesn't feel any disgust or repulse towards you. If anything, he finds the men inside the speakeasy pathetic. He understands why you do it, that at the end of the day, you'd probably love to be able to do anything else — and if not then his support wouldn't change — and he doesn't see anything wrong with that. The men inside? He can't say the same about them.
"Okay," he shrugs, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a bigger reaction.
Jisoo blinks at him confusedly before collecting herself again. "Well, have fun then." While her words are likely supposed to get to him, he simply smiles at her. Saying his goodbyes and watching her walk away. He sighs as he closes his eyes for a second, listening to the jazz music coming from inside as he keeps on waiting.
"Gyu," your voice causes him to open his eyes again. He isn't sure how long it has been, but he hopes he didn't fall asleep. There's a smile on your face as you look at him and he can't help but mimic the motion. "Thank you for coming for me."
"The least I could do," he shakes his head, getting off his suit jacket and dropping it over your shoulders. You don't question him, holding it closed with your hands to guard yourself from the chill of the outside air.
You walk side by side out of the alley without exchanging another word. It's when you reach a lamp on the main street, casting a soft light over you, that you reach your hand out towards him. Mingyu's eyes flicker between yours and your hand before the boyish grin you love appears on his face and he takes your fingers in his. His hand is warm to your surprise.
You recognize his car as soon as it comes in your field of view, noticing the messy hair of your daughter immediately. She's sleeping soundlessly inside, much more comfortable than you thought she would be. Not that you'd mind. Knowing he had no trouble taking care of her today only makes your heart skip a beat. "Do you mind carrying her? I feel exhausted."
"Why? I'll drive."
You blink up at him. "I live fifteen minutes from here. You don't have to drive us."
A soft "Oh," leaves his lips, making you tilt your head confusedly. "This is stupid of me. I thought— I didn't even realize I could drop you off at home. I left her things at mine, I thought we'd go there."
"Her things?"
"My friends had a few toys and I got her some clothes—"
"Mingyu," you interrupt him. "You bought her clothes?"
He nods hesitantly, a bit worried what you're going to say now that you're standing beside him. But instead of arguing with him like he half expects you to, you stand on your tiptoes to reach him, steadying yourself by holding onto his shoulder, and pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you."
Mingyu's cheeks are flushed when you pull back, somehow making him even more attractive than he already was. "We can get back to your place," you nod, walking around him and getting into the back of his car, a chuckle leaving your lips when he stays glued in place. "Come on, big boy, the car isn't going to drive itself."
It is safe to say you mess with Mingyu's head. As he sits behind the wheel and starts the car, all he can think about is how pretty you look in the back of his car and how soft your lips felt on his cheek. He's getting red all over again, but he doesn't care. He can just blame it on the cold if you question him. Clearing his throat and doing his best to look ahead at the road, he drives the now familiar road back to his house.
Surprised doesn't feel like a strong enough emotion as you look at the house he parked in front of. Just looking at it from outside, you guess you could fit five families inside. When you lived with your parents, your house wasn't small, it was much bigger than the apartment you have now, but even then when you thought you were living in luxury, it couldn't compare to the house he owns.
"This is yours?"
"All mine," he nods, his hand finding your lower back as he leads you inside, holding Nabi with the other one. The four am on his clock greets him as soon as he walks past it, deciding to ignore the late hour when there are far more important things right now — like you being in his house.
"She seems to like the teddy a lot, as well as the two dolls," he comments when he sees you eyeing the toys sprawled all over the couch. He didn't bother cleaning it yet, so there is a mess everywhere. But he sure if anyone would understand the mess your daughter can make it'd be you.
"This is awesome, Mingyu," you exhale, meeting his eyes in the dark.
He smiles at you, glad you like it. "Let me lay her down and I'll be right back."
You take your time exploring his living room and kitchen, letting your finger glaze every inch of his furniture you can. Even with the lights off, you can tell it's beautiful. If you could show someone your dream house, it'd probably look a lot like this place. The entire place is so spacious you don't have to worry about bumping into things as you walk, you don't have to worry where you're going to store clothes or eat your food. It's everything you don't have and wish you did.
"Do you want anything to eat? Or drink?" You hear Mingyu behind you but you don't turn, just gawking at the cabinet full of pictures of him. Despite the black and white, you can make out the beauty of his face and excitement he feels as he sits in a plane, the same with the picture beside it where he is surrounded what you can only assume to be his crew. He joins your side, looking at the same pictures. "This one is from last year. I was the lead in a rescue operation. And the guy you see right here, Soonyoung, he was my partner back then."
"You are amazing," you breathe out.
"Well, I think the same about you."
You look up at him just to find him already looking at you, everything about his eyes telling you he means everything he says. "All I do is barely get by."
"You could think that," he hums. "But to me, everything you do for Nabi to make sure she has a place to call home and something to eat, I think of as incredible." Tugging your hair behind your ear, he let's his thumb brush against your cheek. Keeping your eyes locked onto his, you listen to your own heartbeat in the silence, instinctively leaning into his touch. Deep down, you missed this. The warmth of another person outside of work, the reassuring words and smiles meant just for you. "Stay here tonight."
His voice is barely above a whisper but as the sound echos in your ears, it feels much more like a yell. As much as you'd like to call yourself a guarded person, someone who keeps her distance from others and takes her time trusting someone, Mingyu keeps proving you wrong every time you talk to him. He has a charm, you think. A spark in his eyes that breaks down all the defense you try building up and instead of pushing him back allows him get closer.
"With you?" You keep your voice low, matching his.
"With me." His thumb brushes over your lower lip, his eyes falling to them as well. And honestly, as he looks at you like that, there is nothing you want more than to stay here tonight. "My bed is large enough for us all to sleep comfortably, and it's be easier than driving you back so late," he reasons.
"Is that why you wanted us to come here? You wanted to ask me to stay with you?"
He doesn't argue. "Please."
Your breath trembles and you find yourself nodding. He takes a step forward, leaving mere inches between you. Your eyes flicker between his lips and orbs, unsure what to focus on more — the love in his eyes or the urge in his lips.
But just as you are pushing yourself up on your tiptoes again, he steps back and his hand falls to his side. Your mouth hangs open in surprise, blinking fast as you take in the scene in front of you. "You're tired," is all he says before holding your hand in his and pulling you towards what you assume to be his bedroom. You are right.
"Mingyu," you try to stop him but he doesn't look at you, going to his wardrobe and pulling out a fresh shirt, telling you you can wear it to sleep and that he will stay on the couch. "Mingyu!" You try again, this time louder. Your eyes quickly flicker to sleeping Nabi, making sure you didn't wake her up. "Talk to me."
"It's late, and you just finished working," he shakes his head, making you frown. "You should rest."
It's you who holds his hand this time, stopping him from leaving the room. "Is it because of that? Did you remember how I spent my working hours and decided I wasn't attractive to you anymore? Is that why you didn't kiss me just now?"
You can see his eyes widen even in the dark. "God no," he shakes his head quickly, not giving you the chance to continue. "You could never not be attractive in my eyes. If anything, I didn't kiss you because I didn't want you to view me as all the other guys you spend time with."
"So you just—"
"I wanted to give you space."
A heavy sigh leaves your lips and the grip on his hand tightens. Mingyu gives your hand a tight, reassuring squeeze before lacing his fingers with yours. "I didn't want to screw anything up." Gently cupping your cheek, he finds himself gazing into your eyes again.
"Then please, kiss me, Mingyu."
He doesn't need to be asked twice, leaning down and closing the space between you fully. He let's go of your hand only to hold your waist and pull your closer, his other hand holding your chin and tilting your head for a better access. His lips are soft against yours, plum and sweet. Every move he makes, every step, is extremely gentle, almost as if you were something fragile.
You're not sure when you moved back but at some point, your back hits the wall, and you have nowhere to go. Your hands wrap behind his neck and you pull him even closer than he already is, a soft moan leaving your lips.
"I wanted to take my time with you," he mumbles between kisses, his lips never staying away from you for too long. "Wanted to cherish you," his breath shakes. "And love you properly."
Your head spins at the words combined with his actions, every inch of your body itching to be as close to him as possible, wrapped in his warmth. But because Kim Mingyu is the good guy he is, he forces himself back, his hand resting on the wall beside your head as he closes his eyes and let's both of you breathe. You cup his cheeks in your palms, forcing him to look at you again. "You're not doing anything wrong."
You can see the weight lift off his shoulders at your words, smiling at him. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," you chuckle. "Now, you said I can wear that, right?"
Despite you assuring him it's okay, Mingyu insists on stepping out of the room while you change clothes, his eyes only widening more once he sees you again, his shirt swallowing your whole. A part of you hoped for less gentleness and more touching, but for now, you'll have to do with the way he crosses the room and kisses you all over again. His hands stay on your cheeks, as respectful as he can be.
You scoop Nabi to the side, taking a bunch of Mingyu's pillows and creating a barrier between her and the edge of the bed. It is true his bed is much bigger than yours and will have no problem fitting all of you in, but you'd rather be safe than sorry. Slipping under the blanket beside her, you watch the giant man who seems to be hesitating about getting into his own bed. "Come on. I thought you said it was late."
You watch as he rethinks the whole situation, fighting himself in his head before finally joining your side. You turn your back to your daughter to face him, allowing yourself to gaze into his eyes while he does the same. "Can I ask you something?" You break the silence and he nods. "What do you truly think of…me, and what I do?"
"Darling, I meant it when I said I think you are incredible. I admire what you do."
"No I mean," biting the inside of your cheek, you struggle to ask properly and figure out how he feels. It's scary. This whole conversation is scary. But it is one you want to have with him. "My work. How do you… How do you feel about that? Do you not mind?"
"Mind what? You providing for your family? Absolutely not." You tilt your head, serious. A sigh leaves his lips and he scoots a bit closer to you. "I'm okay with you doing what you want to do, if that's what you want to do. I don't— I thought about this a lot, actually. And while I know I don't have a say, the only thing I care about is the fact you surround yourself with people who don't appreciate your worth."
"But you don't think any less of me?"
"I couldn't think any less of you even if I wanted to," he assures you. "And it's not like I don't feel any jealousy, but I also know you are doing your best, and I'll just be the luckiest man alive if you manage to allow me to be close to you."
You avert your eyes from his, focusing on the sheets under you instead. He is too sweet, definitely more than you deserve. "I've been telling you I'll sleep with you ever since we met," you remind him and he frowns.
"I don't care about that. I don't want us to be like that." You keep your head low, listening to him. "The moment I see you naked, it will be because we are so deeply in love with each other we simply cannot stay away from each other any longer."
It's crazy. You know each other for a week. And yet, a smile spreads across your lips as you close your eyes. "I like that," you whisper. "I like that a lot."
You turn your back to him in order to keep an eye on your daughter while his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against him. His head rests on your shoulder, the room falling quiet. It's comfortable, and you find yourself melting into his touch. "But just so you know," his voice is so quiet you're not sure if he wants you to hear and pay attention or not. "If you'd tell me you don't like doing what you do, that you wish to stop, I'd take both of you in in a heartbeat and make sure you don't have to do anything you don't wish to."
Your breath catches at his words and without him knowing, you slowly fall for him. Step by step, the wishful dream you had once build in your head where you and Nabi laugh together, living the happy life you always wanted for her, slowly changes into a picture of the three of you.
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You're not sure how it all happened, how you ended up over at Mingyu's house every day the following week, or how you got into this conversation. But as your daughter's giggles ring in your ears because Mingyu manages to hold a serious conversation with you while playing with her, you don't ever want to go back to how things were before.
"I promise you arranging my schedule is no problem. I've been taking on any and every shift I could until now because I didn't like being at home. But if you stay here and I get to see your beautiful face every time I come back home, I can manage with a lot less shifts."
"You seriously want us to move in with you?" you question.
"Well, I want you to marry me but I didn't want to get too ahead of myself."
You pin him down with your eyes and he raises his hands in surrender, a soft laugh leaving his lips. "I can't just turn your entire life upside down, come on. Two weeks ago you were flying around the country saving people."
"And now I want to stay home and be with you," he shrugs casually. "I can afford this, baby. I can work less and be there for the both of you. You can't want me to get back in the air without breaks when I finally have something holding me down and making me look forward to coming home."
"But I also can't want for you to do all this for us. I'll feel bad."
He shakes his head at you and leans over the table, pressing his lips to yours. Every time he kisses you, it feels like the first time all over again. You never know what to expect, if he's going to kiss you with hunger or going to be gentle, and that makes the thrill of it all so much better. This time, his kiss is filled with reassurance, grounding you.
"You deserve to get away from that place. You deserve to live your life without the constant reminder of how much power your boss holds over you and that you ended up where you did because the men in your life were terrible."
When you told Mingyu about Nabi's father, about who you thought was the love of your life and how fast he ran away when you found out you were pregnant, he was mad. But the moment you told him about your parents, about your father kicking you out onto the streets because he wasn't going to have a failure under his roof, his anger exceeded all your expectations. Ever since then, the hatred he feels towards men and practically anyone in your life except for Jihoon only grows each day.
If you're honest, it's incredibly attractive.
"I'll think about it, okay? My boss is already mad I asked to be behind the bar and singing instead. I'm not sure I want to see her reaction if I tell her I'm quitting fully."
"And she's listened to you, right? She doesn't force you to work," his eyes flicker to Nabi who is watching both of you curiously, "down there, does she?"
"I'm okay, Mingyu," you assure him but he doesn't calm down completely. "I promise I'll think about it, so you just think about what you're planning to do for us as well, okay?"
"Alright," he agrees even though deep down, both of you know he's already decided. If he wants to stay at home and be with you as much as possible, he will make it work no matter what. "We still got two days before I start again anyway. Should we do something together?" He bats his eyelashes at you with his head tilted and it gets to you more than you wish it would.
"We could," you avert your eyes. "But didn't you say you have plans with the guys tonight?"
"Then tomorrow." He doesn't back down. "Let's go out together. We could go see a play and have dinner," he suggests. You can feel his eyes on you even though you're not looking at him, knowing he's not going to give up until you agree. "What do you think?"
"I don't know if a play is a good idea. Nabi could disturb people around and I don't have anything fancy like that to wear."
"We don't have to go see one, but if you want to, I'll make it work," he assures you. "I could convince Jihoon or ask Seokmin and Luna to look after her and we could buy you a new dress — even though I think your clothes are perfectly fine."
"Mingyu," you raise your brows as if to tell him he's stupid. He immediately leans back in his chair, shaking his head as if to tell you he did nothing. You sigh, pointing down at your clothes, a long worn out skirt and Mingyu's button-up. "Have you ever seen what women wear while going out? It's certainly not this."
"I'm sure Luna has something you could borrow as well," he thinks out loud, barely paying attention to your complains as he thinks about going shopping with you and having you try on all different kinds of dresses. "Shopping. We should definitely go shopping if we want to get you something new."
"Are you even listening?" You see right through him. With the way he is zoning out while looking at you, it's not hard to guess what he is doing. "How about you stop getting weird ideas in your head and start heading out. I'm sure the guys are already waiting for you."
He gasps, bringing his hand to his heart to add to the shock. "Kicking me out of my own house? How terrible of you, darling."
You roll your eyes. "You are the one who wanted me in your house. Isn't that right, Nabi? Did Mingyu want us in his house?" You lean to your girl and she giggles, nodding her head.
Mingyu watches you both, the same soft smile he seems to have every time he is with you spreading across his lips. It's impossible not to have one when you are like this. No matter what you do, if you tease him, argue with him and tell him how stupid he is for being so in love with you, he just finds you adorable. Even more so, when you are cooperating with your daughter.
"I'll be back later," he says as he stands up from his place at the table.
"I know you will."
♡⸝⸝
It's been long since he last visited Minghao's house. Not long enough for him to forget the way, but long enough to be surprised at the beautiful garden standing beside his house. It's also long enough for him to almost not recognize Hao's wife tending to the flowers.
The game is already in full swing when she leads Mingyu into the living room. He thanks her once more before she leaves and he takes the last empty seat at the table beside his friends. Seokmin leans into his side immediately, showing off his cards with an evil smile. Looking at what he has, Mingyu can only assume it's a part of his strategy.
Seungcheol scoffs, obviously not buying any of it. Unlike him, though, Chan, who sits between him and Minghao, seems rather nervous thinking about what cards his elders have in hands. There's only been a few times Mingyu has interacted with Chan. Not because he wouldn't enjoy his presence, but simply because their schedules didn't align enough to give them the opportunity to get to know each other more. His three close friends didn't have the same problems, and so it was easy for them to get close. Close enough that he was a part of their game nights.
"I don't know what you're laughing about, because no matter how I look at it, I win," Minghao shows off his cards as the turn comes to an end, causing Seokmin to groan loudly. Mingyu laughs with the others as Hao takes all of Seokmin's money, enjoying teasing his friend.
"Next round is mine," he proclaims confidently, which only causes another wave full of laughter.
"Leave me out," Mingyu shakes his head politely. "I only stopped by on the way, I need to go again."
"You just got here! Can't you stay even for one game?"
"I need to make my girl's life a bit easier again," he smiles at Seokmin, knowing he'll understand what he means. "But I'll make sure to come back as soon as I'm done. I'm sure there is only as much money you can lose while I'm gone."
"I would run fast if you want to catch him while he is still bidding. It doesn't take long to rid him of everything he has," Cheol laughs and Seokmin immediately hisses offensively.
"I'll be an hour max. I wouldn't miss this."
While the road to Minghao's house wasn't as familiar, the one he takes now is a different story. He's drove to the same apartment building so many times in the past two weeks, he could probably do it blind. He tugs his hands inside his pants pockets as he walks to the speakeasy that started it all.
To his surprise, it feels the same as when he first came looking for you here. He walks past a group sleeping on the cold ground and past people trying to warm themselves up with a fire until he finally reaches his destination, coming face to face with the same girl that helped him get to where he is right now, even though she probably doesn't realize it.
"Every time I see you here I question if you truly mean it when you say you aren't interested," Jisoo says with her hands on her hips. "Neve isn't here today."
"I know," he nods. "She's at my house," he adds proudly.
"Oh?" She tilts her head, a smile spreading on her lips. "But you are here." Mingyu nods, opening his mouth to explain himself. But before he can do so, she's speaking again. "Does that mean you might finally join us inside?" She bats her eyelashes at him and while he doesn't find it at all pleasing, he agrees. "Wait, actually?"
A soft laugh escapes his lips as he hums, "Mhm, I've got some things I want to do."
She doesn't ask further, stepping aside and opening the door for him with a proud smile — almost as if she finally accomplished her biggest goal. Who knows, maybe he has been her biggest goal all along. Unfortunately for her, Mingyu doesn't have much care left now that you've stepped into his life.
On the surface, the speakeasy looks like any other ones he's been to. Jazz music echoes off the walls, accompanied by a woman's voice. The tables are still rather empty at this hour, but there is a guy behind the bar nonetheless. "Hey," Mingyu greets him casually, leaning against a bar chair.
"What can I get you tonight?" The barista eyes him up and down. "Blond island?" He suggests and Mingyu frowns at the chose of name for what he can tell immediately is not a drink.
"I'd like a chat with the boss."
Mingyu watches the barista's eyes widen as he looks around the place, almost as if looking for some sort of help. He seems stressed, but that's a reaction he expected. It's probably not often that men dressed in full suits they've never seen before come in and ask to see the person in charge of an illegal bar. Had it been him behind the bar, he'd also assume the worst.
"Angel," he calls over to one of the girls walking past, heading to the back. She blinks up at him confusedly before hurrying to his side. They exchange a few words together, quietly enough so that Mingyu couldn't hear. "You can follow her."
"Hi," she smiles at him and he returns her greeting. Straightening his back again, he follows her to the back of the bar, looking around as she leads him through the hall. He's never been more thankful for music and how it can cover other sounds around.
"Do people pay more for that?" He wonders, a question more to himself than anyone else. But the girl in front of him glances over her shoulder to look at him, clueless about what he's talking about. "Being loud, I mean. It sounds awfully forced." A soft giggle leaves her lips at his comment but other than that, she doesn't answer.
The boss' office is at the very end of the hall. The girl in front of him makes sure to knock three times on the door before stepping inside, encouraging him to follow. The office isn't anything fancy on its own, plain white walls with only a few closets decorating the space and a table in the center. But then again, there isn't really a reason for the room to be anyhow special, is there?
"Who do we have here?" The woman behind the table asks as she eyes him up and down, her eyes lingering on his muscles longer than he'd like. While the room isn't screaming wealth in the slightest, the woman in charge certainly is. Two pearl necklaces line her neck and she's wearing a pretty red slip dress — one he is convinced would look gorgeous on you. And while he isn't an expert, her earrings and rings look expensive. Unlike the ladies she has under herself, it seems like she has money.
"Mingyu," he bows his head slightly as the introduction slips past his lips.
She hums happily. "Angel, you can get back to work. I don't think we'll have any problems here." The girl quickly nods, excusing herself and rushing out of the room before Mingyu can even turn his head towards her. "Madam Yang," she introduces herself back.
"I came here on behalf of one of the girls in your care," he explains, motioning towards the empty chair a few feet away from him. "May I?"
"Well, of course," she allows him to sit, a polite smile on her lips. "Excuse me for not knowing, but are you one of our clients? Would there be a complain?"
"Not necessarily," he shakes his head slightly. "But I have a girl working under you because of her financial issues — Neve — I'm certain it rings a bell. Well, pardon my bluntness but while she tells me she requested to be behind the bar and on stage only, I have a feeling you don't allow her as much freedom."
"Neve," she sings a low chuckle leaving her lips as she leans back in her chair. "Well, Mr. Mingyu, I never thought I'd be meeting you like this."
"I never thought I'd be meeting you, ma'am."
"It seems we share a few concerns regarding Neve's work life," she hums and Mingyu frowns. Despite appreciating her professionalism, the way she speaks to him is less and less to his liking. "We each have a different idea of what is best for her."
"Enlighten me, please. What do you think would be the best for a girl in her situation?"
"Making more money, obviously. Which she can't do if she's pouring drinks behind the bar. She herself should understand that what she needs to do to feed that child of hers is what I've been offering her since I met her."
"Nabi," he interrupts her. She tilts her head in confusion. "That child as you say with so much disgust. She has a name. A beautiful one if I may add."
Madam Yang shakes her head at him which only makes his blood boil more. "Poor child," she starts despite Mingyu being certain she is his age. Thirty, maybe. "You could never truly understand her or her needs. If those are the things you worry about, you never stood a chance. But that is okay, after all, you are just a man."
In reality it only takes a second, but internally, as Mingyu closes his eyes to calm down, he thinks of twenty different way he could destroy this woman's career and make her regret this conversation. The only thing stopping him are the other girls working under her, who might be in a similar situation like you, who need this job despite everything.
"You're right," he sighs, slowly standing up. "I am just a man, a foolish one some may even say. But I stand by my decisions. Especially the ones regarding this very girl you only use to make money for yourself while giving her barely enough to get by in life." A scoff leaves her lips, but Mingyu doesn't let her say anything. "Which makes it so much easier and enjoyable to be the one to tell you not to expect her to come here from now on."
"What?" Her voice sounds panicked now as she leans forward again, quickly composing herself again when she realizes what she's doing. "What do you— You can't be serious."
Putting on a fake smile, he makes sure to take in the distress on her face. "But I am. You know, Madam Yang, I am a foolish man at heart, and I tend to fall deep. So even if one day she decides she doesn't want to be around me anymore, that she doesn't like me anymore, I will continue supporting her so that she doesn't need to come back here no matter what. And I'm sorry I don't fit your ideal of a man, of those you meet here, thirsting for your woman just to kick them aside once they get what they want. Maybe your life would be easier if I was."
Fixing his suit jacket, he smiles at her once more before turning around on his heel and heading out the same way he came in, making sure to tip the bar and tell him to share with the girls working so hard today.
Mingyu doesn't tell his friends what he was doing when he comes back, acting like nothing happened and laughing at Chan's and Seokmin's failed attempts at tricking Seungcheol. He might find himself in an argument with you tomorrow when he tells you what he did without talking to your properly first but for now, all he wants to focus on are the guys, and the possibility of getting to see you happy because he lifted the burden off your shoulders instead of you yelling at him.
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Mingyu genuinely couldn't think of a better way to spend the last day of his break than by your side. And as much as he wishes to have both of his favorite girls with him, he is extremely grateful to Seokmin for agreeing to look after Nabi for the night so he could spend some alone time with you. And even though you said you aren't feeling the play he suggested, he was going to make the most of the dinner.
As your giggles echo in his ears, he is more than sure the night is as perfect as it could be. He doesn't remember what he said anymore, what caused this beautiful sound he loves, but it doesn't matter. As long as he can keep listening to your laugh, nothing else matters to him.
"All of your friends sound amazing," you nod while bringing another piece of meat into your mouth. "I knew I would like Luna from the start, but I'm just liking her more and more the more you talk."
"She's really excited to meet you. If that's what you'd like as well?" He asks and you nod immediately.
"I'd love to. After all, I need to know who is taking care of my daughter as we speak, don't I?"
"Certainly," he chuckles. Your smile grows bigger with his and it only makes Mingyu fall for you more. He seems to fall in love with you more and more every day, no matter if you're telling him about something, laughing with him, or just sitting in silence. It all leads to him being more grateful for getting to meet you. "I'm going to miss that pretty smile every time I'm in the air," he mumbles.
"Are you now?" You tilt your head teasingly, but your eyes soften at his words, feeling the same way he does — like every time you are with him, you fall a bit deeper.
He mimics your motion, tilting his head and resting his cheek in his palm as he watches you. "Absolutely," he agrees. "From the second I leave the house, all I'll be able to think about are my two favorite girls."
And there he goes again, making your heart beat faster. It's not only the way he feels about you, but the way he always includes your daughter in as well. Deep down, a part of you always thought that your chances at love or an ordinary life went down to zero when you had your baby, but he proves you wrong every time he opens his mouth. He couldn't get any better.
"Well, then you better work your schedule around so you can be with us as much as possible," you shrug casually, leaning back in your chair.
His eyes widen immediately and he straightens his back as well. "So you agree? You are okay with me wanting to be home most of the time?"
"Yeah," you nod, still smiling. "But I don't want to be a burden on you. You can't just be paying for everything on my behalf. So, I'll ask my boss for more money, maybe it'll be possible if I'm not longer living in her apartment. It doesn't matter, I'll just figure something out so I don't have to keep living off your savings."
"About that," he mumbles under his breath, his gaze dropping down into his plate. It makes you frown as you tilt your head confusedly, questioning what he means. "Before I tell you and you get mad at me, I stand by what I said and I will support you even if you decide you don't want to be with me. Even if you are so angry with me you decide to pack your things tonight — I will still pay for your hotel room and anything else need. Heck, I'd leave you the entire house and go to a hotel myself."
"Mingyu, what are you rambling about?" You interrupt him, your confusion on growing. You have no idea what he is talking about, but if he is so worried about you leaving, it probably isn't anything great. Just your luck, really. Every time you think you are going to be happy, something like this just has to happen.
"Yesterday, when I was at Minghao's, I might have left for like an hour or so. An hour I spent at the speakeasy you work at — used to work at," he corrects himself quickly. Now, your confusion is turning into panic. What does he mean he was there? The thought of him talking to your boss and having you quit doesn't cross your mind for even a second. Instead, you think of him with one of your coworkers, finding pleasure in their company instead of being with you. Oh fuck, you feel like crying.
Mingyu notices the distress in your eyes immediately. "Whoa, whoa, wait. I thought you'd be angry that I went behind your back but don't cry." He's panicking, trying to lean across the table and cup your cheeks. You dodge his hand, clearing your throat as you try to excuse yourself and get up. "Love, wait. Let me explain," he stops you quickly, catching your hand before you can leave. "I know I should have waited for your decision, but I just couldn't stand having others walk over you like this anymore. Your boss is insufferable. And I just— I think a part of me was also jealous, and so I just acted on instincts."
"Which is also why I want to support you no matter what. I'm the one who decided you are quitting and so it's completely on me to take care of everything even if you one day decide you don't want anything to do with me anymore."
Confusion comes back to you as you take in the sight of him — sincere, in love, without any regrets. "You quit my job for me?" You realize.
"I'm sorry," he exhales, holding onto your hand like letting go would mean losing you completely. "I was selfish, yes. But I also thought I'd make your life easier that way. That without your boss making decisions for you and using you for money, you'd like it more if you had the freedom and my support. And I know it sounds stupid because I just made a decision on your behalf and it doesn't make me any better."
"It makes you so much better, Gyu," you quickly interrupt him, unsure if you want to jump over the table and kiss him right now or pretend like it doesn't mean the world to you he's done that. "I don't think I'd ever be able to do it on my own and you—" you hide your face in your free hand, hoping he doesn't see how much you are blushing. "I love you so much."
Mingyu's eyes widen as your words reach his ears, his brain fighting with his heart as the urge to jump off his chair, wrap his arms around you, and spin around while declaring his love to you grows. He is pathetic, and just like Madam Yang said — just a man.
Your man. He thinks. He is grinning ear to ear, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he also hides his face in his hand, realizing how absolutely gone for you he is.
"Thank you."
He brings his hand away so he can look at you, squeezing your hand tightly on top of the table. "There is nothing you could possibly thank me for," he shakes his head. You open your mouth to argue but he continues before you can say anything. "Everything I did since the night I met you is because of my own feelings. I never thought I'd find myself in love or having a family despite my heart always aching for it, so the moment I figured out what I feel for you — how deeply in love I'm falling with you every day — I simply acted on my selfish intentions."
"And yet, they were always the least selfish things you could have done."
A beat of silence passes, a moment you spend simply gazing into each other's eyes and falling in love. All your worries disappear, and a part of you can't believe you ever doubted him. Kim Mingyu, the same man who's already done everything he could for you and your daughter. Of course he'd go and make you quit the job you despite so much. And as much as he says he's done it for himself, because he was selfish, you know deep down, he's done it for you.
"Let's go home?" You suggest, tilting your head slightly. Mingyu swears it's the prettiest you've been since he's met you. He isn't sure why, if it's because of the dress you're wearing, how you did your hair, the way you say home when referring to his house, or the way he can see his love reflecting in your eyes. It's probably all of the above.
"Let's go home," he repeats, his voice soft. All you can do is smile as Mingyu pays for dinner, wanting to get out of this restaurant as quickly as possible so he could finally kiss you. You feel the same urgency, wanting nothing more than to get away from all these curious eyes that you felt like were judging you the entire night and be alone with your boyfriend.
His fingers lace with yours as you walk back to his car, his suit jacket thrown over your shoulders. The cold air didn't even get to hit you before he was already wrapping you in his clothes, making sure you're warm and taken care of. He reaches to open the car door for you but you stop him, pressing your back against it and looking up at him. His eyes trail down your figure, questioning what you're doing. "Didn't you want to go home?"
"Well, right now, I just really want to kiss you since I couldn't when we were inside."
His smile grows as he closes the space between you, his hands resting on your waist as he pulls you onto him, his lips moving against yours in sync. You stand on your tiptoes, a soft, barely audible moan escaping your lips. You feel Mingyu's hands shake as he holds you, the vulnerability and hesitance clear. You don't give him the chance to question anything, wrapping your hands behind his neck and deepening the kiss. The moment he melts into your touch is so obvious your head spins with how in love you feel.
Mingyu has a problem. An aching one that is making him forget he is in public, with you pressed against his car. He is sure you feel it too, there is no other explanation as to why you'd rub yourself on him to test his limits if you couldn't feel him. "Home," he exhales against your lips, forcing himself back. You chuckle as you take in the sight of his flushed cheeks, his eyes wide.
"Quickly. There is so many ways I want to tell you how much I love you," you whisper and his grip on your waist tightens. You love seeing him like this, having him lose control all simply because you said something. You love being the one who makes him like this.
His hand rests on your thigh the entire car ride, making you feel hot. It's not only the way he squeezes your flesh any chance he gets but also the way he looks whenever you glance at him — one hand on the steering wheel and his eyes on the road. Mingyu has always been incredibly attractive, you know that. But somehow, he manages to look even better now.
The longer you look at him, the more occupied your mind gets. The memory of your kiss is all you can think about, his clothed cock pressed against you, and his hands holding you. You can't help it and think about his hands on other parts of your body, exploring every inch of your skin and worshiping you like you wish he would. You think about his lips, about how affectionate you can imagine him being with you, how finally, after years, you can see yourself making love again instead of just having sex. All thanks to him.
"Is it weird that I've never felt as good as I feel with you despite only knowing you for such a short time?" You ask quietly, staring at the road ahead. You can feel his eyes on you even without looking, knowing those brown orbs of his are watching you with as much care as always.
"Darling, you can't keep doing that to me," he groans. "You can't just— Fuck." You look at him again, your eyes softening when you see him, his emotions on full display. "If I'll crash this car because I desperately need to hold you and kiss you all over, know that it's your fault," he chuckles lowly, but you can hear the pain behind his words — pain you know he feels for you, because that's just the kind of a person he is. It's not like he's lived your life, like he's known any of the people that shaped you into who you are today, but you still know that he shares all kinds of emotions for them.
While your feelings have mostly gone numb, the previous anger and regret you felt turning into a void, Mingyu feels them for you. He holds anger for your parents and Nabi's father you can't anymore, he feels pain for you, for all the things he thinks you deserve but never could have had until you met him. It all makes him so much more attractive.
"How about you do that when we get home?" You smile.
It's weird how fast and yet tenderly the two of you can move. The moment the entrance door closes behind you, Mingyu's hands are on your waist and his lips on yours. Your back hits the wall and a whine escapes your lips, every inch of your body itching to be closer to him even though he is pressed flush against you. "It means so much to me," you whisper against his lips.
"I still should have asked first," he argues, kissing you again. He is unable to stay away for too long, needing to feel you on him as much as you need him.
"You didn't need to," you shake your head slightly. His hand cradles your jaw as he tilts your head up, allowing himself to get lost in your eyes.
"You are so beautiful," he breathes out, his thumb brushing over your lower lip. You take the opportunity and wrap your lips around his finger, keeping your eyes on his. He pushes down onto your tongue, his head spinning. He wants to take you right here, admire your naked body and sink into you, but he still has his worries that keep him from doing so, worries that he'll be pushing you into something you don't want.
You can practically see the thoughts in his eyes, letting your hands pull up his shirt and wander over his toned abs. "I want this, Gyu," you assure him as his wet thumb pulls away from your lips. "I want to enjoy our free night. I want to have you all to myself," your hands move up to his chest, his skin shivering under your fingertips.
"What if you change your mind halfway through?"
"Then I'll tell you," you promise. "I'll tell you and we'll just cuddle all night again as if nothing happened, hm? I'm not leaving if that's what you're worried about."
Gripping your waist, his head falls down to your shoulder and your eyes widen in surprise. "Does that mean it's okay to tell you how much I want this? How much I want you," he mumbles into your skin but you hear him, nodding as you trail your hands down to his waist.
"Please tell me."
He raises his head to look at you again. Neither of you say anything, telling each other everything with your gaze. His lips are on you again, gentle yet needy. And when you wrap your leg around his side, he doesn't hesitate gripping your thighs and picking you up.
The walk to the bedroom feels like hours. Not that you mind when he kisses you so sweetly, but the wetness between your legs begs for more than just this. You hold onto him, your nails digging into his shoulders until your back finally hits the softness of his mattress. Before you met him, you had no idea they could feel like this. Sleep naturally came easier ever since you started sleeping here.
Mingyu hovers above you, his broad shoulders blocking your view at the ceiling. His knee rests between your legs and you find yourself grinding against him while helping him out of his shirt. The suit jacket of his he gave you fell somewhere on the floor as he was carrying you, so it's only suitable to throw the shirt to the floor as well.
Despite seeing him shirtless before when he was picking which shirt to wear or walking out of the bathroom, it feels entirely different right now. Even though the room is dark, you can see his lines perfectly, the muscles you always admired, the tan you know he has, even the bulge in his pants.
"Mingyu," you breathe out and he hums back, his eyes trailing down your body. His hand slides under the hem of your dress, slowly making his way up and buckling the material up. Your core is still pressed against his knee as you slowly rub yourself on him. He takes his time touching every inch of your skin, just like you imagined he would.
From your ankles to your fingertips, he pays attention to it all. His hands are gentle at first, at least until he hears you moaning his name as you rub yourself on him again. You can see his eyes growing hungry as he looks at you, the urge behind them clear. But instead of acting on it, he presses his lips to your again, trying to calm himself by focusing on something else.
You on the other hand, can't seem to focus on anything but the need between your legs. "Love," you whisper this time as soon as he pulls away to breathe. His eyes widen and his hands grip your waist immediately.
"Yes?" He coos, the proudness in his voice after hearing you call him love evident.
"Please," you bat your eyelashes at him, "Can you please touch me more?"
A groan escapes his lips at the sight, your words doing wonders to him. "You'd tell me if you don't like anything, right?" He assures himself one more time and when you nod your head, he finally let's his fingers dip between your legs, feeling how wet you are. Your eyes trail his entire face as he locks his eyes on your pussy, unable to look away now that he's allowed himself to look. It's so incredibly attractive.
You let him slowly play with your clit and pull your dress off, letting the garment fall to the floor. "Can I taste you, pretty? Can I feel you on my lips?" His eyes meet yours again and you feel like coming on the spot when you see him. It was always obvious by the way he looked at you that you meant a lot to him, and he's always reminded you he wants to be around you, but the way he looks at you now is entirely different. It almost feels like he'd die if he doesn't get to have every last bit of you.
"You want to—" you swallow, suddenly shy under his gaze. "You can do anything you want, Gyu."
His brows furrow together at the answer, something about it bugging him the wrong way. "But do you want me to? Do you like it?"
"I don't know," you admit and his brows dip even further. But this time, it's not in confusion but anger.
"None of the saps you've been with done this for you?" You shake your head and he clicks his tongue, disappointed. "Can I be the first then, my love? Can I show you how good you can feel when men don't just focus on themselves but on you as well?" Your breath shakes as you nod, watching as his frown gets replaced by a proud smile again.
He takes his time kissing your inner thighs, his fingers digging into your flesh as he makes you beg for more, your pleas a pleasure to his ears. You don't care what he does, if he just decides to fuck you after all or eats you out like he just promised—you just want to feel more.
As his tongue laps between your folds though, you realize waiting was worth it. With his hands gripping your thighs, he pulls you closer onto him, keeping you in place while his tongue circles your clit. His eyes flicker to your face from time to time but other than that, he pays his full attention to your needy pussy. Had it not been for his grip, your thighs would have closed around his head in an instead. But like this, you are forced to feel it all.
Your back arches under the pleasure, one of your hands instinctively reaching for his hair while the other fists the bed sheet under you. You grind your hips forward, your clit rubbing on his nose. His tongue pushes past your folds into your gummy walls, making your eyes roll back. Experiencing this for the first time, you understand why he was so mad no one's ever done this for you. It just shows how much he truly loves you.
"God, baby," you gasp, a loud whine leaving your lips. He smirks against you as he slowly pulls away, his lips glistening.
"That's not my name, love," he teases, circling your clit with his fingers. "Or were you praying for a baby? Is that what you want with me?" He ignores his own cock twitching in his pants at his words, thrusting two fingers into you. With how thick they are, you feel like there are three inside you. "Do you want me to put one into you? Because that works differently, darling. I can't do that with my tongue."
As if his fingers now stretching you open wasn't already enough, the way he speaks to you makes you so cock-drunk you question how you managed to spend the last two weeks with him without jumping on him.
You whine and his smirk only grows. "Did I get it right? Do you want my baby in you?" A part of you is convinced if he keeps going, you just might tell him yes — that you absolutely do. "But we already have a baby, love. You think we can take care of two, hm?"
"Yes," you gasp as he hits your sweet spot, your back arching again.
To Kim Mingyu, there isn't a more beautiful sight. With his fingers deep inside you, your naked body itching towards him and pleasure he knows you hadn't gotten much before written all across your face, the only thing missing is that baby of his inside your belly.
The only thing that compares to how you look right now is how you look with a smile on your face and your daughter in your hands. And while every inch of his body wants to fuck another baby into you, he'll be just as happy if Nabi is the only child in his life.
"My love, I shall die with this image painted in my mind," he groans, lowering himself again and wrapping his lips around your clit. It doesn't take much longer for him to make you come on his tongue, your legs shaking around his head as he helps you reach an orgasm you didn't think you had in you.
And when he comes back up, the grin on his face is unforgettable. He lets go off your thigh only to lace his fingers with yours, giving your hand a tight squeeze as he praises you for doing good. You try to steady your breath, ignoring his comment and remembering the feeling of his lips on you. Now that you've got a taste, you don't think you'll be able to fuck without it.
"The baby," you breathe out when your eyes find his. "Put one into me, love," the quiet plea rings in Mingyu's ears much louder, your words repeating over and over again in his head. He has to fight himself not to come untouched with his pants still on.
"Oh, darling," he coos as if his head wasn't spinning thinking about it. "You just finished and you already want more?"
You nod with a whine, reaching your free hand behind his back and tugging him closer. With your lips mere inches away from his, your voice grows more desperate. "You do this to me. It's your fault."
Another loud groan leaves Mingyu's lips as he drops his forehead to your shoulder, hiding his face so you wouldn't see just how pathetic your words make him. You chuckle at the reaction, reaching down and tugging his pants down as far as you can — even though you barely pull it down enough to free his cock. But that's enough for now.
Your fingers wrap around his length and you look at him, waiting for him to raise his head. He doesn't. Keeping his head buried in the crook of your neck, he enjoys the feelings of your hand rubbing over his tip. He knows you are waiting for a reaction, teasing him, but this is the reaction he is going to give you now, nothing more and nothing less.
But that's enough for you. Because while he thinks he is making himself unable to read this way, you focus on the small details that tell you he is enjoying this. Like the way he squeezes your hand, or the way his hips trust forward in your hand, or the muffled moans against your skin.
"Love," you beg, squeezing his tip. Another groan and finally, he looks at you again. "Will you please put it in?"
That's all he needs to hear before straightening his back and forcing his pants down, kicking them off. He is in a rush, that much is something anyone could tell. And god, do you love it. You pull up to wrap your hands behind his neck, doing the same with your legs around his hips with a smile on your face. His lips immediately crash with yours, his tip rubbing between your folds.
It's nice seeing him like this, knowing that while it was him making you crazy just a few minutes ago, you can make him feel the same way with ease. You pull him flush against you, your chest pressed against his as he slowly sinks into you. Your mouth falls open at the stretch but he never stops kissing you.
"I want you to look at me, love," he says as soon as he sees you closing your eyes at the pleasure. You whine as you listen to him, locking your eyes with his. "I want you to see who is making you feel good. I want you to know you're with me."
You nod, his words echoing in your ears. It's hard to stay focused when you can feel him everywhere; his hands on your waist, his lips on yours, his cock inside you — it's all too much. Every inch of your body begs to just turn off and give into the pleasure fully, but you get why he wants you to look at him, why it's so important for him to make sure you are being loved right now and not just used. Somehow, it makes you hornier.
Your heels dig into his lower back, keeping him close. It's probably impossible for the two of you to be closer than you are now, but you love it this way. It's not something you are used to, and that just makes him so much more special.
"Faster," you plea. A low groan leaves his lips as he speeds his pace, his hips thrusting towards you much quicker now. It's clear he was just trying to stay gentle before — which you appreciate deep down — but you want to feel all of him, see what he can give you even when he stops treating you like something fragile.
"Darling, you—" this time it's a whine that escapes him and you don't think you've ever heard anything more beautiful. You are gone, so gone for this man. You could kiss the ground Kim Mingyu walks on, simply because you know he'd do the same without a moment of hesitation. "I can't—"
You crash your lips against his before he can finish, keeping yourself occupied so you wouldn't just moan with every thrust he gives you. He moves against you with hunger, that you can feel with his every touch. His grip on your waist tightens as soon as he registers the kiss, his fingers digging into your flesh. He will probably leave some light marks after his hands but you don't mind, you can't when your nails scratch his back in return. You might not be able to see the art you leave behind right now, but you know the red lines will look beautiful on his back.
Your pussy clench around him as you reach your orgasm again, his own following right after. He covers your walls white and you truly believe you've never felt better about making a man come. Maybe it's because he makes you feel taken care of, or maybe it's just because of how attractive he is, but you'd like to believe the fluttery in your chest has something to do with it.
He doesn't pull away even after the orgasm and you don't let him go either, the position turning into a warm embrace. "How am I supposed to leave tomorrow?" he whispers against your skin as he lets his head drop to your shoulder again. "Knowing that you'll be right here, in my bed, sleeping without me? How am I supposed to fly anywhere and not crash?"
"You'll need to keep thinking about how needy I'll be as soon as you come back. You can't fall from the skies when you'll have me waiting for you," you smile, pressing your lips to his shoulder. You can already imagine it, having Nabi on your hips as you come greet him at the door with the biggest smile on your face, his open arms as he swallows you in a tight hug immediately from how much he'd missed you, and having him cling to you the entire time he is home.
You can see yourself living like this for the rest of your life. With him by your side.
It's incredible, how much ones life can change in the span of a few days. If anyone told you you'd be having these thoughts a few weeks ago — hell, even if they did just last week — you wouldn't believe them at all. But now, it doesn't seem like such an unimaginable things. You can picture Mingyu being a dad to your daughter, you can picture him being a partner, a husband, to you, and you can picture finally living the ordinary life you once dreamed of.
Mingyu feels the same way. He used to love suffocating himself with work, being in the skies as much as he could, surrounded with his colleagues. He used to hate coming home just as much. He used to hate the feeling of an empty house and no one waiting for him.
But now, there is nothing more he wants to do than be at home and stop flying entirely. Not because he wouldn't enjoy it anymore, but because there are things far more important to him now. He can see himself working an office job if he needs to, being with you every night, and raising your daughter like his own.
He can see it all too well.
Suddenly, being home isn't as lonely as it once was.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
"Daddy! Mom says you need to go away for whole two weeks!" Nabi rushes into the room dramatically, her big eyes on the verge of crying as she looks up. "Tell her she's wrong! Why would you go away again?"
"Oh, butterfly," he coos, picking her up with ease and resting her on his lap. She's all grown now — a six year old, he reminds himself — but there are still things she doesn't completely understand and takes out of context. "I need to go to work. Remember how we looked at those airplanes last week? I'll be flying a similar one so I can buy you and mommy nice things." Still, every time he hears her refer to him as her dad, he has to resist the urge to quit his job and stay with the two of you forever.
"I didn't say you were going away," you argue as you follow your daughter inside the bedroom, leaning at the door frame with your arms crossed over your chest. "I said you would be at work for the next two weeks."
"That's not fair! Who is going to teach me to read? Daddy, stay home," she begs and Mingyu meets your eyes from across the room. You know this is his weakness. It was a few months after you moved into his house that she called him dad for the first time — it was dada at that time — and he was on the verge of crying as he picked her up and spun her around in the air, making her feel like she was flying. It was huge for him, and seeing him so excited over it only made your feelings for him grow.
There wasn't a single time where you'd question his devotion to the two of you. He's changed his life entirely just to make sure you had everything you've always wanted, from a lovely home to a partner who would stand by you. He's worked things around with his boss and agreed on only taking jobs that would allow him to be back home for dinner or breakfast the next morning, aside for a few exceptions. You could see that it was something new for him, being home for the night and sleeping in his own bed, but you could also see the happiness it brought him.
And every time you question if you made the right decision, if you weren't in the wrong for trapping him like this and limiting his options, he'd greet you with a long kiss after getting back home and reminding you just how much he loves living like this.
There is nothing better that could have happened to you. Kim Mingyu is the second greatest thing that happened to you, right after your daughter.
"Baby, you know daddy can't just do that," you cross the room, squatting down beside his leg and locking eyes with her. "He would get in big trouble if he didn't listen to his boss."
"How about uncle Jihoon helps you read while I'm gone and then you'll show me all that you learned, hm?" Mingyu smiles at her, watching the frown on her face slowly turn into a smile as well as she thinks about it. "I promise I'll be with you the entire week after that. And we can talk about that thing I told you about." Her eyes widen in excitement and you question what he means, tilting your head confusedly. "That's just between me and my little angel," he grins at you.
"Yes! It's a secret!" A big smile decorates Nabi's face as well, her crooked teeth showcasing. "One mommy can't know about!"
"Mingyu," your eyes narrow as you look at him. He doesn't answer though, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the top of your head instead.
"Let it be a surprise," he mumbles before kissing your daughter's head as well. Considering how secretive he is about it, it must be something serious. Usually, he'd fold under you in an instant and tell you anything you want to know, but it seems this time he is set on keeping it a secret.
"Keep in mind I can lock you outside if I don't like what you're planning," you remind him and a flash of fear appears in his eyes.
"You'll love it!" Nabi interrupts immediately.
"Of course, baby," you smile at her. Standing up from the floor, you pick her up again, ready to get back to cooking lunch. But you stop at the door once more, glancing back at Mingyu and narrowing your eyes to show him you're not playing around.
But Mingyu keeps a grin on his face, unable to hide his excitement as he thinks about the first thing he wants to do when he comes back from this trip — asking you to marry him.
⭑ pairing: speakeasy owner!hoshi x gangster!f.reader
٠࣪⭑ for: puttin' on the ritz collab hosted by @studiosvt
٠࣪⭑ summary: Nothing’s ever been serious where you’re concerned, especially the way you flirt with him, but when Soonyoung overhears something he shouldn’t, and your perfect mask slips, he starts to wonder if you’ve been keeping other secrets hidden in the dark.
٠࣪⭑ genre: 1920s mafia AU, set in NYC during the prohibition. smut, angst, happy ending
٠࣪⭑ rating: explicit. minors do not interact, i'll block you.
٠࣪⭑ warnings: guns, violence, blood, nothing gory but there is a gunshot wound, brief implication of torture but none described, cheol gets punched (sorry cheol), a hidden pregnancy and subsequent child, theft, drinking, smoking, typical misogyny of the era, deception. (listen, it's hard to be anything more than morally grey when you're the daughter of a mafia boss, but i tried to make her somewhat redeemable 💔)
٠࣪⭑ smut warnings: kissing, unprotected sex (don't be silly), oral (m receiving), fingering.
if you think i've forgotten any warnings please let me know so i can fix my post!
٠࣪⭑wc: 10.6k (complete)
٠࣪⭑ a/n: hello loves! i'm not normally one for writing children into fics, but for this one and the time it's set in, it felt right. this was meant to be posted ages ago but i was so busy i couldn't write for a while, and then i meant to finish it the other day but my afternoon got taken over looking after a pigeon. no rest for the wicked, ig.
٠࣪⭑ thank yous: enormous thank u 2 my beloved @starlightkyeom for reading this over in the early hours of the morning, i adore you, @joshujin for the banner (incredible as always), and @gyuswhore for the extra time 💕
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Now
“What are you doing here? He might see–”
“It’s about him, Miss. We need t–”
“Damn it, Seungcheol. Inside, quickly now.”
He doesn’t mean to listen in, never would consider invading your space without being invited, but Soonyoung’s on his way back from the storeroom when he catches your voice echoing down the corridor. Rounds the corner to see your back pressed against the door frame, and Seungcheol, the club’s bouncer, passing through it. You hastily close the door behind you, but not quite enough. He knows all too well how it sticks, sometimes.
Soonyoung hears the whispering, and inches forward as he hears his name. You and Seungcheol together, in that room? Well, repugnance rises in him like bile. What could you be doing, inviting another man into the dressing room– yours Wednesday through Sunday– when you’d swore blind that he was the only one for you? How could you do this in his place, right under his damn nose.
Are you raising your skirt for Seungcheol, like you do for him? Are you showing him how wet you get? Or worse… are you telling him of your dreams? Does he know how badly you want to be done with this place, this city, this life? Does Seungcheol tell you you’re a star? Does he say that you could shine bright anywhere in the world with that voice of yours, that face, and that he’d take you away with him one day, when the time is right?
He’s holding his breath outside the door, can’t decide yet whether to burst in or to leave it entirely, but then he hears the flick of your lighter, and the mention of his investor’s name out of Seungcheol’s mouth.
Soonyoung’s eyebrows draw together. Of course Seungcheol knows him– he’d expect nothing less of his investor to have someone on the inside to keep a close eye, but what takes him aback is that you seem to know him too.
“What’ll you have me tell Sugar, Miss?” asks Seungcheol.
There’s a long silence before you answer.
“Are you sure it’s Soonyoung?” you ask shortly.
“We are,” insists Seungcheol. “Minghao checked the records and the safe, too. He’s ready for something– seems he’s been getting ready for some time.”
Soonyoung’s blood runs cold. They know. Shit– it’s a wonder they haven’t got him tied to a chair and beaten blue already. He needs to go, needs to take the case he’s kept hidden for months, needs to take the money (if it’s still there) and leave this wretched place– but you, and the sudden quandary of your involvement in this keeps him rooted to the spot. Do you work for them too? Have you been telling Sugar all his secrets? Was spying on him the sole reason you seduced him, all those years ago?
“Miss– Miss are you listening? Your father wants you to handle this yourself.”
Father.
Your father.
Soonyoung almost loses his stomach, right there in the corridor.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
June 1923
“Why The Blue Pearl?” you ask, passing him your half-smoked cigarette.
Soonyoung has lost count of the amount of times he’s laid like this with you, in his little apartment in Hell’s Kitchen, but tonight is special. It’s his birthday, and although it’s a Monday, you brought him a cake, haphazardly decorated (but at least delicious), and told him to make a wish.
You’re in your slip, palest pink, which was bunched up around your waist only ten minutes prior, with your bare legs resting over his. He told you once his favourite part of you were your legs, but they’re not. It’s your eyes, and the starshine within them.
“For my mother,” he answers, flicking the ash into a tray on his nightstand and taking a drag. “She loved Edith Hallor. They worked on Broadway together, she even came for dinner at the house a few times.”
“Your mother’s an actress?” The surprise is evident in your voice.
“Nah. She worked on costumes.” Soonyoung smiles ruefully. “Edith was her favourite. We talked about seeing the movie together but Ma passed before it started showing.”
You turn onto your side, body pressed flush against his own and you look at him with those pretty eyes and tell him how sorry you are.
“I didn’t know, Soonie,” you say.
“How could you?” he says, stubbing out the cigarette and stifling a yawn. “I never mentioned her before now.”
“How’d she go?”
“Influenza, like every other fucker in the city.”
“You oughtn’t curse when talking about your mother!” you scold him, smacking lightly at his chest.
Soonyoung laughs and grabs your hand, twines your fingers together and holds them over his heart.
“She must’ve been a good woman,” you say quietly.
“What makes you say such a thing?”
“She raised you, didn’t she?” You press your lips to his jaw. “Only a wonderful person could’ve raised a man like you.”
And it’s the first time he’s heard you so serious in the few years since you met. Three or four nights a week you spend in his club, winking at him from your place on the stage, sitting at the bar after your set and asking him to stop washing glasses so he can come show you some of his moves. You’ve always loved the way he dances, throwing your head back laughing as he helps you with the steps, calling him New York's very own Rudolph Valentino. He’s never seen you in the daylight, but around you, he’s never felt anything but sunshine.
“What did you wish for?” you ask gently. “When you blew out your candle?”
He smiles. Some variation of the picket-fence fantasy he’s played out in his head so many times over the last few years. Pictures you in lights, maybe he teaches folk how to dance, and you’re both coming home to a house you share. Imagines what your children would look like, wonders if he could ever feel a kick underneath his palm on your belly, as his mother said his father did.
“Would you marry me?”
And as soon as those hasty words hang in the air he regrets them.
“Soonyoung–” you start, quietly, stroking his cheek. “I– I can’t. I’m sorry.”
And he knows you love him, even though you’ve never said the words aloud. Knows because of the way you look at him, the way you only have eyes for him in a room full of rich, handsome men– ones with status and power and everything else a woman like you could have. But it’s him you keep coming back to, it’s his name you gasp into his sheets, and you say it’s only him who’s ever made you feel so alive.
He closes his eyes. Lets you kiss his collarbone and his jaw and his cheek and his eyelids and say I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I wish… I wish–
“Why can’t you?” he asks, so crestfallen, as you kiss into his hair.
You hesitate, so he presses again.
“My family,” you whisper. “My daddy, mostly. He’d never allow it.”
He swallows the lump in his throat. “Because I’m–”
“No,” you quickly interject. “It’s nothing to do with you. He just has other plans for me, Soonyoung. Ones that don’t involve wasting my time on anything as trivial as love.”
Love.
Soonyoung turns his face to you, and God, you look as dejected as he feels. So he lets you kiss him and kiss him and kiss him until he wonders if maybe this kind of love could be enough.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Now
“I know, Seungcheol.” You take a long drag of your cigarette, running your finger along the rim of your champagne coupe, the vibration of it singing. “Let me think.”
It’s quite the surprise that Soonyoung would betray your father after close to a decade. He’s been as loyal as they come, careful with the staff he hires and even more so with the money. As of late there’s been a shortfall, and your fool of a brother had speculated it could be due to increased patrols in the area, as reported at other establishments under The Mob’s control, but you hadn’t noticed any difference in the level of patronage. You’d suspected one of the barmen or waitresses, maybe. Not Soonyoung. Never him.
But it seems Soonyoung finally got the balls to do what he’d always talked about with you. Get some money together and escape this wretched place. And you knew he wanted out badly, but had no idea this was how he planned to do it. What a crying shame he had to be so reckless as to steal from your father.
So you swallow your resentment as you stub out your cigarette. Your father might be out for blood but he’ll be keen to let you handle this mess, and if you can pin the blame elsewhere you’ll take every opportunity. If nothing else, you can buy Soonyoung some time.
“Follow him tonight,” you say, eyeing the crack in the door and the shadow that moves across it. “Don’t let him know, just see where he goes.”
Seungcheol frowns. “Sugar will be expecting you to have him brought in.”
“We ought to find out where the money is first, don’t you think?” You stand, smoothing down your dress. “You can pick him up once we find out where he’s keeping it.”
Your longtime bodyguard still seems hesitant, so you say, “Come on, Cheolie. You’ll want some variety by now, surely? A bit of detective work will be a nice change from looking after little old me?”
“It’s a pleasure to look out for you, Miss.”
You smile at him.
Seungcheol is your man. He’s been more of a brother these last ten years than your own blood has ever been. Loyal to you over your father, as he’s proved time and time again, but you’ve always known to keep your cards close to your chest until the time is right. You’ll tell Seungcheol the truth about you and Soonyoung, just as soon as you figure out what the hell you’re going to do.
“Sweet Seungcheol. You don’t know how thankful I am for you.” You walk over to him and blood flushes his face ruddy as you reach up to kiss his cheek. “But don’t you dare question my methods again.”
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
December 1919
“Joshua tells me you can sing?” asks Soonyoung, throwing the towel over his shoulder.
“Yes sir,” you say, leaning across the bar to pluck an olive from the bowl. A smile tugs at his mouth at your self-assuredness. “I’ve always wanted to perform in a place like this. It’s beautiful.”
You’re right, it is beautiful. It’d be even more so with your face up there on the stage, but he needs to hear your voice first. No use having a singer who can’t hold a tune. It’s thanks to Sugar that he can afford a performer at all. Without his investment it’d be just like any other gin joint cropping up around the city.
“Well go on now,” he says, nodding toward the centre of the room. “Stage is yours, sweetheart.”
You look around, an uncertain expression on your face. “But– there’s no music.”
Soonyoung places his hands on the bar and leans close, a smirk playing on his lips. “Aren’t you the music?”
And your voice is as spectacular as your face. His jaw hangs slack as you deliver your final notes and he can’t quite believe you’re gunning for here rather than Broadway. Rather than Hollywood. There’s been talk of modern advances that’ll allow sound in the next few years. You should surely be there, readying for the spotlights and the cameras instead singing to regular folk in this smokey room. You’re a ready made star.
He wonders where you might’ve come from, or how you even know Joshua. Anyone can tell you come from money, without a ring on your finger and standing there with a string of pearls around your neck and diamonds dripping from your ears. Your fur coat drapes over the chair at the bar, and your dress is made of silk rather than cotton, like his shirt. Women like you only come to places like this to drink and find men to marry, not to work for ten dollars a night.
“By that look on your face, I’m thinking you’ll have me, Mr Kwon?”
Your winning smile is all sunshine.
“You can call me Soonyoung, sweetheart,” he says, resting his chin on his hands. “Yes, I’ll have you.”
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Now
What can he do? What is there to do? You’re having him followed by his own Goddamn bouncer so he can’t very well leave now, can he? Soonyoung’s worldview has been flipped upside down and every carnal instinct he has tells him to run, but he finds himself back behind the bar in thirty seconds flat. Joshua gives him an uneasy smile as he watches him knock back a thumbmeasure of gin.
“Not like you to work through the supplies before the night’s even started,” he remarks, buffing a mark from the glass and setting it on the shelf above him. “Are you unwell?”
“Got a headache,” Soonyoung bluffs.
He’ll have to wait. Go about his business as he would’ve a few months prior and just go home after lock up, instead of to his cousin’s apartment on the Lower East Side. Maybe once Seungcheol’s off his tail he can move the money back. Maybe he could ask Jihoon to–
And the music starts, but this time he can’t even look at you as you take centre stage in your sparkling, silver dress. You sing your first and last songs for him, you always said, making eyes across the room through the haze of smoke and putting all your heart in it. This time, he can only think of his naivety, his carelessness, and the depths of your betrayal. All these years you’ve never been his at all. And the despair nearly makes its way onto his face as the song carries on, and he keeps playing pretend all is well.
Of course he’s heard stories of Sugar’s children. Knows about the oaf of a son that spends all his money on expensive liquor and cheap whores. Knows no one trusts him to inherit the empire, and that Sugar himself speaks of his uselessness. Everyone talks of how the girl is favoured, that she doesn’t have a drop of hesitation in her when it comes to putting someone in their place, and that when she kills it’s cold and clean.
So you’ve certainly inherited your father’s traits, haven’t you? All sweetness and charm and warmth until the time comes, aren’t you? Are you as cutthroat as him? Do you care anything at all for the blood spilled in his name? Have you used that twisted method of his, sweetened boiled water, poured over flesh?
And suddenly all his memories feel like falsehoods, and the loving words whispered in his ear feel like deceit and he can’t believe he fell for a play like this. Of course you wouldn’t want him. Of course he was just a job to you.
Soonyoung knows nothing at all, it seems.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
March 1925
“I’m leaving, Soonyoung.”
You’re fixing your hair in the mirror as he pulls his braces back over his shoulders. His face has that lovely flush it gets after you’ve had your way with him. Eyes still a little soft, and a lazy, self-assured smile plays on cherry smeared lips.
He smiles wide. “Come kiss me again then, sweetheart.”
“No, baby.” You turn with a sad smile. “I’m going away.” His face falls, and you can’t look at him, casting your eyes to the floor. “I know a girl who can sing and she’ll fill my spot, she’s coming to see you about it on Monday evening.”
“Where you going?” he asks under his breath.
“Los Angeles.” The lie slides off your tongue like honey. “A man from Hollywood heard me singing last week. Says I have a face good enough that I could be a movie star there, maybe.”
Soonyoung’s expression goes all hard and soft, upticks his brows in effort not to let you see how it breaks him inside, and you know this was the perfect story. He’d never dream of standing in your way. He’s nothing at all like your daddy. Nothing at all like your new husband, except for a little something in the way his mouth is shaped. It’s what makes it bearable, sometimes, that when you have to kiss him you can sometimes imagine it’s Soonyoung instead.
What breaks your heart in two is the way he smiles, so forlornly, when he quietly tells you– “you’re the star in any room you walk in, baby.”
And he must see the despondent look on your face, because his arms come around your body in a second, and you almost cry. Would do anything to stay here, with him, in this place, in his arms. But if you were to stick around, he’ll see the way your body will surely grow, and he’ll have questions you couldn’t possibly answer. You’re not the shark your father considers you to be, not with him. With Soonyoung, you’re the person you always wanted to be.
“I’ll miss you,” you say into his chest, voice choked, and for the first time today, in ages, it’s something honest.
“I’ll visit,” he offers, though you know that even if you’d give him your address he could never make time to travel to where he thinks you’ll be, somewhere across the country, while under the thumb of a man like your father.
You swallow. “That’d be wonderful.”
And he kisses you deep, kisses you like it’s the last one he’ll ever have, puts all his love for you in it and you take it, just like you’re taking everything else of his.
“You’ll write me, won’t you?” he whispers, his panted breath fanning your lips.
“Of course I will.”
Of course, you don’t.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Now
Three days go by without movement before your father’s patience wears thin. ‘Fuck the money,’ he’d growled, his deceptively sweet face turned sour. ‘Kill him.’ And so you’re outside Soonyoung’s apartment, a revolver cold against your skin under your fur coat, and Seungcheol is at the wheel.
But daddy doesn’t know that Seungcheol is your guy, and although he’s never called you anything but Miss, he’s always had something akin to a brotherly affection for you. And you know it’s no easy ask, what you’ve told him you need tonight– but he’ll do it. You can see he’s still working through your revelations, and it’s left his jaw set so tight it must surely ache. It’s a pity the outcome of tonight will have a price to pay, but for Seungcheol you’ll do everything you can to lessen his beating.
“Will he go along with it, Miss?”
You suck in a breath. “Depends if he wants to live.”
He bristles. Hesitates a moment before saying, “I don’t like it, Miss. Not one little bit. What if he h–”
“Well you’ll be right there, won’t you, Cheolie? Come fetch me when the lights go out.”
You give his arm a squeeze before he gets out to open your car door. There’s a chill tonight, your breath fogs the air and you pull your coat tighter around your body. Low light flickers in the window of Soonyoung’s apartment, and a shadow moves across it. He’s been watching.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
24th December 1924
The Blue Pearl always feels so much warmer at Christmas, with all the lights and the decorations and the huge tree dressed in red and gold in the corner of the room. He’s strung up paper stars and mistletoe all over the place, holly and ivy adorn the piano behind you, and a red ribbon bow is tied perfectly around your microphone.
Soonyoung certainly knows how to throw a party. Joshua and Vernon are run off their feet making drinks, and the girls are busy entertaining men throwing their money around like they haven’t got families at home, but Soonyoung– he’s watching you, elbows on the bar and chin resting on the heel of his palm, some proud stupid-in-love kind of look in his eyes as he smiles while you deliver your final verse.
The last notes from the piano ring in the air, and the audience still sober enough to stand do so, the noise of cheering and whooping and clapping feels almost like the roar of the ocean.
“Be sure to tip your bartenders and waitresses well tonight,” you call into the mic, smiling wide. Joshua and Vernon glance up at you with appreciation and you wink at them. “Merry Christmas everyone!”
The band kicks up again as one of the regulars helps you off stage with a firm hand, and though you only have eyes for the man behind the bar in his pinstripe shirt, unbuttoned at the collar on account of the heat in this room, you’re stopped numerous times by patrons on your way over to him. So you offer them your smile and try to slip away before Soonyoung gets caught up in some menial task that doesn’t involve stealing away to your dressing room.
“You’re too good for this place,” Soonyoung says as you finally approach the bar.
You wrinkle your nose. “And yet something keeps me coming back.”
He laughs and leans across the bar, pressing his palms flat on the counter. Looks good enough to kiss.
“Can I fix you a drink, sweetheart?” he asks, a soft lilt in his voice.
“No,” you say. “But you can come dance with me.”
“I’m working.”
“A feeble excuse,” you tease. “You’ve been watching me for the past five minutes.”
“Twenty at least,” complains a passing Vernon, and you giggle.
“C’mon, Soonyoung,” you pout. “Just one dance.”
“Might as well go, boss,” calls Joshua, shaking a cocktail. “We’ve got things handled, and your girl won’t stop sulking until she gets all your attention.”
Soonyoung laughs again, pushing his tongue into his cheek and you grin, triumphant.
And so one dance turns into two turns into five turns into slipping away to the back door, a needy Soonyoung on your heels down the corridor. Sweat drips down your skin and he kisses down your neck in the privacy of your dressing room, the cold wall against your back stealing your breath from your lungs. The noise from the club is muffled now. In here, it’s warm lamplight and the scent of powder, and Soonyoung pressing into the gap between your legs, tongue and teeth working over the sensitive spot below your ear.
You lean back just enough to breathe, and he follows instinctively, chasing your mouth. There’s something in his face that makes your chest ache– something open and unguarded and fervent.
“On your knees,” he breathes.
You’ve always loved this side of Soonyoung. This urgency, this passion, how he loses himself in you completely. Even more so on nights like this, when you wear his favourite dress and that perfume he says smells like sin. Something about it makes him forget the tenderness you see when you’re in his apartment in the middle of the night, casts it aside in favour of raw, carnal desire. Makes you feel so desperately wanted, because no one else would dare make demands of you like this.
And so you look up at him with wide eyes as you sink to the floor, and he undoes his belt. Soonyoung smirks dirty as you work the buttons of his fly– lets out some low, pleased hum as you tug his cock free and wrap your hand firm around his girth. He stares down at you with parted lips and hungry eyes, cheeks flushing pretty as you stroke him. Groans soft when you roll your hand over the head, and watches, enraptured, when your free hand finds the space between your own legs. And though he can’t see the way you slide your finger over your bare clit beneath the hem of your dress, the way you suck in a breath is enough to inspire his imagination.
Your eyes flit up to meet his again as you lean in, flicking your tongue over the bead of moisture gathering at the head and his hands fly to your hair, gathers it in his fist as your mouth sinks over him with hollowed cheeks. He hisses as you pull back, swirl your tongue around the head and take him fully in again. Panted breaths fall from parted lips as you slip into a rhythm, fingers circled around the base as take him deep in your mouth again and again. His leaking cock twitches against your lips when you pull back, when you tease the slit with your tongue and his desperate moan is so sweet to your ears.
His breaths are falling broken and rapid and you’re heated by the sound of it, fingers sinking deep into your wet cunt and it’s almost enough to get you off, this power you have over him, but he’s swearing something filthy and incoherent as he tugs you off him and drags you up to press you back against the wall.
“Can’t–” he pants against your mouth, stopping to kiss you deep and messy. “Need to feel how wet you are.”
You smirk, arching your back and lifting your leg to rest your foot on the vanity, and Soonyoung responds instantly, fingers spreading against the small of your back, drawing you in until there’s no air between you. Finds your lips and kisses you hard and senseless. Your hand slides from his collar up into his hair, feeling the soft strands at his nape, tugging gently just to hear the way his breath hitches.
His hand goes to your thigh, sliding over your stockings and brushing his fingers over the soft skin in the gap between the band and the hem of your corset. You snag his earlobe between your teeth, reach for his cock to pump him slow and easy and he groans, dimpling the flesh of your thigh beneath his fingertips.
And finally his hand finds your centre, and his eyes blow wide. Stares at you for a long moment before you say, “Merry Christmas, baby.”
He laughs loud, doesn’t waste any time before pressing between your legs and lining his cock up against your entrance and sinking into your tight, wet heat. “Filthy girl,” he rasps, bottoming out inside you and watching your lips fall apart. “Anyone could’ve seen.”
“Only you,” you gasp as he pulls out slow just to fuck back in hard. And he drops his head to your shoulder, smirks against your skin as he takes you like this, filling you with an exquisite stretch. You slip your arms beneath his shirt and around his back, fingers on sweat-slick skin, feeling the tension in the hard lines of definition there and his pace hastens, pushing hard into your wet cunt, clenching tight around him.
The buckle of his belt is digging into your inner thigh, biting at the flesh and you know it’ll leave a raw mark there, but some indistinct part of you wants it. Wants his lasting impression on your skin, because between all the small, fading scars you’ve been given by others, at least one should belong to him. Makes you want to make your own, crescent moons in his back, and Soonyoung makes a deliciously lewd noise as you dig in, and it’s all you can focus on beyond the sound his skin slapping against yours, the slick of his cock buried in your pussy, and a moan sliding from your throat.
And then he’s moving, lifting you into his arms and finding the chair in the corner of the room before falling into it. He holds you in his lap as you drag your dress over your shoulders and toss it to the floor– drops his face into your cleavage and mouths at your skin when you lift up to line his cock up against your entrance again and sink back down.
You steady yourself with hands on his shoulders as you lean back, let him see the mess he’s made of you, the sheen of your wetness on the base of his cock as you tighten around him. He curses, throws his head back and closes his eyes, cock twitching inside your pussy, and you know he won’t last much longer.
“Feels good,” you gasp.
“Yeah?” he slurs. “Shit, baby, tell me just how good I fuck you.”
Soonyoung all but shakes as you ride him, talking him through it dirty and obscene, circling your hips and grinding against him. This new position is blinding, almost, the way he feels so impossibly deep– made infinitely more so when his thumb circles your clit and you release a broken cry. That white-hot wave rushes through your veins, that telltale, dirty squelch where your bodies connect, and you’re rendered incoherent as he steadies his feet on the ground and fucks up into you, gathering the wetness that spills from your cunt with his fingers and running rapid circles over your clit. You come with a violent tremor and a fragmented whine, and Soonyoung swears, leans forward to bury his face in your chest again and lets out a velvet moan.
“God–” he chokes, eyes aflame. “Sweetheart, I’m gonna–”
“Inside me, baby. Wanna feel it.”
“Fuck fuck fuck– oh my God,” he gasps, words muffled against your skin, fingers digging into your hips to still them as he spills cum into your shaking body.
You press your forehead to his, and though it’s been several years of this– years of coming to each other in the dead of night, stealing away to your dressing room to press pause on time like this, you’re dying to tell him what he means to you. God, if you could you’d have married him years ago. He hasn’t told you he loves you since that night in his apartment with a crudely decorated cake, but you know he still does. Nothing else has changed.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Now
Soonyoung pulls open the door as soon as you knock.
“What are you doing here?” he asks evenly. “We don’t see each other on Mondays.”
You tilt your head, smiling in a way that doesn’t reach your eyes. Did you always smile like that? Is it only now that he knows who you are that he sees beyond the mask?
“Won’t you invite me in, Soonie?”
And he considers turning you out, but with Seungcheol sitting downstairs in the same Cadillac Sedan that was always parked outside your building, he figures it’ll only be a matter of time.
You glide past him like you own the place. Every room you’ve been in has been yours. He’d put it down to your quality, your inner light, but now he understands it comes with the ego that comes with carrying the name of a man that runs the whole Goddamn city. Your gloved fingers brush the edge of the table, the fabric of the curtains. You glance out the window, down to the car sitting outside and the amber end of Seungcheol’s cigarette, glowing in the dark. And he watches the way you turn, clocking the suitcase half-packed, the mess of papers on the countertop, and his coat draped over the chair rather than on the hook.
“You’re wondering about the case… I’m visiting my aunt in W–”
“Give it up, baby,” you say softly. “Let’s not pretend you don’t know who I am.”
He forces a laugh, before asking– “what’re you talking about?”
“Oh, Soonyoung.” You slip off your gloves finger by finger. He watches the movement. Two weeks back he’d have pulled those same gloves off with his teeth. “You were never any good at lying.”
The air thickens around him, jaw tightening. So this is it? These are his final hours? Moments? God, how he wishes he could’ve gone out in blissful ignorance. Wishes he could’ve gone out loving you as he thought you were, rather than loving a fabrication.
“So you’re here on your father’s business?”
You laugh, and the sound cuts him.
“I’m here on my–”
“Don’t lie to me! Sugar sent you, right?” he asks coldly, a tick in his jaw when you nod. “Well, you can tell him I’m flattered. I did wonder if I was worth a personal visit.”
You stare at him, and Soonyoung can’t bear the look in your eyes. “You’re worth everything to me.”
“Spare me the bullshit!” He hates the sound of his voice, all sharp and unkind and not a tone he’s ever used with you. “All these years you’ve been spying on me, huh?”
All that anger coiled in his gut over the last few days unfurls– the flames ripping up his gullet and out of his mouth with every intention of burning you like you did him. He’s only in this mess because of you anyway. Because of his stupid, reckless love for you. “Bet you laughed about it! Bet you have some other man in your bed and you laughed at me and my ignorance and what a fool I’ve been for you!”
And it spurs him on– the way your jaw clenches and the way you can’t look at him.
“Did you really have to screw me too? You had to go and make me love you? What was that for, sweetheart? Your fucking ego? Fuck you!”
You regard him for a moment, and Soonyoung is thrown by your silence. Instead of fighting with him all you do is huff a frustrated breath and reach into your purse for your cigarettes. You take a seat at the table by the window before lighting one, and pointedly gesturing for him to sit down too.
The audacity of you– telling him to sit in his own fucking home. The anger fizzes at his bones, near vibrates in him, but it’s not enough to stop him from noticing how tired you look. He can’t sit. He’s incensed. Feels the rage in his fucking bones and you’re just sitting there with your cigarette in furs your daddy must’ve paid for and expecting him to be reasonable, expecting him to buy any lie you’re selling.
Instead he puts more space between you, fetches his almost empty glass from the counter and the bottle beside it and pours himself another drink– barely a second later he knocks it back.
You cross your legs and gaze out of the window, and after a long, silent moment, you quietly ask– "Why'd you think I left that gap in the door?” Soonyoung scowls but he doesn’t answer. “I wanted you to hear. I wanted to buy you some time while I–”
“Bullshit. You could’ve talked to me!”
“Don’t be naive–” You take a quick drag of your cigarette. “I had to be sure we weren’t being watched.”
“And what of the last eight years?!” he cries, voice cracking. “If you’d told me the damn truth I would’ve understood! I’d have caused no hassle–”
“Don’t speak to me of causing hassle when you’re the one who’s been cheating my father out of his money.” Your lip curls, a bitterness on your tongue. “There was no hassle until you saw fit to take what isn’t yours. This is your doing, Soonyoung, and I’m the one here to fix it.”
And though he scoffs, he’s losing steam. Can’t work out why you’re trying to convince him you’re not here to bring him to meet his maker. What’s the point? Can’t piece together the image of the you that sits here as Sugar’s daughter, and the you that he kisses so sweet whenever he gets the opportunity.
“So tell me,” he says bitterly, pouring himself another glass. “Was I just a job?”
“You think I needed to seduce you to keep tabs on you?” you shoot back. “I could’ve watched you from across the room and learned everything. You were as loyal as me until I came back.”
“Then why would you get involved with me at all?”
“Because I love you, Soonyoung.”
The words hang heavy in the air. He rolls his eyes but fuck, he wants to believe it. You stand, crossing the room slowly to stand on the other side of the counter. You take his glass from his hand and he lets you, watches you swallow it down, the movement in your throat, and the lipstick you leave on the rim.
He shakes his head. “You lied to me.”
You put your hand on the counter, barely an inch from his own. “Yes.”
“About who you are– about why you were there.”
“Yes, I did.”
Each admission is a punch to the gut, and you don’t even try to soften the blow.
“What about Hollywood– was that a lie too?”
A pause, and Soonyoung watches the mask slip– catches a flash of fear in your eyes before you close them. “Yes,” you breathe.
He swallows. “So where were you? Over a year you were gone– were you still in New York, jerking around some other guy running your fathers’ clubs?”
“I was not,” you insist.
“So where?”
“New Jersey.”
Soonyoung’s laugh is loud and sharp. “Jeez. All that time I missed you thinking you were thousands of miles away. You’re unbelievable. A dirty fuckin’ liar.”
“And you’re a thief!” you all but yell, but he shouts over you with a snapped– “You know damn well he was taking too much–
“Oh! Don’t pretend you’re some fucking angel, Soonyoung,” you hiss, cutting him off. “You stole from my father!”
“I stole from a brute!”
The silence almost rings. Wonders if you might slap him across the face before your eyebrows tick up in a sort of amused resignation, and you let out a dark chuckle.
“If he’s a brute, then I’m a brute,” you say.
And he can’t find it in him to agree. Yes. You might be, but he can’t bring himself to say it aloud. After a moment, your hand draws back, and you’re reaching into the lining of your coat. You pull out a revolver, and Soonyoung’s heart thrums in his ears as you set it carefully on the table between you.
“He wants me to kill you, Soonyoung.”
“I figured,” he says hoarsely, mouth going dry. “Been wondering why you haven’t done it already.”
“Well the thing is, baby,” you murmur. “I rather like you alive.”
He looks at the gun. Can’t imagine you using that thing, can’t picture you as the woman he’s heard all those rumours about. That stone cold killer.
“You had me followed.”
“Yes.”
“So you’re handing me over? Having someone else do your dirty work?”
“No, Soonyoung. You’re going to run.”
The certainty in your voice makes him look up.
“Run?” he echoes. “I don’t understand.”
“In a few minutes,” you say, slipping off your coat and tossing it to the armchair behind you. “You’re gonna go downstairs and take that car of mine and drive far far away. Wait til you’re a few states over and sell it. Buy another car somewhere else and keep going. The money you stole, plus a little extra, is on the backseat. It’s enough to get you set up on the west coast. Or in Mexico if you’re smart about it. Personally I’d rather be on the other side of the world.”
Soonyoung lets out a tiny, disbelieving laugh. “I– what?”
“You’re gonna change your name, and then you’re gonna find somewhere to settle down and live an honest life. Keep yourself out of trouble. Start teaching dance, like you always said, maybe? And if you want– if you can forgive me, you can write me–” You reach into your coat again, pulling out a scrap of paper and placing it in front of him. It’s the address to your apartment. “–write me here. They don’t know about this place but don’t sign your name and don’t write anything about our past– just in case. Draw a little star in the corner so I know it’s you.”
You say it so earnestly that Soonyoung can hardly breathe. Feels his heartbeat in his throat and he’s choked with it. You’re helping him? God, he wants it to be true, despite everything.
“I don’t understand,” he says, voice thick. “What about Seungcheol?”
“There’s no need to worry about him,” you explain. “He’s mine. He’ll leave the keys for you on the seat as soon as the lights go out in here.”
He thinks it over. Chews on the fat of his cheek until he can taste metal. And you just stand there, quietly regarding him, and waiting for him to accept that he must mean something to you, for you to go to all this trouble.
“And–” he eventually starts, voice so small. “And what of the gun?”
You smile a little sad.
Oh so gently, you say, “You’re gonna have to shoot me, baby.”
And Soonyoung feels all the blood drain from his face. He– he can’t find the words– just gapes at you like a dolt as you don’t seem affected in the slightest, as if it were a simple conversation about the damn weather.
You push it closer and he stares at it in disbelief. He’s kept a gun behind the bar of The Blue Pearl for eight years and he’s never once had to use it. The thought makes him feel somewhat sick.
“No.”
You huff a small, frustrated breath. “I’m not telling you to kill me. Aim low.” You place your hand on your abdomen, just below your belly button– and Soonyoung can’t imagine it, maiming your body in such a way. “Seungcheol’s right outside to t–”
He shakes his head. “You’re crazy–”
“My father won’t believe I let you get away without a str–”
“This is ridiculous–”
“Soonyoung, please,” you try to reason. “There has to be some ev–”
“No!” Soonyoung grabs for your hand, tightens his fingers around yours, and he catches a flicker of contrition in your eyes at the touch. “I can’t do this!”
“You must!”
“Tell him you killed me!” he begs, almost delirious. Panic is taking grip of his spine, a cold sweat forming on his brow. “Tell him you tossed my body in the river and take the money back. I’ll leave! He need never know!”
“Soonyoung, listen to me!” you snap, eyes hard and resolute. “He’d never believe it without a body. If I were to tell him you were dead without your blood on my hands he’d know in a heartbeat what I feel for you, and then you have no idea what he’d do to us both. You have no idea how cruel he can be. Family means nothing to him without loyalty. You’ve heard the stories about what he did to my mother, don’t think for a second he wouldn’t do that to me too.”
And he hates the way your time together has come to this crashing end. Can’t stand the way you shake his hand off to take the bottle and pour yourself a large glass. You down it quickly, a few drops of liquor spilling from the corners of your mouth, that you brush away with your thumb.
“I can’t hurt you,” he whispers, voice cracking.
“Come on now,” you say firmly. “He’ll forgive me a screw up in letting you take my gun, but he’ll never even try to understand anything e–”
You’re interrupted with a sharp rap at the door and you snatch the gun from the counter, start to raise it toward the door before it’s cracked, and Seungcheol slips inside. He doesn’t acknowledge Soonyoung as he stands tall, hands clasped in front of him as he does at the club, and he says, “You’re taking too long, Miss.”
“I’m aware,” you say, frowning. There’s a resigned look of understanding between you as you hand him the gun. “Soonyoung’s finding it all a little difficult.”
Soonyoung lets out a scornful noise. “Oh, I apologise that I’m not inclined to hurt you for the sake of a lie!”
You place your hand over his, and he can’t bring it in him to snatch it away. Your thumb traces over his knuckles and you smile something pitiful, eyes welling up, and his heart is pounding in his chest. He’s never once seen you cry. You tug his hand up to your lips, press a soft, lingering kiss to his fingers, and under your breath, you murmur, “loving you is the only honest thing I ever did, baby.”
But then your hand slips away, and you turn towards Seungcheol. “Do it.”
And before Soonyoung can process what’s happening, before he can even blink, Seungcheol is raising the gun, and the shot rings in his ears.
Your cracked sob echoes in his skull as you crumple to the floor, and Soonyoung is over you in a heartbeat, your blood coating his trembling hands as he holds you, ugly stains on your silk dress, and all he can hear is useless, panicked whimpers before he realises those pathetic sounds are spilling from his own lips.
“Baby… baby, no–”
“Get out of the way,” Seungcheol grunts, wrenching him off of you. He presses his hands over your belly and pushes down in a way that has you crying out, eyes rolling so far back all he can see is the whites of them. And he knows that this sound, this moment, will stay with him forever.
“You–” you slur, reaching blindly for his hand. You grip him tight, and he finds some small relief in the strength of your fingers, but it’s not enough to make him feel any less hollow. “You need t– ah! Go, Soonyoung. Leave now.”
Seungcheol is lifting you, ignoring the way the movement draws a sharp gasp from your lungs, and your hand slips from his. “I’ve got you, Miss.”
“Where are you taking her?” Soonyoung demands, hysteria clawing at the edges of his vision as he’s losing you, losing everything he’s ever wanted.
“She needs a doctor,” Seungcheol mutters as he makes for the door. “Remember the plan. This is worth nothing if you don’t do as she says.”
Your body sags in his arms as he crosses the threshold, and Soonyoung’s stomach twists sharp. What if the last conversation he has with you was one in which he didn’t tell you how he loves you? What if you die not knowing all he wanted these last eight years was to make you his wife, to take you away from this wretched city and make you happy for the rest of your lives?
“I love you,” he calls urgently, tears spilling down his cheeks, as Seungcheol rushes you out.
And he doesn’t even know if you reply, if you even hear him, because Seungcheol is making down the stairs, and Soonyoung is left alone in his apartment once more, kneeling in a scarlet puddle.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
April 1926
You’ve been back three days before he realises you don’t talk of Hollywood at all.
(Soonyoung’s world has shifted on its axis again, everything slid into view in full colour again as soon as you stepped through the door, and he didn’t care a jot for the glass he dropped on the floor, because you’re back. You were in his arms and you were spinning and laughing and kissing and God, he’s been so breathlessly happy since he saw you again, the first time in over a year.
“Can I come back?” you’d asked. “You’ll have me back here, won’t you?”
He’d tsked at the ridiculous question. “Like there’d be a shadow of a doubt,” he’d said. And you’d smiled, relieved.)
And now it’s well after hours– you’re on the rooftop of The Blue Pearl waiting for the sunrise, a champagne coupe in hand and leaning on the edge of the wall looking out over the city, while a million questions he’d long put to bed rise to the surface. His front presses against your back, arms caging you against the wall, and the familiar scent of your perfume overwhelms him again.
“Why didn’t you write?” Soonyoung asks quietly, when he finally builds up the courage.
The question doesn’t take you aback, and he wonders if you’ve been expecting it. Instead you just sigh, set your coupe on the ledge, and tip your head back against his shoulder.
“I wouldn’t have had a good word to tell you, baby,” you say sadly. “I would’ve come back in a heartbeat if I’d heard from you, and then it’ll have all been for nothing.”
He sits with that for a moment. “So why is it you’re back now?”
“My family wanted me back in the city,” you say, blinking up at the night sky. “And honestly, I just needed any excuse to come back to you. I only wish it were anywhere but here.”
“You missed me?” he whispers, face turned into your hair.
“Every day,” you admit, reaching for his hand and pulling it over your chest. “I missed you all the time.” And he has so many more questions, so many pieces of the puzzle lost, but you’re looking up at the sky and saying– “I looked at these stars every night and kept imagining you were looking too.”
And he did. He stood on this very rooftop and looked up at them fading, as they are now, and wondered where they went. Where do stars like you go in the light of day?
You talk for ages, until the sunrise shines amber between the buildings and you grow hungry and tired. He tells you to wait for him by the door (get your coat on, sweetheart, I’ll just be a minute) and he slips into the office.
He finds an old briefcase in the closet and opens the safe, heart hammering in his throat. He’s never dared before. Mainly because he’s not inclined to steal, but also because he knows what Sugar does to those who do. But all Soonyoung can think of is the look on your face when you spoke earlier, when you said anywhere but here. So he takes some bills and slips them inside the briefcase, and tries not to think of the way Sugar earned his name.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Now October 1926
Your father is incensed. You can tell that much, as your vision fades in and out. You cry out as you hear the crack of the back of his hand across Seungcheol’s face. It’s not his fault, daddy, you try to gasp out in the small respite you get while the doctor eases up on your body, but your father always has needed someone to punish.
At least he believes, you think, letting out a fractured sob as the doctor sinks his fingers into your belly again. At least Soonyoung’ll live.
Stupid of you really, to suggest being shot in the gut, when a leg would’ve probably worked out better. Sure, you might’ve once seen an artery hit there and watched a man’s life slip away within the minute, but bleeding out would’ve been better than the agonising throb of this doctor’s instruments digging around in your belly while someone else, blurry on the sidelines, fumbles his hands while drawing up the morphine.
But you can’t die without knowing if Soonyoung made it out of the city. God, you hope he’s been smart and not wasted time. You can’t die without holding your girl first, who only learned how to say mama last week, much to your husband’s chagrin, but it’s not like you’ve had any inclination to teach her a word unfit for his role in her life.
“You let this happen! You stupid motherfucker,” your father rages, and you hear a dull thud as he strikes Seungcheol again. “Where is he?!”
Gone, you hope. Please be gone.
“Saw him bolting for tenth avenue in her car when I carried her downstairs,” Seungcheol says, voice thick. “He must’ve taken her keys.”
Your father releases him and Seungcheol rags his hand over his face, smearing the blood dripping from his lip down his chin.
“Is she gonna be alright, Jeonghan?”
“We’ll see,” says the doctor, eyes wide and panicked. Jeonghan. You’ve only ever seen him in passing. You feel almost nothing now as your arm falls from the table, swinging down heavy and limp, and this Jeonghan almost looks like an angel, with the stark light in a ring above his head.
Seungcheol has gone ashen with worry, ignores his own bleeding face as he falls backwards against the wall, away from your father, who clenches his fists and growls “Find him!” to the men huddled just outside the door.
Please don’t. Please, God, don’t.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
One Year Later
You get Soonyoung’s– or rather, Hoshi’s first letter, on a Tuesday morning, a star marked in the corner like you asked. It’s nothing much. Just one that wishes you well and asks if you’d like to visit ‘her’ at her new home in San Diego. You press your face into your arms and cry and cry and cry for what feels like a decade. This past year has had a weight on your chest like no other. He’s safe. He’s safe and he wants you to come to him.
You memorise the address and burn the letter, and write back as soon as you can pull yourself together.
Dear Hoshi,
It’s wonderful to hear from you. May I visit now?
Three weeks later, you get his reply. One word. Yes.
By midnight, you’re in the back of your car with your girl sleeping on your lap, somewhere between Pittsburgh and Columbus. Seungcheol is driving. Insists he’s not tired, despite the time, but you’ll make him swap out before the hour is up.
You’d considered not telling him at all, but you love him like a brother, and leaving him confused and hurt after everything he did for you would only break both your hearts. He said he’d always wanted to see the Pacific anyway, and surely there’ll be jobs in California for a guy like him.
Sweet Seungcheol. In truth it’s better he’s with you rather than left to deal with the fallout of your disappearance with your husband and your father. This way, there’ll be no one for them to question, no one who knows a thing about the secrets you share.
And it’s better for you too– if Soonyoung turns you and your girl away, at least you’ll be with someone you know, someone your girl knows as her favourite uncle, and you can find somewhere else to call home together.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
He’s only home from work fifteen minutes before there’s a gentle knock at the door. He checks his reflection in the mirror and smooths back his hair, as he has so illogically done every single time someone’s visited since the day he posted that last letter, as if you could appear on his doorstep in an instant.
And he prepares himself for disappointment as he works to keep his pace even down the hallway, but he can’t stop his heart jumping into his throat.
You turn as he pulls open the door, a smile lighting up your lovely face. You’re unchanged. As radiant as the day he met you, more so in the dappled sunshine. How has it been a decade and this is the first time he’s seen you in the afternoon light?
“Hello, Soonyoung,” you breathe.
The name would feel alien now, coming from anyone else's mouth but yours. God, how he’s missed it. God, how he’s missed you.
You seem a little anxious to draw close, so he makes the decision for you. Wraps his arms around your waist and twirls you tight, wants to hear your sweet laugh before he believes you’re truly here. Wants to feel your body relax against his, wants your kiss on his cheek and your things in his room and–
“Shall we sit outside, Soonyoung?” you say, pushing off him as he sets your feet back down on the deck. “Let’s sit a while.”
And so you take a seat in one of the chairs on the porch, while he fetches water with slices of lemon from the kitchen. Wonders if he should offer you something to eat but doesn’t want to waste time preparing anything right now, so he carries the glasses outside, and passes one to you before sitting in the other chair.
“The weather is… incredible here,” you say quickly. “You can hardly tell it’s almost November.”
You are anxious– he realises, as you thumb away the condensation on your glass and avoid his eye. A year ago his first instinct would’ve been to kiss it away, had he ever seen you like this. Now he keeps his hands to himself, and asks how you’ve been.
“Well,” you say, the tension obvious in your shoulders. You roll them, taking a sip of your water before cradling it in your hands in your lap again. “What about you? What’ve you been doing since you came here?”
And so he talks. Talks of his job– started working in construction just for something to do with his hands, keeps his mind occupied, before he found a place he could teach dancing after work. Runs a class out of the neighbourhood schoolhouse on Wednesday and Saturday evenings. It’s mostly older folk, but they’re sweet to him and he enjoys his time with them.
And you smile, laugh along with the stories he tells you of people like Doris, and Jim who’s wildly in love with her, but your eyes keep flicking away from his, and he wonders at first if you’re struggling, being around him. After a while he notices you’re looking toward the car parked a little ways away, on the corner of the road. There’s a man in the front seat, face obscured by shadow from the tree overhead.
“You come here with someone?” he asks.
A pause. “Seungcheol,” you say. “He’s just making sure I’m safe before he finds us somewhere to stay tonight.”
Soonyoung straightens his spine. “Oh. I see.”
You tut. “Not like that, Soonyoung,” you say softly. “I think of him as my family. He’s done more for you than you could imagine.”
He looks over toward the car again, watches Seungcheol reach into the backseat with what looks like an apple, and a little hand reaches up to take it.
“He has a kid?”
Your eyes dart back to the car, and you suck in a juddered breath. “No. He doesn’t.”
And Soonyoung almost stops breathing. Can feel his pulse go all thready and weak and the air in his lungs thins out.
“Baby, I need to tell you the truth,” you say, turning fully toward him. Soonyoung still watches the car, the way Seungcheol twists his head to smile down at your child, this little thing. “Is that okay? If you want me to leave after, it’s okay, I promise, but I need you to know everything. Can I tell you?”
“I– yeah… yeah you can tell me.”
He almost doesn’t want to hear that you had a child with someone else. And it’s not that he blames you, it’s just that he’s sick with envy. But you’re trying to pull him back to earth, trying to ground him, with your fingers slotting through his and pulling his vision back into focus, with an “okay, okay– Soonyoung– look at me, baby.”
He does, and you smile at him, but he sees the worry in the creases around your eyes and he can’t stand it.
“You remember I lied about Hollywood,” you start. “I was in New Jersey. That’s where she was born.”
“She–“
“Yes, she.” You swallow audibly. “She’s called Hannah.”
Hannah. He likes the name.
“I left, and I got married, and I had my sweet girl, and–”
“You got married,” he interrupts, voice rasping over his drying throat.
Your face cracks. “Yes,” you breathe. “And I wish I could’ve married you instead, baby, I do. But you know my father would’ve never let me marry you, you know that… right? He’d have killed you just for touching me.”
He knows. Doesn’t dull the pang in his chest.
“So I married a man who looks a little like you, and let him think nothing of it when she was born. And she’s so wonderful, Soonyoung. Wild too, I think. Oh! And she loves to dance like you, she does th–”
And his vision swims again, can’t quite comprehend what you’re saying, you’re still talking and he’s only hearing half the words because– because–
He grips your hand tight, steadies himself with the other on the arm of the chair, and stammers, “She’s… is she–”
“She’s yours, baby.” You smile broken, tears spilling down your cheeks and you swipe them away just as quick. “I’m sorry. Soonyoung, I’m so so sorry, I couldn’t– leaving you was the only way I could keep her.”
He stands. Tears his gaze from your face and stares toward the car. Seungcheol is getting out now, and he’s got a tiny fist clasped around his fingers. And all Soonyoung can see is small feet in white shoes and frilled socks hopping along the pavement and he feels the sunlight on his face and your hand in his and something like hope and regret swirling together in his gut. He’s missed so much. You’ve been robbing each other in circles, he thinks. Money and hearts and time, all stolen goods.
“Can I meet her?”
You squeeze his hand. “She won’t understand you’re her daddy, yet.”
He nods, clenching his eyes shut to stop the tears from falling. “I know– I know that.”
“We need to go slow for her,” you say quietly. “If that’s what you want? If you’ll have us?”
And this is something he’s imagined for years. Not just you coming to him, escaping the city and your family, but a white picket fence in the suburbs, you and him together at last, high pitched giggles from children playing in the yard. The promise of an honest life. And it’s so fucking scary, now it’s right within his grasp, but he knows he can’t ruin it with rashly made decisions again.
“I’ll have you,” he says, turning to take your face in his hands. “Of course I’ll have you.”
Kisses you so hard it takes you by surprise before you’re melting into him, wrapping your arms around his waist and kissing him back. You kiss him like you’ve been starving. Slow, and tentative at first, before you’re clutching at him to steady yourself as he pulls you flush against his body. Your mouth is warm and desperate and trembling, and when he finally breaks away it’s only because he has to breathe. You make a soft, admonishing noise as you thumb the tears away from the hollows of his eyes, and he lets out something between a laugh and a sob.
This is where stars go, he thinks, as he hears the clap of his daughter’s shoes on the steps up to his porch. When the night fades, they go out west.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
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SUMMARY: Your nephew won’t stop complaining about his strict superior at work. What you weren’t expecting was that said superior happens to be your hottest hookup, the one you had a one-night stand with. Did you like it? Obviously, yes. But morally? You should’ve buried yourself in dearth at this point.
PAIRING: jeon wonwoo x f!reader
GENRE: drama, comedy, fluff, smut, oneshot
WARNINGS: suggestive content (MDNI), dirty talk, strong language, mildly toxic family (mentioned), one-night stand, attempted quickie, sexual tension, heated kissing, homoerotic cuz i can, dick jokes (im sorry), bantering, arguing (in a fun way), little angst hinted about parents' separation.
WC: 12.5k
ADD TAGS❦︎: cafe owner! reader, pr specialist! wonwoo, kim sunoo as your nephew, wonwoo is a jerk but a hot one, barista! boochan, reader is kind of a fujoshi (this was supposed to be a joke), domestic fluff if you squint, invisible string theory hinted, co-enemies to lovers, they're both idiots, teacher! jeonghan mentioned, i do think i am hilarious, roommate! mingyu, hot n cold dynamic, strangers to lovers, secret relationships, this was probably a bad idea.
a/n: hi. we are sooo back in this diamond crack.
The fact that you’re legally an adult is hysterical. If people asked whether you’re an adult, you’d say “yeah”, but not with confidence or anything.
People always say, “there’s plenty of fish in the sea.” You’ve heard that a ton, but your eyes are fixed on that one specific, emotionally distant salmon commitment issues, mommy issues, and absolutely no idea how to function like a normal human being.
There’s plenty of fish in the sea, but you know what else is there? Trash. There is a lot of trash in the sea. You even switched out your plastic straws for one-hundred per cent plant-based, edible rice straws made from rice, tapioca, and cornstarch. They’re designed to be sustainable, turtle-friendly, and technically safe to eat. It was often described as having a neutral, pasta-like texture. They were a popular eco-friendly alternative to plastic, even though some people complained that they got soggy in drinks.
You like to think that you have saved the turtles. Maybe even the ocean.
Unfortunately, that still doesn’t stop people especially at family gatherings from bringing up marriage every chance they get. You were perfectly fine living like this. You run your own cafe. You’ve got a side hustle as a web novel writer and webcomic creator though of course they don’t know that.
Your single life has been nothing but peaceful. In this century, it’s a choice. But that doesn’t matter when your relatives keep asking when it’ll be your turn, especially at someone else’s wedding. God forbid a woman enjoys her life without a partner.
They love to hint, no—insist that you’ll end up lonely, growing old like some miserable hag.
Puh-lease. You’ll never be intimidated by people with no class. What are they going to do? Gossip about you with their equally insecure, trashy little circle?
You don’t care. You’d rather die than get married. At least you won’t end up as some miserable wife stuck with a douchebag husband and his broken ass.
The only thing that kept you alive and sane was none other than your beloved nephew, your very first one. Oh, the things you would do for him. You still remember the first time you held him, just a newborn, tiny in your arms. That was the moment you became an aunt at the age of seventeen.
Now, he’s all grown up, living like a proper young adult. Still, you can’t help but see him as a kid. Not that you mind, considering you once gaslit eight-year-old Sunoo into believing he was six just so he could get freebies at a diner when you first babysat him.
“You look like you’re about to cry,” you said, wiping a glass as you watched your twenty three-years-old nephew clutch his head, face buried against the counter.
“Give my regards to the devil,” he sighed, rolling his eyes in exhaustion.
“I will.”
Sunoo groaned again, downing another shot of espresso you had made earlier. That was probably his third cup. You gently took it away from him, earning a frown.
“Oh, come on. I didn’t raise you to be a quitter,” you said, sliding a glass of water toward him instead. “I raised a burnt-out perfectionist who occasionally gets bludgeoned into settling for mediocrity.”
Your nephew stared at you incredulously. Sometimes he wondered if he was even related to you. But in the end, he’d take you over his nosy, borderline-stranger aunties who wanted a full autobiography of his achievements. He still didn’t understand why his mom, your sister had trusted you to raise him all these years, well into adulthood.
“Okay, I’ve experienced academic validation, and I’ve experienced academic downfall, and I highly recommend being born into generational wealth—”
“It’s not about that,” he cut you off. “It’s my superior. He’s… I don’t know. Everything about him is just so cranky.”
“What?” You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed as you continued stacking cups. “Is he a bully or something?”
“Not exactly. He’s just… kind of mean. Well—he’s just that good at his job.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“That is the problem,” he confirmed.
He continued, “He’s so good at what he does that it stresses everyone out on the planning team. If something goes wrong, he gets intensely serious about it—like, terrifyingly committed.”
There was a brief silence as you listened to your nephew ramble. This was probably just a moment of weakness. He likely just needed to vent.
“No one likes him,” he scoffed, taking a sip of water. “In fact, I don’t think he likes people at all. He probably hates himself too.”
He sighed again. “I made it through the day without throwing a chair at anyone, but this coffee tastes more bitter than usual.” He clicked his tongue. “Probably because I carried his bitterness all the way here.”
After a moment, you looked up at him.
“Feeling better now?
“Yeah,” he finally exhaled.
You’d think his toxic trait was believing another cup of coffee could solve literally anything. Honestly, you couldn’t tell if he was just being dramatic, but considering this was his second week complaining about his “toxic” workdays, you hoped it was only one insufferable person making him miserable, and not HR tearing him apart. Senior colleagues could be worse. You just hoped he wasn’t being bullied.
You, on the other hand, could drink three cups of coffee and go straight to sleep, one of many things fundamentally wrong with you as a person. In your defense, you buried those bad habits back in university. You’re a changed woman now. At your age, you just wish people would stop asking about your likes and dislikes. It gets old—those endless, generic questions on dates.
You like money and food. You dislike not having money and being hungry.
Please. Don’t add more stress to your life.
Adulting is hard, but it’s okay. At least you don’t need to prove and explain why a triangle is a triangle anymore.
Nobody is busier than someone who isn’t interested in you. And when you say, “I’ll figure it out,” it usually just means you’ll adapt to whatever new level of hell is coming next. You either juggle five tasks at once or stare at a wall, wondering what scene to write for your next update, there is no in-between.
You know you’re hot, but you’re also aware you’re not a full-time hot person. You’re hot when you want to be, depending on the mood. You choose your own hours, make your own schedule. Honestly, it’s freelance hotness.
Just because you live like this doesn’t mean your life is boring. Sure, you’ve had your fair share of hookups—but they’re rare.
Today, however, is different. You went to your usual bar—Velvet Ruby. Mostly because the owner, Jihoon (as you’ve come to learn), is annoyingly attractive. You’re not even utterly shameless at that, the first time you met him (that time you haven’t yet to know he was the owner), throwing flirts here and there, you were tipsy, okay? Still, he finds it amusing despite himself. You usually prefer someone taller than you, but somehow, he still caught your attention.
Tonight, though, you were determined. You wanted a distraction. A release.
The only problem? You’d been sitting there for almost an hour. You were practically waiting for a main character’s entrance, but it seemed the owner had better things to do. Swirling your glass, you watched the wine move lazily inside it, your fingers brushing through your hair as you leaned your cheek against your palm, and then you noticed him.
Sitting right beside you.
You didn’t even try to hide the way your gaze lingered on his side profile. The sharp nose, the way his lips brushed against the rim of his glass as he took a sip of whiskey. His sweater was pushed just enough to reveal his forearms, the fabric stretching slightly. You could tell he was well-built underneath. His veiny hands, steady as he held the glass with ease, a watch sitting perfectly on his wrist.
God.
You really wanted him so bad.
As a matter of fact, you even dressed up for tonight—something chic, something that worked both at your cafe and for this. Chan, one of your employees, kept staring earlier. You didn’t say anything out loud, but you did threaten to cut his pay if he kept slacking off.
You feel sexy today, feel good and confident. There was no way you were wasting this night.
As if sensing your stare, the man suddenly turned toward you. His eyes narrowed slightly, not threatening, just… observant. His gaze lingered, taking you in without shame.
Jackpot.
Honestly, you don’t care. You were convinced you could hold your liquor pretty well, but you only lived once. You didn’t look away. Instead, you offered a soft smile, teasing as you leaned your chin on your palm, crossing your legs.
“Do you know what bees make?” you asked casually.
He raised an eyebrow, clearly making sure you were talking to him. There was a pause before he answered, humoring you.
“Honey?”
You smiled wider. “Yes, dear?”
A soft chuckle left your lips, you were definitely tipsy now. He looked amused, the corner of his mouth lifting as he took another sip, his gaze still on you appreciatively, unhidden.
“Can I buy you a drink?” He asked.
Your lips curved in quiet victory.
Got him.
...
It didn’t take long for the two of you to fall into easy conversation. The small talk here and there, laughter slipping in between. One thing led to another. You have learned that his name is Wonwoo. He mentioned something about work, some company but you barely processed it, too distracted by his deep voice and the way his cologne lingered in the air.
By the time you reached the hotel, neither of you had the patience to pretend otherwise. The door barely closed before he pulled you close again, lips finding yours in a kiss that was far from hesitant. His coat was gone in seconds, yours not long after as you were guided back with your breath catching and thoughts slipping.
His touch was warm, firm, leaving a trail that made it harder to think straight. Your head tilted instinctively, giving him more space, more access, your fingers gripping onto him as the moment blurred into something hazy and overwhelming.
A quiet sound escaped you, your mind already spinning, senses dulled except for him.
You stumbled toward the bed, everything felt so messy and impatient. Both of your clothes were scattered somewhere on the floor. It was clear that you’re both extremely attracted to each other, and you never felt so turned on right now. Maybe it’s been a while since you have felt this good.
Straddling him, you leaned down, kissing him again with intense neediness. Wonwoo grunts into the kiss, chuckling softly against your lips at how impatient you are, clumsily pressing on him. He kisses you back fiercely, his tongue delving into your mouth to stroke along yours, gripping your hips tightly. He grinds up against your core, large hands sliding up your bare back, fingers digging into your soft skin as he pulls you flush against his muscular chest. He didn’t forget to lavish your neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses, teeth grazing your pulse point as he bucks his hips up sharply.
You let out a soft sigh and moan at how intense it feels, catching your breath as your hands come up to grip his soft locks. Your hips instinctively grind on him, rolling your hips down as you feel the thick length of his cock rubbing against your slick folds through the thin fabric of your panties.
A low groan tore from his throat at the feeling, his grip on your hips tightening. He slides his hands down to grip your ass, squeezing the plush globes roughly as he grinds up against you—meeting your slow, sensual movements. “You’re so fucking hot like this, baby.” He murmurs, leaning up to capture your lips in a deep sensual kiss. Drowning in his own needs, he tore your panties away and didn’t hesitate to put the tip of his cock inside your bare cunt.
The sensation itself had left your mouth hanging open, trying to catch yourself at how amazing it feels like. Your grip on him tightened as you slowly sinked yourself down on his dick, mewling at the way he’s stretching you out. “F-fuck—Wonwoo…” you whimper out softly as you started to move your hips.
Wonwoo let out a low guttural moan as your tight walls clenched down around him like vice, gripping his throbbing shaft so deliciously. He literally needed to pause for a moment, savouring the incredible feeling of being fully sheathed inside you before he started to move. “Fuck, baby… so fucking tight.” He murmurs, looking up at you with dark, lust-filled eyes. You start to roll your hips, working yourself on his thick length. “That’s it—just like that… nice and slow.” Hands slide up your sides to cup your breasts, squeezing the soft mounds and kneading the flesh as he watches your face intently. Taking in every little flicker of emotion and pleasure that crosses your features.
He growls, feeling your pussy clench and squeeze around his pistoning length. God, even his voice is so damn hot, your mind was too drowned by how sexy he was until you felt a sharp slap on your ass, making you squeal. “Ride me harder, baby. Fuck yourself on my cock until you can’t take it anymore.” Wonwoo leans up to bite at your neck, sucking a dark hickey into your skin as he feels your movements turning more desperate and needy.
You started to bounce on his cock with increasing fervour, your ass smacking against his balls with each downward grind. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes obscenely in the room, spurring him on to fuck into you even harder and deeper.
Your knees tremble on either side of him, digging the sheet for support. Nails digging further into his shoulders to keep yourself upright. You knew he wouldn’t last much longer, not with the way you’re writhing and mewling so sweetly above him. Your cunt milking his cock for all it’s worth.
And it’s so fucking hot.
Wonwoo slams up into you one last time, burying himself to the hilt as his cock pulses and throbs inside your spasming cunt, throwing his head back with a loud groan rumbling from his chest at his release. You moaned out loud too, mouth hanging as you held him tight. The feeling of his release seems to trigger your own, and you feel your body stiffening beneath him as your climax crashes over you.
With one last shuddering breath, he finally pulled back, taking in your blissed-out expression with a satisfied smirk. He peppered soft kisses across your face, his touch unexpectedly tender after everything that had just happened. You could feel your heartbeat racing, matching his.
“More?” you murmured against his lips, a playful smile tugging at yours.
“Thought so.”
Without warning, he flipped you onto your back against the mattress, earning a small yelp from you followed by breathy laughter as he settled himself between your legs. Your little escapade with him continued into the night. After all, the night was still young.
How to say “I hate you" in a nice way? It’s simple. “You are the Monday of my life.” Seungkwan always bristled whenever you said that, usually while you were asking him to clean the grease. It wasn’t even his turn, which would inevitably lead to him bickering with Chan about whose turn it actually was. At this point, you might as well be your own employee at your own cafe.
But hey, you like to think you’re a good boss.
The older you get, the more you understand why roosters just scream to start the day. Back in college, you used to wake up and sit there, contemplating whether to skip class. Maybe cry a little. Your greatest joy was waking up without the crushing sense of responsibility.
Now? You’ve never felt so good. You were actually… happy.
Even your nephew had asked Chan and Seungkwan why you were in such a good mood today. You were practically glowing.
There was no denying it, that one-night stand with that ridiculously attractive man had put you in an excellent mood. It was a shame you didn’t get his contact, though. When you woke up, tangled in the soft comforter, he was already getting ready to leave. He seemed in a rush. You were far too sore and far too comfortable to chase after him. Too much hassle, you thought.
Like some kind of Cinderella, he disappeared just like that. And honestly? You didn’t think you’d ever experience sex the same way again. Not that you were mad or anything. You hate being mad. It takes you almost two and a half years to calm down.
So for now, it was just you and your coffee beans, trying to figure out whether today was even necessary. According to the weather, though—it was bright and sunny. You greeted your customers with a warm smile (which you rarely did), and for once, everything felt… light.
Sunoo stared at you with concern as he blended the coffee beans beside you. “Did she win the lottery or something?” he whispered, leaning toward Seungkwan.
“I don’t know, kid,” Seungkwan shrugged, not even looking up as he handled the pre-orders. “She’s having one of her episodes. I’m not getting involved.” He paused, then added dryly, “It’s either her inner peace is sponsored by caffeine… or sarcasm.”
Your nephew just shrugged it off, continuing to help with the brewing. “By the way, remember when I told you I’d be having a meeting at your cafe? It’s going to be tomorrow.”
You hummed in response, packing cookies as you glanced up slightly. “Yeah, I remember. The place is spacious enough—you can come by around noon.”
“Great. Then I’ll get going… with my daily intake of coffee, as usual.” He smiled, picking up the book he had tucked under his arm.
You paused briefly. Because that cover looked painfully familiar. That was your work, your webcomic. The one that went viral back when you were in college.
“Where did you get that?” you asked, eyeing the cover before looking up at him, suspicion clear in your expression.
You were pretty sure it was old. There shouldn’t even be active copies of it anymore. You had buried that part of your life a long time ago.
“Oh, this?” he gestured casually. “My team’s working on a big project right now. It’s for a campaign we’re handling.” He took a sip from his drink, completely oblivious to your reaction.
It wasn’t like you were sweating, or panicking.
Or internally screaming.
It was just your own damn book—the one your nephew had no idea existed. You wrote it back in college. It was stupid, honestly, and you weren’t proud of it. You literally wrote about two dudes who were roommates and… well, got very close.
Unfortunately, it went viral back then. You had no idea how it resurfaced now, and frankly, you wanted nothing to do with it.
Sunoo glanced at his phone as he headed for the door. “I’ve gotta go now. Don’t forget about tomorrow! My team and that mean senior will be there too.”
And just like that, he left. Leaving you standing there, wondering what kind of disaster was about to unfold.
...
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Collaboration Inquiry with Carrot Publication.
Hi Belububbles,
I hope this message finds you well. On behalf of my team, our company has previously reached out to your agency regarding a potential collaboration. We were advised to contact you directly; however, we have yet to receive a response to our emails or direct messages.
As this matter is time-sensitive, I would like to request a face-to-face meeting tomorrow at our office, should you be available. Please let us know your availability by today. If we do not hear back from you we will proceed with further steps to move this discussion forward.
Looking forward to hearing from you.
Best regards,
Going Company PR team
+ 82 013-xxx-xxx
You bristled the moment you read the email in your inbox. Just when you were having a perfectly good day, which is ruined. That tone alone was enough to irritate you. Sure, you did ignore unknown callers and random emails. Most of them were spam or obvious scams, and you never bothered checking unless they came through your publication agency.
Still… the audacity.
Come to think of it, Sunoo did mention that his team was dealing with a particulary demanding client. Which probably meant his “superior” had grown a second set of horns by now. You could already imagine someone breathing down his neck, especially with how much he’d been fumbling lately. Not that you could blame him, the expectations sounded ridiculous and apparently, his superior had decided to take it on anyway.
Good thing none of that had anything to do with you.
Honestly, you wouldn’t even be surprised if one day Sunoo quit his job and showed up at your cafe asking for a position. You were short-staffed anyway, it might actually work out.
And now here you are. Standing in front of the Going Company. You had replied to their email yesterday, and they wasted no time contacting you again today. Still, you didn’t appreciate the tone—less of a request, more of a thinly veiled demand.
You rarely made any public appearances for your work. That’s what aliases were for. Working behind the scenes, under your publication agency was exactly how you liked it. You just hoped, really hoped that you wouldn’t run into Sunoo here.
It was a big building after all. Surely, you wouldn’t. Now seated in a waiting room, you crossed your legs
Now seated in a waiting room, you crossed your legs, fingers tapping lightly against your arm. One of the staff had already ushered you in, leaving you alone as you waited for the so-called “representative.” Something about this felt off. And you had a feeling that this meeting was about to get a lot more complicated.
Did you burn your toast today? Nah. That couldn’t be it. But you did burn the cookies. Which meant Seungkwan ended up cleaning the mess after you told him you had an appointment to get to. This is exactly why you have employees. Even if you treat them more like your nieces and nephews despite being around the same age.
The door then opened. Someone had arrived, but of all people you didn’t expect him. You lifted your head lazily, bored and later froze at the sight.
Jeon Wonwoo.
He also stopped mid-step too, one hand still on the chair he was about to pull out, eyes locked on you. Then, slowly he sat down with his hands clasped and composed. Professional. Like nothing had happened. For a second, neither of you moved.
He was dressed in a black turtleneck, lanyard hanging neatly around his neck and glasses. You almost didn’t recognise him at first. He hadn’t worn them the night you met. The two of you just stared for a moment.
Silence filled the air. Awkward and heavy.
Later, you both looked away at the same time, and he cleared his throat. God, you hoped this was just someone who looked like him.
“Belububbles, right?” he began, voice painfully familiar. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. As you’ve probably realized, I’m the one who emailed you.”
Your brows furrowed. So he was the one behind that email.
“I’m Jeon Wonwoo, part of the PR team. I look forward to working with you. Let’s get started.”
Well. Fuck me.
Just your luck. Your one-night stand, your very recent one-night stand was now sitting across from you, acting like a corporate robot.
You offered him a polite smile. Too polite. It didn’t reach your eyes. “Of course. Now, what is it that you’d like to discuss?”
Wonwoo clasped his hands again, diving straight into the explanation, laying out the project, the campaign, the planning. Every detail, every step. Thirty minutes later, he finally finished. He slid a contract across the table toward you. You raised a brow at that. It was all the NDA, policies and terms whatever it was. You hadn’t even agreed yet and they already prepared all this?
Persistent. Just like his email. What kind of passive-aggressive person was this?
“I’m not going to agree to this,” you said with a sigh, placing the document back on the table. “I don’t do public appearances. I thought you already knew that. My agency always consults me first.”
“I’m aware,” he replied smoothly. “That’s why we’re only proposing pre-recorded interviews. No face reveal—just voice, with filters if necessary.”
You were listening. It is intriguing but you need a lot more convincing to do.
“We just want you to participate in our campaign event,” he continued, confidence steady. “We’re gathering artists and writers involved in the project. You’d have your own merchandise, a chance to expand your audience—”
“I don’t really care about that,” you cut in lightly. “But I do like money.”
He blinked. Clearly not expecting that.
“…Right.” He adjusted his glasses. “Then would you reconsider? I’ve read your current work—the one you’re still updating. Wouldn’t you want more people to see it?”
You leaned back slightly, thinking. “I’ve considered it. But I don’t want the kind of exposure that comes with it. People dig. I value my privacy. And I have a real-life job too. A big one.”
He exhaled slooowly, clearly trying to stay patient. “What about physical sales?” he pressed. “Printed copies. You mentioned profit—this is an opportunity to maximize that.”
You wave your hand dismissively. “I’ve had enough of that. My agency handles most of it anyway.”
Honestly, you didn’t need them. You had your own ways, holding out your own event, your own marketing. You knew what you were doing.
Wonwoo momentarily paused. Finally, he tried again. “What do you want?”
You met his gaze. He was stubborn as hell. You hadn’t even planned to negotiate. You just came here to make one thing clear. You weren’t interested at all. With a quiet exhale, you stood up. “Mr. Jeon,” you said, already reaching for your bag, “I came all the way here to inform you that I’m not interested. Also, your email? That sounded more like a threat than a request.” You turned toward the door. “Have a great day.”
“I’m trying to be nice here,” his voice cut in, sharper now, “but you’re making my job difficult.” His voice made you pause as he stood up. “You don’t want fame, money—whatever it is. People like you are always so demanding, and yet here you are—”
You turned your back slowly. His gaze locked onto yours.
“…Though I didn’t expect it to be you,” he added, voice dropping slightly. “Not only are you a brat in bed, but apparently in general too.”
Ah.
There it was.
You smiled sweetly, stepping dangerously closer. “Why?” you tilted your head. “Was audacity on sale this year?” He scoffed quietly at that.
“Listen,” you added, voice light, “acting like a dick doesn’t make yours bigger.” you paused. “…Though, unfortunately, in your case—”
Except that he is.
His eyes narrowed, a low, sardonic chuckle slipping out. “You already know what I’m like,” he said. “Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it.”
You glared at him. He didn’t back down either. The silence stretched, until you broke it with a frustrated groan.
“Yeah. I’m leaving,” you muttered, turning back to the door. Then you stopped mid-step, glancing over your shoulder. “For the record?” you added flatly, “It was good dick.” A beat. “But it was a one-time thing. I wouldn’t survive with a dickhead personality like yours.”
You pulled the door open. “It was terrible to meet you, by the way.”
And then you left. Leaving him standing there, rendered speechless, and completely thrown off. You refused to let anyone ruin your day. So, you naturally decided that you did it yourself.
…
Your mood stayed soured the entire day after that meeting with your stupidly, insufferable, annoying, dickhead one-night stand. Chan and Seungkwan exchanged a look the moment you walked in. They were very aware of your mood swing, and very determined not to become your next victims. It was fine, though. They were used to it.
Chan tried first. “You look extra pretty today.”
“I’m not raising your pay. Go to work.” you said flatly, not even looking up as you handled the cashier.
“Alright,” he nodded, but lingered for a second. “I mean it, though. You’re really pretty today.”
You hummed, then lifted your head slightly. “…You know what? Hell yeah. I am pretty. Being frowny doesn’t make me ugly—it makes me extra hot pretty.”
Seungkwan and Chan exchanged another look again. Seungkwan shook his head and went back to restocking the pastries.
Ah.
Very normal.
A little while later, Sunoo walked in with his planning team. Just like he mentioned yesterday. You flashed them a bright smile as they approached the counter.
“These are my colleagues,” Sunoo introduced casually. “And this is my aunt. No weird comments.”
“Hello, it’s lovely to meet you all.” you greeted warmly, slipping into your customer-service persona. “Thank you for taking care of my nephew.”
They greeted you back, placing their orders before heading off to their reserved table. Then, two guys lingered. Both are a couple inches taller than Sunoo, one with a sharp jawline, the other with pale skin and mischievous grin.
The pale one smiled a little too confidently. “Hi. You’re really beautiful. Are you single?”
You blinked, then let out a soft chuckle. “Oh—I mean… depends on the day, and fortunately today is a yes.”
Sunghoon and Jongseong snickered, nudging each other, while Sunoo rolled his eyes so hard it was practically audible. He hated when people did this, especially his own friends.
“Yeaahhh, we’re done here,” Sunoo cut in quickly. “Three iced americanos.” He dragged them away before they could say anything else.
You just watched them go, already ringing up the order. Just as you were about to take the next customer, a deep voice spoke.
“I’d like to pay for their order, and one iced cafe latte.” You didn’t even look up at the person.
“Okay, that would be—” as your eyes finally met with the face, and about to take his card. You immediately screamed. Like you had just seen a cockroach. Hands flew to your mouth, eyes wide in pure horror.
The entire cafe went silent. Heads turned at the scene. Seungkwan and Chan snapped their attention toward you. Wonwoo, just stood there—card still in hand, eyes slightly widened in confusion.
Meanwhile, from across the cafe, Jongseong leaned toward Sunoo and whispered. “Man, I knew Mr. Jeon could be intimidating, but I didn’t think he was that scary. Your aunt looks traumatised.”
You still didn’t move. Didn’t even blink or breathe. Seungkwan slowly walked over, glanced between you and Wonwoo. He immediately took over, seeing that you remained unmoved. “Thank you,” he said smoothly, taking the card and finishing the transaction.
Wonwoo didn’t say anything. He just kept staring at you oddly, and suspiciously. He finally turned and walked straight towards Sunoo. Your eyes followed him. And landed right on your nephew’s table. On his team. He was sitting at the centre like he owned the place.
Oh no.
What the hell.
That was the “mean” superior he’d been talking about?
Sunoo cannot know. He absolutely cannot know about your side hustle. And definitely not about that night. Your nephew had no idea that you and his senior had met not just this morning, but very, very personally before that. He had no idea you and his senior had jumped each other like a trampoline in a hotel room.
You only stood there, frozen. Completely mortified at how insanely small the world was. You could’ve slept with anyone, but certainly not this. Not only did you sleep with him, you also argued with him like cats and dogs this morning.
Great. How amazing.
You wanted nothing more than to dig yourself a grave and lie in it. You could scream or maybe cry a little. You know that feeling when you meet someone and your heart skips a beat? Yeah. That’s arrhythmia. You could literally die from that. From the very first moment you laid your eyes upon him, you knew that you wanted to spend the rest of your life AVOIDING him.
Seungkwan calmly stacked cups while you crouched behind the counter like a fugitive. “You know,” he started casually, “when I used to work at a corporation, I learned a very professional way to say things.” You didn’t even look up. “I’m assuming something bad happened between you and that mean-looking guy over there,” he added, jerking his chin toward Wonwoo’s table.
“I wasn’t.” you sneered.
“It is,” he corrected immediately, like he already knew, and annoyingly, he did. “This was identified early on as a likely outcome.”
“What does that even mean?” Chan popped his head out from the back.
Seungkwan didn’t miss a beat. “It means ‘I told you’ but professionally.”
You abruptly stood up, pretending to busy yourself while sneaking a glance at their table. Wonwoo was speaking behind his laptop, the rest of the team listening intently. Right on fucking cue, his eyes met yours and stayed there. Your gaze hardened, sending him a very clear message, close to a warning or threat. What the fuck are you doing here? Wonwoo merely tilted his head slightly toward his team and mouthed a simple, “Work.”
Oh, he was hilarious. Strangely calm too. Like he was used to handling crises like this. Before your silent rentless fuck you exchanged could continue, you saw Sunoo heading toward you. Instantly, you plastered on a smile. A little too wide.
Your nephew grabbed your arm. “What was that?” he hissed, glancing between you and his table. “Did you really have to scream in his face? I already feel like my soul leaves my body every time he looks at me—if he asks why my aunt is acting like a lunatic, I’m done for.”
You frowned, whisper-yelling back like you were negotiating something illegal. “That was a reflex. He looked too much like my ex.” You blatantly lied, as if you never do that with your nephew through the years of babysitting him.
Sunoo scoffed, grabbing a couple of water bottles. “Yeah, right. You’ve been saying that since I was six. Please don’t embarrass me. For the love of God.” And just like that, he walked back to his meeting.
You exhaled sharply. So much for easy-peasy lemon squeezy. This was more like stressy, depressy, lemon fucking zesty. Life didn’t hand you lemons. It handed you a caffeine addiction, trust issues and zero patience for dickheads like Wonwoo.
So when you noticed him heading toward the restroom, you followed after him. A moment later, he was at the sink, rinsing his hands. He turned around until he was immediately met with you slamming your hand against the tiled wall beside him. He paused, slightly caught off guard. Despite being taller than you, it seems like your anger towards him was taller.
“Did it hurt,” you said sweetly, a sharp smile on your lips, “when you fell out of someone’s asshole and into toilet water, you piece of shit?”
Wonwoo didn’t even flinch. By now, he seemed immune to it. “Not really,” he replied calmly, crossing his arms, “but I know shit when I see one.”
You groaned under your breath, pacing slightly. God, he was insufferable. “Did it have to be my cafe?” you snapped. “Seeing you this morning was already bad enough, and now you just show up here too?”
“I didn’t choose the location,” he said simply. Then, after a beat, “Though now that I think about it… I didn’t know that ray of sunshine was your nephew.” He let out a dry chuckle, stepping a little closer. “It’s ironic, really.”
You shot him a glare sharp enough to cut glass. “Well, it’s nice to finally meet the devil everyone’s been talking about,” you shot back. “Didn’t realise it was someone that I used to suck his dick—”
You stopped yourself. Barely.
Wonwoo stiffened slightly, adjusting his glasses. Yeah, that landed. You were not sure if he was taken aback by being a worse senior colleague, or that part when you mentioned of sucking his stupid dick.
He clicked his tongue, gaze steady. “Do I look like someone who goes around flaunting his sex life? Exactly. No way in hell.” You didn’t answer. He stepped closer again, voice lowering. “If you agree to the proposal from this morning, I’ll agree to keep things… civil between us.” Then he stepped back, giving you space.
Silence fell. You studied him for a moment. However, he didn’t look like he was hiding anything. Just a straightforward goal. He gives off that impression of a guy that has no time for relationships, probably terrible at it. A stubborn, workaholic guy with a nasty temper. Possibly hates himself a little.
Not that you were one to judge. You weren’t exactly easy either. Honestly, you didn’t care about him but your nephew? That was a different story. If Sunoo found out—if he ever found out there was no doubt he’d snitch to your sister. You’ll be dead for sure.
You exhaled slowly, reluctantly even. “...Fine,” you muttered.
Life is like a helicopter sometimes. To begin with, you don’t even know how to operate one. One could argue that you're one step closer to death than to having a stable relationship. Some people belong to the streets, but you’d like to think that you belong to the ponds because you’re just a silly goose.
At this point, you don’t think coffee even wakes you up anymore. You just like the idea of having coffee. That is, until someone had abused your apartment doorbell. At this rate, they might as well have broken it and got arrested for it. This place isn’t cheap, you paid a ridiculous amount of money to live here.
Grudgingly, you swing the door open and there he is. Wonwoo, looking completely unimpressed as he casually steps inside like he owns the place. Meanwhile, you’re standing there in your tousled hair and beluga-pattern pajamas.
“I called you multiple times. You didn’t answer,” he said, crossing his arms, eyeing your outfit. “Did you get my text and throw your phone into the Pacific Ocean?”
You let out a scoff, already walking back to your bedroom, which of course he followed. “I was busy. Why are you even here?” you muttered, flopping back onto your bed.
“Busy doing what?” he shot back dryly. “Sleeping at noon?”
“I can be in bed and still be busy,” you mumbled into your blanket. “Busy gathering my strength.”
Wonwoo stared at you incredulously. For a second, it genuinely looked like he was trying not to slam his head into the nearest wall.
“How’s the progress?” he asked instead.
You didn’t answer immediately. Just hummed in against the comforter.
He rolled his eyes, exhaling sharply then pulled— no, he freaking suddenly yanked the blanket off you. The cold air hit instantly.
“Okay—what is wrong with you, you psycho?” you snapped, sitting up and glaring at him. “First of all, get out of my room. Second, get out of my house.”
Before he could lunge forward at you, ready to claw his paw at you. Your phone buzzed, signing as you answered without even checking the caller ID.
“I’m heading to your place now,” Sunoo’s voice came through. “I don’t feel like eating cafeteria food—”
Your eyes snapped wide open. “Right now?” you blurted, panic immediately setting in. Wonwoo watched you as you scrambled out of bed, suddenly moving like a hurricane.
Oh, hell no.
Sunoo cannot see him here. Not in your apartment, your room. Just anywhere to be honest. You tried to grab clothes, then froze because this jerk was still here. “Shit—okay, you can’t be here,” you grabbed his arm, pulling him toward the door. “My nephew is on his way.”
“What—” Before he could finish, you shoved him out of your room, but the front door unlocked.
Without thinking, you pushed Wonwoo right back into your room and slammed the door shut. Perfect timing. You turned around just as Sunoo walked in and flawlessly smiled.
“Why are you still wearing that at your age?” he said immediately, eyeing your pyjamas.
You ignored that. He walked straight to the kitchen, already opening the fridge, while you trailed behind him. Your eyes dart back toward your bedroom door every two seconds.
“You could’ve asked Seungkwan or Chan to bring you food,” you said, leaning against the counter. “Didn’t your mom give you side dishes?”
“She did,” he replied, rummaging through your fridge. “But my roommate ate everything.”
You scoffed. “Just take what you need and go.”
“Why? Do you have a special somebody over?”
Rolling your eyes, you agreed anyway, “Yes, me. I’m amazing and I enjoy my own company.”
Sunoo stared at you for a second. “...Then explain why there are men’s leather shoes at the entrance.”
You momentarily froze at that. How did you fucking forget about it?
Before he could say anything else, you snatched the container from his hands, shoved food into a bag, and pushed it into his chest.
“Okay—out,” you said, dragging him to the door.
“What about—" The door shut in his face. You exhaled in relief, leaning your forehead against the door and turned to see Wonwoo was already out of your room.
“Is he gone?” he asked, peeking out.
“Yeah. Thank God he didn’t ask more questions,” you muttered, rubbing your face. “How did you even get my address?”
“Your agency.”
You groaned, pacing around again.
“Look, I don’t hate you,” he said after a pause, “I’m just not particularly excited about your existence in my life.”
Turning to shoot another nasty glare, you start. “Put yourself in my shoes, idiot. I wouldn’t care if you got hit with—”
“I wouldn’t wear those shoes if I were you.”
You were utterly speechless at the sheer amount of cockiness this guy had. Whenever he was around, you had the overwhelming urge to claw at him like a cat whose tail had just been stepped on.
“I know, why not ask yourself,” you snapped. “Is my dick big enough to match your attitude?" His brows furrowed at that. “Exactly!” You clapped once.
Aaaand just like that, you were arguing again with him. Neither of you noticed the door opening. Sunoo stepped inside and froze. His gaze moved from you then to Wonwoo.
Back to you, then to Wonwoo again.
Wonwoo was the first to notice. You followed his gaze and stopped. There was a thick, almost heavy silence that filled the atmosphere.
“…Hate that you had to find out like this,” you said slowly.
Sunoo blinked, stepping back slowly. “…Okay,” he said carefully, already putting his shoes back on. “I didn’t know you two were… dating.”
Dating.
Dating???
He gave a small, polite bow. Probably directed to Wonwoo. “Goodbye, Mr. Jeon. I’ll see you after lunch.”
The door closed later. And you just stood there, still processing everything that happened. Your nephew now thinks you’re dating the biggest man of shit in your life. You might actually need to fake your death this time.
...
“I think I’m forgetting something.”
“Morals, probably?” Wonwoo said without even looking up from his tablet.
“No, it’s something important,” you insisted, about to rise from your seat. “I think I need to go back to the cafe before Chan sets the place on fire.”
Wonwoo’s head snapped up. “Wait—no. Sit down. We just got here… oh my God.” He dragged a hand down his face beneath his glasses. “For the love of God, can you sit still for one moment? It took almost two hours to get you here, and I already helped drop your twins off at school.”
You sat back down reluctantly. “How long is this interview going to take?”
“Depends,” he replied dryly. “If you decide to be difficult, probably more than thirty minutes, and I’ll have to work overtime.”
“I can’t do that,” you shot back. “I have to attend the twin’s family day. Their dad bailed at the last minute.”
He sighed again, looking seconds away from tearing his hair out. Mostly because you had completely missed the sarcasm.
“Nevermind. Let’s just start.”
He set the voice recorder on his phone and straightened in his chair. “First of all, thank you very much for agreeing to work with us. We’re very delighted.”
“Thank you. It’s my pleasure too,” you answered flawlessly.
“How did you decide to create such interesting characters in most of your stories?”
You thought for a moment. “I honestly didn’t think too deeply about it. I started writing back in college. I met a lot of different people, so I borrowed certain traits here and there.”
“What made you shift from writing novels to illustrating them?”
“I had a lot of free time back then, and writing gave me plenty of ideas. I knew readers enjoyed the stories too. I didn’t want to stop writing, so instead I adapted them into manhwa so readers could visualize them.”
Wonwoo typed something down before continuing. “On a different note—do you wish to publish another novel one day?”
You crossed your arms, considering it. “I don’t think so. I already have too much on my plate, and illustrating takes time. Maybe after I finish my current project, I’ll think about writing again.”
“How did you feel when you learned your first work, And They Were Roommates, rose in sales again?”
You stiffened slightly. “Uh… well, I didn’t expect it to go viral again this year. I guess I was delighted? It was unexpected, but I received a lot of positive feedback too.”
Wonwoo nodded and flipped to the next page. “This is a special question from your readers. How did you come up with so many hilarious dialogues? They found the comedy really engaging.”
“Ah.” You visibly relaxed. “At first, I never meant for it to become a comedy. I just like writing characters who are witty, so I guess readers found that funny.”
“I can see that,” he said, then continued. “Another fan question: did you base your character’s personalities on real people?”
You made a face. “Well… they’re not wrong. I’ve met my fair share of terrible people and let too many assholes into my life. Real-life suffering became entertainment.”
His eyes narrowed. “Language.”
“What? I speak nothing but the truth.”
He only shook his head. “We’re getting nowhere if you keep doing this. I’ve done some self-reflection—if you cooperate, this can end faster.”
“Oh, so you did have a talk with your dick last night?”
Wonwoo immediately paused the recording and stared at you with a long, exhausted sigh. “Can we put that aside? And no, I did not talk to my dick.”
You crossed your arms. “Fine. Next question.”
He resumed recording. “Another fan question: how did you come up with such funny dialogue and plots?”
“Actually,” you said, “I’m not that funny. I think I’m just an asshole, and people assume I’m joking. That’s how I ended up making rude characters everyone somehow loves.”
He paused the recording again. “Would it kill you to give me one normal answer?”
“What? That is my honest answer.”
“It’s not appropriate for the media.”
“Then make it appropriate. That’s literally your job.”
Yeah. The two of you were getting absolutely nowhere.
After the interview, Wonwoo somehow found himself babysitting your niece and nephew, the twins, who were now sprinting around his office. He needed a bucket of caffeine, a fever patch, and divine intervention. Not because of the kids, because you had very clearly dumped them on him like he was a free daycare service.
“What’chu doin’?” Wonhee asked, propping her chin on his forearm while he typed.
“Work,” he answered flatly.
“Oooo. About what?”
“Work.”
“What kind of work?” Wonjun asked this time.
“Work,” he repeated.
“I want Auntie’s cheesecake after this!” Wonhee cheered, bouncing excitedly before both twins ran circles around his desk.
God, just kill me. He was screaming internally.
A knock came at the door. It opened to reveal Sunoo, holding finalized planning documents. Wonwoo nearly saw heaven.
“Sunoo!” the twins yelled in unison, rushing him immediately.
“Sorry, guys, I’m at work right now, so I can’t play,” he said, patting their head before looking back at his superior. “Yeahhhh… I actually have plans with the team after this,” Sunoo added awkwardly, already stepping backward.
Even Sunoo knew better than to get involved. He quickly shut the door. Wonwoo turned back to his computer and resumed typing aggressively.
“Uncle Won. Uncle Won. Uncle Won,” Wonjun repeated, tugging at his sleeve.
“What?” he replied flatly, eyes still on the screen.
“I need to go potty.”
Wonwoo finally looked down.
“Now?” The boy nodded desperately.
“If you don’t take him now, he’ll tinkle in his pants,” Wonhee informed him with complete sincerity.
Wonwoo muttered something under his breath, then immediately scooped the boy up and marched out of the office.
The entire team watched in stunned silence. From across the room, Jongseong leaned toward Sunoo. “I think you’re getting another playmate soon, dude.”
Sunoo scoffed, scowling as he scrolled through his laptop. “Stop that. It’s not funny. I don’t care. Even if they break up, I still lose.” He pointed dramatically in each direction. “They break up—I still have to see his face at work. They stay together—I still have to see his face at work.” He slumped in defeat, “My life has no winning route.”
...
“Baby.”
Wonwoo looked at you as the twins zoomed around your cafe, clearly bothering your two staff members.
“What?” you shrugged. “You want me to call you fellow associate instead?”
He was one step away from crashing out. First, you made his work life hell. Second, you had dropped the twins off at his office not once, not twice, but three times. Wonwoo was good at his job. Great, even. Then when you walked into his life. The tragedy followed.
“Aunty! Aunty!” Wonhee bounced on her feet, reaching up. You picked her up easily. “Tomorrow I have a soccer match! Teacher Yoon said we can bring our parents!”
“But Papa said he can’t come,” Wonjun huffed, stomping lightly. “Something about work.”
Your heart softened instantly. Your brother was busy running his law firm, and even though he and his ex-wife were divorced, they were still co-parenting well. With their busy lives, complicated timing—that was all.
“Oh, alright then. I’ll go,” you said, giving in easily.
“That’s unfair—I wanna see them play!” Seungkwan popped up from behind the counter.
“Wait—count me in!” Chan added.
You rolled your eyes, setting Wonhee down and placing your hands on your hips.
“No. I need both of you to take care of the café while I’m gone. And Chan, I know you’re just using that as an excuse to slack off.”
Chan dropped the cloth dramatically onto the counter. “Aw, man.”
“Will Uncle Won come too?” Wonjun asked, clinging to Wonwoo’s leg and staring up at him with wide, hopeful eyes.
Wonwoo stiffened, his gaze flicked to you. You smiled in return, a little crooked and suspiciously sweet.
“Umm… he’s kinda busy,” you said, brushing imaginary dust off your shoulder. “He has a big adult job. He might not make it.”
Both twins immediately started whining loudly. For a second, you remembered just how insufferable they could be. The last time you babysat them, they threw a full-blown tantrum over Haribo marshmallow chocolate.
“Okay, stop,” you deadpanned, staring at Wonjun, who had dramatically sprawled onto the floor. “You don’t demand things from someone you barely know. Show some respect to your elders. And get off the floor—it’s dirty.”
“I just mopped that,” Chan added.
You ignored him.
“You and Papa always say the same thing!” Wonjun protested, sitting up. “He says, ‘respect your elders,’ but he never comes to my singing or storytelling!”
…Ouch.
“Yeah!” Wonhee chimed in. “Papa says stuff like that because he’s old and forgetful. Aunty, you’re becoming like Grandpa too.”
“Hey now,” you crossed your arms. “If anything, I’m better.”
Wonwoo nearly rolled his eyes. Wonhee suddenly turned to him, already halfway climbing into his arms. “Uncle Won, please come! I want to show you my super cool kick!”
He froze completely. He looked at her, then at you and then back at her. He said nothing. Mostly because he knew what would happen if he refused. Flashback from his office with all the screaming, he was sure people from the outside could heard that loud and clear.
You caught his eye and subtly shook your head.
Don’t. Encourage. Them.
“Aunty,” Wonjun said suddenly, frowning, “why don’t you want Uncle Won around? It’s like Mama and Papa.”
Your expression faltered. “…Hey. I’m nothing like them,” you said, quieter this time.
That one hit a little too close. You sighed, then reached out and ruffled his hair.
“Fine. We’ll see tomorrow. If we can make it.”
That was enough to make the twins lit up instantly.
From across the cafe, three figures watched the entire scene unfold like a live drama. Seungkwan leaned on the counter. Chan mirrored him. Sunoo stood between them, looking deeply troubled.
“I don’t like where this is going,” Sunoo muttered.
Seungkwan shook his head. “No, no—let them keep going. This is good.”
Sunoo turned to him slowly. “…Good?”
“Would you rather they take their frustration out on us?” Seungkwan pointed out.
Chan nodded immediately. “Fair. Also, there’s a chance our boss might raise our pay if she’s in a good mood.”
He clasped his hands together dramatically. “I will pray for that. I refuse to suffer in a cafe with emotional damage and no bonus.”
Sunoo stared at both of them. “…Yeah. That checks out.”
The exhibition was going well so far. Wonwoo liked to think all his hard work had finally paid off. Unfortunately, he had forgotten one thing.
You.
Your mere presence alone was enough to test the last thread of his patience. He just needed to keep his shit together for one day. Just this once.
“You didn’t wear your glasses today,” you remarked, openly scanning him from head to toe, and annoyingly enough, he looked devastatingly handsome. If only he kept his mouth shut. “You’ve stared enough, perhaps?”
His head snapped toward you, brows knitting together. “It’s nine in the morning,” he hissed. “Stop fucking testing me.”
“Ah, ah,” you interrupted, waving your VIP lanyard around obnoxiously. “I’m the important guest here.”
“I should’ve thrown fertilizer at you so you could grow the hell up,” he muttered, trying very hard to remain professional.
“Oh yeah?” You scoffed. “Sometimes I wish I were an octopus so I could slap you with all eight tentacles at once.”
He already looked tired. You continued anyway.
“Actually, maybe I’d use them to peg you down so you’d finally learn how to bow your head.”
Wonwoo blinked, once then twice. He genuinely didn’t know how to respond to that. So he just stared at you in silence, expression unreadable, wondering how you always managed to hit new levels of insanity before ten in the morning.
Right on cue, another familiar figure approached.
“Hey, Wonwoo—oh.”
The man halted when his eyes landed on you. “I didn’t know you were here,” he grinned brightly. “It’s been forever.”
It was Mingyu.
You froze.
Oh, for the love of God.
“O-oh… yeah. Haha.” Your laugh sounded faker than the fake Chanel bag you once bought online. “What an… unexpected reunion.”
Mingyu had been your junior back in college. And unfortunately, very unfortunately—your old BL series was heavily inspired by him. Mostly because he never shut up about his roommate constantly invading his personal space. At the time, you were just a broke college student trying to survive. You never expected And They Were Roommates to blow up the way it did.
People would read shit anything.
Mingyu casually slung an arm around Wonwoo’s shoulder. Wonwoo, meanwhile, looked between the two of you suspiciously. He did not like where this was going.
“I work here,” Mingyu explained cheerfully. “Different department though. Remember that roommate I used to complain about all the time?”
He pointed directly at Wonwoo. “Yeah. It’s this guy.”
Your smile twitched violently.
Oh.
Oh, this was bad.
Out of all people, the world really was disgustingly small.
“Real question is,” Mingyu continued, narrowing his eyes playfully at you, “why are you here?”
You absolutely could not tell him you were the main guest of the entire event. So instead, you smoothly covered your VIP pass with your hand and flashed a dazzling smile.
“Oh, you know…”
Before your brain could stop you, you looped your arm through Wonwoo’s.
“Unfortunately,” you sighed dramatically, “for someone who treats life like a joke, I’m being serious this time.”
Mingyu looked unconvinced, very unconvinced. He glanced between the two of you like he was trying to solve a math equation with missing numbers. To him, this pairing made absolutely no sense. You, whose personality is like a hurricane, and Wonwoo—who somehow managed to be equally unbearable in a completely different flavor.
Birds of a feather really did flock together.
“…Good for you guys?” Mingyu finally said slowly. “I mean… wow. Match made in heaven.”
The way he said it sounded less like support and more like disbelief.
Before he could ask more questions, you immediately cut in.
“I’d love to continue this questionnaire, Gyu, but Wonwoo and I have somewhere to be.”
You tugged Wonwoo’s arm tighter. “Right, baby?”
“No? What are you—”
“Oh yes, you do, baby,” you cut him off sweetly, already dragging him away. “I know you can’t wait to see the twins.”
With that, you escaped while Mingyu simply stood there, watching the two of you disappear into the crowd. Hands shoved into his pockets, head tilted slightly, he frowned to himself.
How the hell did that happen? Because as far as he knew, both of you were disasters individually.
...
Here you were, sitting beside Wonwoo while watching the twins’ soccer match. Honestly, he didn’t know how he ended up tangled in all of this. Not once or twice, but somehow—every single time he crossed paths with you, his life became increasingly complicated.
At first, he told himself it was only because of the contract, mainly because of work.That staying close to you made things easier professionally. But somewhere along the way, the lines blurred.
Your routines somehow became his problems too, and the worst part? He could’ve said no at any point. So why the hell was he still here?
You nudged his arm excitedly while cheering for the twins. “Take pictures,” you whispered. “They’re gonna ask for them later.”
Wonwoo blinked before adjusting the camera lens in his hands and taking several shots without complaint.
At this point, he was more involved than the twins’ actual parents.
“You could at least smile or look excited,” you sighed, finally turning to face him.
The lively noise of families and cheering echoed around the field.
“You look like a robot. What if the twins notice?”
He lowered the camera slowly and looked at you instead. He stared at you with silence, and blank-faced as always.
You narrowed your eyes. “Do you need smiling lessons?”
You turned toward him properly, using your fingers to demonstrate. “Okay, look. Make your eyes curve like little shrimp—then lift your cheeks up like this—and…”
Grinning brightly, you continued, “S.M.I.L.E.”
For a moment, Wonwoo just stared at you, quietly. The noise around him faded into the background. The wind brushed past gently, making strands of your hair sway under the sunlight in a way that almost looked unreal.
His chest flutters at the sight. It felt oddly similar to the tiny happiness of a stray cat approaching him first, or when his favorite buldak noodles were finally restocked after disappearing for weeks.
It was small and unexpected, but enough to steal his breath away. Wonwoo immediately buried the feeling before it could settle deeper. He cleared his throat, looking away quickly and lifting the camera back toward the field.
You, completely oblivious, muttered under your breath.
“Jerk.”
Then immediately went back to loudly cheering for the twins.
...
By the time all of you arrived back at your place, Wonwoo was carrying your niece while you carried your nephew, both twins completely passed out after dinner with your parents.
At this point, he was involved way too deeply in your family functions.
What made it worse was the fact that your parents didn’t even seem surprised by his presence anymore. It was almost like they had already accepted him and had simply been waiting for the day you finally brought a man home.
Honestly, they probably saw him more often than some actual relatives. He still remembered how your mother kept asking when you were going to get married. And knowing you, of course you only gave half-assed answers.
It reminded him of Mingyu’s grandfather, whose dementia was apparently so bad that he kept asking whether his cousins had jobs.
Ten times.
And ten times, they had to admit they were still unemployed. Honestly, Wonwoo didn’t even think it was dementia anymore. The old man was probably just in disbelief that they were still jobless.
The twins were quickly settled into their room, exhausted after burning through all their energy earlier. You let out a long sigh, stretching your limbs—only to find Wonwoo sprawled across your sofa like a man who had already given up on life.
“Go sleep at your own place, dude.”
“I’m too tired to drive anymore.”
“Not on my sofa.”
His eyes cracked open immediately.
“Let a man rest, would you?” he groaned dramatically, sinking deeper into the cushions.
“Ooookay,” you dragged out teasingly, already walking toward your room. “I was just wondering if you wanted to join me.”
You paused by the doorway and peeked back at him.
“…In my bed.”
Wonwoo sat up instantly. His interest was fully restored.
“You’re messing with me.”
“Yeah,” you answered easily. “I’m fucking with you.”
You casually started unbuttoning your blouse, shrugging it off your shoulders and letting it fall carelessly onto the floor.
Wonwoo’s gaze lingered on your bare shoulders. The loose strap of your camisole slipping against your skin. The atmosphere shifted almost immediately. You disappeared into your attached bathroom, beginning to remove your makeup.
“Don’t joke around like that,” he muttered from behind you.
Before you could react, his arms wrapped around your waist as he buried his face against your neck, breathing you in.
“I survived your family all day. I deserve proper compensation.”
A soft laugh escaped you as you tossed the makeup wipe into the bin.
“Sleep outside. I’m keeping the bed to myself.”
Wonwoo groaned against your skin, lips brushing along your neck before trailing to your shoulder.
“Seducing me like this isn’t going to work,” you teased, nudging him lightly with your hip while watching him through the mirror.
“Then I’ll make it work,” he murmured.
He nipped lightly at your ear while kicking the bathroom door shut behind him.
You found yourself kissing him again. The kiss was warm and messy, arms slid around his neck, pulling him closer as both of you melted into each other like you had been waiting all day for this exact moment.
The bathroom filled with nothing but mingled breaths and quiet laughter between kisses. His hands slipped beneath the fabric of your skirt, rough palms gliding over your thighs as he pulled you impossibly closer. Like he wanted to press himself into every part of your life.
Then, a sudden knock came.
“Aunty…”
Both of you froze instantly.
Wonjun’s sleepy voice came muffled through the door.
“I need to potty.”
You blinked, slowly turning toward Wonwoo. He stared back with the exact same exhausted disbelief.
“Just…” you struggled, trying not to laugh as his hands remained stubbornly on your waist. “Just use the guest bathroom, baby.”
“But I don’t know how.”
You nearly rolled your eyes.
Of course this was happening.
“Wonjun,” you sighed, “you’re five. You absolutely know how.”
Then came soft sniffles. Apparently being woken up from sleep was enough to trigger a minor emotional crisis.
You groaned quietly, resting your forehead against Wonwoo’s shoulder.
“Wonwoo,” you hissed under your breath, “remove your dick from the situation for one second.”
He actually laughed at that before finally stepping away.
The moment you opened the bathroom door, a sleepy-looking Wonjun stood there with watery eyes and messy hair.
You sighed immediately. There went the mood.
After helping him and reminding him to wash his hands properly, you finally walked back into your room—only to find Wonwoo was already under the duvet. He was shirtless, with his eyes closed. Looking entirely too comfortable in your bed.
“Aunty,” Wonjun asked innocently, “why was Uncle Won in the bathroom with you?”
You swore you heard Wonwoo choke back a laugh.
Keeping a perfectly straight face, you gently patted Wonjun’s head.
“Uncle Won has potty problems too,” you replied smoothly. “I was helping him. Just like you.”
A muffled snort came from the bed.
“Now go back to sleep,” you added. “Aunty needs beauty sleep before she turns into a beast.”
Wonjun nodded seriously and shuffled away.
The moment the door shut, Wonwoo opened one eye.
“Potty problems?”
“Shut up.”
You changed into your pajama pants before climbing onto the bed.
Wonwoo’s hands immediately found your waist as you settled onto his lap, his thumbs tracing slowly against your sides while he looked at you like he wanted to devour you whole.
He kissed you again, slower this time. Somehow even worse for your sanity. His palms are kneading your ass, almost tender with his touch. You melted into him instantly, fingers tangling into his hair while he pulled you closer—
right before the bedroom door burst open again.
“AUNTY!”
You yelped in shock, shoving Wonwoo away so hard he smacked against the headboard.
Wonhee stood at the door clutching her teddy bear dramatically.
“She won’t stop crying,” Wonjun complained from beside her. “And I can’t sleep.”
You and Wonwoo stared at the twins in complete silence. Then at each other. Just like that, the rest of the night ended with all four of you cramped together in one bed.
...
The next morning came far too quickly. The entire night had left both you and Wonwoo restless and unsatisfied, but at least everyone had slept peacefully. That was until Wonwoo’s snores woke everyone up, and your nephew loudly declared that he sounded like a car engine.
After throwing together something quick for breakfast before dropping the twins off at your brother’s place, you set the plates down on the table while Wonjun sat comfortably on Wonwoo’s lap, inhaling an entire cup of instant ramen. You genuinely wondered if he even chewed those.
“Thank you for the food!” the twins chorused in unison.
Wonhee sat beside Wonwoo, already picking up her food so she could eat in front of the TV in the living room. You shook your head at the sight.
Then your eyes landed on the little boy sitting comfortably on Wonwoo’s lap.
For once, you had never been jealous of children—except maybe that one time you realised you couldn’t order a Happy Meal in your mid-thirties anymore, which you now used as an excuse to buy them for the twins.
“Wonjun, can you go eat somewhere else? There are plenty of seats around here.”
Your nephew looked up curiously, pancake stuffed halfway into his mouth. “Nope.”
Your eyes narrowed. “You’re five. You don’t need to be babied anymore. Yesterday was one thing.”
Wonwoo didn’t seem bothered at all, still securing the boy comfortably in his arms. “Let him be. Why are you so worked up?”
“Of course I’m worked up. That was my spot before they took it over.”
Both Wonwoo and your nephew stared at you. The silence only broke when Wonhee suddenly ran over holding a handmade card.
“Look! Look!” she squealed excitedly. “I made this yesterday at school. Happy Mother’s Day!”
Your heart melted instantly as you accepted the card with a soft smile, patting her head affectionately. “Aw, that’s so sweet of you, darling.”
Wonjun immediately scrambled off Wonwoo’s lap and ran toward their room to grab his own version.
You took the opportunity immediately, settling yourself onto Wonwoo’s lap instead. A small “oof” escaped him at the sudden weight.
“Thank you, sweetheart, but I think you should give this to your mom.”
Wonhee leaned against both you and Wonwoo, shaking her head. “I made two! One for mama and one for you because teacher Yoon said Mother’s Day isn’t strictly for biological mothers. You took care of me when I was little, so you have a motherhood role too. You’re basically my mom!”
Then Wonjun returned, proudly handing over his own handmade card filled with messy scribbles and barely readable words.
The twins kissed both your cheeks before running back to the living room.
“They sure love you a lot for someone like you,” Wonwoo muttered.
“It’s a shame I can’t officially be called a mother.”
His palm slid gently against your lower abdomen as he leaned closer, voice dropping lower.
“I can change that.”
You immediately slapped his hand away. “Wow, look at you. I’m surprised kids are drawn to an asshole like you,” you replied nonchalantly while taking a bite of your pancake.
“The genes never lied then,” he murmured while squeezing your waist. “There’s a reason you ended up with me in the first place.”
You nearly choked at that, refusing to acknowledge how true it sounded.
“Did you know belugas don’t chew their food? Yeah, it reminds me of you inhaling those noodles. Who the hell eats like that?”
Wonwoo shrugged as he continued inhaling the noodles. “It tastes better this way.”
“Only a psychopath would eat like that.”
“Then tell me who the hell gets jealous over a kid sitting on my lap?”
You stared at him, and he stared right back just the same.
“I’m not jealous,” you replied a little too quickly.
“Who said it was you?” A shit-eating grin spread across his face, and you immediately wanted to slap the hell out of him.
“Anyway,” you quickly changed the topic while sipping your tea, “did I know you from somewhere? How did you and Mingyu know each other aside from being roommates?”
He thought for a moment, adjusting himself while you still sat comfortably on his lap. “We went to the same school and university. He doesn’t like sharing spaces with strangers.”
You mused at the information. “You went to the same school as me? Why did I never see you around?”
“I was in the Faculty of Business and Management. Maybe that’s why. Mingyu took architecture before changing to finance and accounting.”
You paused mid-bite and turned toward him. “Oh, I was in the Faculty of Applied Science… something like that. I guess that’s probably why I never saw you.”
“What did you major in?”
“Food science,” you answered simply.
After a brief silence, you spoke again.
“I’m surprised you and Mingyu haven’t kissed each other’s asses yet.”
“I know I’m an asshole, not an assfucker.”
You burst out laughing at that while reaching for his wallet and flipping through his ID picture and cards.
“What do you call a baby whale? A little squirt!”
“You’re not funny,” he deadpanned. “Give me that. Don’t go checking what’s inside.”
Did you listen? Of course not. When have you ever listened to anyone anyway? You barely listened to your parents, so why would you start with him?
“Knock knock,” he suddenly said.
You raised a brow but played along anyway. “Who’s there?”
“Whale,” he answered simply.
“Whale who?”
“Whale…” He paused before immediately snatching the wallet away from your hands. “That’s enough of that.”
You rolled your eyes before shamelessly eating half of the ramen that clearly belonged to him.
“I hope your entire generation experiences bad luck in every possible streak.”
He narrowed his eyes on you. “I’ll just marry you then. We’re going down together whether you like it or not.”
“Give me your card.”
“No. Use your own, you have money.”
“You said you’d marry me. I want to be spoiled,” you whined dramatically while leaning against him like an oversized cat. “I’ve had enough of being the alpha woman all year long.”
“I don’t want you using my money to buy your own diamond ring. I want to buy it for you.”
You turned your head toward him properly this time.
He looked completely serious.
“Unfortunately,” he continued, “I’m not being sarcastic today. Maybe tomorrow, though.”
Before you could even process that, the twins suddenly came running over excitedly. Wonhee repeatedly called your name as if you weren’t literally sitting right there.
“When can I see you become a princess one day?” she asked excitedly, twirling around while showing you a picture of a bride on her tablet.
You hated admitting it, but every year you were reminded that maybe you would never become one—though you were certainly close to becoming a witch.
Still, you smiled softly.
“Oh, maybe soon.”
The little girl gasped excitedly, eyes sparkling. “Does that mean Uncle will be your prince? And I want to stay with you the whole time when you become a princess!”
“I think he’d be more like the villain who stole the princess away rather than Prince Charming.”
“Villains are way cooler,” Wonjun added confidently.
Wonwoo merely rolled his eyes at your comments.
“Besides…” you trailed off, leaning closer until your lips brushed against his. “The evil ones are always hotter…”
You chuckled softly before kissing him, earning a smirk from Wonwoo almost immediately.
The twins loudly made gagging noises before scurrying away to continue playing around the living room. You and Wonwoo watched them go before falling back into your own little world together, spending the rest of the morning tangled up in each other before the weekend truly began.
Unfortunately, your love life never unfolded like those Prince Charming fairytales. Instead, it felt more like a ridiculous romcom sitcom filled with stupidity, arguments, and way too many unfortunate coincidences.
Unfortunately, you never met him sooner back in school. Maybe if you had, you wouldn’t have spent so long giving up on love.
Fortunately, though, you loved the way invisible strings worked.
It was beautiful that way. And fortunately, this piece of shit was yours forever to keep.
FIN.
a/n: omg, i'm finally free!! now i can focus on cheol's fic. it wasn't supposed to be so long, i spent the entire time writing shit in here. i tried eating noodles without chewing btw, almost left me choking to death and never again. it's always the shitty fic that everyone enjoyed, goodday apples! comments, reblogged are appreciated :)
warnings; protected sex, fingering, oral, use of pet names, aftercare, mention/eating food and drink, aftercare, talk of magic, use of magic
request; no
w/c; 8.6k and some change
a/n; this is written for @wonwussy/@librarian-stacks - the wonwoo to my gyu (insert all the others we have) -- happy early birthday sj. i love you very much. you are so important to me and i hope you know that. i hope you have the best day because you deserve the world. i know this isn't much but i hope that it can be a little something to transport you somewhere magical and comforting. special thanks to @junkissed/@junhui-recs, @onlyseokmins/@spookyeomie, @multi-kpop-fanfics, @bitchlessdino/@onlychans for helping me with this one. You all reading, proofreading really made the difference for this one.
divider · divider · last divider made by me · header made by me @chogiwapadada do not use, repost, or remove my watermark
“It’s a lavender tea, a bit of honey for sweetener. I know you don’t like things to be sickeningly sweet.”
You raise your brows as you take the cup and saucer from the man behind the counter, your finger slipping into the delicate handle of the porcelain cup as you palm the small saucer. Dark eyes and a slight smile watch you as you bring the cup to your lips, your expression changing as the warm liquid slides easily down your throat instantly making you feel warmer and calmer.
Wonwoo grins slightly before picking up his towel and wiping the counter as he sees the small smile cross over your lips past the dark lavender print on the cup. He always gave you this cup, it was his favorite and it fit you. You close your eyes for a moment before taking another sip letting out a happy approving sound before sitting the cup back onto the saucer looking at Wonwoo meeting his equally warm eyes that reminded you of the tea.
“It’s so good. I really like it, thank you Wonwoo.” The man watches as you balance the cup starting to take out your wallet when he holds up his hand. “On the house.” You shake your head but feel your cheeks get warm as he looks down with a grin before meeting your eyes again. “Thanks Wonwoo.”
He nods, putting the towel over his shoulder before watching you start to walk away. Swallowing hard he taps his hand on the counter twice before eyeing the old book he had brought with him to work that day before speaking up. “Hey, Y/N. I’m actually about to get off in about an hour. Would you want to get some dinner? I actually have that book I told you about.”
You turn back towards him biting at your lip when he mentions dinner, your eyes searching over his face, the round glasses that sat on his sharp nose, his chiseled jaw, the sharp cupid's bow, before you made it back again to his eyes, those deep brown eyes and you nodded slowly. “I’d like that a lot.”
Wonwoo’s excitement betrays him as you accept his dinner invitation, his smile becoming wider, a bit goofier as he speaks. “Yeah? Awesome.” You laugh and he clears his throat scratching the side of his neck trying to play it a bit cooler. “I mean, that’s really great. I will come meet you at your table once I’m clocked out.”
When Wonwoo takes off his half apron and tosses it off to the side his eyes are fixed on your table as your finger traces over the cup in front of you. He knew you had drank all of the tea, and the refills he had poured for you. So now you were just doing something with your fingers out of habit. Smiling, Wonwoo moves to the counter to pick up the brown book and his brown wool coat slipping it over his arms before putting the book securely in the inside pocket before he makes his way over to you.
You sense him before you even see him, your smile widening as you look up from your own book closing it. “All done?” He smiles and holds up his finger to signal ‘almost’ before he takes your cup making you laugh. “Wonwoo, there are other people who work here.” He laughs under his own breath as he walks away speaking. “I know but this cup…is special.” You shake your head biting down on your bottom lip as you watch him disappear for only a moment before he returns to you and stands almost awkwardly.
“Now, I’m all done.” You laugh again before shaking your head once more leaning to pick up your bag placing your book inside before moving to his side. “Where are we going?” Wonwoo shifts on his feet, his hands sliding into his pockets as he leans towards the door so you both can start walking. “I was actually thinking, are you opposed to going back to my place?”
You pause only for a second as he walks through the door, the bell ringing as he does. You hadn’t expected him to ask that of you but you weren’t opposed. Smiling, you shyly shake your head before walking out into the crisp air with Wonwoo. “Great, I don’t live very far. Just a couple blocks actually. I’ll order some food for us and we can…you know, look at the book.”
Wonwoo dares to glance at you, finding you looking at him which causes him to get shy. He pushes his glasses back up his nose where they had slid down very slightly before he looked back in front of him to focus on where he was walking. “That sounds nice Wonwoo.” You can’t help the small amused sound that falls from your lips at how he is reacting to you.
Normally you were the shy one, but with him it was like he was afraid he was going to say the wrong thing and you’d run in the other direction at any moment. When in reality you were so far from doing that. A gust of wind blows past the two of you making you both shiver, so you step closer to Wonwoo noting his smile out of the corner of your eye. Who said girls couldn’t make the first move?
Wonwoo purses his lips in slight shock when you put your hand on his arm and then into his pocket so you can hold his slightly warmer hand. He was always a bit warmer so he had hot packs in his pockets but when your cold hand hit him he shivered for more than one reason. “Oh, you are so cold Y/N. You should wear a scarf tomorrow. If I had mine today I’d let you wear it now.” You laugh and shake your head looking at how cute his nose was, a very slight tinge of pink to it from the autumn air.
“I’m okay. Your hand is warm, you are smart to have hot packs.” Wonwoo smiles a bit brighter, flexing his hand barely in his pocket before moving to lace his hand with yours letting the hot pack rest between your palms. “I try to think ahead.” You smile nodding, thinking to yourself how true that is, just knowing how he has been with you at the coffee shop.
When the two of you reach a set of brownstone apartment buildings, a set of stairs with an ornate iron handrail, Wonwoo stops taking his other hand from his pocket before leading you up the small staircase. He only lets go of your hand letting it slip from his pocket so he can open the door for you letting you into the building moving in behind you.
“Luckily I’m only on the second floor. No elevator in this old building.” You glance back at him with a laugh before shrugging as he gives you another shy look, taking the lead up the stairs. “And I promise, it’s warmer in my apartment.” You follow the man up the stairs watching him as he stops in front of a door marked 2C before he takes out his keys and pushes the door open.
“Make yourself at home.” Sliding past him you can’t help but to glance up at him in the tight doorway, his warm spicy scent hitting your nose before you look away shyly this time moving past him. You find yourself in a cozy space, something you’d describe perfectly as Wonwoo. Lots of woodsy tones, the smell of spice that matched his cologne, and books stacked almost everywhere. You slip off your shoes and start to move in further to look around when something bumps up against your legs drawing your attention.
Wonwoo watches you as he kicks his own shoes off before putting his jacket on the hook before taking his book out of the pocket holding it in his hand. You looked perfect here, you just matched the space. He wanted you here. You made it feel warmer somehow. He wanted to help you out of your coat and offer you a cup of tea but then you glance down at your feet and he can’t help but to smile into an embarrassed sound as he watches his cat rub around your legs before meowing.
“That’s Ash, he isn’t, uh, usually so friendly with guests. Not that I bring guests over often, or ever really. This is rare if I’m honest. Is he bothering you?” Wonwoo watches as you sit your bag down on the coffee table before moving to sit on your heels, a smile lighting up your face as you run your delicate fingers over the cat's head and down his spine making the sleek black cat purr, his tail flicking eloquently.
“He will never be a bother. I love cats so much. I have one of my own. Her name is Polly…she’s solid white actually. Almost like Ash’s polar opposite. He is stunning.” Wonwoo watches as Ash seems to beam with pride at your compliment as he glances over to his owner with a small meow. “Don’t stroke his ego too much Y/N. He’s very susceptible.”
You laugh and scratch lightly under Ash’s chin before the cat seems to give you and Wonwoo some space trotting off before you stand when Wonwoo moves closer before sitting his book down on the table next to your bag. “Can I help you with your coat?” You smile and bite at your bottom lip before nodding.
“Very gentlemanly of you Wonwoo.” The man laughs as you turn your back to him. His hands sliding up your arms lightly before he moves them around to gently take the collar of your coat and slide it backwards off your shoulders and finally your arms removing it. You turn to watch him as he hangs it up with his own by the door. “I try to be, or at least I want to be with you.”
You can’t help the warmth that floods your cheeks at his words even as you watch him take out his cellphone and his thumb moving over the screen as if he hadn’t said something so impossibly sweet to you. “How does soup sound? There is a little bistro that delivers just down the street. The food is really good.” You sit down on the couch with a small approving sound as Wonwoo looks over at you, a smile crossing his lips as you nod. “Okay, I’ll get us that and make us some tea.”
Watching Wonwoo, you sigh happily as he waves with his phone before disappearing into the kitchen leaving you alone in the living room. Your eyes glancing around, taking in all the things that were even more personal about him. The brown leather bound book on the table catches your eye first but you don’t touch it wanting him to give you permission first, so instead you glance at the shelf lined with books. You read a few titles from your seat before standing again moving to get a closer look.
A Tale of Two Cities, Wuthering Heights, Moby Dick, and the Harry Potter series were just a few things that caught your attention while you ran your fingers over the shelves. A few picture frames adorned the spaces between books and bookends. You were able to pick Wonwoo out in a few of the pictures along with people who were probably relatives just based on similar appearances and others who were friends.
You find yourself smiling as you run your finger over Wonwoo’s face in a picture of him with a group of 3 other men. The smile on his face was so wide and genuine it made your heart feel tight. You had been so caught up looking at the handsome man that when Ash rubs up against your legs again you jump slightly and laugh when you look down at the shocking green eyes of the cat who meows at you curiously.
“Hello handsome.” Your voice is soft and melodic as you speak to the animal as you walk around him and back to the couch. Sitting down you are followed by the cat who jumps up and lays on your lap purring. “You do like me huh? Do I fit the bill for you dad? Is it bad that I hope so?” The cat lets out a small meow and you laugh as you run your fingers over his head with a sigh. “Can I tell you a secret and you keep it?”
Wonwoo balances the tea cups in his hands as he starts back into the living room only to stop when he sees you talking quietly to Ash and hears you mention fitting the bill for him and then asking the cat to keep a secret for you. Wonwoo waits a moment though he feels a pang of guilt at knowing your secret as you speak, “I really hope so because I really like him.”
A breath escapes Wonwoo’s lips as he closes his eyes hearing your confession, the cups shaking in his hands slightly before he steadies himself and moves further into the room as he clears his throat. “Alright, food should be here in less than 20 minutes and I made Earl Grey tea.” You watch as Ash stretches in your lap before he bumps against your arm and jumps down leaving you all to Wonwoo.
You can’t help but wonder if Wonwoo heard you, but he doesn’t seem to give it away if he did. Smiling, you take one of the cups before thanking him as he sits beside you as he sighs softly. “I put a little milk in it and a couple of pieces of sugar. I know you like floral things but you did have a few cups of that today, I thought I’d change it up a little.”
Wonwoo watches as you smile brighter, a piece of your hair falling down in front of your face as you glance down getting ready to lift the teacup to your lips. The urge to touch you, to push that piece of stray hair from your face is too much that he can’t resist so he does it. His fingers brush the tendril back slowly as you glance up before the cup even reaches your lips. Your eyes meet his as he gently places the hair behind your ear before letting his hand trail along the side of your neck as he pulls it away.
“Sorry, I–you might have gotten your hair in your tea.” Wonwoo stumbles over his words, looking away as he sits his cup down as you take a sip of your tea before doing the same. “Wonwoo?” The man sitting beside you makes a questioning sound almost afraid to look at you but when your finger lifts at his chin turning his face towards you, he loses his resolve letting out a breath. “Y/N…”
The electricity seems to ebb and flow between the two of you as Wonwoo says your name, his body closes the space. His lips brushing against yours causes a small sigh to fall from your lips, a smile pulling at his lips as he lifts his hand to brush at your neck again before letting his fingers slide into your hair as his lips seal with your own for the first time. The butterflies in your stomach are in a frenzy at the kiss, the feeling of his touch as he pulls you just slightly closer before gently leaning back to meet your eyes.
“Is this too much? Too fast?” You shake your head, a pout almost forming on your lips as he starts to lean back before he smiles at your reaction. “God, Y/N…I’ve wanted to kiss you for months. Since the first time you walked into the coffee shop. You had on that sundress with the purple flowers. Your hair was in a braid.”
Your cheeks burn slightly at the details he remembers but especially when Wonwoo reaches up to tug gently at the end of your hair at the mention of your braided hair. “You were…no, you are so beautiful.” Wonwoo shakes his head before moving his hand to run his thumb under your bottom lip, starting to lean in to kiss you again when there is a knock at the door. You jump and him sighs, closing his eyes and leaning his forehead to yours. “The food…”
Wonwoo’s fingers run over your cheek as the delivery person knocks on the door once again before he sighs and moves from you, speaking, “Coming.” You watch as he slides from the couch and runs his hand through his hair. This was one of the first times you had ever seen him almost frustrated as he opened the door and nodded at the man holding the bags.
Barely able to make out the conversation, you watch Wonwoo take the bags as he nods and the man glances passed him towards you nodding before he turns and leaves. With a sigh Wonwoo smiles, using his foot to kick the door closed before turning back to you when you hear the lock move into place as he moves back into the room. You watch him lift the two bags showing you the food, making you smile as you carefully clear the coffee table taking extra care with his book, putting it in the upper corner of the table away from anything that might spill.
“So their special was their house tomato soup, so I ordered that along with whatever it comes with.” You laugh, nodding at his words as he sits the bags on the table and works to dig through the bags taking out everything making sure he puts things in front of you first. Large containers of soup and enough bread that neither of you could possibly go hungry.
“This looks so good, Wonwoo. Thank you.” The man smiles and bites at his lip when you speak, taking the lids off the containers before offering you a spoon. You watch his hands before you take the spoon letting your fingers slide from his before he finally sits beside you as he simply watches you. A laugh falls from your lips as he doesn’t seem to make a move to pick up his own soup so you gesture towards the food. “We should eat it before it gets cold.”
Wonwoo sighs and nods furrowing his brows. “I know…I just was enjoying things, you know before.” Your cheeks warm at his words as you bring some soup to your lips, swallowing the bite before meeting his eyes again. “I did too.” You laugh softly at his choice of wording as you watch him finally pick up the food dipping his bread into the soup before taking a bite of it following it with a sip of his soup. “I really hope that you will kiss me again later.”
You continue to eat after saying that and Wonwoo can’t seem to understand how. Your words made his stomach flip with nerves and excitement. You watch him smile and glance back down at his food before he lets out a slow breath and shakes his head. “I promise I will. As much as you want, as much as you will let me.”
Wonwoo watches you smile as you eat shyly. The two of you share a casual conversation, him lifting a napkin to brush a crumb from your lips, you returning the favor when you notice a bit of soup in the corner of his lips. Once the two of you have finished you watch him clear the table, though you offer to help but instead he tells you to just stay comfortable and finish your tea. Ever the considerate man.
Inside the kitchen Wonwoo leans his hands on the counter as he takes a breath. He wasn’t sure how he thought this night would go, how he wanted it to turn out, but what he did know was how he felt about you. Glancing down at his feet Wonwoo grins at Ash before leaning down to run his hand along the cat’s back as he meows. “Yeah? Me too bud. So much…”
When Wonwoo moves back into the living room his teeth catch his bottom lip as he watches you holding your teacup as you look out of his living room window. The sun had pretty much set, the light in the room becoming even warmer because of the lamps. Your fingers wrapped around the cup but still under your sleeves much like how he usually had his, sweater paws you usually called them.
“Y/N?” You smile at your name on his lips turning to look at him as he moves to sit back on the couch sliding in closer than he had before. His hand moves to slide your hair behind your ear before he glances at his book on the table and sighs. “I’ve never…shown anyone that book before.” You follow his eyes and then lean to pick up your purse taking out your own book as you cross your legs letting your foot rest against his shin.
Wonwoo watches you carefully as you slide your hand over the leather book with a sigh. “I haven’t shown anyone mine either. “A grimoire is a very personal thing for a witch.” You smile and look at Wonwoo meeting his eyes before you speak again. “Or a warlock.” He nods, his fingers gently running over your cheek before moving to your neck, just barely grazing your skin before he looks down at your lap as you open your grimoire.
“But I trust you Wonwoo. You are so careful.” You laugh again and lean into the man feeling warmer as you do, making him sigh out happily. “Though you did lock the door with a spell after getting our food. I think you did it subconsciously because you were frustrated.” Wonwoo wrinkles his nose and nods. “You noticed?” You nod and smile softly before looking back at your book, flipping through the first few pages showing him some of the spells that had been passed down to you through the years from your family.
“Then I started crafting my own, as I got better. I’m better with runes. Not so much with potions, like you are.” Wonwoo feels his cheeks get warm at your compliment as he shrugs and you feel his fingers gently run along the back of your neck as he speaks. “It was just what my family specialized in. That’s why we have the coffee shop.”
Wonwoo grins as you smile at him again, your warm smile drawing him in closer before he leans to grab his grimoire, opening it, placing it over yours letting you start to look through it. Recipes upon recipes covering the pages. Small drawings of what you could only assume were Ash in the margins. You run your fingers over the words and the drawings with a smile and a shake of your head.
“Your mind is amazing Wonwoo. I wouldn’t think of half of this. Verbena mixed with lavender for protection…” Your brows furrow and you glance over to Wonwoo as he swallows hard at your reaction. “Have you been protecting me?” Wonwoo sighs and tilts his head. “If I say yes, are you going to be upset with me? I haven’t been doing anything that would cause anything negative. Not a true potion. Just…herbs.”
The butterflies in your stomach were in a frenzy again as you closed his grimoire and then yours as Wonwoo watched you nervously as you placed the books on the table. He wasn’t sure what you were doing. Were you going to pack up your things and walk out? Could he blame you? He had been putting the herbs in your tea for a while now without telling you the true purpose.
But instead of doing what Wonwoo had thought you might do, you turn your body towards him. Your hands move to hold his face as you lean in to press your lips to his gently, taking him by surprise. Wonwoo’s eyes widen before he lets them close, his hands moving to slide down your forearms before he moves his hands to your waist pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss.
You smile against his lips before you let his tongue slip along your own. Your hands move to the sides of his neck as you move to your knees before Wonwoo groans softly into the kiss, his fingers tightening against your sides when he guides you over his lap. He grins into the kiss as your nose brushes against his as you sit down on his legs, his hands sliding along your hips to your thighs and back before he moves one of his hands to your jaw pulling your face that much closer.
Wonwoo only breaks the kiss again to groan softly and work his kisses along your cheek before looking up at you as he checks to make sure you are okay with this before he goes any further, but when you bite at your lip and look at his lips he can’t help but to blow out a breath at the vision of you. This beautiful creature sitting on his lap, his hands gracing your body, his lips able to take yours, your skin…it’s almost too much that he can’t help how he is hardening under you.
It isn’t lost on you that Wonwoo is aroused, you are just as aroused but you can see the question in his eyes. The same question was playing in yours but you wanted to see where this could go. You want more of him. His fingers playing at the hem of your shirt was driving you crazy, your skin erupting with goosebumps as you let out a soft sigh of his name making Wonwoo lick his lips and tilt his head. “Just tell me what you want and it’s yours Y/N.”
“Take me to bed Wonwoo?” His eyes close briefly at your request, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat visibly before he nods and looks up at you letting his hands slide under your shirt over your soft skin making you instantly warmer. You wondered how he was able to do that with a simple touch. “God…Y/N.” Your name is almost a whine on his lips before he leans to kiss your throat making you whine this time at how sweet his kisses feel as his hands slide further up your shirt.
Your breath quickens as your own hands move over his sides and up his chest to his shoulders as you roll your hips over Wonwoo for the first time. A groan falls from his lips as he leans his head back from you to lean on the couch, his hands trembling slightly on your back before he opens his eyes to look at you. “I’ll take you to bed.” You smile and slide from his lap before Wonwoo takes your hand bringing it to his lips kissing your fingers. He walks backwards, leading you towards a short hallway and finally an open door to a dark room.
He never lets go of your hand, he only whispers “ignis” on your lips, a latin word you know to mean flame as he pulls you close to him wrapping his other arm around your waist. You watch the room become brighter with candlelight, four candles have come to life at his spoken word.
Wonwoo sighs against your lips before stepping back to finally release your hand as he takes off his sweater tossing it on to a chair as your eyes watch him almost shyly. “If you don’t want the candles…I can put them out. I just wanted to be able to see you, especially the first time.” Wonwoo had a way of making your skin warm, be that with his touch or his words by making your skin feel flushed. You step forward at the sight of his skin, shaking your head as you run your fingers gently over his sides, your eyes following your fingertips as you smile into your words. “The first time?”
A small laugh escapes the man’s lips as he lifts his hand to push your hair behind your ear. He sucks in a breath at your gentle touch over his stomach before your fingers move to his jeans, undoing them before you look up to meet his eyes before he answers you. “I hope this is the beginning of something Y/N. I like you very much. I hope that is obvious.” You smile and nod, meeting his lips in a soft kiss as your fingers work to push down his jeans. His fingers finally move to your shirt once again, gently lifting it at your sides before he pulls back, watching you lift your arms for him.
Wonwoo can’t help but smile in wonder at you, how perfect you are. How you are everything he’s ever wanted. He watches as you shake your hair from your face as he carefully pulls the shirt from you and lays it with his own, his eyes traveling over your skin making him take a shaky breath.
You loved how he watched you, like a man falling in love, or perhaps like a man who had been in love for a while. His adoring eyes travel over your skin, tracing the contours over your figure before he meets your eyes and shakes his head with a goofy grin spreading over his face. “You are so beautiful.” Wonwoo watches your lashes lower as you turn your back to him and he takes in a deep breath before running his finger over your spine watching goosebumps spread over your skin before he reaches the clasp of your bra undoing it.
“It’s been a while since anyone has said things like this to me, Wonwoo, or seen me like this.” Wonwoo wants to say it’s a shame because you deserve to be told how beautiful you are and to be marveled at every day, but at the same time he finds himself happy to know that this is for him. He doesn’t have to share this with anyone, the jealousy would be too much. “I’ll tell you all the time Y/N.”
You close your eyes as you feel his hands slide along your bare back up to your shoulders so he can guide the straps of your bra along your arms before you feel the cups fall from your breasts making you smile. Moving your arms, you let the garment fall to the floor before you feel Wonwoo’s hands slide along your waist and around your body. His fingertips take in the feeling of your soft skin over your stomach before he presses his lips to your shoulder making you shiver.
“Would you like that? For me to be the one to tell you how beautiful you are?” You smile again at his words as you nod and lean back against him as Wonwoo’s hands move to undo your jeans. His nimble fingers work them down your hips, letting the fabric’s weight take care of the rest so his hands can move along your skin, explore more. “Can I?”
Wonwoo’s fingers graze at the top elastic of your panties as his mouth moves along your neck up into your hairline making you whine before you nod and whisper out a yes. He smiles against your skin and uses his thumbs to slide them down slowly as his lips capture your earlobe making you moan his name as you arch against his chest. The colder air of the room hitting between your legs at the loss of the fabric but his warm body pressing against you makes up for it.
You lean your head back on Wonwoo’s shoulder, letting him look down at your body which makes him groan as he runs one hand over your breast, the other sliding over your hip before he dares to let his fingers brush over the top of your slit.
“Y/N…” You let out a soft moan at your name falling from Wonwoo’s lips as his fingers parted your folds. His middle finger grazes over your clit making your knees weak. “Wonwoo…please.” Your voice is more of a whine than you intend but it is enough to make Wonwoo weak. His finger sliding from you before he steps away to lead you to his bed, laying you down.
“I don’t want you to have to want for anything. All that need in your voice, fuck…I can’t stand to hear you so needy without doing something about it baby.” You watch Wonwoo as he speaks, his eyes moving over your body before he moves on to the bed sliding his hands over your legs spreading them so he can lay between them. When he calls you baby for the first time you can’t help the way your heart tightens, those butterflies in your stomach doing flips.
Wonwoo kisses your knee and you moan softly, reaching out a hand to him. He takes it with a free hand, lacing his fingers with yours as he slides in closer looking up at you. “Wonwoo…” You whisper his name, making him groan and squeeze his eyes shut before he presses a kiss to your inner thigh using his free hand to run his fingers through your folds again.
You arch your back, rolling your hips towards his fingers as Wonwoo carefully works his index finger around your entrance before letting you push your hips over it as you lift your free hand to your lips, biting gently at your own finger to quieten your moan. Wonwoo smiles against your skin as he glances at you one more time before his warm breath fans your core for the first time.
“Oh my god…” The words slip around your finger with a moan as Wonwoo’s tongue glides over your clit gently once, twice, before he slips a second finger into your warmth. Wonwoo’s mouth moves over your folds, sucking gently, his tongue parting them carefully so he can wrap his lips around your clit. “Wonwoo! Please…please baby.”
Your cries cause Wonwoo to groan around your clit sending a vibration through you when you call him the pet name. Your toes pointing, your fingers holding tightly to his as your walls clench around his fingers while they curl up against the roof of your pussy against the rough patch of nerves making your thighs quiver.
When you orgasm for the first time, the flames of the candles burn brighter in the room at your moan of Wonwoo’s name. Your head is thrown back against the pillows while you move your free hand to grip the bedding under you until the man between your legs slowly slides his fingers from you with a soft smile on his lips.
Wonwoo kisses your wet folds before leaning back to lick his lips, his eyes finally looking up the length of your body again as he grins. “You are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen in my life.” When you smile trying to catch your breath, a laugh falling from your lips, Wonwoo laughs too before leaning to kiss your thigh again. “Come here, Wonwoo.”
He nods, leaning to sit back on his knees before sliding off the bed as you watch him. His hands push his boxers down, causing you to bite your bottom lip when you see his cock for the first time. He was perfect, every part of him. Shaking your head, you reach for him again and Wonwoo laughs, taking your hand as he leans to open his nightstand, taking out a condom before he moves back on the bed.
Your lips find his neck, making Wonwoo moan softly under his breath as he leans back against the headboard. His hand falls from yours so he can tear open the foil packet taking out the condom before he rolls it over his length with a slow steady breath. One of your hands moves down his abs before you wrap your fingers around his cock under his own hand.
Wonwoo groans, leaning his head back at your touch, his tongue darting over his lips as he feels your hand stroke him once as you move your mouth across his jaw. “Y/N…I…” You smile against his skin as he tries to speak only to groan again as you run your thumb over his tip. “Baby, fuck. I’ll let you do whatever you want to me next time but if you do this tonight I’ll cum before…and I…”
You silence him with a kiss as you hold him at his base before moving into his lap, nodding to agree with him. Wonwoo’s hands move to hold your hips as you hover above him before slowly sinking down over his length. Your mouth falls from his as you gasp softly into a moan at the stretch, your hands moving to Wonwoo’s chest as you sit on his lap much like you had on the couch.
Wonwoo’s hands slide up to your ribs as he lets you adjust to him, your legs wrapping around his waist. One of his hands moving up to your neck and resting there, his thumb gently caressing your skin. “God, you feel so good.” You lift your hand running it along his forearm to up his wrist holding it loosely when you roll your hips over Wonwoo letting him know it was ok to start moving.
“Please move Wonwoo. I need you.” Nodding Wonwoo lifts his legs pulling you closer, your breasts pushing against his chest as he holds your hip with the other slowly thrusting up into you. His soft groan, music to your ears as he pulls you closer with his hand around your neck before he speaks against your lips. “So good, my girl.” You smile at the name and the ‘my’ in front of it.
Wonwoo can’t help how he feels, the tightening in his stomach, in his groin, when you let out softly breathy moans of his name every time his cock brushes against your cervix. His hand drops from your throat to move to your hip so he can help you move easier as you wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your lips to his to let him swallow your moans.
You were so close again, your walls tightening around Wonwoo as his fingers pressed into your skin. His fingernails leave shallow divots in your hips as you whine on his lips coming undone for him for the second time that night. Wonwoo groans into your mouth when you roll your hips over him and he feels you cum around him.
The way your body was pulling him in, your warmth, how wet you were, how you were holding him, kissing him…it was all too much for him to hold on for much longer. Wonwoo’s hands move from your hips to your back as a breath gets caught in his throat when his release takes over him and he spills into the condom with a few final thrusts.
You can’t help but to smile against his lips as his hips come to a stop and you simply sit still for a moment feeling him soften inside of you while his fingers run along your back. Wonwoo’s lips moving against yours in a sweet but deep kiss before he pulls back to look at you. His long fingers pushing your hair back as he smiles and shakes his head. “Incredible…you made the candles burn brighter both times.”
Wonwoo watches your lashes lower as you turn your face away, making him laugh before he moves his hand to your cheek feeling how warm your face had gotten from his words. “I think it’s sexy. God you are perfect…I want you to be mine.” You meet his intense gaze as Wonwoo runs his thumb along your bottom lip before you press a kiss to it. “Then I am Wonwoo.”
A grin spreads across his face at your words, Wonwoo pulls you back down to press a kiss to your lips keeping you close for a moment longer before he groans softly into a sigh. His forehead resting on yours as he contemplates his next words making you smile. “We need to get cleaned up, but I’d like for you to stay the night.”
No one had ever asked you to stay afterwards and you can’t think back to a time when you had really asked for someone to stay. Wonwoo’s words make your heart tighten once again and the butterflies in your stomach come alive once again. “I…could stay.” The man under you smiles when you agree, kissing you once more before helping you to move from his lap before sliding from the bed himself to begin cleaning up.
You watch him for a moment, laying on your side as he throws away the condom and the wrapper before he picks up his clothes and yours, putting them all on the chair. A small smile crossing your lips as you bring your thumb to your lips biting at your nail to hide it when he looks back. “What?” You shake your head and Wonwoo narrows his eyes playfully before moving back to the bed to offer you his hand. “I think you’re laughing at me Y/N.”
Taking his hand you sit up and slide out of the bed, moving to your feet before he pulls you into his arms looking down at you. “No, I’m just amused by your habits. I think you are sweet. You picked up our clothes.” Wonwoo glances at the chair then back to you with a shrug and a smirk. “I have to be a gentleman, I can’t leave your clothes on the ground. What kind of boyfriend do you think I am going to be?”
Wonwoo moves back to your side, lacing his fingers with yours as you bite at your lip. His words constantly make your head spin. “I don’t know, I’m ready to find out though.” Wonwoo laughs softly as he leads you out of the room and to his bathroom so he can turn on the shower before he leaves the room, promising to come back and join you.
With a moment alone you can’t help but to turn towards the mirror as it starts to steam up to take a breath. The day begins to catch up with you in your mind. It hadn’t been where you had thought it was going but you were happy with where it was ending. You step into the shower alone, letting the warm water run over you as you lean your head back, closing your eyes enjoying the calming feeling.
Wonwoo returns to the bathroom with fresh towels, his eyes moving to the shower, the shadow of your form behind the curtain making him take a deep breath. Yes, he had just made love to you, but that didn’t stop how you were going to affect him every time. He wasn’t sure that even if he was with you for the rest of his life he wouldn’t have this reaction every single time.
Biting at his lip, Wonwoo takes in a breath of the steamy air before stepping behind the curtain to let his eyes move over your body as the water runs over it. Wonwoo let out that same breath that he hadn’t realized he had been holding before taking a step closer letting his fingertips brush over your waist making you jump slightly but a smile forms on your face as you open your eyes to look at him.
“I didn’t even hear you. You are just as quiet as Ash.” Wonwoo smiles, his right hand tracing the contour of your hip before he takes his hand from your body to grab his body wash pouring some on to a washcloth. “Well, he is my familiar.” You watch him, taking in a deep breath of the spicy, warm, woodsy scent of his body wash before he rubs his hand over it making it lather.
“Sorry, you are going to smell like me.” You shake your head and laugh as he starts to run the washcloth over your body beginning with your hip. “Why would you apologize for that?” Wonwoo meets your eyes with a slight smile as he moves the lather along your stomach and your breasts. “You smell like...comfort Wonwoo.”
Wonwoo can’t help but to bite at his lip again as you turn your back to him, letting him wash your back before he lets you take over. “I do?” You nod as Wonwoo watches you finish washing your body, his eyes traveling the length of your legs before he makes it back to your face as you wash out the washcloth and grab the other. “You do, like spices and like a woodsy sort of smell.”
He watches as you move closer to him doing the same he had for you with his body wash, running the washcloth over his body starting at his neck and working your way down as he shivers slightly at your touch. “You have a comforting smell too Y/N.” You laugh and tilt your head as you run the washcloth around his side before sliding it down his v-cut making Wonwoo groan softly.
“Hm, what do I smell like?” Wonwoo sighs, trying not to get aroused so quickly again as he licks his lips, moving towards the water as you guide him towards it, stepping behind him to wash his back. “Like chai tea and lavender.” You smile as the water runs down his back and washes the soap away before you lean to kiss his shoulder, making Wonwoo close his eyes. His hand reaches behind him to rest on your hip as you put the washcloth to the side.
Wonwoo’s eyes close again when he feels you kiss his skin again. Your soft lips make his resolve less each time. You feel his fingers press into your thigh before he turns and guides you to the shower wall leaning in to press his lips to yours. Wonwoo’s hand moving to your jaw tilting your head back slightly, his thumb caressing your skin lightly as he smiles on your lips before his tongue asks for permission against your lips.
When your lips part for him, Wonwoo’s tongue glides along yours like a dance, slow and steady. He was never in a rush, never when it came to you it seemed. He wanted to savor it all. Remember it all. Your hand moves to rest on his forearm, the other his chest as the water gently rains over your bodies for a few minutes longer. Only when you smile does Wonwoo pull back, nudging his nose against yours.
“The water will start running cold if I need you in here too long.” You laugh on his lips furrowing your brows as you press one last kiss to his lips before letting him move from you. He offers you his hand making sure you don’t slip while getting out of the shower before wrapping you in a warm towel, always making sure you are taken care of first before doing anything for himself.
You watch him dry off before wrapping the towel around his waist as he smiles a bit to one side at you as he watches you finish drying off. “What?” The word calling from your lips in a gentle laugh. Wonwoo grins a bit more fully as he leans to kiss your temple shaking his head. “I just love having you here.” You bite at your lip at his words before he slips around you, heading back into his bedroom where you can hear the sound of his dresser being opened.
Your eyes find the mirror in front of you once again as you run your fingers through your hair, considering his words and how those butterflies were seemingly in a race in your stomach when Wonwoo returns in a pair of shorts carrying some clothes. “I hope they will fit you okay and be comfortable. When this happens again…we can prepare better.”
Wonwoo smiles at you in the mirror, his glasses back on his face. You smile as they steam up slightly from just being in the room. “You can come to my place next time, but you will have to bring your own clothes, Wonwoo. I doubt I have anything that will fit you.” He laughs running his fingers over your shoulders before moving his hand to your hair moving it from your neck so he can lean to kiss your skin making you sigh happily before his hands move to take your towel leaving you naked in front of him again.
“If I had my way you’d sleep like this, but I do want you to be comfortable.” You glance up at his eyes again, a small smirk on your lips at his words before you turn in his arms and meet his eyes fully. “I am comfortable...but only if you lose the shorts.” Wonwoo smirks back at you, narrowing his eyes playfully as you feel his hands move around his hips before he pushes his shorts down and steps out of them.
Your laugh is like music and Wonwoo will never get tired of it. His fingers lace with yours as he leads you back to the bedroom, you see the bed turned down with extra blankets that you know he had added in case you wanted them. Shaking your head, you lean your head on his shoulder for a moment before letting go of his hand to climb onto the bed, letting him follow you. Wonwoo pulls a few layers over your body worried you will get cold, making you smile as you move in close to him. “You are a worry wart.”
“I...no, I am just making sure you won’t be cold. I am the reason you are naked and I don’t…” You laugh again before moving over Wonwoo making him groan and smile as you drape your leg over his hip, your leg brushing against him. He just repeats to himself like a mantra, later later later, as he wraps his arm around you. “I’ll be fine Wonwoo, I have you to keep me warm.”
Wonwoo lets out a slow breath and nods, his cheek resting against your forehead as your fingers run over his chest, stomach, and hip under the covers. He can’t help but to laugh sucking in his stomach to how you are making him feel when he has to groan again. “You are killing me Y/N.” You laugh leaning to kiss his neck as you let your fingers finally stay mostly near his hip bone. “I’ll be good.”
You close your eyes not thinking much about what you are doing as you draw shapes on Wonwoo’s skin as he mutters “extinguo”, the candles in the room extinuishing. His soft breath calms you down as you listen to him while you wind down. It isn’t until you draw one last circle that Wonwoo hisses softly and you both notice a faint purple glow under the cover.
Wonwoo moves the sheet and looks where your fingers are, seeing a fading rune where your fingers tremble slightly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even think…” His own fingers rub over the symbol, a larger circle, four on the points, a diamond shape connecting them, and a center circle. He had seen this in your grimoire. It was your protection rune. “A protection rune?”
You look as the light fades from the rune completely, the moonlight from the window letting you see the lines that look more like a fading tattoo now. “Yes, but I wasn’t thinking. I can remove it. I crossed a line, I didn’t ask for your permission Wonwoo.” You start to move your hand, a word of latin on your lips when Wonwoo takes your fingers and shushes you.
“Don’t…I want it. It’s a part of you with me now.” You look up to meet Wonwoo’s eyes as he smiles and lifts your hand to kiss your fingers, the same ones that had left the rune, “My little witch.” Your cheeks burn slightly as you smile before leaning up to kiss him gently. “Don’t make me fall in love with you so quickly, Jeon Wonwoo.”
Wonwoo smiles on your lips, his fingers pushing your hair behind your ear as he kisses you before speaking furrowing his brows. “I can’t promise that, when I’m falling in love with you just as quickly Y/N.” You want to whine and tell him how unfair he is for being too unrealistic, too perfect but the feeling of something jumping on the bed draws both you and Wonwoo’s attention as Ash stretches at the end of the bed and curls up against your legs.
“He agrees, you know? From the moment you walked in.” You sigh on Wonwoo’s lips before nuzzling your head under his chin laying on his chest. Wonwoo laughs softly and holds you closer making a silent promise to himself and you to make this last and keep you safe. He had plenty of verbena and you loved lavender tea with honey.
please note that I am doing my best to tag all of you who have filled out the tag list form but tumblr won’t let me tag some of you. I think that is because either you have tags turned off or possibly a blank tumblr page. consider reblogging some of the fics you like from me or other writers. ♥
❀ 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: lots of angst, talks of heart break, mentions of getting divorced, don’t worry this has a hopeful ending.
❀ 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected p in v, creampie, cum play, oral (both rec), multiple positions, fingering, they’re both kinda desperate, lots of making out, it’s pretty vanilla Nicknames: baby, Goldie (hers)
❀ 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 18+ nsfw
❀ 𝐚𝐧: this is for @svthub first blooms collab. Thank you @aeristudios and @supi-wupi for helping and beta reading for me again 💕 Divider by @/saradika-graphics.
When it comes to firsts, you and Joshua were each others first for practically everything. He was your first kiss, you shared your first time together, you awkwardly lost your virginities to each other. You were each others first loves and your first heartbreaks.
Seven months, and six days have passed since you walked out the door and never came back. In that time you haven't moved on, you haven't tried to date anyone one. In your heart and soul you're still married.
ITS NEVER OVER
Joshua doesn't think he's ever loved, or will love anyone like he loves you. Watching you walk out of your shared home after an argument, was the most heartbreaking moment of his life.
The first three months you were gone, Joshua texted or called you everyday trying to get you to come home. Slowly the communication started to fade, and now Joshua hasn't spoken to you in three months and twenty-two days.
Since you left Joshua had refused to acknowledge you're sperated. He still wears his wedding ring, and anytime a woman tries to flirt with him he always reminds them he's married.
He's not sure if he can save his marriage or if you'll ever comeback home. He holds out hope that one day you'll come back home.
-
It's another day Joshua is working at the flower shop you both own from open to close. He has Jeonghan helping out running out the small coffee shop that's attached to it.
Today isn't an easy day for Joshua by any means. Today should be your eighth anniversary.
He's spent today burying himself in work. Jeonghan is very aware of what today is. He offered to work open to close with his best friend so he can keep an eye on him.
Joshua is putting the finishing touches on a floral arrangement for a regular who always buys flower for his wife. He puts the arrangement in the cooler before fishing his phone out of his pocket.
Opening his text he goes to your pinned contact. He frows seeing his last message from you was three months ago.
Shua [10:32am] Happy Anniversary.
He stares at his phone knowing there probably won't be response. You’ve barely responded to the last few messages he's sent.
Around noon Jeonghan finally convinces him to at least take a short lunch with him. Joshua's finished up all the early pick up orders and Mina has no problem running the flower counter, and taking orders.
Sitting in the back office Joshua leans back in his chair rubbing his eyes. He hates everything about today.
Jeonghan doesn't like seeing his best friend so distraught. For the last few months he's contemplated begging you to come back to your clearly broken estranged husband. This is your first anniversary apart and he knows Joshua is barely hanging on by a thread.
Leaning forwards, Joshua finally takes a bite of his salad that Jeonghan had ordered him. He can feel his best friend's eyes burning into him, with each bite he takes.
"Why are you here today?" Jeonghan thought Joshua would spend the day at home moping around.
"Because if I spend the day trapped in the home I used to share with her, I might actually lose my mind."
"Shua, maybe it's time you ask for her to comeback or give you a divorce?"
Joshua let's out a heavy sigh leaning back again. "I don't want a divorce. I just want my wife back."
"I know you do. It's just— Shua I hate seeing you torn up like this."
"I know. I hate feeling this way. I just don't know what to do."
"You should go out with me and Seungcheol to the bar tonight."
"Is that a good idea?" Joshua sighs.
"Yeah. I'm not asking you to get drunk, but just come out tonight. I don't want you sitting at home moping around."
Joshua's phone vibrates on the table. He picks it up and sees a message from you.
Goldie 12:13pm - Happy Anniversary.
He truly thought he wouldn't hear from you at all today. He doesn't expect you to call or anything, but he's glad you at least sent him a text.
"Whose texting you?"
Joshua sits the phone down on the table. "Goldie."
"You still call your wife her nickname?" For as long as Jeonghan has know Joshua, he's rarely ever heard him call you by your actual name.
"She's bright like a marigold."
"Your favorite flowers are white roses, I'm still shocked you don't call her Rosie."
Joshua grabs his phone and opens his text.
Shua 12:21pm: I miss you.
"Shua, just go to the bar tonight with me and Cheol."
He just stares at his text you. He can't bring himself to sit in the homes shared, during this anniversary you'll be apart.
"I'll go out tonight."
IS THIS AN ILLUSION?
The sight of you standing right outside the entrance of the flower shop doesn't feel real. Joshua rubs his eyes unsure if this is actually real. It's taking everything in him not to rush the few feet towards you. The closer he gets he realizes you're eyes are glossy and that have been crying.
"Goldie?"
You look up at him and give him a sad smile. "Hi, Shua."
He stood in front of you. He just takes a moment to fully look at you. He was starting to think he might not ever see you again.
"Why are you here?" He stops in front of you.
"I realize I'm miserable without you. I thought I needed to try and be independent, but I understand that's foolish."
Joshua glances around the quiet street. The is watercolors of pink and orange as it starts to rise. He doesn't want to have this conversation out on the street.
"Let's go inside and talk over some coffee." He fishes his key out of his pocket. Opening the door, he holds it open for you.
You look around the flower shop and smile at the site of the bundles of marigolds and white roses together.
"The marigolds are always there because of you." Back in the high school Joshua gave you a bouquet of marigolds and told you they remind him of you. He's called you Goldie since you were teens because of the vibrant flower.
"Are the white rose for you?" You pick a single stem white rose up.
"They're still my favorite flower." He says. “You know they represent new beginnings?”
“Yeah. You gave them to me after our first fight in high school.” You hope that the white rose can represent your future now.
He walks over to the small coffee shop. He turns on the espresso machine and gets to work making coffee for both of you.
This flower shop and cafe is something the two of you built together. This place was just as much yours as it was his before you left.
He tries to focus on making coffee, but he can only focus on you. He's watching you make your way around the flower shop, looking at all the flowers.
He brings over a small tray holding both your iced lattes. Walking over you sit down across to him at small table near the window.
You take a sip of the honey flavored latte. He made it exactly how you have always loved it. "I know I have messed up, am I hurt you."
"You were my first love, and you became my first heartbreak." He responds.
"I know. I broke both of our hearts." You'll never point any of the blame on your husband. Joshua has always been perfect to you. "I left because I never knew what it was like to be independent. I went from living under the guidance of my father, to being married. I've always had a man in my life helping me figure out how to live. I needed to try and be independent."
His brows knit together. "Did you think I was controlling?"
"No, not at all. I just needed space to try an discover who I am. I realized the whole time I was away that my life doesn't make sense without you."
Reaching for the glass you take another drink of your coffee. "I'm coming home. If you would like to continue our relationship, I would love that. I understand if you don't want to. I hurt you, and know that. I can stay with Seokmin and rent a room from him."
"You're crazy if you think I'm going to let you live with Seokmin. Since the moment you walked out of our home on that raining day, I have hoped and prayed that I would come home to me."
"Don't you hate me for hurting you?"
He reaches out taking your hand in his. "Goldie, I don't think I will fully ever understand why you left like you did. I always thought you knew you could talk to me and trust me. But I could never hate you. I just hated that you made me feel like I was just an afterthought." It's true, he's been heart broken since you left, but he's never hated you.
"Okay." Tears slowly start sliding down your cheeks. "I'm sorry I made you feel that way."
Reaching across the table he rest his hand on your cheek. He drags his hand across the delicate skin of your cheek, swiping away your tears. "Come home tonight. Let's have dinner and you can stay the night or you can go stay with Seokmin. The guest room is still set up."
"I would like that."
He wants to ask you a million questions. He wants to know what you've been up to, and where you have been living. He's pretty sure when you left you went and stayed with Seungkwan and his wife.
You both finish your lattes. Joshua is lucky you decided to show up after closing. He knows Jeonghan is going to show up soon to drag him to the bar.
"Did you want pasta tonight for dinner?" It's your anniversary and he would like to make your favorite meal.
"That would be nice."
He glances up when he sees Jeonghan unlocking the door and walking in. He didn't know if Jeonghan was coming in or going to call him. As a partial owner of the coffee shop in here, Jeonghan tends to come and go as he pleases here.
"Oh." Jeonghan says at the sight of you sitting with Joshua.
You turn and fully look at your husbands best friend. Joshua isn't aware that Jeonghan has been checking on you once a month since you left.
"Hi, Hannie."
Jeonghan shoves his hands into his jeans pockets. He looks at Joshua raising his brows. He's not fully sure what he just walked into to.
"Jeonghan, um Goldie is back." Joshua stands up.
"Welcome back, Goldie." Jeonghan tilts his head at you.
Jeonghan walks over and hands Joshua a bag. Joshua dismisses him and takes it to the back office. You're left alone with Jeonghan for a moment.
"When I asked you to come back last night. I didn't expect to see you at seven tonight." Jeonghan sits down where Joshua was sitting.
"I knew it was time to come home, your message was the push I needed." You pause staring at the man who had become your best friend as well. "I know you probably hate me, and we probably aren't friends anymore."
He knits his brows together. "I don't hate you, and we can still be friends. I'm just asking that you don't break his heart again."
Joshua walks back out holding the keys to the store. He gives you a gentle smile, before looking towards Jeonghan.
"I'll let Cheol know you can't come out tonight." Jeonghan stands up and grabs your empty coffee cups.
Joshua walks closer to you. Jeonghan walks away disposing of the cups.
"Are you ready to go home?" Joshua asks.
You stand up, glancing over you see Joshua holding out his hand. You don't even hesitate, you reach out lacing your fingers with his.
Walk out of the shop, Jeonghan leads the way. Joshua releases your hand just long enough to lock the door.
Jeonghan says goodbye and heads down the street towards the bar.
ALL THE MEMORIES WE’VE SHARED
Once you're both alone Joshua leads you towards his car. He unlocks it's and opens the passenger door for you.
"I didn't ask how you got here." Joshua pauses.
"Seokmin dropped me off."
You both get into the car. Joshua glances over and gives you a smile before he turns the car on. The drive the flower shop, to your home takes all of five minutes. Joshua parks the car in the driveway and you both get out.
Heading inside your shared home, it still looks like just the day you left. Over by the couch, your engagement and wedding photos are still hung. After you left your thought he would remove those photos.
You follow him as he heads off to the kitchen. He grabs a bottle of wine and pops it open. You stand by the sink watching as he moves around the kitchen. He pours to glasses of red wine. He grabs one, holding it out for you.
Taking the glass you hold it out. He grabs his own and raises it. "Happy anniversary."
You cheers your glasses before taking a sip of rich yet subtle flavor of blackberries in the wine.
"Happy anniversary," you respond.
"Take a seat and I'll make us your favorite pesto."
Walking over you sit down at the kitchen table. You sip on the rich wine, watching him move with ease around the kitchen. Cooking for you has always been apart of Joshua's love language with you.
It takes about thirty minutes before he sets down a delicious looking plate of pesto pasta.
He sits down across from you. There is about two minutes of silence before you both start making small talk.
"Do you remember when we're were home from college celebrating our anniversary and your mom almost walked in on us?" Joshua asks. You remember this night fully. You were both twenty and had been dating for four years at that point. You planned on getting a hotel for your anniversary, but weren't able to. Joshua thought it would be romantic if he snuck into your parents house in the middle of night. It turns out your were being too loud having sex and your mom was concerned you were hurt and came knocking on your luckily locked door.
"Yes. We were being so loud, my mom thought something hurt me and made me cry." If only she knew, your charming boyfriend was fucking you so good you couldn't shut up.
Through out dinner you keep talking about past memories. After another glass of wine you both work on cleaning up the kitchen. Joshua puts the last dish away as you finish your last drink of wine.
Joshua is standing there looking absolutely handsome. This dinner made you feel like everything was back to normal. It's making you realize you didn't destroy everything you built together, like you thought you did.
You've missed your husband desperately, and you never want to leave his side again.
Joshua walks closer to you. He stops right in front of you. He reaches out pushing your hair out of you face. He doesn't anything, he just stares at you for a moment.
Without thinking, you lean in crashing your lips into his. His hand grips your hip, pulling you flush against his body. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you deepen the kiss. The whole time you were gone, you craved this feeling. You told yourself over and over again, that you left to find yourself, but you couldn't push away the aching feeling in your chest. Every single day, you're apart you've missed your husband. Now that you're back you don't ever want to leave his side again.
Pulling back slightly, he rests his nose against yours. "Are you sure you want this?" He whispers.
"I just want to be with my husband again." His brows knit together for a moment. "Joshua, if you'll have me back, I wanna be yours."
Not another word was uttered before he crashes his lips into yours for a searing kiss. He walks you backwards until your back hits the wall with a thud.
He pulls away smiling. His smile sends a fluttering storm of butterflies into your stomach. "Baby, you've alway been mine. Even when you made me feel like an afterthought. You were always mine." He says before kissing you again.
Reaching for his belt, without thinking you start unbuckling it. He stares at you with a look of awe. You fumble, as your work on unbuckling his pants. You push his jeans down below his butt, and pull out his already hardening length. Your eyes lock on his, as your slowly pump his length.
You give him a smile, before dropping to your knees in front of him. You start off by holding, his length while you slowly took his rosy colored tip. He threads his fingers through your hair, holding it away from your face. Hallowing your cheeks you take his length into your mouth. Bobbing your head you slide your tongue against the vein that runs along the underside of his cock.
Joshua's eyes are closed, and his lips are parted. It's taking everything in him not to guide your movements. He's just letting your set your own pace. God he's missed the feeling of your mouth.
"Goldie." He lets out a breathy moan.
Looking up through your lashes, your eyes lock with his. He looks beautiful as he's on the edge of falling apart.
One hand rest on his thigh, while the other reach down to play with his balls.
"Baby, I'm close." You love how desperate he sounds.
Hallowing your cheeks you take him into your throat. He shakes his head and pulls away from you.
Sitting back on your heels you look up at him, confused.
"Baby, our first time together in months I refuse to finish the first time in your mouth." He reaches down, helping you stand up.
He leans down pressing his lips to yours for a quick kiss. "Let's move to our bedroom."
Laying on top of the same comforter you spent hours shopping dragging Joshua around on a sunny June afternoon. Pushing yourself up on your elbows you watch as Joshua starts stripping away this clothes. He's still absolutely beautiful.
It's been so long since you've been intimate. Joshua is the only man you've ever been with, and you never want another man touch you like he does.
He sits his knee on the bed and starts crawling towards you. He sits on his heels between your spread legs. Leaning down he places a kiss on your knee.
"I'm going to eat you out." He lays down on his stomach, with your needy pussy right in front of his face. He starts by kissing the top of your mound. He spreads your lips and with his fat tongue he licks your puffy clit.
"Oh—" you instantly moan.
"You taste just as sweet as I remember."
He dives into your core like a man starved. He practically makes out with your clit, switching between licking and sucking as he pumps two fingers in and out of you.
Your fingers tangle in his hair, holding him close to your core. Without thinking your lift your hips pushing your pussy closer to his face.
"Shua—" You moan.
He curves his fingers up, touching that spot inside you, that leaves you seeing stars. He sucks harder on your clit. Your orgasm hits you like a lightening strike. Everything tenses and then your whole body instantly relaxs. Your walls flutter around his fingers. You're body lies limp against the soft bed.
He pulls back smiling. His lips have a shine to them from your release. His tongue slides across his top lip, collecting some of your release.
Your eyes are squeezed shut letting the high wash over you. Joshua takes this time to slowly pull back. He moves back to his position, sitting on his knees between your spread legs. He pumps his painfully hard length, looking down at you.
Your eyes open and you find him staring down at you. He presses another gentle kiss to your knee.
"Do I need to get a condom?" He hasn't worn in a condom with you since you were in college together, but it's been so long since you were intimate he doesn't know if you want him to wear one. His large hand rests on your thigh, and rubs it slowly.
A smile tugs at your lips. "I'm still on birth control, and haven't even looked at another man other than you."
"Goldie—" he pauses and looks at you with his brows knit. "Baby, I've never been with anyone other then you. The whole time you were gone I never planned on moving on. I'm faithful to you."
"I didn't wasn't accusing you of anything. I just wanted you to know I was faithful to you too." You give him a smile. "Joshua I want to feel you fully raw again."
He moves closer to you. He takes his hard length in his hand, running it through your wet folds. A soft gasp passes your lips as the rosy mushroom tip bumps against your sensitive clit. He moves so he's hovering over you, while he rest on his knees. He pushes you inch by inch as painfully slow pace. It's been so long since you've had sex with anything other than your vibrator. It's going to take a moment for you to adjust to the size of your husband. The moment he's fully inside he stills, giving you a moment to adjust. Closing your eyes you tilt your head back. He reaches up resting his hand on your cheek.
"You okay?" Your eyes flutter open, and find him staring down at you.
"Yeah, I just need a minute. It's a been a while."
"Baby it's been seven long months since I have been inside you." He gives you that smile that always makes you feel weak in the knees.
"Shua, can you move?" Your reach up, tangling your fingers in his hair.
Without saying another word, he starts moving at a slow and deep pace. His body is practically plastered against you. One of yours hands is tangled in his hand and the others rest on his lower back. You can't get enough of him. Seven long months left you yearning for him.
His large length is filling you completey. He's so long you feel as if he's kissing your cervix with each deep thrust. The room is filled with echoing sounds of your whimpers and moans, and his deep moans. Resting his face in the crook of your neck, he leaves a wet trail of kisses, most definitely leaving marks in his wake.
"Baby you feel so good," he groans against your skin.
Spreading your legs wider for him, he's able to hit spots even deeper. Closing your eyes you focus on your rapidly approaching high. You let out a high pitched moan that sounds like his name. You're on the verge of falling apart.
"You're clenching." He groans. He knows your body inside and out. He's aware that you're on the brink of falling apart.
"You feel so good. You're so big." You're practically squirming, trying to push your hips up towards him.
"Baby you can come." He pulls his lips away from your skin.
You silently nod your head. Your whole body feels tense. The coiling in your stomach has your wound so tight, you're on the brink of exploding.
Joshua pulls away from your fully. You whine at the loss of him plastered against you. He sits on his knees between your spread legs. This position gives him. The ability to play with your clit. He picks up his pace, still going deep, but smacking his hips into yours hard. His hand rest on your mound, his thumb works on rubbing your sensitive clit. Your lips part, as a silent gasp passes.
Pushing yourself up on your elbows your watch what he's doing. It's absolutely toxicity watching as he plays with you.
"Fuck—" you whine.
"Come for me baby."
Silently you nod.
He pushes his hips into yours at quicker pace. Your orgasm feels like a tidal wave. The coil snaps in your stomach like it never had before. Your walls squeeze his massive length pushing him over the edge right behind you. He fills you to the brim with his milky white release. He's cum harder then he ever has.
He keeps thrusting into you with shallow thrust, helping you both ride out your high. Pulling out he watches as his thick cum slowly starts to leak out. Without thinking he drags two fingers through your folds helping to push his release back inside you.
"God I love you." He says.
"I love you too."
He kisses the top of your knee one last time before running off to the bathroom to get a warm cloth to clean you up.
Laying in bed with your husband feels surreal. There were many nights after you left you thought you lost him forever.
Laying in your side you stare him. He's laying on his side staring back. His hand rest on the bed between you. You're both still fully naked.
"Baby, I want my wife back."
"Why are you so willing to forgive me?" You can't push away the guilty feeling that's eating away at you.
"Because I love you, and I'm willing to understand why you left me." His words make you feel like your chest is being squeezed. "We can go slow. We can act like we're dating again, we have a guest room. One of us can sleep in there."
"Slow would be nice. Maybe we don't always sleep in separate rooms."
He smiles. "I'll do whatever you want. I just want you back."
"I'm back." You can't help but cry.
He reaches out pushing away your tears. "Don't cry, baby."
"I'm just worried. People probably hate me for hurting you."
He shakes his head. "No one can hate you. Sure some people don't understand, but no one hates you. Baby what other people think doesn't matter. All that matters is, I want you back, and I love you."
"I love you too."
Joshua moves closer. He crashes his lips into yours before pulling you into his arms. You know you messed up, but Joshua loves you, and wants to work on building your life together again. You hope one day maybe that guilty feeling will go away. But right now all that matters is that you love your husband, and he loves you.
synopsis: In your brain, men start to become Thing 1, Thing 2, Annoying Thing 3, Self Righteous Thing 4, and so forth. Throughout your college experience, your stringent standard, which practically was the 'bare minimum', you haven't found a single man to shock you. Until, you met this flustered, and surprisingly bulky nerd, named Choi Seungcheol, in an unexpected crowd.
pairing: nerd&gym rat!scoups x vice president!f.reader
genre: college au, smut, slight crack
word count(teaser): 1.5k
cw(teaser): mention of mingyu, not beta read gah!, nothing else major... if anything, lmk!
cw/tw(full): MDNI 18+ content, puppydom!scoups LMFAO thats all i can say right now idek myself
a/n: i feel like you guys can tell i'm still not over this scoups... its been months yo, and these pictures are literally my laptop wallpaper.. gulp guilty as charged i guess.... anyways any comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!! i want to hear your guys feedbacks and possible tips too. i just have this big picture of a puppy boy scoups so... hopefully u'll want to stay for the full piece hehe
one:
Men are so boring. They're all one note, as they made one niche thing their whole personality.
You never came across a man who truly piqued your interest. Or had a real personality, and emotional intelligence. It was either one or the other, and it really confused you. Where and why are these guys so hard to find? And why is asking for the bare minimum a crime?
You spent twenty-two years on this planet, and yet even your brother and father cease to disappoint you in how men behave.
With that determination in mind and your senior year cracking down, you're desperate to find one. To at least save yourself from wanting to beat up a man.
---
As the ambitious, and very social Vice President of the school's Student Government Association, commonly referred as SGA, you've familiarized yourself with a lot of other students. You would assume that at least one of the guys you've met would at least make you go 'wow.'
But... Here you are, standing in the local gym nearby campus. Your eyes scanned over your surroundings as that rubbery smell sent you back to your horrific high school gym class. You were unsure if a gym was the right place to search for a respectful and well-mannered guy, but you needed to try everything.
You shook your head in disbelief that you're really here, and going such lengths to search for a man.
A man. It gave you goosebumps at that thought.
You heard your name being called from behind you, a familiar tall and very bulky figure walked toward you.
Kim Mingyu, your dreadful President in SGA.
He spewed constant bullshit about how much he went to the gym, how much he worked out, and how much protein he ate in a day. So, he was your best bet to have a productive workout, and hopefully know someone.
"Hey! You know, I'd never expect you to actually want to go to the gym with me. Usually no one can keep up." Mingyu mused, chuckling to himself as he set his stuff down. He was the only gym-rat you'd actually be able to tolerate, but after that remark, you don't know so much...
"Uh-huh." You responded dryly, trying to pretend you care. Your eyes scanned the gym again, trying to find a new face.
"What are you looking for? Oh, and I was thinking about hitting arms today for myself." Mingyu rambled on, but you weren't listening. You never really were listening in the first place.
With the absent roll of words from Mingyu's mouth, the mixture of people moving around, and the hum of treadmills, you finally landed your eyes on this unfamiliar looking guy.
He was wearing this black tank, and a cap with his headphones on. His biceps looked like carved mountains by the goddess Gaia, as they tugged down on the lat bar.
When you heard Mingyu's lisp, you knew he was trying to get your attention.
"Huh?" You finally brought your eyes back to him, noticing how he's almost pouting but trying desperately to play it off.
"What?" You repeated, giving him an incredulous stare at his petulant attitude.
"I asked if you wanted to hit arms with me like four, five times." He mumbled, fussing with his newly permed hair. You had told him not to get it, he'd look like a mushroom if he did, but he refused to listen to you. Now he looked like a mushroom, and now he regretted not listening to you.
"Oh." You thought about it, you could approach that guy if you did arms.
"Yeah sure, that sounds like a great idea, Gyu." You answered, tying up your hair neatly.
You told Mingyu you'll be right back and you needed to stuff your duffle bag into a locker.
He gave you a side long stare before nodding.
"Okay... well, I'll be by the cable machine when you come back."
You watched him walk off and you made a beeline toward the locker rooms.
An unusually heavy sigh left your lips as you stared at the locker. Your master plan started to run through your mind and you couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous. Would he be like every other guy? Or would he be awkward and introverted, then you'd be the weird one? Or even maybe he'd be a pervert and start acting weird?
A brief reminder that Mingyu is waiting for you shook you out of your thoughts. You didn’t want him running rumors about your undiagnosed IBS right now, especially when you’re trying to seem approachable.
You finally landed eyes on Mingyu, biting his lower lip as he acted like he was pulling the heaviest weights in the world.
You tried to stifle back a laugh, but the amusement that glittered in your eyes was obvious.
He stopped his rep to weakly smile at you with crinkled eyes. Glinting that million dollar smile he always does at each conference.
"What?" You responded, trying not to sound breathless. Handsome men were always your weakness...
You were close with Mingyu, because you kind of had to, given you're his vice president. So seeing this gummy smile, that looked like it was reserved for someone special, was the usual for you.
"Nothing, you look stupid." You responded quickly, trying not to dwell on this conversation further. You had this grandiose dream you needed to execute.
Mingyu ignored your remark. He spotted that renewed energy blooming in your eyes, "What now? You have that scary look on your face."
You shook your head, trying to snap out of that brief fake conversation you just had in your head.
"What are you talking about? I always look driven to succeed, Gyu." You teased back.
He shook his head in disbelief, standing up to look in the direction you were. His eyes narrowed on the guy too, his bulging biceps as he pulled the lat bar down. You could see each muscle working when he pulled down the bar. You'd be lying if denied the fact you were practically drooling at the sight.
"Him? Seriously?" Mingyu whipped his eyes between you two, he stood slightly in front of you. His stupid gesticulating had you smacking his hands down.
"Stop it." You said behind clenched teeth, trying to be inconspicuous, "you're making it obvious!"
He audaciously laughed, shaking his head in disbelief.
Before you could scold him any further, he started walking straight towards that guy. You immediately panicked, your eyes widening.
"Gyu- no. Come back here!" You whisper-shouted, walking after him.
"Seungcheol!" Mingyu called out. He used his charming voice, that playful frat guy tone he used around guys. It kind of, just kind of, made him insufferable
The man you were just drooling over, looked up at Mingyu with a resting face.
Without the obstructing cap, you could see his features, and fucking hell, this guy was hot.
He wore specs, and behind those glasses, were a pair of stunning eyes with black, thick lashes framing them. A nose tall enough to do unimaginable things you shouldn't imagine when you first see a man. Full lips that make you wonder how they would feel under yours.
Fuck me. You thought, and here you stood, mouth ajar and stunned by this man's beauty. You prayed that maybe he'd be the man you were searching high and low for.
Mingyu was talking to him, but he was looking at you with that same stupid face. Lips parted and wide-eyed. In your honest, and very humble opinion, he looked much more attractive than you at that moment.
“Anyways, Seungcheol, this is my vice president—” Mingyu had started, but his low voice cut him off.
“I know her.”
Three words shut the both of you up, and now you and Mingyu share that same stunned face.
“Y-you do?” You asked, sounding more stupider than you anticipated.
“Yeah.” He responded, looking back and forth between you and Mingyu.
Both of you two started talking at the same time, and face palm at the same time. Seungcheol blinked, like he was seeing double.
“Well, um. It was nice to meet you Seungcheol, I'll probably see you around campus, yeah?” You prompted, praying that this first impression won't make him think anything bad of you.
He simply nodded. Nodded. A shaky exhale left your lips, a tight smile forming on your face.
“Okay, I'll see you around.” Your voice wavered, and as soon as you turned around, you grimaced.
When you two walked back, Mingyu smacked the shit out of your shoulder, your body almost tumbling forward. Sometimes he, and you, forget he's strong. But you two are equally as embarrassed, stumbling and walking away with your head in your hands.
“Fuck off. Shut up, I don't want to hear a single word of your mouth.” You gritted out, elbowing his ribs.
He yelped in pain, backing up. “Okay, in my defense, I've never seen you so flustered by a man.”
Those words sink inside your gut. Flustered? No fucking way.
“God forbid a girl gets anxious! Gyu— my god— Gyu, you didn't give me time to prepare!” Your hands flew up, trying to defend yourself.
He snorted, “Sure, it was my fault then.” He patted you back, and you smacked his forearm away.
“Let's just workout.” You exhaled, pinching your nose bridge.
a/n: thank you for reading the teaser! follow me for updates!! (if you are wondering where the taglist went, you've missed the time frame for it!! thank you for all the support!!)
✿ fake dating the most popular boy in your college class is hard enough, but it becomes even harder when you have to start telling yourself you "don't care" about what he does.
STARRING ✿ yoon jeonghan x fem!reader
WARNINGS & TROPES ✿ fake dating, popular x nerd, jeonghan's a tease, reader becomes jealous, romantic tension, hate-love relationship (let's be real tho...they love each other), reader refers to jeonghan as pretty, they almost kiss!!
LYR SPEAKS ✿ been working my two jobs back-to-back last week and i'm so drained it's so bad 😭 the desire to write is SO hard for me to come by and i stare at my blogs and just sigh because i know i need to write but i just can't.....
LYR PLAYS ✿ don't care - temporex
WORD COUNT & WRITING FOR ✿ 635 ; @k-records
"what if i went on a date?"
the question comes out of left field, and your eyes fly up from your chemistry book to jeonghan's face. he currently sits in front of his vanity, sweater slightly askew on his shoulders as he brushes his hair.
"a date?" you repeat slowly, unable to believe the words coming from your mouth. "but...you're dating me?"
"not really." he puts emphasis on the really, a smirk ghosting his soft lips as he turns to face you. "this is just an arrangement between us, remember? you take care of the science part of my major, and in return i pretend to be your boyfriend so you can brag to your family and friends that the cute nerd isn't single anymore."
the words aren't new to you, but they sting nevertheless. jeonghan and you had made the deal at the beginning of the year, and both of you had made good on your promises: you did his work and tests when required of you, and he pretended to be your boyfriend around your nosy family and friends.
"i know the..." you trail off, cheeks burning with embarrassment as you continue moments later. "...arrangement we made, but still. you can't just..."
"just what? go on a dinner date with someone tonight at 7?" jeonghan throws the question out flippantly, curling iron in hand as he curls his bangs.
"what? you already made plans?" you question, and jeonghan turns around, pretty eyes twinkling with mischief as he shrugs. "let's say i'm hypothetically speaking here."
you roll your eyes, stomach clenching with something you don't dare mention. it creeps up on you slowly, heart starting to sink with the growing notion that jeonghan does have a date with someone other than you. someone more popular, more pretty, more outgoing—
"you know, our relationship isn't going to look believable if you're going on a date with someone else while we claim to be together. you really want to keep feeding into the playboy rumor?" you move to the edge of the bed, watching the way jeonghan's eyes flick from his reflection in the mirror to you behind him.
"and what does it matter to you?" he stands up, leaving his place in front of the mirror and approaching you. he hovers just inches away from your spot on the edge of the bed, cologne just heavy enough to drift in front of you.
jeonghan's brown eyes are glued to your face, searching your own expression for any cracks. his pretty face sends a flutter to your stomach, but it does nothing to cure the sickening feeling that's spreading throughout your body.
"you're not jealous, are you?" jeonghan smirks, crossing his arms in front of his chest. you stand up at his words, crossing the distance between you two—now, the two of you stand just millimeters apart, bodies tense and the air around you two even more tense.
"and what if i am, jeonghan?"
you fall silent after that, and you notice the way jeonghan's eyebrows kick up in slight surprise. a blush comes to his cheeks in a way that shocks you into a blushed silence yourself, and the two of you find yourself leaning in before either of you realize it.
and then—all of it stops. the two of you lock eyes, realizing just how close you two are to kissing, and scramble a few feet back like you both just got burned by the other.
"i'm not going on a date with anyone." jeonghan says quickly, almost tripping over himself in stepping away from you. "i was just teasing you."
"o-of course you were." you mumble, voice shaky from embarrassment and the realization that you almost kissed the boy who you swore is just a fake boyfriend and nothing more.
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˙⋆✮ 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected p in v, creampie, big dick minghao, minghao practically has a tentacle for a dick, alien sex, handjob, fingering, oral (m rec), cum eating, squirting, body worship, pussy stretching, deep throating, hair pulling, minghao’s antennas are sensitive, overstimulation, Nicknames: nova, good girl (hers) baby, hao (his).
˙⋆✮ 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 18+ nsfw
˙⋆✮ 𝐚𝐧: this is connected to my wonwoo alien story called “Dreaming of Saturn”. im gonna make a little connecting universe with some of the to other boys called stardust. Thank you @aeristudios for listening to me figure out my little alien universe. Thank you @haologram for being my 8star and helping me figure out this one. Thank you @supi-wupi for beta reading this.
🎧: saturn - sza | kiss of fire - woodz | sour candy - woodz
Wonwoo’s arrival back on Saturn caused quite the uproar. His refusal to go through with his arranged marriage sparked controversy. He came back threatening to leave the moment he got a chance. He swore off his future place as king saying the only thing he wanted was his starlight.
Minghao has been Wonwoo’s close friend and adviser for as long as he can remember. Upon his return Wonwoo begged Minghao to go to earth and watch after his love.
Minghao left in the middle of the night, the only person who knew about his departure being Wonwoo.
The stars were bright as Minghao traveled for a long time. He felt a calling to the city where Wonwoo said his love was.
GROWING INTOXICATED BY THE SILENCE
It’s another late night you’re spending laying on a blanket looking up at the stars. Your attempt at a fresh start, led you to move to a new city completely alone. You've spent most nights like this since moving here.
It’s almost two in the morning. You’ve lost track of time laying here. Looking up at the night sky there was a light falling towards you. You’ve spent your whole life studying the stars and you’ve never seen anything look like this before.
It looks like it’s crashed down on the other side of the trees off in the distance. Pushing yourself off the ground you stare into the distance for a moment. Without thinking you took off running through the grass.
The spring air has a chill to it as you run as fast as you can. Pushing past low hanging trees you find a dent in the ground that’s glowing. Walking towards the edge you find the source of the light. Lying there is a very beautiful man with skin that has a lavender hue to it. Your eyes are wide as they wander his body. It’s clear he’s very naked lying in front of you.
He groans as he sits up. He looks over at you and smiles. His eyes focus on nothing but you.
You’re at a complete loss for words. You’ve always had an idea there were other things out there in space. There is no way earth is the only planet with life on it.
“Who are you?” He finally speaks.
“Where did you come from?” You don’t even bother answering his question.
“Saturn. Is this earth?” He stands up slowly.
“Yes.”
“What is your name?” You step a little closer to him. For some reason you feel safe being near him.
“Minghao. You may call me Hao if you would like. What is your name?”
“It’s ___.”
“You remind me of a beautiful super nova.” You weren’t expecting an alien to start flirting with you. A hot wave of blush creeps over you.
“Why are you here?” You’re very confused on why he decided to crash land here.
“I have been sent to check on my prince’s soulmate.”
“Soulmate?”
“Yes, his soulmate.” He starts to brush off the dirt from his body. He looks up back at you again. “Prince Wonwoo, ran away to earth and found his soulmate here. He refers to her as starlight.”
Without thinking you hold out your hand. The moment your fingers touch you feel a spark. He feels it touch, but doesn’t say anything. He just laces his fingers with yours.
“Do you all have soulmates?”
“I believe so.”
You lead him out through the trees back to the blanket you left in the distance. You’re extremely happy you’re extremely far away from where anyone would see you and your new very naked alien friend. The fact that it’s also dark and the dead of night, also is helping.
You stop right at the pink fuzzy blanket. He looks down at it for a second before looking back at you.
He stands before you studying you. He reaches out resting his hand under your chin. “You’re beautiful. The prettiest creature I have ever seen.”
“I didn’t know aliens know how to flirt.”
He lets out a soft laugh. “My kind is very similar to your people.” He tilted your head up towards him. “Our bodies seem to be similar as well.”
“Men from here don’t have—“ you pause. “Um, cocks that big.” Your statement earns a smile from him.
“That’s a shame for anyone who chooses to mate with men from here.” He drags his thumb across your bottom lip.
“Are you always naked on saturn?”
“No, my clothes burned off entering your atmosphere.”
“How do you know my body is similar to the women on your planet?” You could easily drop this conversation or play with fire. You decide maybe playing with fire could be fun.
He leans in close to you, his nose brushes against yours. “I’m just assuming from what I can see with your clothes on.”
You aren’t sure what possessed you to do this, but you step back and pull off your hoodie and baggy shirt. Thank god you decided not to wear a bra tonight. You’re completely bare from the waist up standing in front of your new alien friend.
“Do your women have breasts?”
“Yes they do, their breasts are extremely sensitive. Most women find ecstasy from playing with their nipples. Do humans do the same?”
“Some women can.” You push your chest out hoping he’ll take the sign to touch you.
“Can you?” He steps closer.
“Yes.”
“It feels as if I’m being drawn to you.”
You take his hand, resting it on one of your breasts. “I feel it too.”
“Would you like for me to touch you, like my kind does when they mate?”
“Please.”
His hand massages your breasts. His eyes stay locked on yours as his fingers toy with your pebbled nipple. A soft gasp passes your lips as he applies more pressure.
“Can I taste you?” He asked leaning in so his lips are practically touching yours.
“Please.”
The moment your lips touch, you feel a spark. Your body feels alive. He feels like oxygen in your lungs. Your lips move together for a searing kiss. You wrap yours around his neck pulling his tall frame close to yours.
Kissing him is like nothing you’ve ever experienced. You could do this every day for the rest of your life. His hands rest on your hips holding you close to him. One hand slides down to your sweat pants cover butt. He squeezes your butt, causing you to moan into his mouth.
“I would like to taste more of you.”
“You can have any part of me, you would like.” He steps back and drops to his knees. His finger hooks into the band of your sweatpants. He drags them down your thighs, leaving you in only your boyshort panties.
“May I remove these?” He hooks his finger into the elastic of your panties and snaps it, earning a gasp from you.
“Yes.”
He slides them down your thighs leaving you bare except for your socks. Leaning in he leaves a trail of wet kisses from your navel down to your pussy. Your eyes stay locked on him, watching his every movement.
“Can you lay down for me?” Silently you follow his request.
Laying in your back with your legs spread he takes his time exploring your wet core. His finger prod at your entrance as his tongue laps at your sensitive clit. He slowly slides one finger in your. He runs it along your gummy walls. It doesn’t take him long to find that spot inside of you, that has you seeing stars.
He slides in a second finger. Based on the size of his dick, you know you’re going to need to come at least once, to be wet enough to take him, without him splitting you open.
He pulls away from your clit and says, “you sound so pretty.”
Closing your eyes you roll your head back. A loud moan passes your lips. This man had never met a human woman before, and he already had you on the verge of falling apart.
Your fingers grip the blanket before below you, you desperately need something to cling to. Your eyes pop open and you’re greeted to the site of millions of bright stars above you.
Your orgasm hits you like a wave. It knocks the air of your lungs as it pulls you away. “Hao—“ his name is nothing more than a desperate plea.
He does stop, he continues sucking on your clit, and rubbing the spot inside of you, as your walls contract around his fingers.
He pulls away slowly, his eyes staying locked on you. He brings his fingers to his mouth, licking your release off of them.
“My sweet beautiful super nova.”
Your chest rises and falls as your high slowly starts to dissipate. No man has ever made him come that hard before.
He moves so he’s sitting on his knees between your spread legs. “That was insane.” You sigh.
“Thank you for letting me explore your body.” You almost laugh at his thank you. If he wants to take the time to explore your body again, you would let him in a heartbeat.
“Would you like to learn about my body?”
“God yes.” You practically scream, pushing yourself up on your hands.
Minghao moves so he’s laying on the fuzzy blanket. With your practically jello legs you move yourself on top of him. Sitting on his thighs you take your time exploring his body. His anatomy is very similar to humans outside of his antennas sticking out of his hair, and cock that you would basically consider a tentacle. It’s probably around ten inches with ridges in the the side. It sways as if it’s moving on its own.
“You can touch me however you would like.”
Reaching out your hand along his length.
“You’re massive.” You decide the best course of action is to give him a hand job like you would a normal man. You keep pumping his length. You start to focus on the base and watch as the tip moves side to side, almost as if its reaction to your movements.
“Can I taste you?” Now it’s your turn to ask for a taste.
“Women on my planet don’t normally do that, unless they’re bonded.”
“If you don’t want me to, I won’t. If it’s something you only do with someone you’re bonded to.”
He shakes his head rapidly. “I would like you to do it.”
Laying on your stomach you focus on licking the mushroom shaped head. You stare at him trying to gauge his reaction to everything you do. You take him into your mouth until he brushes the back of your throat. There is no way all of his length can fit in your mouth, but you’re willing to try and fit as much as you possibly can. His fingers grip the fuzzy blanket below him. His stomach muscles tense as your fingers circle the base of his tentacle. You twist your hand applying pressure. Your hand moves up and down taking his length over and over to the back of your throat.
“Nova—” He moans.
You pull off of him, a string of what looks like a mixture of lube, and saliva is connected to his tentacle cock and your lip. It’s clear his length produces a lubricant as he gets aroused.
“Don’t like this?” You start pining his length as you stare at him.
“Yes—“
Leaning down you take his length in your mouth again. You swallow him until part of his length slides into your throat. His fingers tangle in your hair. He’s lost his patience as he helps guide you up and down his length.
A series of moans leaves his lips. Looking up at him through your lashes you can tell he’s close to the edge. I’m pulling off his length, you pump the top part with your hand. You apply pressure to the bulbous tip.
“You sound so pretty.” You sound dazed, and drunk on lust.
His stomach muscles tense and a loud moan passes his lip. His release spills all over your hand. He comes just like a normal man, but there is definitely way more. You’ve never been interested intasting a man’s cum, but you’re instantly intrigued by his. His eyes focus on you as you bring it up to your lips. It feels like normal cum, it just has a blue tint to it. The closer your hand gets to your nose, you can smell how sweet it is. Without thinking to lick the side of your hand. It’s the texture of regular cum, but it’s sweet like juicy green muscat grapes. You lick it fully off your hand.
“How do you want me?”
Looking down, his cock is still very much aroused and swaying side to side. It’s coated in what looks like lube.
“On your back.”
You crawl off of him and lay down on the blanket beside him. He leans over and presses his lips to yours for a heated kiss. Pulling away he tugs on your bottom lip.
He moves so he’s hovering over you. Leaning down he rubs his nose against yours. “My sweet super nova.”
“Minghao please.” You’re desperate for something you can’t quite explain.
He lets his tentacle-like cock move on its own. The mushroom tip, taps your clit earning a moan from you. “Hao—“
“My name sounds so pretty falling from your lips.” He smiles.
He taps your clit again, earning a louder moan. Your fingers grip the sheet below you.
“You’re people’s mating is the same as ours.”
“Are you going to mate with me?” You reach up, tangling your fingers in his dark hair, pulling him closer to you.
“Do you want me to mate with you?”
“God yes.”
On its own accord his length moves until it brushes your wet entrance. “You’re so pretty, laying here below me.”
You stare up at him in awe. The night sky looks so bright above him. There is this feeling in your chest, it’s not just lust. You feel something strong for this man you’ve just met.
“Minghao?”
“Yes my sweet nova?”
“Do you feel something in your chest?”
He pushes into you slowly. His eyes stay locked on yours. Your lips part as a gasp falls past your lips. He’s by far the largest man you’ve ever taken before. The stretch is kind of painful, but more than anything it’s intoxicating.
“I believe we’re feeling the connection Wonwoo felt with his starlight.”
He pulls his hips back, leaving just the mushroom tip inside of you, before pushing back into you at a slow pace.
Thank god his cock became self lubricating, it’s helping ease the pain with each thrust. Each passing moment the discomfort starts turning into pleasure.
“You’re so big.” You whine.
“You’re just tight.” He pushes into you a little quicker.
Your fingers claw at his back pulling him closer to you. One hand tangles in his long hair without thinking you toy with his antenna. A low moan passes his lips. You instantly realize his antennas must be sensitive.
“Is that okay?” You run your fingers up the antenna.
“Yes.” He moans.
He rolls his hips into yours over and over again. With each thrust the coil in your stomach tightens. Your whole body feels like a live wire. Each thrust sends a tingly feeling across your body.
“I’m close—“ You moan.
Your walls contract around his length as your high hits. Your finger grip the blanket below. Squeezing your eyes shut, you moan his name like a prayer. He's awestruck at the sight of you unraveling below him. He’s never seen anything in his life as beautiful as you.
He never stops moving. Each thrust is helping you ride out your high. Your fingers roam his back wanting to touch every part of him. You don’t think you can ever be with another man after this. You should be exhausted and worn out, but you aren’t. Being with him is making you feel feral and incredibly horny for more. You want anything and everything he’ll possibly give you.
Pushing on his chest he pauses for a moment. “Lay on your back. I want to ride you.”
He rolls you both effortlessly. You're sitting on his length with him snugly inside of you. Your hands rest on his chest for leverage. Lifting your hips you leave only the tip inside. You drop down quickly. You try to set a quicker pace. The feeling of the ridges along his length rubbing against your gummy walls is insane. His cock is like an expensive sex toy. The stretch feels incredible now.
You grab his hand and move it towards your wet core. You release it and point to your puffy clit. “Play with this spot. If you play with my clit I’ll come immediately again.”
He instantly does as instructed. It’s very clear that Minghao is a quick learner. He listens to the noises you make, and focuses on your reaction as he tests out different motions and pressures.
“Like that.” You cry.
“So good for me.”
Your second orgasm hits you like a white hot tidal wave. Your eyes squeeze shut as you roll your head back. The flood gates open as a pressure like you never experienced releases from you. Minghao can’t help but smile as you squirt all over him. This is like nothing he’s ever experienced before.
The intoxicating sounds that keep making are pushing him closer and closer to the edge. He pushes himself up. His hands grab the flesh of your ass and he helps keep you moving up and down his length.
“Minghao—“
Your eyes slowly open and you see the night sky above you. “My perfect mate.” He moans.
One of his hands gropes your breast. His fingers toy with your pebbles nipple.
Your orgasm slowly starts to dissipate. You roll your hips forward, earning a moan from him.
His own orgasm is like nothing he’s ever experienced before. His whole body feels tingly as he fills you to the brim with his sticky sweet blue release. His eyes practically roll back in his head. He’s never cum this much in his entire life. He’s never experienced sex like this before, neither have you.
Without saying a word you fall forward, laying on top of him. “If I weigh too much I can move.” You whisper with your lips against his neck.
“You weigh nothing to me.” He sighs as he gently rubs your back.
“I can’t believe I just fucked an alien I just middle in the middle of a field.” This is something that doesn’t feel real.
“We just mated. I wouldn’t call that something crude like that.” He seems offended by your statement.
“I mated with someone I didn’t know before now.”
He presses his lips to your bare shoulder. “Does your chest still feel strange?”
“It feels warm.”
“It’s your bond you feel for me. I think my kind, and humans from here are supposed to be connected.”
“Your prince Wonwoo felt this for a human girl?”
“Yes.”
“Nova, would you come back to Saturn with me?”
“You just met me tonight.” You just met him, but you feel like you’ve known him forever. You should tell him he’s crazy, but can’t. You can’t lie, you want to go with him.
“We could easily love each other.” That simple sentence lingers in your mind.
“We should probably go up to my place. The sun is starting to rise, and I don’t need people finding us naked out here.”
You give Minghao your hoodie to help cover most of his face, or to make it a little difficult for people to see his lavender skin. You give him the blanket to wrap around his body as you get dressed. The walk to your apartment building isn’t too far. You just hope you don’t run into anyone.
Walking into your small one bedroom apartment Minghao clings to your hand. You lead him off to your bedroom. You release his hand and you search for some sweatpants and clothes your ex left behind.
Minghao gets dressed and sits down on the edge of the bed.
“I must find and check on Wonwoo’s starlight. May I return to you?”
“Yes. Minghao, can you disguise yourself?”
“Yes I can.” He closes his eyes and focuses for a moment, and suddenly the lavender disappears, and his antennas are tucked away in his hair. Standing in front of you, he just looks like a normal human man.
MY HEAD IS FILLED WITH THE IMAGINE OF YOU
Wonwoo told Minghao where to find his love. He wasted no time going there and checking on her. The whole time Minghao was gone, you couldn’t help but think about him.
You went about your day working on your research project for the astrological center. You spent your whole life studying the stars and now it suddenly feels as if you have your own.
Minghao arrives back at nightfall. Opening your apartment door you find him standing there. There was a part of you that was worried he wouldn’t return.
“Wonwoo’s starlight is safe. She looked as if she could be happy.” You’ve just met Minghao and you’re now fully understanding how this girl he refers to as starlight fell in love with the prince of Saturn. You barely know Minghao and you feel like you’re falling in love with him.
“May I stay the night here?”
You bring Minghao into the kitchen and make him something to eat. You aren’t sure if aliens eat human food. You watch as he devours the ramen you made him. There is something so enduring watching him discover little things.
You go about your nightly routine and practically have Minghao as your shadow. He sits in the bathroom watching you wash your face, and brush your teeth.
Walking into your room he stands there watching you remove your clothes for the day. You contemplate putting on pajamas but realize he’s probably going to sleep naked.
“Should I just stay naked?” You ask looking over your shoulder.
“If you’re more comfortable that way. I would prefer to sleep that way.” He moves so he’s sitting on the edge of your bed.
Stripping away your clothes, you feel Minghao’s eyes on you. Turning around you face him completely naked. He stands and starts to remove the clothes you’ve lent him.
Crawling into bed you watch as Minghao makes his way around your room. He lets his disguise fade away, and he’s now back to his lavender tinted skin, and his antennas are sticking out of his hair.
He lays down next to you. He gives you a soft smile. Reaching out he pushes hair away from your face. “You truly are the most beautiful creature I have ever met.”
Move so you’re laying closer to him. You want to cuddle with him, but you aren’t sure if he’s comfortable with that.
“May I hold you?”
“Yes.” You turn around so he’s pressed up against your back.
“Minghao, have you ever had a girlfriend?” This question was eating away you, all day while he was gone.
“On Saturn we don’t exactly court before marriage. Our emotions are interesting. You’re married very early on, and if you find your soulmate, you feel this instant connection. You love them instantly and fiercely.” He holds you close to him. His hand is resting in your stomach.
“Am I your soulmate?” You didn’t believe in soulmates until you met him today. You can’t explain the feeling you have of being pulled to him.
“I believe so.” He presses a kiss to your bare shoulder. “Did you want to be my soulmate?”
You pause taking in his words. “I do.”
His hand kneads the soft flesh of your stomach. Normally if another man did this you would feel self conscious, but you don’t feel that way with Minghao.
Silence takes over the room as you enjoy each other's company. His hand slowly moves down resting on your mound. His fingers are so close to your clit, you can almost feel them. He presses another kiss to your shoulder.
“Minghao, please touch me.”
“As you wish.” His fingers slide between your already wet folds. Before Minghao you never thought you had a high sex drive, but with him you can’t seem to get enough of him. His long index finger rubs your clit earning a soft moan from you.
“Is this where you are most sensitive?”
“Yes.” You moan louder as he applies more pressure.
“Your sweet moans are music to my ears.” You push your hips back against his. You can feel him start to harden against your butt.
“Hao- please- inside—“ You plead for some type of penetration.
His fingers slide through your folds. The palm of his hand rubs against your clit. He dips two fingers into your wet core. You wince a little at the feeling. You’re a little sore from your rendezvous under the stars. Your body will have to get used to taking his massive tentacle.
His fingers slowly pump in and out of you, he’s running his fingers along that spot inside of you that had you seeing stars.
“Hao—” his name is just a broken moan.
“You feel so good.” He moans against your ear.
The hill of his palm is rubbing your clit giving you a dual sensation of pleasure. The room is filled with the sounds of your echoing pants and moans.
“I’m close.”
“Let go, my super nova.”
Your orgasm it’s your with a white wave. All your muscles tense and then slowly release. Your walls flutter around his fingers. He pulls them away from your pulsing core. He brings fingers to his mouth and licks them clean.
You pull away from him slowly. You move so you’re laying on your side next to him. He’s laying on his back watching you carefully. Pulling the blanket away, you find him fully hard. His tentacle sways side to side on its own.
You don’t have it in you to blow him, or try to deep throat him. Wrapping your fingers around his thick length you start to pump it. With each pass of your hand, it grows more and more wet as he starts to self lubricate himself. The ridges against your hand feel a little funny. You can’t believe you managed to basically take his whole monstrous size. No wonder you’re sore today.
You start to focus on the bulbus head, noticing Minghao stomach muscles tense more and more each time you touch there.
“Is this good?” You say with faux innocence.
“So good, I’m so close—”
You pick up the pace, hoping he’ll find his release soon. Leaning down you lick the mushroom tip like it’s a lollipop. You keep pumping lower on his length.
“Fuck— I’m gonna—“ he can barely moan out a warning.
Before you can even think about pulling away, he paints your tongue with his sweet blue release. You decide to save yourself from cleaning up a mess by sucking on the tip as he comes in your mouth. His fingers grip the sheets below him as he fights with himself to not tangle his fingers in your hair.
He comes more than any man you have ever been with before. You pull away and give him a smile after swallowing all his cum. You crawl off the bed long enough to clean the little bit that landed on you hand.
He lays on your bed absolutely dazed as you wipe away his release from his tentacle.
Crawling back in bed you curl up against him. Laying with your head on his chest you feel him start to slowly come down from his high. You smile as his cock slowly stops moving and starts to rest on his stomach. His anatomy is fascinating to you. He pulls you closer to him, so you’re basically laying on top of him. Your leg is thrown over his stomach. His hand starts running up and down your thigh.
“I’m so glad I met you.”
“I’m glad I came here for Prince Wonwoo.”
“You’ll have to thank him for me.”
“Will you come back to Saturn with me?” You both know this is an insane asks. You literally met him less than twenty-four hours ago. Minghao doesn’t really think, he just asks.
“Do we even breathe the same air?”
“Yes. My ship is just outside your atmosphere. I can safely take you back.”
“Hao, you barely know me.” You pull away slightly, before you pull away fully.
Minghao grabs you, pulling you onto his lap. He moves so he’s sitting you facing him.
He shakes his head, leaning in closer to you. “I may barely know you, but I feel a connection to you. We could come back here one day to visit. I’m sure Wonwoo will come back for his love. I could bring you with us.”
He takes your face in both hands. “Hao. What if you grow tired of me? What if you get to know me and realize we just have a sexual connection?”
He shakes his head. “The connection I feel for you already lets me know I’ll never grow tired of you.”
“This is crazy. I didn’t know aliens were real yesterday, and now you’re asking me to come to your planet with you.”
“If you don’t like it, I can bring you back. I want to give us a real shot. I can’t stay here for almost a year like Wonwoo did.”
You should tell him you can’t, but there is this crazy part of you that wants to go. It’s insane to walk away from everything. Luckily for you, your apartment is paid for, for a year. You could disappear for a while and still come back and be okay.
“Can we visit here?”
“Yes, my love.”
“Minghao, promise me you won’t grow tired of me.”
He gives you a smile before leaning forward. He rested his nose against yours. “I’ll never grow tired of you.”
“I’ll go back with you.”
The smile that forms on his face is like nothing you’ll ever forget. He leans forward, crashing his lips into yours. Your fingers tangle in his hair holding him close to you.
This whole situation is unexpected, but maybe the reason you’ve never felt satisfied with a relationship is because your soulmate was out there in the universe waiting for you.
summary: After a fight with your boyfriend, you visit the flower shop that he’s a regular at, although you’re not entirely sure what your purpose is. Coincidentally, the flower shop becomes the very reason you can save your relationship from falling apart
wc: 3,937
tags: non-idol au, first blooms collab, tension, first fight, first reconciliation, it’s very tense, angst with a happy ending, fluff at the ending, light pda
a/n: so excited to be sharing my fic for the first blooms collab by @svthub! make sure to check the other fics as well, you're going to have a blast <3
You had no idea what you were going to get yourself into.
Tucked away underneath an umbrella, you stared at the sign on the shop window. Minghao was always the one decorating your place with flowers, always knowing exactly what would fit the season, the scenery, even your mood.
Now you had to do it yourself because your flowers were dying in your windowsill. Minghao wouldn’t be around to save them anytime soon. You never had much with flowers, but he loved it so you let him go crazy.
And honestly? Everything he put in there was gorgeous.
The thought tightened your chest. You nearly turned around and went home crying, but you pushed through the doors anyway.
You closed your umbrella and left it in the holder with the others. The smell of fresh flowers was all around you, and you recognised the daisies that were on your right. Observing them closely, tears welled in your eyes.
A stupid argument had completely escalated. An argument that you had a thousand times before, that led to nowhere, had made everything worse. When you thought about the way you started screaming at each other, the air punched out of your lungs. You’d never seen Minghao angry before – irritated at best – but you had ticked him off so badly that the vein in his neck visibly pulsed. The entire apartment complex could hear him, even though he switched to Chinese every few sentences.
Since that night, you hadn’t seen or spoken to him anymore. That was now two weeks ago and you were in a flower shop, looking as lost as you were. You were still not sure whether you were truly there to replace your dying flowers or if you didn’t know where else to go.
Strolling past the displays, you stopped in front of a bouquet of roses.
Minghao had often talked about them. Especially the pink and white flowers had always appealed to him and you’d never been able to pinpoint why. Just like many of his preferences, the mystery had left you wanting to know more. When you asked, you expected a very specific answer, something direct and tangible.
More often than not, he told you that some things didn’t need an explanation. It was a feeling you had and it left you with more questions than answers. You wanted things figured out, while Minghao was someone who could wait and see how things would go. ‘Go with the flow’, as he would’ve told you.
His flow didn’t exactly bring him back to you yet.
You headed into the back of the shop. Lavender, something you absolutely hated no matter how many times Minghao tried to introduce it to you. The smell was overbearing and overwhelming.
You turned back around, bumping right into a guy, guessing him to be around your age. Muttering a quick apology, you stepped out of the way, but he chuckled.
“I was actually here to help you,” he said and crossed his arms behind his back. “First time here?”
“Do I look that obviously out of place?”
He flashed a smile.
You clicked your tongue. “Alright. Loud and clear.”
The guy chuckled and started walking. “The actual reason is that I haven’t seen you around here. I would recognise you if you were a regular.”
“Ah.” You trailed after him. “My… um, my boyfriend comes here often. If anyone’s the regular, it’s him.”
He looked back at you and narrowed his eyes, scanning you up and down. “Your boyfriend…”
“I think.”
Mentally you were already strangling yourself for letting it slip out, but he ignored it to your surprise. You breathed out softly and stopped when he did.
“Is he broad and muscular?”
You couldn’t help but snort before composing yourself. You shook your head. “Sorry. No, he’s not.”
“Guessing by that reaction, he’s the opposite.”
“I wouldn’t describe him as ‘broad’, no.”
An amused smile decorated the man’s face. “Longer blond hair?”
Your stomach tingled. “As of recently, yes.”
“Oh, Minghao,” he cooed and clasped his hands together. “He would be laughing in my face if I told him that you were here.”
You tilted your head with a frown.
The man took you to the front of the shop, where you were admiring the daisies earlier. He grabbed a couple of white ones out of the bucket and turned around. “Minghao always comes here to pick out flowers for your house then, I assume, and he talks about you on many occasions.”
He walked to a couple of other buckets and picked some pink flowers. “I vividly remember him telling me that you would never be found here. Look at you now!”
You blinked a couple of times. It was the first time you ever saw him, but he was spewing information like he knew you better than you knew yourself, talking like he was catching up with an old friend.
With a weak nod, you looked at the flowers in his hand. “Minghao was completely right in saying that.”
“What brings you here?”
You looked at him, opening your mouth to say something before closing it. Shrugging, you shot him a small smile. “I don’t know, to be honest. It just felt right coming here.”
He returned the smile warmly before handing you the bouquet. “You made the right choice, then.”
The bouquet had been sitting in a vase in your kitchen for days. You’d been pondering over what to say to Minghao and how you were going to approach him in the first place. It was almost three weeks ago since your last contact and you were reaching your final straw.
When you called him, you got voicemail. Expecting him to call back, you left him be until a call would never come. Slowly, the empty feeling in your chest started filling up with a burning sensation, until you had enough.
You stood in front of his door with a hammering heart. The lock clicked and he peeked his head around the corner.
Minghao seemed surprised to see you as he opened the door. “Hey, what are you doing here?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” you shrugged, pretending to think, “maybe trying to get back in touch with you so we can get this over with.”
He leaned against the door. “Okay, what do you have to say?”
“Why don’t you pick up when I try to call you?”
“Because I have a right to decline.”
Your eyes clouded over, piercing right through him.
Minghao shrugged, your name rolling off his lips so calmly, you got shivers. “You’re not even sure what you’re going to say.”
You crossed your arms and cocked your eyebrow. “I am.”
He repeated your gesture and straightened his posture. You hated that through all the anger, he still managed to make your heart skip a beat. His eyes still held a softness for you, and you know he was more than open to hear you out.
You were the one visiting him, after all.
“Well,” you started and cleared your throat, “I think it’s unfair of you to assume that I don’t know what to say.”
“Can you prove me wrong, though?” Minghao asked. “Whenever we’re arguing, you say the same thing in five different ways. And frankly, we never get it solved.”
Before you had a defence at the ready, he cut you off.
“I’m not going to do it, not like this.” Minghao offered you a small smile. “Figure out what you want first.”
“Minghao–”
He shut the door.
You stared at it, head spinning. You were angry, upset, hurt, disappointed and unable to ride out one. You wanted to pounce at the door and scream at him, but you wanted to cry in his arms all the same.
Instead you ended up back home.
The bouquet had withered by the time you decided to do something else than go to work, the rose petals that were still clinging on a faint brown. The rest of them were on the kitchen table drying up.
You shoved your hands into your pockets and walked the block, taking a left and walking straight into the city. You didn’t have a destination in mind, you just needed to catch some fresh air.
After a good month since your fight with Minghao, the flow hadn’t brought him back to you still. On the contrary, even. You had a feeling he drifted away from you if you didn’t do something soon.
In all your anger and confusion, you’d stood on his doorstep the night before. Once again, Minghao had opened the door and you even made it into his apartment. The conversation seemed to go well and you were making progress.
Until it was your turn to talk. The conversation had escalated once again and you left with the anger burning your chest to ashes. Everything that he’d said had fallen on deaf ears and you started to realise that the problem wasn’t with Minghao.
You pushed through the doors. The daisies on your right side were the first thing you smelled, a warmth wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. Since your last visit, not much had changed in their display. Some colours had been replaced or switched around to make it more appealing, but that was the biggest change you could find.
Bowing over the daisies, you inhaled.
“Look at that.”
You shot up and looked right in those mischievous eyes.
“Are you becoming a regular?” The same guy asked, arms crossed behind his back. His lips twisted into a grin. “Welcome back. I guess that you’re still a little clueless?”
“Yep.” You looked around before your eyes landed on him. “The last bouquet kind of died and I couldn’t help but feel a little guilty.”
“I expected nothing less.” He beckoned you and started walking. “You’re around more than Minghao and that says a lot. Is something going on?”
You shrugged and crossed your arms over your body. “We’re kind of on a rough patch right now.”
He hummed and stopped by the counter, leaning on it as he watched his coworker helping someone else. “I think it’s very ironic that you find yourself here of all places.”
You looked at him with a tilted head.
“You’re not someone that cares much for flowers,” the guy started. “You’re okay with Minghao decorating your house with it because he loves it, but that’s all. And now you’re in a rough patch and where are you right now? A place that he loves more than you do.”
You hummed and looked away.
“What I’m trying to say is that you’re not here without a reason, you just need to know how to return the gesture to him.”
“Have you ever considered becoming a public speaker?”
The guy laughed. “Next to being a florist, I also offer free therapy sessions. Part of the job.” His chuckles eased into a smile. “You have no idea the things I’ve seen since working here. Flowers play a bigger role in people’s lives than you might assume.”
“I get why you and Minghao get along so well,” you remarked. “It’s like hearing him speak as we’re talking right now.”
“Like attracts like.” He winked and patted the counter. “I need to look over deliveries. Take a look around and call for me if you need me.”
You nodded and watched how he slid behind the counter and disappeared in the back. Walking back to the daisies, you kneeled down. They had all kinds of colours, blending into each other so seamlessly it made you smile.
The purple ones had been in your house before. You remembered getting a promotion at work, and telling Minghao was the most exciting part of the day. That same night, you had a small bouquet, which included the purple daisies.
You’d always assumed they were purple because it was your favourite colour, but it was the only time you’d seen them. Faded to the back of your mind, passing it off as something insignificant.
As if it had never mattered at all.
With a soft sigh, you came back up. You dusted your pants off and straightened your jacket. As you turned around, you bumped into someone.
“Did I look lost again?” You remarked with a chuckle. When you looked up, Minghao was staring right back at you.
You froze.
His eyes scanned you carefully, and you couldn’t help but drown in them.
“You do look kind of lost,” he finally said. “I thought my mind was playing tricks on me when I saw you here.”
You shrugged weakly and crossed your arms over your body.
Minghao nodded at the buckets. “What were you looking at?”
Your eyes darted to the purple daisies.
“Ah,” he hummed and bowed down, picking one from the bucket. He observed it before giving it to you.
You took it carefully and held it to your chest.
“I know purple is your favourite colour.” He nodded his head at the flower. “That’s not what that daisy is about.”
You tilted your head. “What do you mean?”
Minghao placed a hand on the small of your back and guided you further into the shop. The touch was electric, lighting a flame that you thought had long died out. “Purple daisies resemble success, and admiration. When I put them in your living room, I was celebrating your promotion.”
He picked a pink flower. “Pink lilies bear the same meaning, and they were also in that same bouquet. Admiration and gratitude.”
You took the lily from him. “What flowers say ‘I’m sorry for everything, please forgive me?’”
Minghao stopped in his tracks. He looked over his shoulder.
You took a small step towards him. “I really am sorry, Hao. I don’t want you to feel undervalued, or misunderstood, and I hate myself for not realising earlier that that’s what this is all about.”
He turned around in full.
“You know,” you looked up at him with a small smile, “if I would’ve engaged earlier, be more open-minded like you’d tell me,” you nudged Minghao, making him chuckle. “I would’ve realised much sooner that it’s one of the most touching gestures someone has ever made for me. So that’s what I’ll try to do from now on.”
He smiled at you.
You caressed his cheek. “And hearing you spew these facts out like it’s breathing, it warms my heart, and it actually makes me excited to hear more.”
“I’m sorry too, my love,” Minghao muttered and leaned into your touch. “I’m very quick to jump to conclusions sometimes and it’s unfair to you especially since you need a little longer to gather your thoughts. I should’ve given you proper time and space to do so, instead of pushing the blame all on you.”
You wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your head on his chest. “We’ll work on this just fine, my love. I’m very sure of it.”
Minghao pressed a long kiss into your hair. “I love you so much, darling. So so much.”
You looked up at him and smiled. “I love you, too.”
He kissed you so eagerly that the heat pooled in your stomach. His hands gripped your waist, nails dipping into your sides like you would disappear again. When you pulled him in closer, he chuckled against your lips.
You pouted when he pulled back.
“I came here to pick up my order,” he muttered. “I need to get back to work.”
“See you tonight?” You offered, to which he smiled.
“You have a key.”
You pressed one last kiss to his lips and watched him walking to the counter. He was talking to the same guy that had taken you under his wing.
As Minghao slipped past, he squeezed your waist. “Seungkwan wants to talk to you,” he whispered and kissed your temple. He rushed out of the door and disappeared around the corner.
You looked over at Seungkwan, who waved at you. With a chuckle, you walked over to him. “What could you possibly need me for?”
“Let’s make you a bouquet for Minghao,” he said with a smile. “I’ll tell you all I need to know.”
When you walked out of the shop with the bouquet, you were light as a feather. Your stomach tingled whenever you thought of how Minghao’s eyes would light up, how he would kiss you passionately that you melted in his arms. Since your fight, you hadn’t felt so excited to see him again.
You knew that he wouldn’t get off work for another hour and set out to his house. The bouquet rested in your hand as you twisted the lock, slipping in before any of his neighbours would see you.
As you looked around, there wasn’t a flower in sight.
The empty vases were lined up on the counter on a towel. They looked dried up and you had no trouble believing they’d been there for a couple of days. Purposeless.
You grabbed the vase that Minghao painted himself, tracing the dried streaks with a smile. You filled it with water and put it in, setting the vase on the saloon table in the living room. ‘A center piece’, Minghao had often told you. You hoped that this would meet his requirements.
Minghao had texted you about dinner, opting that he would get something on his way home. You agreed with a smile.
When you heard the lock clicking not much later, your heart jumped.
You rubbed your hands together and balanced from the front to the heel of your feet.
Minghao pushed the door back into its lock with his hip, the crackling of a plastic bag following him around. When he walked into the living room, he yelped.
Covering your mouth, you suppressed a giggle. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“What are you already doing here?” His eyes darted to the bouquet on the table and his lips twisted into a smile. “That wasn’t there before.”
“Happened to come with me,” you watched him set the bag down and observe it. “Seungkwan helped me. It’s not how the professionals do it, but–”
“It’s perfect.” Minghao looked back at you and opened his arms. “Come here, you.”
You walked right into his arms, inhaling his citrus, amber scent. You closed your eyes with a hum. “I missed you a lot, Hao.”
“I you too, my love.” He ran a hand through your hair before pressing a kiss to it. “Let’s eat before dinner gets cold.”
You peeked inside the bag curiously and smiled brightly. You grabbed the servings and sat down on the ground. “You know, why Seungkwan works in a flower shop is beyond me,” you said and opened the container.
Minghao chuckled. “He’s a talker, hm?”
“He is.” You put the other one in front of your boyfriend and grabbed a spoon and a pair of chopsticks. “A good one at that, though. Very convincing.”
“He’s helped me since the first time I set foot in that place,” he started and stirred his soup. “I just moved to the city and I wanted a good bouquet for my living room.”
“The center piece,” you said in unison.
Minghao looked at you with a smile before he continued. “He knows everything there is to know and I really formed some kind of friendship with him.”
“He’s a nice guy.” The broth you sipped from was an explosion of flavours, making you groan. “God, I missed this.”
“I thought I’d treat you.”
With a smile, you spent the rest of the dinner catching up with Minghao; work, your parents, your friends. For the first time it wasn’t silent, as if your relationship had completely reinvented itself.
As Minghao was at the counter cutting the branches of the flowers, you stood behind him, your arms wrapped around him. Your head rested against his back, your eyes closed. “If you cut them at an angle, they’re able to absorb more water,” he told you. “Your beautiful bouquet will stay alive for a very long time.”
You smiled. “I worked very hard on it.” You peeked up at him. “Can I tell you about the flowers?”
His smile grew. “I would love to hear it.”
“I picked the blue orchids first,” you said and looked out of the window. “I had never seen it before, but it’s a way to express that you think of someone as beautiful in a unique way. And Seungkwan told me it’s spiritual so naturally, I had to pick it.”
“Flattered.”
You grinned at him. “You should be.”
“And then you chose red lilies,” Minghao continued, followed by a sheer cut.
“I know it looks a little odd next to the orchid, but they’re a symbol of love. I thought a red rose was too standard, so Seungkwan showed me these.”
Minghao looked back at you. “You really put a lot of thought into this, didn’t you?”
“And I’m not even finished,” you said with a small smile, the heat flushing your cheeks. “I did pick white and pink roses because they made me think of you.”
He smiled and put the bouquet back into the vase as you let go of him. “Pink is joy and appreciation.”
“And white symbolises a fresh start,” you added. You pointed at the daffodils on the side. “Just like those, moving away and transforming.”
“And pink camellias because you missed me.” Minghao bumped your hip. “Sappy.”
You chuckled and bumped him back.
He draped an arm around your shoulder and locked you into his side. “Thank you. Truly.”
You stood on your toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll do anything for you.”
You finally regretted speaking that into existence when you found yourself in the flower shop again a couple of weeks later. Your eyes darted around before you looked back at Minghao. “Seriously?”
“You claim to know so much about this now,” he answered with a shrug. “I would love to see you make a bouquet for your own apartment.”
Shooting him a sweet smile, you traced his arm. “But aren’t you sad that you can’t do it for me anymore?”
“Nope.”
“Was worth a try.” You looked around again and your eyes landed on Seungkwan. When he looked back at you, his eyes lit up.
He came over hurriedly. “You finally got her here!”
You arched an eyebrow and turned to Minghao.
“We’re here for some pieces for her apartment,” he said and placed a hand on the small of your back. “She’s going to pick them out herself, as she’s claiming to have the hang of it.”
Seungkwan bobbed his head, his upper lip curved upwards like he was impressed. He remained where we stood and smiled. “What are you looking for?”
“Something for my kitchen,” you answered and frowned. “Why does this feel like a test?”
Behind you, Minghao chuckled. He pushed you forward gently and followed you to the daisies. “I told you she would go there first.”
Seungkwan chuckled and joined you at the front of the shop. Instead of walking after him, you navigated the shop like it was your second home. With a bright smile, you walked out of the shop with the bouquet and your boyfriend back by your side.
A place that you never thought you would ever step foot in had become like a second home in an oddly beautiful way. After your fight with Minghao, that very shop had brought you back to each other like no flow could. And this time, you wouldn’t drift away from each other anymore.
Settle in with your coziest blanket and grab some popcorn, because it's time to SVTFLIX & chill! Hosted by @100vern, SVTFLIX is a Seventeen collab inspired by all of our favorite K-dramas. Whether you're in the mood for a romantic comedy that breaks the fourth wall or angsty magical fantasy, our talented cast of writers has you covered.
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Most of these titles include adult content, which is restricted to those 18 years of age or older. Minors are not welcome to engage with this content and will not be tagged in fics that contain it, even if requested.
📺 True Romance, starring Choi Seungcheol
after going on a blind date with false pretenses with the ceo of your company, things take a turn when he asks you to marry him to keep himself from ending up in an arranged marriage.
pairing: ceo!seungcheol x f. reader
genre: romance, smut, fluff, fake engagement, rom com at times, angst
rating: 18+
warnings: cussing, explicit sexual content, lying
✷ director: @straylightdream | pilot | full series
✷ inspired by: business proposal
📺 Business Proposal, starring Yoon Jeonghan
finding out your boss is a misogynistic pig when you're up for the biggest promotion of your life is, to put it mildly, minorly inconvenient. finding out your ex is also a candidate? majorly infuriating. sometimes the only way to win is to not play… but other times the guy working a dead-end job at the convenience store near your apartment agrees to fake marry you so long as he gets what he wants out of the deal. too bad you can't stand each other.
pairing: jeonghan x f. reader
genre: fake dating, marriage of convenience au; mutual annoyances to lovers, miscommunication; crack, fluff, angst, smut
rating: 18+
warnings: capitalism, misogyny, adult content
✷ director: @100vern | pilot | full series
✷ inspired by: no gain no love
📺 Guard of the Heart, starring Joshua Hong
You have a lot of standards to meet. You’ve always had. Your family, your company, your fans, they all expect the best from you. And while it is your company who signs your checks, you have yet to disobey your family. So, when your mother demands you go on a blind date to find yourself a competent husband to take over the family business, you listen. You go on a blind date and meet with the worst possible man you could imagine — Joshua Hong. Annoying, careless, Joshua, who manages to make an impression on you nonetheless. But you refuse to fall for him or his shenanigans, especially after the series of events following your first meeting.
pairing: demon!joshua x idol!f. reader
genre: romance, strangers to lovers, bodyguard romance, magic
rating: 18+
warnings: smut, blood, graphic descriptions of violence, obsessive fans, death threats
✷ director: @jakedustry | pilot | full series
✷ inspired by: my demon
📺 You Again, starring Wen Junhui
it's been 10 years. since you last saw jun. since the break up that rocked you. since you've been back to this town. since you thought about any of this. but leave it to one of your closest friends to draw both you and jun back in and send your world spiraling again.
pairing: jun x f!reader
genre: attempts at humor, fluff, angst, smut, exes to ?
rating: 18+
warnings: smut, past relationship issues
✷ director: @starlightkyeom | pilot | full series
✷ inspired by: our beloved summer
📺 Our Rented Marriage, starring Kwon Soonyoung
out of options when your roommate becomes engaged to her boyfriend, you find hope that maybe there you'll find your ground when you meet kwon soonyoung, your landlord, and the man who asked you to marry him for the sake of rent.
pairing: soonyoung x f. reader
genre: slice of life, romantic comedy, angst, marriage of convenience, strangers to lovers, slow burn, suggestive
rating: 18+
warnings: alcohol, smoking, miscommunication, harassment, misogynistic environments/workplace
✷ director: @mellow-wishes | pilot | full series
✷ inspired by: because this is my first life
📺 Truly Madly Deeply, starring Jeon Wonwoo
Jeon Wonwoo is a brilliant programmer. The "what if" of your college years, he's back in your life in the most dramatic way. Yours and Wonwoo's internal Cells villages get into a state of chaotic, hilarious situations and things get interesting. Your Love Cell finally started to wake up from its deep slumber after your last devastating heartbreak. Jeon Wonwoo, has come to wake up every single Cell in your brain in the best way possible, to heal and to learn. To love again.
pairing: wonwoo x reader
genre: friends? to lovers, romance, fluff, slight angst, comedy, fantasy au, mutual pining
rating: 18+
warnings: strong language working environment, mentions of eating due to stress, past relationships, suggestive, a tiny little miscommunication, wonwoo is down bad
✷ director: @lovelylonelinesssvt | pilot | full series
✷ inspired by: yumi's cells
📺 Crossing the Bridge to You, starring Lee Jihoon
When Jihoon returns to Daeho after three years, the last thing he expects is running into a woman who claims to be his fiancé. You, who have been stuck in Jinyowon for the past three years, rattle his world with your eccentric yet kind nature. Your boldness is new to him but so is your naivety; will he get his happy ending despite the tragedy that has bound him to guilt? Will you get yours after opposing your mother? Only time will tell.
pairing: sorcerer!jihoon x priestess!f. reader
genre: angst, fluff, fantasy, strangers to lovers, marriage of convenience
rating: 18+
warnings: graphic descriptions of violence, near death situation, memory loss, constant suffering, blood, posession and usage of weapons (swords, bow and arrow), murder, corpses, mentions of suicide, self-blame, lack of freedom and being locked up, messed up timeline of AOS s2 plot
✷ director: @cherrymayz | pilot | full series
✷ inspired by: alchemy of souls
📺 Crumpled Paper and Metal Stars, starring Lee Seokmin
Your second semester of grad school has begun. Everything should be relatively easy, you've completed a semester and most of the people in your cohort adore your kindness and sunshine like disposition. Just as you're getting settled, an anonymous post ignites your semester. Instead of an easy sixteen weeks of learning, you're balancing teaching, a post that has the attention of literally everyone, and the personification of a gray cloud: Lee Seokmin.
pairing: grad student!seokmin x grad student!f. reader
genre: grumpy x sunshine, angst, university au, cohorts to lovers, fluff, secret relationship and the angst that comes with it, anonymous confession
rating: 18+
warnings: alcohol, seokmin is the grumpiest (lowk to the point where he's an asshole), mentions of academic burnout, mentions of a sick parent, suggestive scenes
✷ director: @gentleisa | pilot | full series
✷ inspired by: dear m
📺 Oops!! We Broke the Plot, starring Kim Mingyu
You and Mingyu are childhood friends and two self‑aware comic characters that are forced into clichéd romcom roles you both hate. On the page, he’s the perfect jock and you’re the villainess; off the page, you’re a nerd–queen duo secretly in love. Fed up with scripted drama and unwanted love triangles, you rebel, glitching the comic as the Writer fights to force you back into place. What follows isn’t a romcom but a battle for agency, freedom, and the right to choose each other.
pairing: mingyu x f. reader
genre: romantic comedy, smut, angst, drama, childhood friends to lovers, meta, breaking the fourth wall(?)
rating: 18+
warnings: smut/nsfw content
✷ director: @xomakara | pilot | full series
✷ inspired by: extra-ordinary you
📺 Universal Error, starring Xu Minghao
Being a doctor is hard work. Running your own fan page with over a thousand followers and translating a Chinese webtoon every week? Even harder. Being an avid reader and fan girl of the popular Chinese Webtoon, "Universal Error" turns your life upside down for the better as you translate it every week for your leaks page. However, when the finale turns dark and the main character, Xu Minghao's ending is left open-ended and undetermined. You thought your life couldn't get any worse, until an unforeseen circumstance happens that ends with you waking up in an alternate reality with Xu Minghao's life in your hands. Will you be able to change his reality or would you be left with a Universal Error yourself?
pairing: xu minghao x f. reader
genre: fluff, angst, smut, strangers to lovers, thriller, suspense, fantasy
rating: 18+
warnings: smut/nsfw content, talks about murder, weapons, blood
✷ director: @livmarauder | pilot | full series
✷ inspired by: w: two worlds apart
📺 Cyber Love is Bullshit, starring Boo Seungkwan
You hate Love Alarm and everything that it stands for, especially since it's the reason why your last relationship ended. Now navigating through a society where people rely a machine to dictate who you fall for, you find a lone soul like yours who makes you believe in love again.
pairing: seungkwan x reader
genre: fluff, angst, smut, strangers to lovers, found family?
rating: 18+
warnings: talks of infidelity, sexual content
✷ director: @aeristudios | pilot | full series
✷ inspired by: love alarm
📺 Rabbit, starring Vernon Chwe
Revenge is the only thing that kept you alive after your family’s betrayal. When the police force you to earn your place by infiltrating the same syndicate that destroyed you, you step back into a world that feels far too familiar - especially Vernon, who seems to see right through you.
pairing: vernon x f. reader
genre: mafia, criminal, angst, smut
ratings: 18+
warnings: violence, criminal behavior, explicit language, explicit content
✷ director: @sailorsoons | pilot | full series
✷ inspired by: my name
📺 You Think You Know a Guy, starring Lee Chan
Chan’s grandmother says she disapproves, but he knows she doesn’t mind so long as he proves he can turn a profit before he's given a role in the family business. That’s the easy part, Chan thinks, since a friend in Tokyo says business is booming for his own boyfriend rental service. So he hires four good looking guys— the himbo, the stoic romantic, the playboy, and you, the pretty one. The hardest part, Chan thinks later, is stopping himself from looking your way. (Or: allegedly straight Chan questions his sexuality when all he can think about is the guy who works for him.)
pairing: boss!chan x afab reader
genre: fluff, angst, smut, strangers to lovers
rating: 18+
warnings: questioning sexuality and gender, employer/ee dynamic, queer themes, accepting family/friend group, accidental but non-malicious misgendering; reader is afab, uses she/they pronouns, and looks androgynous
✷ director: @imnotshua | pilot | full series
✷ inspired by: coffee prince
Please note that all information above is subject to change, including story content and posting deadlines. Writing is meant to be fun, so while all involved are encouraged to post by the deadline, we understand that shit happens! Our talented group of authors are as excited to release their work as you are to read it, so please be patient and kind. Thank you so much for your interest! ✷
summary - Actress Jung, known for her spectacular hits Love, Forevermore, and La Vie En Rose,that is still housing the Capitol Movie Palace is back on the screen after a year of disappearance. Finally her hiatus comes to an end with a new movie, the bride, in production. Gossip is that the movie is inspired from her calamitous love life that has people wondering how a person, a woman, can fall in love seven times.
Will she get her heart broken for the eighth time with her rumored clandestine Choi Seungcheol or will she break her curse of ‘always a bridesmaid but never the bride’ with the entry of a new male actor in town, Lee Chan.
tags - popularactress!reader x strugglingactor!Chan, 1920s, fluff, angst, slow buildup (bear with me)
warnings - misogyny, struggles of actors, reader has too many loves; not all at once, reader is few times addressed as Ms. Jung because I will die before using y/n in my fics, asshole cheol; couldn't help it, vague attempt at 1920s slang, very few but still there
wc - 9.2k
c's note - first of all, thank you @studiosvt for giving me a chance to write for Puttin' on the Ritz collab! I want to thank you @straylightdream for the wonderful banner you created and saved me from my agony! I tried my best to write this, it was difficult because of the kind of storyline I chose. The concept of seven love stories is inspired from the book the seven husbands of evelyn hugo but only the number of relationships, nothing else. And I request your patience with their slow build up because I can't for the love of the god write a fast pace love story until they are already in relationship or one of them is already in love.
Also please check out the other beautiful entries! Thank you for choosing to read my story!
The bride is back again on the screen!
Actress Jung, known for her spectacular hits Love, Forevermore, and La Vie En Rose, that is still housing the Capitol Movie Palace is back on the screen after a year of disappearance, one may call. With her ex-fiance leaving her standing on the altar, and eloping with his secret affair Actress Lee, Jung has taken a break from the spotlight. Her pictures of standing in the grandeur palace in a beautiful wedding dress designed by Mr. Chwe, has become the poster plastered everywhere in New York.
One year break is coming to an end as the bliss production house announces Bride is in works with none other than our very own Jung. Gossip on the cinema floors is that the film is inspired from her calamitous love life. People have fingers on their nose wondering can a person fall in love, seven times, and that too a woman.
Cinema lovers are eagerly anticipating Jung’s return, and the upcoming cinema has already created enough buzz. The critics predict that Bride will overtake La Vie En Rose and will run longer in the movie palaces, because everyone is on their toes to watch the most beautiful woman who is also known as ‘always a bridesmaid but never the bride’.
Chan angles the newspaper into the light, the picture of the actress dressed in a beautiful white gown, and looking devastatingly beautiful as she stares away from the camera. The picture floated everywhere, he remembers seeing this plastered on walls, displayed on the bridalwear stores, and exchanged between teenagers who probably had it hanging on their bedroom walls.
She is beautiful, Chan agrees with the articles calling her carved out by Aphrodite herself. He has never seen eyes that speak a thousand words, grasping his attention and his soul the entire time she is on screen. Chan strives to achieve that level of immersiveness, hone his skills and deliver a movie that will run at least as long as La Vie En Rose. Or half of it.
His father’s words ring in his ears, “having a dream is a luxury to us, Lee Chan. If you ever want to dream, dream a big one. Believe in yourself.”
He will be a star of a cinema that will run longer than La Vie En Rose.
Chan tucks the newspaper into his bag, and clasps it shut. The New York city passes through, the ever bustling city he always dreamed. The restless city where something is always happening, and people are so preoccupied that not one of them is out for a heart-to-heart chat.
Kansas is different, Chan reminisces the long days he spent trailing behind his father in the fields, watching him do farming. He misses waking up early in the morning to watch the sunflowers bloom beneath the sun. Magical, he will describe it, and he always stares at his father’s hands that made these flowers. Ten year old Chan wished that the moment would last forever, standing in the middle of the field, almost drowning among the tall flowers, watching his father’s wrinkled and dirty shirt hanging loose on his shoulder as he retreated back.
But fourteen year old Chan had a dream. And now, twenty seven year old Chan is in New York, chasing that dream.
The bus comes to a stop near the familiar Coffee Break bakery. Chan slings his bag on his shoulder, and lets an elderly woman pass before he can climb down. He smiles sweetly at the grandma who presses his wrist in appreciation. He holds her hand, supporting her as she steps down the bus.
The aroma of freshly pressed coffee beans has Chan sighing in appreciation, lightning the disappointment sitting in his stomach. Another failed audition. He enters the narrow street between the bakery and a tailor shop, looking down at his worn out shoes dejectedly.
He doesn’t understand where he is going wrong. His auditions are spectacular, he can see it in the eyes of others’ once he is done, admiration, scared, and narrowed. Chan is talented, he has a knack of acting, delivering emotions without a squeak. But what Chan doesn’t have is connections, no insider that will always push in his acquaintance after the thousands of auditions.
Dream big. He chants to himself, tells himself, or reminds himself. He can’t give up now, not after investing his entire life into his dream. One day, somewhere, someone will love his acting and a big miracle will land on his lap. He stops before his old rusty accommodation, looks at himself in the glass reflection on the window.
“Fighting, Chan!”
The window on the second floor rattle open, “oi, talking to yourself again?”
Chan watches his roommate and a rare friend he made in this cold city, at least to him, bend down the window. “I’m not.”
He shoves his fist into his coat pocket searching for the key. He slots the key in, and rattles the knob with his entire body to open the damn door. Jeonghan laughs, enjoying the misery Chan is always in with this door, testing his patience and strength.
“Weakling.” Jeonghan’s words only riles him up.
Chan shoves his shoulder into the door, and it creaks open. He looks up smugly at his roommate who just plucks the leaves off the branch that always pokes into their room, and sprinkles it on Chan.
“I washed only four hours ago!” Chan shrieks, quickly ruffling his hair, and escaping into the house before Jeonghan can shake the entire branch onto him. “This man..”
“Chan.” The landlady stands near the stairs.
He stops in his tracks, checking the time on the antique wooden grandfather clock, she should be out collecting money from other tenants. Chan planned his arrival carefully so he could avoid her.
Chan rubs his sweaty palms on his coat, “yes, Mrs.Beatrice. I’m aware. I’ll be paid tomorrow and the first thing I will do is come and pay the rent.” He tries his best to be reassuring but one could come up with only a few believable excuses. “I promise.”
Mrs.Beatrice presses her lips in a thin line. “If I don’t see the rent on my table by five in the evening, take yourself out of my building.”
Chan sees her out, briefly glancing at her when he struggles to open the door, wondering if she will get it repaired but all she does is breeze past him with a “gentle with it, will you. Can’t see you paying for a new door if that breaks.”
He slammed the door shut on her retreating back, surprisingly it didn’t require much from him. He takes the stairs, ready to retire for the day and wallow in self-pity, he stares at his hand and wonders emotions makes one move the hardest mountains too.
Chan scrubs the table for fourteenth time today. It is heavy work, doing the same chores repeatedly to the point he is on autopilot working here in the Ann’s Bakery. He has to rearrange the pyramid tower of baked bread near the entry doorway, watch out for kids’ who experiment on which packet to pull to see the collapse of the tower, scrub the tables and counters several times to clean the crumbs.
His baking skills can set the whole city on fire. To save her bakery business Mrs.Ann appointed him to do the manual labor. He doesn’t mind the rough work, takes his mind off the series of failed auditions as he scrubs a particular stain. Mrs.Ann is also flexible with his schedule—running out of mid-shift remembering the audition, giving days off to go and perform screen tests, and letting him use the telephone.
Her love towards the silent cinemas, the set time she dedicates on every thursday evenings to watch cinema at Capitol Movie Palace, he can’t understand how she can watch La Vie En Rose every other week. She sat him down one evening, the bakery is slow, and he is just idling going on about how people over-credit Jung’s involvement in the movie and its success.
“Chan, my boy,” Mrs.Ann has the sweet smile that can melt everyone’s troubles, and have momentary peace, “the movie is hers. I’m not discrediting Joshua Hong, come on, he is the gentleman of Hollywood.”
Chan’s eyebrows scrunch at her dreamy look.
She laughs into her hand, “I am saying the world is blinded by the agenda that Men run the world, be it business, politics, and cinema. La Vie En Rose is her’s, Joshua’s acting shone because of her acting, she lived the character, Chan, and how many can grasp your heart, take you into a world that doesn’t exist, and make you feel every emotion?
You can feel Joshua’s agony when she broke off their engagement, because she doesn’t look back, walking away from a boy who loved her for fifteen years. Her subtle shake in body when she declares that she separated from her lover to her family, hiding herself behind a wall to get one last look at Joshua.” Mrs.Ann sighs, “I would watch this over and over.”
Next Thursday Chan accompanied her. He understood what Mrs.Ann was saying, and he couldn’t avert his eyes from her even for a mere second, gobbling her screen presence as someone starved.
Chan is invested in scrubbing a stain that he misses his name being called until Mrs.Ann shakes his arm.
“Chan!” Her almond eyes are wide, “what are you doing? I have been calling you,” she hushes him before he can apologize, “no time for that, you got a call Chan, go and pick up the receiver, go, go, go.” She ushers him with a happy smile.
Chan drops the rag and wipes his hands on his green apron. He nervously licks his lips, Mrs.Ann’s encouraging smile eases his nerves but not so much. Various thoughts infiltrated his mind, he never got a call on a telephone, he never dared to even handout this number to his family, worried they’ll spend frivolously to call him just because they miss him.
Only using it to give out during auditions. If someone is asking for him means only one thing, he must have passed one of his hundreds of auditions. Why would anyone dial him up to inform he failed? He must have gotten his first role.
With a shaky hand he picks up the receiver, glancing at Mrs.Ann, she is still giving him the encouraging smile, and he breathes out, summoning up faux courage. “Hello, Chan speaking.”
The other side is loud, voices overlapping and cars honking faraway but still he can hear them over the occasional static. “Chan, we are calling from bliss productions, is it the right time to speak with you?”
He nods. The other person speaks, “hello, are you there? Damn this new technology, nothing works.”
He realizes his dumbness, and answers, “yes, this is the right time.” He winces at the choice of his words, but what can he do? It’s Bliss production house on the other side.
“Okay, thank god. We are calling regarding the role you auditioned for. How soon are you available for a few more rounds? That is if you are still interested.”
Chan’s knees buckle, he latches onto the wooden table to hold himself up. “Tomorrow,” he rushes out. “I can come in tomorrow.”
“That's wonderful.” The man from the production house cheerfully answers, “it’s nothing much, just a few dress trails and etcetera etcetera. Welcome to Bliss production, unofficially, don’t tell anyone I gave out the paper.”
The line comes to an end. Chan holds the receiver in his ear, listening to the beep sound.
Mrs.Ann shakes his arm, concerned over his prolonged silence. “Chan, is everything okay?”
He drops the receiver to his chest, his voice quivering, “I got the part. I.. got the part. I'm going to be a part of the cinema from the Bliss production!”
Mrs.Ann claps her hands excitedly, “oh my god, finally. Oh, Chan, your debut will be from the biggest production house.”
“Not the hero,” he hurriedly adds.
Mrs.Ann slaps his arm, “a debut is a debut.” She pulls up the barrier, going behind the counter, and disappears into the kitchen. “Let me bake a cake. We should celebrate.”
Chan looks down at the receiver that has given him the best news of his life. He cradles it to his heart and lets out a wistful sigh.
Dream big. His father’s words echo.
Chan is a nervous wreck. He has his make up done and has been in his costume since the sunrise. He is on standby ever since, idling around the set watching people scramble around to get the tasks done, barking orders ‘lighting is wrong’ ‘fix the table, dickhead’ and Chan is surprised how vulgar words slowly get as the time to shoot approaches.
He sits on a workbench near the entrance, twiddling his thumbs, anxiously watching the actors shooting their scene. Will he be able to get his first scene done today? He has rehearsed his scene relentlessly that Jeonghan closed the door shut on his face. Still, he silently got down the stairs and rehearsed before the mirror in the hallway.
The two minute scene is short. A waste of effort for just appearing on the scene just to laugh and have lunch with the female lead, Jeonghan grumbled, after watching Chan practise laughing. It’s not like Chan doesn’t know, investing his entirety for a measly scene, that may or may not be made into the final cut. That’s the fate of a supporting character, the heroine's friend.
Chan stiffens up his spine as a car rolls down to a stop near the entrance. The staff rushes towards the entrance, the place is crowded, and everyone’s on their toes to get the glimpse of the person who is about to enter.
But, despite the scene being a smaller one that may not be in the final cut, Chan is going to shoot it. Shoot it with you, the one who has everyone running and pushing to just get a glimpse of you. The It girl of Hollywood. If he has to share screen with you, he has to get himself together and be the best.
He watches the bodyguards making space for you to enter. The huge and wide security team completely blocks Chan’s vision of you. He wished he had brought Mrs.Ann to see her favorite actress, and one day, when he becomes a star he will. For now, he settles himself with a glimpse of your black long dress that floats from the speed you are rushing into the vanity.
If the set was buzzing earlier, now it was boisterous and loud. Conversations exchanged behind hands, and sneaky fingers pointing at your vanity room. Chan shakes his head, disappointed, all the fame, all the talent and all the success, but people will latch onto the failed aspect of the person’s life, your life. He is not new to the gossip that floats around, and he is not interested in those articles unless it's you talking about your character and your acting methods.
After that Thursday evening, where he rewatched La Vie En Rose with Mrs.Ann, he is enamored by you. And when he got to know he was accepted into Bride cinema that has everyone pumped up, Chan had to sit down for a minute to grasp the news. His first cinema with Bliss productions, sharing a screen with you? Things can never get better. He hopes it doesn’t get worse.
The commotion starts all over again, Chan now jumps off the workbench, unable to restrain his eagerness to properly look at you, walks over where the people are rushing. He stops with a frown seeing them rushing towards the entrance instead of your vanity room. He backs away when two men push past him, almost knocking him down.
Junhui doesn’t have a scene today, its not possible for the star of the cinema to be on sets today. Chan gets back onto his workbench and sees the reason behind the commotion.
Choi Seungcheol walks past, nodding to the greetings from the staff. He is not in the cinema, and Chan couldn’t believe he got to see the top two actors that have been reigning Hollywood. He wants to go down and tell him how much he loves the Noir film; his act as the mafia leader has changed his life.
Chan’s excitement pops when Seungcheol opens your vanity room and locks it behind him. Gossip which was exchanged as hushed whispers is now full blown conversation and hoots.
Chan grins watching you throw your head back and laughing. Your laughter is as melodic as a river smoothly flowing down the rocks. If it’s possible Chan wants to lay down next to it and sleep. If only cinema has sound to it, and the audience gets to hear your voice, mainly your laugh. Chan tilts his head, a proud feeling sitting in his chest as he sees your face bloom from happiness.
You momentarily forget the scene, tears sitting in the corner of your eyes, the black kohl starting to spill. You reach for the water glass, breaking the character. No matter how good Chan's acting skills are, he is still relatively new to improv. The glass slips from your fingers, water sloshes out of it as it topples down with a thud.
“Cut.” The director shouts.
Chan quickly straightens the glass to stop more water from spilling out. He grabs the tissues neatly arranged in a holder, and places it on the wet splotch. A rehearsed move one could say, his little brother used to create chaos and as an older and wiser brother Chan picked up the chaos and straightened them. Working at Ann’s bakery too helped him in his agile thinking.
“I’m sorry,” you rush out, fingers dangling in the air as you blink at the mess, hands moving over to the tissues and mirroring his movements. “I wasn’t thinking.”
Chan grabs the tissue from your hands, “please, a lady cleaning the mess? No thank you.” He reassures you with a smile, “all you need to do is not to spoil your dress.” He nudges his chin to the water that is slithering down towards your side.
You quickly back out. Chan dabs the ends and makes sure none of this mess reaches you. The staff approaches you, correcting your eyeliner and touching up your makeup. Chan plucks out the wet tissues and carries them to the nearby trash bin.
Seungcheol is sitting next to the director, a burning cigarette in his hand. Chan startles noticing the superstar is watching him. He presses his wet hands to his trousers, and realises that’s a dumb move now that his wet handprints are visible on the brown pants. He frets over the mistake, gnawing his lip and hoping that by the time the team replaces the tablecloth his pants will dry up.
He schools his expression, summoning up his courage to greet his favorite star. Seungcheol has moved on, what is Chan expecting, having his attention for one second is enough for him to last a lifetime. He stands next to a wall, leaning onto it, and watches Seungcheol blow the cigarette smoke onto your face.
You are explaining the joke he just said, nose crinkling at the edges whenever he smokes out on your face. Seungcheol, true to his character in Noir, has a wandering gaze and mind.
Chan grits his jaw seeing you oblivious to any of Seungcheol’s not innocent eyes on one of the girls on set. A younger girl, barely reached twenties.
He pushes himself off of the wall, walking past the incoming doom that is going to be your eighth heartbreak.
“Why do you care, Chan?” Jeonghan’s exasperated voice fills the tiny room they call home.
Affording a shelter above their heads in New York is a nightmare. The rent on which Chan’s entire family can live on for two months back home in Kansas, can barely scratch his needs here.
Dreaming is expensive. And a lot exciting.
“How can one be so blind to the blaring signs, hyung?” Chan hugs his knees to his chest, sitting on the floor next to a very curious and equally pissed Jeonghan.
Jeonghan turns to his side on the bed. “Maybe that’s why Jung got seven failed stories. She can’t read a sign I guess.” He flops over to his back, hands beneath his head as he wistfully sighs, “all that beauty and still no luck in love?” He clicks his tongue.
And skills. Chan wants to add but bites back his tongue.
“She’s going to add another story to her ‘always a bridesmaid and never a bride’ soon.” Jeonghan faces Chan again, “Seungcheol really is that asshole, huh.”
Another failed story? Eighth heartbreak? Chan gnaws on his lip wondering if you will be able to handle that pain all over again? The eldest son's tendency of looking over everyone consumes him. He wants you to find your happiness.
Jeonghan nudges Chan’s knee, “what are you thinking? Are you going to open Jung’s eyes or what?”
Chan’s eyes lit up with a new idea.
“Some people are born to be unlucky in love, Chan.” He warns, “don’t tangle yourself in that mess.”
Unhindered with the warning message, Chan thinks of the ways he can save you from your own heartbreak.
Chan licks his lips standing behind the small crowd that surrounds the set watching you act. Untrue to the rumours floating around Bride isn’t about your life surrounding your seven heartbreaks. How cruel can one be, wanting to put you through everything for a second time? Relive the horrors of your past?
You dab your eyes with a napkin once the director screams cut. Chan rehearses the words he has been thinking of saying to you, to warn you about the glaring dangers of falling in love with the superstar the whole nation loves.
The last two nights he tossed and turned in his squeaking bed, choosing better words to his script that will help you come out of the eighth heartbreak untouched— a scrape on your heart maybe but you won’t be picking up the pieces at least.
You smile your way through the crowd, done with your current scene and have an hour break before the next. You massage your neck listening to your management staff.
Chan runs his sweaty hands down his jacket, with an exhale, he takes determined steps towards you. The staff is running around, the usual huff and buff, Chan has time to think on why he wants to talk you out of your relationship?
Why is he pushing his nose into your life? Dictating your decisions, telling you what’s right, what’s wrong? You are experienced in life from working since your childhood, the industry should have taught you life, and you are older than him, for god’s sake. A lot wiser than him too.
He reaches your vanity, close enough to listen to you talk with your manager.
“…I don’t want to give an interview,” you firmly deny, “I don’t want to sit there for an hour, look pretty while they stab me with their questions.
“Hound dogs, won’t leave me alone. They’ll tear me apart. And,” your shoulders bunch up, “I’m not giving them what they want. Tell your boss. I don’t need money. And if that’s all you guys want, I will give you, and leave me be.”
Chan takes a shaky step back. You watch your management walk away with a clenched jaw and pissed off face. You settle on a chair next to you, running your hands through your perfectly styled hair.
He should leave. And let you be in your own peace. He sees the shaking in your shoulders, and hears the soft hiccups. He clenches his hands, reconsidering his decision to leave you alone.
You wipe the corner of your eyes, discreetly, like wiping some dust off your eyes. Chan steps towards you, standing before your folded body, and clears his throat.
You stiffen, hands crumpling your black attire, the sniffles stop and Chan almost feels bad about interrupting you in your sadness. But he can’t leave you alone, the need to take care of others always precedes before anything. And, partly, because he can’t let a beautiful woman cry.
After a lot of deliberation you look up, straightening in your chair and gone is the vulnerable look. Your face steel up, like a rehearsed move you have done a hundred times before. Your eyebrows draw in, confusion lingering in, and then your eyes widen, remembering him.
Chan’s cheeks warm as you take your time to recognise him, the man that made you laugh with your entire chest. You barely remember him, and he wanted to advise you on relationships. Jeonghan will have a field day once he gets to know this.
“Hi..?” You trail off.
“Chan! Your friend.” He extends his hand, “I mean your friend in the cinema. Not that I don’t want to be one in real life. What I meant is.. uh, I’m Chan.”
How does one speak again? Why does his vocabulary and stringing words together bailed on him?
He licks his lips flustered. You are staring at him with those doe eyes that made his breath hitch twice while watching La Vie En Rose. The gentleman of Hollywood was the recipient of that innocent, loving gaze and now, it’s Chan, making him wonder what he did to deserve kindness from you.
You smile tenderly, “Chan, my friend.” You play along, shaking up his entire world, “I missed you on the set for the last three days.”
“Uhh,” Chan rubs his nape, his mind splintering in different ways at your words and hospitality. “I didn’t have a scene given I’m just a side character, a friend.” He shrugs, looking away, unable to hold your gaze even for one more second.
You are silent momentarily, Chan bites his tongue wondering if he stepped out of his line. His attention transfixes on your moist eyelashes fluttering as you stare at the floor.
“Funny how,” your voice is very low, and the staff’s noise overpowers yours. Chan takes a tentative step towards you. You continue, “friends seem like a side character when one friend can save your life.”
Chan stands there stunned at your words, taken aback at the quick switch of your heartbroken face to a bright one, in a mere second. He rubs his ear, did you really say those words or is he hallucinating the scene? The switch ups are so frequent that he is unable to believe which is true you or the one where you are acting. Everything from you makes him believe it's true. And he realises that's a dangerous game to get involved in.
“So Chan,” you stand up from the chair, adjusting your dress, “you are important. Never play small.”
“Do you.. Do you want to come and eat with me?” Chan imagines himself flinging off the cliff in his hometown, mortified from his actions.
“Eat?” You turn to him.
Chan feels hot inside the layers he put on. “Yeah. I know a place that has Cream Puffs.” Your arch an eyebrow, he quickly adds, “Cream Puffs of the century. One shouldn’t miss.”
You fold your arms across your stomach, eyes shining at the mention of a sweet treat. Chan hopes his overshot work, some time with you, in a bakery he is familiar with and not in a strange place like this set. You look over your shoulder, and turn to him again.
“I only have an hour.” You say slowly, red lip caught between your teeth, and with a look that vaguely reminds of a kid who is about to cross lines and possibly anger their parents. “Is it possible for us to get back in time?”
“Of course.” Chan will stop the incoming cars, double decker buses or anything for you. “We will.”
Your shoulders perk up, “I’ll grab my scarf.” You hurry into your vanity room, your heels click-clacking from your hurried, excitement filled steps.
Chan shoves his hands into his pockets, equally thrilled about the small getaway and the contrast in your emotions. He is proud of himself, proud of the shaky step he took and asked you out for cream puffs. A necessary break you needed. He knows his hunch never goes wrong.
Chan wonders how many times he might have crossed paths with celebrities and didn’t notice them. He occasionally steals a glance of you, a scarf wrapped around your head, and adorned in a way that it almost covers your face. The round framed glasses sitting on the bridge of your nose, completely slipping away from your eyes, reminds him of an old man that sits on a bench near his apartment. Glasses almost on the tip of his nose and he will be looking over his glasses whenever Chan greets him on his way home.
You don’t look like you, not at least to a stranger’s eyes that doesn’t know it's you under this colorful scarf that doesn’t go well with your dress that shines whenever the sun rays hit in right angles. This isn’t how the fashionist Jung dresses. The still circulating pictures of you stranded in a beautiful wedding dress is proof. One must have lost his mind to leave a gorgeous woman.
“Here,” Chan’s hands hover over your shoulders, not quite touching, leading you into a small quaint bakery sitting on the very edge of a dead end. The trees sway under the mid-afternoon breeze, the sun shining down but thankfully not making one sweaty from a ten minute walk. “This is the one.”
You stop before the bakery taking in the bold letters of the bakery name with only one cursive S. “I love the pink.” You comment, pushing your way into the bakery.
Chan follows you after noticing the pink colored words. He stands behind you watching you examine the contents on display, quietly humming to the jazz music playing on the phonograph.
He leans over to whisper, “time’s running. Let’s get cream puffs for today, hmm? I’ll bring you here again.”
You nod. He goes over to the counter, “two cream puffs please.”
He watches the owner wrap the cream puffs delicately into a paper. You idle behind him, your eyes wide as you perceive the place. Handing over a few notes Chan accepts the treats, holding them gently, and guides you out of the bakery.
Ten minutes walk, and it should have at least been fifteen minutes in the bakery. All in all Chan should have twenty minutes to eat the puffs in peace.
“Follow me, please.” He leads you into a secluded street dense with huge trees, and towards a park. He dusts off a bench, “please have a seat.”
You don’t. You stay rooted in the grass, the scarf ends flying in the direction of the breeze. He checks the bench again to see if there’s dirt that is making you hesitant to sit. He doesn’t find anything. He slaps his head berating himself.
A renowned actress sitting on a bench? In a park that hasn’t seen more than three patrons in an entire week? What was he thinking?
You are watching him with mystified eyes, and your face almost covered he can’t get a good read of your expression. Are you… are you regretting coming out with him?
“I had a feeling you’ll be uncomfortable eating at the bakery,” he rubs his nape, looking down at his worn out shoes, a glint of shine on your pristine luxury heels catches his eyes. “We can.. we can go back.”
The black heels move closer to his once white shoes but now they are closer to your heels color. Chan’s ears prick in realisation, the contrast and the differences in choices.
You grab the paper cover he is coddling to his chest, and settle on the bench. “No one comes here right?”
Chan’s Adam’s apple bobs, he shakes his head. The birds coos from the nests on the tall branches, and the breeze is cooler here, the trees shielding the sun from finding them. If the sun that’s everywhere can’t find them he hopes that a stranger doesn’t.
You let out a big sigh, resting the paper cover on your thighs, you remove your glasses and scarf, “I was dying with all these layers.”
Chan should reply, and say that the scarf does look uncomfortable, and.. and something, anything. Words fail him again. Mind paused at the moment you started to peel the scarf off, stuck on how wisps of your hair fly under the breeze, and your eyes shining bright like the sun that has him look away, unable to take its shine.
He looks away, at the birds, the branches, the green moss sticking to the tree trunks. But he is back again. You close your eyes, enjoying the first bite of the sweet treat, leaning back on the bench, and an appreciative hum spilling out of you.
Chan feels his heart slowly picking its pace in his chest, you peel your eyes open, focusing on him, all he can hear is his own heart, and not one word of what you are saying.
You switch the half bitten cream puff to your other hand and tug his hand seeing him immobile even after calling his name a dozen times.
Chan topples into the iron bench, his body aching from the sudden impact. You hand him the other cream puff. He sees how your eyes strays to the unbitten cream puff, and back to his face.
“Have it, please.” He declines.
“Are you sure?”
He nods. You grin, your legs giddily swaying as you take another bite.
Chan turns away, staring at the squirrel that’s jumping around the tree. He grips his thighs hard, lower lip caught between his teeth. His heart doesn’t calm down, not even when he goes home that night.
“Hyung,” Chan whines to the older man sleeping on the bunk opposite to his. “What should I do, hyung? Tell me, help me please.”
Jeonghan grabs a pillow and presses it down on his ear, turning away from Chan and almost sticking himself to the wall.
“How can you sleep? When I’m having a health crisis? My heart feels like it’ll burst any moment.”
Jeonghan, seemingly done with his atrocities, blocks out Chan’s voice.
Chan flips onto his back, staring at the ceiling, hands behind his back, only remembering the white sugar powder sticking to your lips. And the happy humming voice to the more bizarre tunes he ever heard in his life.
It’s the best music of his life.
Chan sets down the cream puffs wrapped in a paper delicately on the table beside him. He prepares for the scene he has to shoot with you. It should have started by now, you and him, going to a party hosted by your love interest.
But Chan is stuck in this costume that itches his skin ever since the early hours of the day, and now, he can see the sun in its fullest form in the afternoon.
You are on the set, never once tardy to your shoots or commitments. Except this time, Seungcheol is in your vanity room, screaming at the top of his lungs.
Chan tucks today’s print of the newspaper headlining the sighting of the nation’s superstar with an unnamed actress underneath his arms. Seungcheol is snapped with a young actress, smoking his cigarette, a hand around her waist, looking intimate to even a kid.
Another sound of thrashing resonates the set, the quiet gasps picking up their voices, and concerned looks exchanging. Chan’s fears are coming true, you are near your eighth heartbreak, and he just watched it happen.
Maybe he should’ve plucked the courage and talked you out of it. You would have been spared of this heartbreak, and Chan would have seen the smiles that start small and spread all over your face, like a full sun shining down on you. Or, he would be crossing lines.
The fight has been going on for about an hour, Seungcheol crashing the set, and locking you two in your vanity. Not even the director dared to intervene in the lover’s quarrel.
Chan’s fingers itches over the script he is holding, the sharp edges pricking his skin, as he stares at the closed vanity room. He can’t hear you, and it has been quite over an hour, anxiousness brews inside his stomach.
What feels like an eternity later, restless and troublesome, the door to your vanity opens to a pissed Seungcheol. He puts on his shades and exits without sparing a glance back.
Chan sets down his script, jumping down the table, he takes three steps towards your room on impulse. Your manager shuts the door behind him, closing access to you, again. He lets out a frustrated sigh, rubbing his nape as he looks back at the cream puffs sitting on the table.
Why can’t he just go and meet you? See it with his own eyes that you are doing fine, despite the trash lover of yours, and the eighth heartbreak. He reels back at his own thoughts, why is he even counting the number of heartbreaks? Why is he acting like every other person on the planet? He hops back on the table, tapping his fingers on his thigh, waiting for you to come out and he can hopefully make you smile.
Why do you care? Jeonghan’s taunting voice echoes in his head. Lee Chan is nothing in your world, a mere acquaintance to whom you are nice. He shouldn’t involve himself in the intricate matters of yours. Shouldn’t cross the lines you carefully draw, with him, with the media, and with the world.
He shouldn’t care. He should care about the acting career he is building, his dream, and the rent due in a week.
The door to your room opens, the manager rushing towards the director, whispering in his ear. The director drops his head, shaking it, one furious glance at your room and he calls the spot boy.
Chan’s heart picks its beat. The spot boy is announcing the cancellation of the shoot. Shit. You never call off at work, he has read about your dedication and seen the days you were on set, the efforts you put in.
“You’ll be compensated accordingly.. the shoot resumes tomorrow..” the spot boy drones on.
Your manager and the director engaged in a heated discussion. Things are escalating out of hands, Chan worries his lower lip, the tension on the set is palpable. The crew is not happy with the turn of events. His ear twitches at the creak of a door opening, he catches the sight of a familiar scarf and the polka dots on the dress rushing past through the exit.
Chan grabs the cream puffs, almost crushing them in the hurry of following you. He is quick on his feet, dodging the stumped and lethargic workers closing up for the day.
The afternoon sun is harsh, sweat pooling already near his armpits. He squints at your retreating figure, walking past the New Yorkers, brushing past their shoulders, and apologizing as you turn away into a secluded street. Chan’s shoes crunches the leaves, and stray branches on the pavement, trying to keep you in his line of sight.
The walk took ten minutes until you stopped near a pond. Chan looks around the park that has never seen a human in a long time, but the water in the pond is surprisingly clean and maintained. How did he miss this place? The trees crowd the place, eager to occupy their rightful space, and ducks swim leisurely, their bodies swaying gently leaving ripples behind.
You sit on the grass, tucking your knees into your chest, hugging them. Chan settles down a few feet behind you, resting the sweet puffs next to him, hugging his knees and watching you.
Birds chirp, and the sounds of water helps him calm down, giving him time to admire you, your small figure curled into yourself, holding a beauty that can bring heavens down, and a personality that can make even a stranger swoon.
You let the scarf slip off your head, black hair swishes past, flying in tune of the soft breeze. Chan sighs, resting his chin on his arms that are propped up on his knees, his eyes trail down the smooth slope of your chin to your neck. The white pearl earring dangling as you tilt your head to the side, catching him from the corner of your eyes.
“Chan.”
His eyes widen at being caught, he ducks his head into his knees, embarrassed. He wanted this, to be near you in times of need, he followed you with the same mind, but why does he feel like submerging himself in the stream?
You are waiting for him to join you, watching him contemplate his next move. Chan picks up the sweet snack, a giddiness mixed with anxiousness in his stomach as his shoes crunch the grass, walking towards you.
You rest your cheek on your knee, the rays of sun falling on you, a beautiful contrast to your complexion. All Chan wants to do is sit and stare at your beauty, study the miniscule details of you, like the tiny moles almost invisible until one looks for them on purpose.
You pat the space next to you. Chan settles down, handing over the snack you have been eyeing ever since you called his name. There’s a melancholy in your gaze, a softness that’s entwined with sadness.
“I can’t eat them.” You turn away, gazing longingly at the soft ripples in the stream.
Chan’s heart sinks to his stomach, he looks down at the rejected sweet treats and remembers how much you loved them last time. “Why? If I may ask?”
You lick your lips, fingers shaking over your knees. Chan catches the slight wobble your chin makes. You wipe the corner of your eyes, “no one likes an actress who has some good fat to their body.”
Chan reels back, a frown sitting on his face as he glances down your petite frame. “Where the fuck is that coming from?” He bites his tongue, grimacing, “pardon my language but, I don’t see the need for you to cut down sugars.”
You laugh, sniffling, “such a good hearted man you are Chan,” you rest your cheek on your hands as you look at him, “is the sun blinding your vision? Everyone can see I put on weight after the,” you hesitate, dropping your eyes down to the grass, “one year break.”
Chan wants to grab your shoulders and shake these thoughts out of you. No, he wants to instill some sense into those commentators. All he does is sigh in exasperation, unable to understand what this world needs from a human.
The trees sways in a gentle breeze, tangling into your hair, swaying the strands according to its tune, Chan transfixes on how beautiful the dance is paired with your dangling pearl earring. The side of your face looking as if torn from one of the paintings hung in the art museum.
“You look beautiful,” he blurts out, “I, I mean, you look great,” he ducks his head, losing all of the confidence, “it’s of no question, I mean people lose their minds over you,” he read the articles how fans obsess over you, “beauty comes in all forms. If people do point fingers, then they lack an eye for art. And they don’t get to objectify beauty.”
Your cheeks turn into a beautiful shade of red that reminds him of a ripe strawberry. He shies away meeting your eyes that focus on him, stunned, and Chan can’t stay away for one more second, craving for another look. You are still staring at him, melting his heart into a gooey mess, slipping right through his fingers.
He doesn’t realise when he mitigated the gap between you two. He nudges your shoulder, in a playful jab, “alright?”
Your eyes water again sending him through a state of panic. A laugh tumbles through your wet lips as you lick them shakily. You let out a loud sigh, “Chan,” you face the soft rippling stream, stray leaves sailing through the waters, “you put me in a high place I am not worthy of. If-If I am of such great value why would love never hold my hand.
“I am not sure if you ever read the other articles, the ones that are picked by thousands, going in details of my,” you pluck the ends of your scarf, fingers subtly shaking, “my love life,” you steal a worried glance at him, “even if you don’t, this morning, is enough gist of my life.
“Sometimes, during the deepest of the nights, I don’t wish to be wanted, or be a feast to a stranger's eye but to a lover’s. Thousands of serenades, only to be sung to everyone. And still—” Chan’s heart lodges in his throat seeing you so small “—I don’t say anything. One time I ask, and all I receive is a reminder of my shortcomings.”
Chan tries his best to school his anger in, not to show it in the form of jaw clench and an itching fist to hit the nation’s superstar. “That’s not love.” But his anger manifests in the form of harsher words, “and you are wrong thinking that you are doing what is right. It is not.”
He continues despite the tears spilling down your cheeks, “that is punishing yourself, Ms. Jung. Accepting whatever form of love just because you are yearning for it, is not the right move.”
You need to hear this. He is not sure if you have anyone beside you who can help see the picture, at least from the outsider’s perspective. “You might find my words bitter, but that’s not love. Accepting one’s infidelity is hitting the final nail on the coffin. Hence your misfortune, and the pain.”
“I.. I can’t afford another failure,” Chan can barely make out your shaky voice, “my patience is running out. And maybe, the willingness of my heart too. Eight times, Chan, eight times I gave and gave, only to be deceived.
“Seokmin wanted other things, didn’t want to move to the suburbs and have kids. But,” a sob escapes your lips, “funny how he relinquished his career for a love, now living in the suburbs with a couple of kids.
“Seungcheol,” you wipe the corner of your eyes, the tears now a waterfall, a force unable to stop and your pain a rushing river to the sea, finally finding a way, “he promised me fidelity, he promised me marriage, kids and my suburban dream. Only to,” you gasp, “only to go and promise the other girl. Life is cruel, Chan, I would have given up this life in a blink of an eye if they really gave me love, but everyone loves my fame more than me.”
Chan is lost for words, and Chan is never out of words. He always has something to say. Seeing you in distress, broken in this beautiful morning, has him searching for words. Because you, out of anyone, should be loved the way you deserve, as if it’s a given like breathing.
But maybe, this is the price of being a top actress in Hollywood. Liked by all but loved by none.
Chan accompanies you in your silence. He isn’t well-versed in love, he barely had a crush throughout his life, often occupied in the farms with his father or daydreaming of his big break as an actor.
You slowly reach to the cream puffs, the paper rustling underneath your fingers as you unwrap them, and bite into the fluffy sweet treat. The white powder, eager to touch your beauty, sits onto the corner of your lips, cheeks puffy with the food stashed away, as you gobble it up.
“What,” you shy away, “all the crying made me hungry. And you told me I look beautiful anyway.”
Chan lets out a hearty laugh, gripping the trousers, squashing the urge to squeeze your cheeks. “You do.”
You nudge his shoulder, playfully, “look away.”
He does, only crawling back to you. His heart dares again, dreaming big, losing control. A tiny flicker of flame burns inside him, giving him a taste of the love you just spoke of.
Oh, he realises watching you laugh at your clumsy eating, spilling the crumbs all over, he’s falling.
Chan inhales deeply. The air in Kansas is always different, always carrying a familiarity and comfort. Uneasiness and fatigue from the long shifts and shoots slowly exits from his body, as the bus takes him to his home.
The wide expanse of fields settles his heart, bringing him back to the times things were simple. He leans his head on the rattling window, reminiscing the past few days. You are back into your form, slowly but surely, the shooting was a delight again, Junhui is a sweetheart he didn’t expect to be.
Chan loves the sets of his first movie, cherishing each second to his heart. Especially he gets to see you, spend time with you, and silently lose his heart to you.
Seungcheol didn’t come to the site in the past two weeks, and Chan couldn’t be much happier. His absence has brought out your sunshine.
The familiar roads of his town have Chan quirk up, sitting straighter, craning his neck, and spotting his little brother waiting for him at the stop.
The bus rolls to a stop. Chan lugs his luggage, waiting patiently yet impatiently letting the others get down. It’s been so long since he met his family, close to a year almost.
There’s always a sense of comfort one’s hometown brings, no matter how high one chases, and the dreams they achieve, nothing beats the feeling of walking down the streets they played and grew up.
“Actor Lee Jung Chan!” His brother makes a performatory bow, “welcome to our humble abode.”
Chan pushes him, face burning in embarrassment. “Stop it.” He grits.
It only makes him laugh, grabbing the luggage from his older brother, shouldering it and scanning him from the head to toe. He grumbles, “when I think you can’t get more handsome.”
Chan throws his hand around the younger, “that’s a minimum quality for an actor.”
He barfs, “ego reached all time high.”
Chan laughs, ruffling his hair. “Where’s dad? Can’t wait to see him.”
Chan walks through the fields of sunflowers—still in their early stages of growth. He delicately touches the plants, refreshing his mind of how they feel.
“Tell me about this movie, Chan.” His father hollers over his shoulder, a twinge of excitement in his voice.
A sense of pride fills in Chan’s chest. It’s been so long, too long, waiting for this moment, to prove something to his parents, to show his skill, and it’s not a vain dream.
“It’s under bliss production, remember the noir movie with Choi Seungcheol?” He helps his dad, shielding him from the burning afternoon sun, as he checks the water for the plants.
His dad gives a grunt, remembering all four of them travelling for thirty minutes to go to a cinema palace to watch that movie.
“Bliss production is behind that cinema,” he excitedly adds, “and behind the bride, the one I’m working on, too.”
There’s a shine in his father’s eyes, even if it’s for a split second, and Chan feels the hard work he put in pay off, and a new jest birthing inside him. More, more, he wants more, to be the lead, to fill the palaces with audience, and to show his range as an actor.
“Ah,” his father moves on, walking ahead with his hands behind his back, “not the hero, is it?”
Chan nods. Soon, he will be one.
“One step at a time.” His father nods, more to himself, “and, remember, don’t ever let anyone dictate what you can, or cannot do.”
“Yes, dad.”
“Always dream big.”
“Ma,” Chan rolls over to the side, resting on the bed after a hearty meal. “Ma,” he whines, “are you sleeping already?”
His mother whines back, but answers affectionately knowing that her son is going back the next morning, “what now, Chan?”
He hesitates, stumbling in his own world on how to bring forth the topic of love or the introduction to you— given they do know you but not the relation you have with him. A close friend to you after the long heartfelt conversation near that pond, a one-sided love to him, in hopes that he will achieve this other big dream of his.
“Why did you disturb my sleep only to stay silent?” His mother grumbles, “when will you ever let go of this chatty habit of yours, Chan?”
He rolls his eyes in the darkness, “I know you miss it.”
She chuckles, reminiscing, “you were a loud kid, always filled with questions and curiosity. I do miss it, sometimes.”
His heart swells at the adoration his mom holds for him. He turns to you, “say, you love someone.”
“I don’t love someone, Chan, what are you talking about?” She hits him.
“Ma, that’s a figure of speech, not literally, wait, don’t you love dad?”
She hits him again, only freezing midway, gasping, “Chan, you love someone, don’t you?”
“Hold your horses,” Chan tries to do damage control hearing his mom’s excitement about the newly formed love life of her son. He is twenty-seven years old for god’s sake and still unmarried. “I said figuratively. Not literally.”
“Figuratively, shmeatively,” she tuts. “Ask me your question.”
“So,” Chan begins, “there’s a man you love, who is A-1, and you can’t help but fall for them. What would you do?”
“Who is she?” His mom’s curiosity makes him laugh.
“Ma,” he whines, “answer me. What will you do?”
She hums, thinking. “If I really love him,” she shies to say, “I will sing to him.”
Chan teases, “you got the game. Is this why dad sings to you?”
She hits his head, “now, when are you singing to your lover?”
Chan sighs, “one can hope. It’s hard, there are so many,” he waves his hand, “when the time comes. But until then I’m going to do my best.”
Chan’s bus is not for one more hour, he idles around plucking out and examining the new additions to his home when his eyes fall onto the newspaper.
He is quick to grab it, his eyes widen as he reads the article.
The bridesmaid is once again soon-to-be bride!
Overcoming the hurdles in their relationship with her beau, and the noir of the Hollywood, Choi Seungcheol, Ms. Jung, also known for her tragic love life, is now no longer mere lovers, but soon-to-be wedded couple.
The allegations of Choi Seungcheol’s infidelity with a young actress are proven wrong with his bold move of going down on his knee. The prideful actor known for his flings, is ready to tie down a knot with none other than the audience’s favorite bridesmaid, Ms. Jung.
The actress is happy realising her dreams, albeit for the second time, but people are hopeful she will really achieve her dream and not move onto her ninth love.
ROOM 217.
part of the puttin' on the ritz collaboration with @studiosvt
pairing: lee jihoon x f!reader
genre: smut, hotel owner/speakeasy manager x server
summary: fresh starts are hard, but running away from your mafia husband is even harder. after escaping the protection of the lucky ace gang and fleeing to new york city, you find lee jihoon, a reserved yet enigmatic hotel owner. the hotel ruby conceals a popular speakeasy, the velvet ruby, within its walls. it takes some convincing, but jihoon eventually offers you a job, a chance at stability and anonymity. but every swanky hotel has its secrets. when you stumble upon the locked door to room 217, nothing could prepare you for what’s waiting on the other side.
warnings: dom!woozi, power imbalance, a lot of obsession, masturbation, oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex, slightly inexperienced reader, mentions of family death, reader's husband is in a gang, 1920s gang-related violence, use of pet names (angel), woozi is deeply infatuated with reader but it borders onto an insane level = light stalking, also insane rational on the readers part for woozi's obsession (aka these two are freaks). nsfw (minors / ageless blogs dni).
word count: 20.9k
note: this fic is a part of the puttin' on the ritz collab hosted by @studiosvt. the team at @studiosvt were so cool to let me participate again and I had a lot of fun writing freaky hotel owner jioon 😈 this is the second time now I've done a collab with them and I've made the member I got an obsessive freak, not sure if that says something about me but . anywho! make sure you check out the other stories in this collab 💘 (taglist posted at the bottom.)
in rotation: just me and you, the dreamliners / off to the races, lana del rey / love me or leave me, ruth etting / cherry, lana del rey / a little death, the neighbourhood / ruby, woozi
Inheriting the Hotel Ruby from his great grandfather had started out honest. A ritzy, well-known hotel that was in dire need of a upgrade was exactly what Jihoon wanted to get his life back on track. Being born into the Lucky Ace gang hadn’t been easy, but escaping it at the mere age of 21 was a feat in itself. Jihoon had experienced it all: violence, homelessness, grief, until finally coming into money. Why his great grandfather had deemed him worthy enough to include in his will – he had no idea. But he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
He was so sure he was going to make all the money back that was used for renovations, but when the hotel opened around the time of the stock market’s rapid expansion, no one was traveling. No one was wasting their money for flings in a swanky, New York City hotel. Instead, they were pouring their cash into the stock market and hoping for monetary gain. He had a full staff at the hotel, eager for pay, families to feed. He needed the money. In a time of failing businesses and social collapse, Jihoon had nowhere to turn.
This was where the Velvet Ruby came in.
Nestled in a hidden part of the hotel lobby, behind a password protected door, was a speakeasy. Jihoon pulled together the last of his savings, praying for a win, to decorate the old backroom of the hotel into the most swell joint he had ever seen. He had gotten lucky with the location: a speakeasy in an infamous hotel, right in Manhattan, where people were desperate for alcohol … It wasn’t long before the Velvet Ruby was the most popular juice joint for New York’s elite.
Jihoon didn’t want to reach out to old friends, but the only way to smuggle alcohol in was through bootleggers. He typically relied on smugglers from Canada to bring in his moonshine and other popular liquor from distilleries. Using people connected to the Lucky Aces and other gangs, Jihoon created a network of bootleggers so that he never, not once, ran out of alcohol to sell.
With his bartender and partner in crime, Kwon Soonyoung, they ran the Velvet Ruby like the military. Every employee at the hotel was paid fairly, and they even had enough to hire the finest entertainment and several servers that were looking to make a buck. Soonyoung was one of the best cocktail mixers around, and if you were lucky enough, sometimes he got up on the mic to belt out a tune.
The hotel business was steady, but the speakeasy earnings were pulling them through a harsh autumn. Even through the success, Jihoon still had bad days. Days when the music got too loud or the loneliness of leaving his family crept up on him. Sometimes the only warmth he could feel was when he stood outside in the cold rain, inhaling smoke from the cigarette in his gloved fingers, as he watched the light above his hotel flicker.
But if days like this didn’t come up, he probably wouldn’t have met you.
You were standing in the rain, soaked to the bone, when your eyes met his outside the Hotel Ruby. Hair wet and clutching what looked like a torn suitcase, Jihoon stubbed out his cigarette and opened the door for you without a word. You brushed past him, but he could feel you shivering. Water dripped from your coat and onto the plush red carpet, but Jihoon had never been the type to chastise a woman for anything. Not even for ruining his carpet.
He slipped behind the front desk at the lobby because Wonwoo had probably fallen asleep on break. Without looking up from the guest book, he asked, “Looking for a room?”
“Actually, a job.”
Jihoon’s head lifted. The night had shrouded most of your face outside, but now that he was looking at you under the warm lights of the lobby, his body froze. Despite your wet hair clinging to your face, there was a natural beauty about you. Something to be admired. The kind of face that didn’t belong in a seedy city, but somewhere gentle, warm. Your face stood out in a place like New York, where crime and gambling ran rampant.
You weren’t from here.
“We don’t have any positions open at the hotel,” he replied.
“I – I’m n-not –” You stuttered, teeth chattering. The handle of your suitcase shook in your lithe fingers. Voice lowering, you continued, “I’m not asking for a job at the hotel.”
It clicked then, and his brow raised. How did someone like you find out about the speakeasy? He couldn’t dwell on it, not when you had pertinent information. With a cock of his head, he led you into the manager’s office behind the front desk, locked with a golden key. Wonwoo was slumped in a cushioned chair by the door, waking up when the edge hit his foot. Jihoon side-eyed him, and he skedaddled before he could be reprimanded.
Moving the stack of bills to the floor, Jihoon sat down behind the desk and gestured for you to take the seat in front of him. You settled into the chair warily, still shivering, and just the sight of a pretty thing like you suffering made him pause. He stood and rounded the desk, reaching a hand out. You looked up at him with confusion. “Let me help,” he muttered. “Take your jacket off. It’s soaked.”
“O-Oh,” you nodded, sliding the wet material off and handing it over.
Jihoon averted his gaze when he realized your were wearing a white blouse underneath, the line of your undergarments clearly visible beneath the soggy fabric. Clearing his throat, he hung up your jacket before draping an old trench coat over your shoulders that he kept in the closet. You pursed your lips, and he was pretty sure he heard something that resembled, Thank you, sir.
Plopping back down in his chair, the first thing he said was, “You’re not from around here.”
Your mouth opened, but his words caught you off guard. After a beat, you replied, “No. I’m from up north. I took a bus to the city.”
“How did you find out about the Velvet Ruby?”
He was so blunt, his tone like a dagger. You almost didn’t expect it from someone like him. He was broad-shouldered, with dark eyes that spoke to what little sleep he got and slicked-back hair. Two inches shorter than you and smelling like a combination of cigars and expensive cologne, but his words cut sharper than a blade. You hugged the trench coat more on your shoulders.
“It’s because – I’m not –” You exhaled heavily. Your first instinct was to lie – always lie. It had become a habit after you married Han. Rubbing underneath your nose, you decided to be truthful: “I found out because I know the right people. I’m running away from my ex-husband.”
His brow shot up. “Divorced?”
“I don’t have the money to even get divorced. My family is flat. I married up, until I realized …” You smoothed a hand over your tired eyes.
He licked his lips, realizing how much your expression had soured. His back straightened in the chair and he laced his fingers together on the desk. “Listen, you don’t have to tell me, angel.”
The nickname made your gaze flicker to his, and you both let it hang in the air for a moment. The office was so quiet that you could probably hear a pin drop. So you cleared your throat. “No,” you muttered, “I probably should.”
He watched your chin fall into your palm, your eyes haunted and somewhere else. Whatever you had experienced left an imprint on you, a bruise that wouldn’t heal. A wave of protectiveness washed over him and he had no clue why. He didn’t know you, didn’t know what you’d been through, but for some reason, he felt the need to crush whoever made you this way.
“Everything okay?” He asked over a long beat of silence.
“I’m trying to fight the urge to lie to you.”
“Oh.”
You finally sat back up, pushing strands of wet hair behind your ear. Your lobe was pointed, something so characteristically you. “My husband’s friend is one of your bootleggers. He sources your gin and rum from Canada. Both him and Han are part of the Lucky Ace gang.”
It dawned on him then – he forgot some of the Lucky Aces reached as far as the north east. They were one of the most spread-out gangs on the eastern part of the U.S., but with the likes of the Chicago Outfit maintaining superiority amongst the crime syndicate, it was hard to believe they were still out there, past the boundary of New York State.
Suddenly, Jihoon felt his breath still. “Han,” he repeated, the name tasting burnt on his tongue. “As in Cheon Han?”
You swallowed, mouth refusing to open.
“Your husband is one of the leaders of Lucky Ace,” he said, though he was sure you knew that from the look on your face. “I grew up with him, until he moved … North.” It was all clicking in his head then: the day they met in elementary school; Jihoon’s 18th birthday when Han revealed he was moving in with his uncle; the night he got the news from his father that “his old friend” had went up in the ranks of Lucky Ace up North, surpassing folks older than him.
“Oh, my god.” He moved his chair back, surprised when it hit the wall. “I can’t hire you. I can’t house you. That’s asking for a death wish.”
“Only if he finds out,” you were quick to say. “I’m not asking for shelter. I got an apartment for myself outside Manhattan. I just need a job to pay for it.”
Jihoon shook his head. “He’ll kill me.”
“Let’s be honest, he never does the killing. One of his torpedos will do it for him.”
He paused, because he knew you were right, and it wasn’t exactly helping your case. You placed a hand on the desk, as if to reach out to him, but your fingers were trembling so much. The tips were red, so warm compared to the rest of your body. When he met your eyes again, they were pleading. “Please,” you said, “I wouldn’t ask for help if I wasn’t desperate. I’m good with customers. I can … I can be a server. I have good balance –”
“All my servers are male. I only hire female dancers.”
Your face fell. “I’m not a dancer. But I can … please. I know you don’t know me, but I’m asking you to take a chance.”
Jihoon stood, his mind swirling with possibilities. He paced in front of the door and ran a hand through his hair. She’s Han’s wife. They’re not even divorced. She’s running away from him. Fucking Christ, if he finds her here, he’s going to kill me –
A hand latched around his wrist. He turned, meeting your eyes.
“He won’t find me,” you promised. “He’s too busy with his deals to ever come home and I planted a seed within his friend group that I was going even further south to see distant relatives. He would never guess I’d be in New York. And if he does …” You looked down, realizing you were still gripping him. His skin was pale and cold, but not as icy as yours. Sucking in a breath, you pulled your hand away. “I’ll make sure I suffer the consequences. Not you. I swear."
It was a gamble. You were a gamble. And he quit betting a long time ago, after a risky night at a underground casino with Soonyoung on his 29th birthday. Jihoon had never been entirely sympathetic, had never let himself be swayed by anybody, and yet … The warmth in your eyes left him stunned. Frightened. Like he could feel the whole world turning on its axis, and there was nothing he could do about it.
He sighed, and then rubbed at his eyes. “The men who come into the joint aren’t kind.”
“I’ve survived my fair share of unkind men.”
“You’d be the only female server. I won’t go easy on you just because you’re a woman.”
“That’s okay. Nothing has ever been easy for me.” You adjusted the coat on your shoulders. “Are you offering me the job?”
He closed his eyes, wondering if he should back out now, but he was already nodding, holding out his hand for you to shake. “Name’s Lee Jihoon. I’ll be your boss.”
“Jihoon,” you repeated, lips pulling into a wide grin. You told him your name, but he decided then that the only name he wanted to call you was angel.
You supposed it didn’t exactly matter what you wore to your first shift, but you planned on being more put together than yesterday. A fresh shower in your new apartment and a couple rollers later, you looked more spiffy than the women having brunch at the Ritz. Your hair was perfectly curled, red smeared onto your lips in a perfect cupid’s bow, and you wore a simple, button-down plum dress. One that you made sure to iron before leaving the apartment.
Jihoon asked you to be on the premises an hour before the speakeasy opened, which was usually around 9 to 10 PM. Naturally, you arrived at 8:45, having just enough time for a cigarette with your hood up. You were on guard these days, never taking a chance to reveal more than half of your face, especially when indulging in your worst habit. After taking one last inhale, you crushed the death stick with the heel of your flat and walked inside the hotel.
You expected to see Jihoon there – behind the front desk, talking to a bellhop, anywhere – but the lobby was empty besides Wonwoo with the guest book. He waved awkwardly to you, looking like a beanstalk in his uniform that hardly fit his long legs. You cowered in on yourself, tucking your hands into your jacket, as you prepared for someone from your past to jump out. Wonwoo was probably looking at you like you lost your marbles.
“Hey, big shot!”
You turned at the loud voice, seeing the back door slam open behind Wonwoo, and the taller male almost jumped out of his skin. Another male with curled dark hair stepped out, just a few inches under Wonwoo, clapping his hands in your direction. He wore a black dress shirt and tie, accompanied by a pair of baggy slacks with the ends tucked into tall, tiger-print socks and leather shoes.
He looked insane, and yet … surprisingly on trend.
When you were within feet of him, he pulled you in by your hand, his grip stronger than you assumed. “Name’s Soonyoung. You’re the new one Jihoon let in, yes?” You nodded, and with your hand still in his, he pressed a kiss to your knuckles. His smile was mischievous, but weirdly contagious. “Look at you all dolled up for the first night. As lovely as …” He fingered the collar of your dress and attempted not to grimace. “… This is, you do have a uniform. Which I adapted from what the men wear.”
Wonwoo tossed him a pair of clothes from one of the desk compartments and Soonyoung caught it without missing a beat. He placed the uniform into your arms and spun you around, pointing to the public restrooms. “Change please,” he instructed, although it was more like a demand when he pushed you forward in that direction.
The uniform was tighter than you assumed, but that was a given when you didn’t get anyone your measurements. It still fit, the flared black skirt hugging your waist just right. Soonyoung paired it with a white, collared blouse and an apron that secured around your middle. You hadn’t realized he’d given you an old pair of kitten heels, the leather worn-out at the toe. After slipping on some sheer black tights, you stuck your feet in the shoes and prayed you’d get used to them. You’d never been a pro with heels.
Walking out, Soongyoung sent you smirk of approval before gesturing that you follow him. Wonwoo gave you one last nervous wave, all lanky and long-limbed, before you quickly trailed behind your new tiger-socked friend. He led you down the corridor to the left of the hotel’s entrance, and you noticed the lights getting dimmer the further you got from the lobby. You held your old clothes close to your chest, wary. When you reached the end of the hall, Soonyoung checked you were still behind him and presented the door in front of you both. It was tall and made of iron, with a window slot in the middle that was currently closed. Soonyoung knocked on the door in a specific pattern – two hard knocks, pause, one soft knock, three more hard knocks, slam your palm on the surface – and the window slot opened, revealing a pair of dark eyes.
A whiney voice emerged. “You wanna do that password again for me?”
“Oh, just open the door, Seungcheol!”
The bouncer chuckled, slamming the window shut before tearing the heavy door open. Seungcheol gave you a look as you strode past him, almost tripping in your heels when he winked. Soonyoung looked over his shoulder, glaring at the bouncer, before looping his arm through yours. “Don’t mind him. He’s an ass, but overly friendly. Has a wife at home,” your new friend explained.
Showing you the coat closet, he had you secure your clothes in your own locker before meeting him back out on the speakeasy floor. The joint was small, but clearly prestigious. The lights above where faint and colored in warm tones like yellow and red. Each circular table around the room fit at least four people, decorated with a red velvet tablecloth and a singular rose in the middle. A stage was set up at the front for live entertainment, and you saw a few dancers practicing their routine for tonight. The bar looked new, made out of dark maple and stocked full with every liquor imaginable. This place in fact was the real deal.
Soonyoung raised his arms. “Welcome to the Velvet Ruby.”
“It’s …” You crossed your arms over your chest, eyes scanning the room. “Very dark.”
“Yeah, tell me about it,” he gabbed, arm laced through yours again as you both flitted about the rooms. “Depending on the crowd, we won’t give you more than three tables. Just because it’s a small amount, doesn’t mean your attention shouldn’t constantly be on them. This is a business and we’re selling liquor. If someone isn’t being bum rushed out of here because their too canned to walk, I’m not doing my job right. You’ll typically find me mixing behind the bar with Seokmin, but don’t be mistaken. It is my bar.”
You nodded. “Noted.”
“Rules of the house,” Soonyoung continued, rounding the corner as they reached the seats at the bar. He held up three fingers. “No violence with patrons. No touching from patrons. And absolutely no questions about past lives.”
You began to nod in agreement when the sound of two bodies hitting each other emanated behind them. Your head spun out of instinct, seeing two of your fellow servers – one, a shorter man with reddish-brown hair and an otter-like smile; the other, a big six with hulking shoulders, strong muscles, and perfect features like wavy, black hair and honeyed skin. They greeted each other loudly, their raised voices making you flinch instantly.
Just a sound could take you back to Han. To the nights you heard him getting scrappy with one of his torpedos, right behind the door of your shared bedroom. To the days he yelled at his right-hand man as you prepared coffee in the kitchen, and then his hand gripping your apron as if to anchor himself to you before he clocked his friend in the kisser.
Han had never been violent with you. Never touched a hair on your head. But to be married to a gangster was to see a threat at every turn. How long would it be until one of his enemies got the upper hand?
“You got the heebie-jeebies or something?” Soonyoung asked, and you whipped your head back to him. But he noticed the look in your eyes, how scattered you were, and with a soft smile, he placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “It’s okay. You’re safe here. I’ll tell Chan and Mingyu to pipe down.”
You schooled your expression – one of the many skills Han had taught you once he revealed his true identity. Your shoulders squared and you cleared your throat. “I know. I’m just … getting used to being the only female server.”
He laughed. “Yeah, Jihoon kind of set you up for failure with that one. Especially in this city.”
You raised a brow.
“Not that I think you’re going to fail. I’m sure you’re swell. It’s just …” He closed his mouth, realizing that he was going on a tangent. “I should let Jeonghan take over.”
Soonyoung yanked over another tall male with dark hair that reached his shoulders, almost making him drop all the glasses on his tray onto the floor. Jeonghan shook his head at the bartender before introducing himself to you. His slender build was similar to Wonwoo’s, but he wasn’t as broad.
Jeonghan brought you over to one of the tables to explain the basics of serving: how to write out your orders, address customers, and when to exactly cut them off. “The hardest part of being a server isn’t even about interaction,” he explained, and then lifted his full tray of empty glasses on his shoulder. “It’s about learning how to balance. Never, ever, break a glass.”
You nodded, jotting down notes in your server book. Guests were beginning to pour in, but Mingyu and Chan took the lead while Jeonghan showed you the ropes. Businessmen strolled through with women that probably weren’t their wives. Even a few flappers made their presence known, requesting Mingyu as their server specifically for one of the ladies in the friend group. You tried to focus over the noise and be present with Jeonghan, but your eyes couldn’t help but drift around the room, until they finally landed at the corner of the bar.
Jihoon leaned against the edge, a lit cigar between his teeth as he spoke to Soonyoung. And it seemed his eyes were drawn to you too, because only a few seconds later, you were the only thing he could focus on.
Sitting on the cold wooden floor of your apartment, back pressed against the side of the twin-sized bed, you dug out a small box from underneath the frame. One of the little things you made sure to pack before leaving, the gift box was old and torn, the vintage paper from when your mom was a child. You placed it in front of your crossed legs, your work heels discarded just a few feet away. The time was nearing 3 AM and you’d just gotten back from the Velvet Ruby, but your hands were itching for this, for the memories.
Lifting the cover off, you smiled at the pile of rectangular photos from years past. You picked up the first one off the top: an overexposed shot of you and your mother from when you were a child. It was the time you were sick, so she dressed you up in the prettiest clothes and had a photoshoot with you, as if you were her little doll. Your big grin, one tooth missing in the front, a red nose from sniffling. It was a good memory – a really, really good memory.
Your hands pilfered through the family photos: the one of you and your grandparents, your first day working for your parents’ laundromat, your 16th birthday party. Each a crucial part of your childhood. Setting the plethora of memories to the side, you picked up a photo that felt like a lifetime ago: you, leaning against a telephone pole outside, wearing your mother’s old wedding dress that came to your ankles because you were much taller than her. The smile on your face was different, and when you flipped to the next shot, you knew why. It was the day you and Han got married at the courthouse. His hands were in yours, his eyes on you, while you were looking at your father’s camera. The court clerk was in the middle of almost dropping his booklet when the image was captured. You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself. This was when things were good, when Han was just a customer you met at the laundromat.
You flicked through the photos, noticing the way your eyes changed in each one. As if your fear of the unknown and the weight of being your husband’s moll had made you lose your sparkle. Even in the shot from your first anniversary – which you had taken of both of you, sitting on the beach in some warmer state, albeit on a day where you were so happy – there was something in your smile. The first inklings of uncertainty. Because even on this day – one of your favorite days with him – he had gotten a letter with a threat sent to their hotel room near the beach. And it had become clear then that you might have fallen in love with one of the most dangerous men.
One of the last shots at the bottom was a picture he asked your father to take after the wedding. You both stood in the middle of the courthouse, him holding your wrist as you presented your hand out, the ring on your finger glinting in the lens. Standing on both sides of you were men that you deemed as his friends at the time, unaware that they were his associates in the Lucky Ace gang. Now that the dust had settled, you wondered if you had just been blind, because you most certainly remembered one of them having a shiv in his suit to defend Han at a moment’s notice.
But you didn’t think anything of it. You didn’t need to. Because he hadn’t been truthful with you in the first place.
With a heavy exhale, you buried all the photos of Han to the bottom of the box. You couldn’t dwell on the past or else you’d be filled with dread. Reaching into your apron, you pulled out a new addition for your collection: a photo Jihoon had requested to be taken of him all his staff at the Velvet Ruby. This photo spoke of new beginnings, one where you’d stop being afraid of what would happen next. Because you were protected here; everyone promised you that.
In the photo, Soonyoung was standing to Jihoon’s left, one arm around him while holding up his other hand, curled like a cat’s paw. Beside him was Chan and Mingyu, and then Jeonghan with Seungcheol on the corner. On the other side were a few servers you had been introduced to that day – Vernon and Minghao – both sporting the same unamused expression, with the other bartender, Seokmin. You were standing to the right of Jihoon, lips pulled into a soft smile while his arm slipped around your waist, yet hovering. Your heels made you feel like a tower next to him, but he was still the most important, confident man in the room.
When he had given you the photo a few days later, you assumed it was because this was one of the damaged copies. The brightness of the image, the way Mingyu was mid-talking to Chan. But still, you couldn’t help to ask, “Why are you giving me this?”
“I like having pictures. They’re a good memento.” He tapped his finger against the flimsy paper before meeting your gaze. “And I want you to have a good memory. To show you that there will always be a place where you will be safe.”
It took a couple weeks to get into the swing of things, but it felt like you had finally established yourself in a new place. And you did it on your own. You didn’t flinch anymore at sudden footsteps and raised voices, although you did have to tell Mingyu to shut it every once in a while. You slowly got the hang of serving and attending to wealthy patrons, even picked up a few regulars that came by at least once a week. Much to your excitement, they were mostly women – a group of flappers looking to gossip about their dates or dance to whatever live band Jihoon hired that night.
As it turned out, working in such an energetic place was great exposure therapy.
Jihoon checked in on you regularly: before close, when you hung out by yourself at the bar. He’d meet you outside when you had a cigarette on your break. He asked you questions no one else did: Where do you see yourself in 10 years? Is everyone treating you well? Are you happy? Sometimes, he’d walk with you to the bus station, wait beside you until it came, and when you asked him why, he’d be so nonchalant.
“This is on my way home anyway,” he’d say.
And you’d tilt your head. “The bus station?”
“Yes, I live … just over yonder,” he explained with an awkward wave of his hand. “I should get going.”
Your apartment could be scary at times, especially for a woman living on your own. Sometimes you’d wake up in the middle of the day – since you worked long into the early morning hours – hearing your neighbors argue over the price of milk. Insistent door knocking startled you before it became clear that no one was at your door at all; they were downstairs. Every loud noise outside your window sounded like a gunshot at first, until you realized that it wasn’t. It was just the kids on the sidewalk playing with wooden blocks.
But you found solace at the Velvet Ruby – in a routine, in seeing your coworkers. Your friends. They were kind and made you laugh, the happiness returning to your eyes again. With them, you were safe.
Jihoon made you feel safe.
And then, December 1st came.
Soonyoung was keeping you at the bar as he slowly made two Gin Rickeys for one of your tables. The drink was simple – club soda, lime juice, and of course, gin – but he had a better time holding you hostage there with a story from last night, which he told rather exuberantly. “And there I was, wearing my favorite socks – you know, the ones with the tiger pattern?” He asked, giving you no time to nod before he was continuing. “I was cleaning up the bar when Laurie – you know her? One of the hoofers Jihoon hired to come dance every week? Dark hair, big brown eyes. Anyway, she comes up to me –”
You watched him gradually poor the lime juice into both glasses before looking over your shoulder to see your patrons bored of their minds. Not even the pianist on stage could keep their attention.
“– And she wants to see me past work hours. Complimented my socks and everything. Didn’t realize someone had a crush. Isn’t that just the bee’s knees?” He slapped the top of your hand, making you swing back to him. “Are you even listening?”
You blinked. “Oh, um – Laurie’s stuck on you. Anything else?”
Soonyoung glared at you and poured a shot of gin into each glass. “Maybe I should ask her on a date next time I see her. What do you think?”
“Well, do you like her?” Your eyes slid to the right, where Jihoon stood in the corner of the joint. He put a cigar to his lips while Seungcheol whispered something in his ear, and then his gaze was on yours, making the hairs on your arm stand up. For what reason – you had no idea. Yet.
“She’s pretty.”
You flickered back to Soonyoung. “Then you should go on a date with her.” Your hands wrapped around the two Gin Rickeys. “If you’ll excuse me, my table is about to fall asleep if I don’t get these to them.”
You turned, foot coming out to step forward, when two people breezed past you and you almost forgot to breathe. It was a man with a woman on his arm, and his face … it was something out of a nightmare, out of one of the pictures you had looked at weeks ago. But it couldn’t be him. Minho never let his hair grow that long, and he swore he’d never leave Han’s side, not even for a vacation. It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be possible.
Minho was one of your husband’s enforcers in Lucky Ace, his right-hand man for all problems. A shield, but also a brother to him if he needed it. Which meant he was a brother to you too – however, you never let him get close enough. You kept Minho at an arm’s length, a hard task given the fact that he was almost always with your husband. Except for right now. If that was him.
Most likely, it wasn’t. But what if it was?
This had to be your anxiety talking and you weren’t going to let it win today. Not after all the progress you made. You avoided the table he sat and thanked your lucky stars that you didn’t have to be their server. Pulling Mingyu away from one of his regulars – a blonde flapper named Kallie, who skirted around the rule of not touching the wait staff with lingering caresses and eyes that spoke trouble – you informed him to not let you near that table under any circumstances. Typically, Mingyu would crack at joke in this moment, but when he saw the serious look in your eyes, he knew this was important.
Keeping your face turned away from his table was harder than you assumed, but when it was finally nearing closing and you were getting back your last check of the night, you thought maybe you survived. Maybe you could sneak a peak now to see if it really was Minho. You just had to swing by the bar and drop off this money –
A warm palm latched around your arm.
Eyes wide, you turned, seeing Minho so plastered that his Old Fashioned was sloshing over the sides of the glass in his hand. You were petrified, body going ice cold. Because it was him – it was fucking Minho. In the flesh. Right before your eyes. His hand feeling like an iron brand on your bicep, as if he could burn through your blouse.
What was he doing here? How did he find you? Did Han set him up to this –
“H-Hey,” he slurred, drool trickling from the corner of his mouth. The woman beside him was tugging on his arm and begging to leave. “Don’t I know … know you from sssssomewhere?”
“I – I –” The words were clogging in your throat. You tried to tug your arm free, but he wouldn’t let go. Oh, my god – he wasn’t going to let go. He was going to take you back to Han and the woman with him was just a ploy and – fuckfuckfuck –
“No touching my servers.”
Your arm was yanked free by a strong arm suddenly appearing on your left. Stumbling back, you caught yourself on the edge of a table as you recognized the back of Jihoon’s head. He was smacking away Minho’s hand, roughly grabbing him by the collar before he could even look in your direction again. Soonyoung was at your side instantly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and shielding you from the scene.
You heard the scuffle behind you, and you turned your head just enough to see Jihoon bum rushing Minho out of the speakeasy with Seungcheol on his right. They were both yanking on Minho’s flailing arms, ignoring his drunken shouting, while the woman on his arm sprinted after them.
The Velvet Ruby shut its doors for the night and instead of cleaning, Soonyoung insisted that you take a breather. You found his small pantry nestled behind the bar, the entry marked off by just a velvet curtain. This was where he stored all the extra liquor, where bootleggers met Jihoon with their latest shipments. You sat on the steel table by the wall, your legs dangling off the edge, and you took a few deep breaths. Realizing your pantyhose had a few tears in them, you sighed. Sleep was already creeping up on you, but there was still so much left to do. You should offer to mop the floors, clean up behind the stage, and yet …
The curtain swung open, and Jihoon closed it quickly behind him. “Are you doing okay?” He asked while striding up. His tone was detached, but it was his words that spoke to how much he cared.
You didn’t answer, only nodded your head.
“Are you fighting the urge to lie to me again?”
You blinked a few times, his words making a tremor run through you. “I guess I was. Unintentionally, at least.” You looked back down at your legs swinging and gripped the edge of the table. Anywhere but his eyes. Sometimes you wondered if he could see right through you.
A moment of silence passed. Jihoon clicked his tongue. “So did you … know those two people?”
He was trying to pry you open, read through you like the Sunday paper. But you couldn’t let him. The less people who got in your shit, the better. It was for his own good. He was the one who almost didn’t hire you because he was scared of Han in the first place.
“You have to let me in at some point,” he whispered, softer this time. Intimacy laced in his tone and invited you in. He then snickered under his breath. “You got me all balled up over this. I probably just threw out someone who gave me good business –”
“He knows Han,” you confessed. “I don’t know who the woman was.”
Jihoon stuck his hands in the front pockets of his pants. “I see.”
You chewed on your bottom lip. Was the tear in your tights getting bigger or were you finally seeing things? “I didn’t think it was him at first, but … he saw me. What if he goes back and tells Han? What if –”
“He was too tanked to see, and he won’t remember anything now either.”
Slowly, you lifted your head to meet his gaze. His eyes were so dark that you swore you could drown in them. “What does that mean?”
“Don’t worry about it, angel.” He loosened his tie and rolled up the sleeves of his black dress shirt. Your stare drifted to his forearms, admiring the veins that led up to his knuckles, which you realized were now … red, bruised. Both of his hands were. “Do you trust me?”
His words rang through you, causing your gaze to flicker up to his again. After a moment, you nodded. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t.
He stepped closer, the fabric of his expensive pants rubbing against your ruined pantyhose. “I think its best if we establish a plan. If someone asks for you, how should I respond?”
Your hands started to shake, knuckles turning white as you clutched the edge of the table. Looking to your feet, you realized how little you thought this through. Your plan had cracks. You hoped it wouldn’t get to a point where you had to worry about this happening. “I … I don’t know. Say you don’t know me. Say …”
He placed a reassuring hand on top of yours. Your eyes slowly slid to the right, realizing that his hands were bigger than you assumed, prominent veins and scars etched into his skin. His palm was warm, and one of your fingers couldn’t help but twitch.
He squeezed your hand. You squeezed back.
“A cup of Joe or tea?”
Your head swung up. He was that much closer, his hand not leaving yours. Cocking your head to the side, you answered, “Tea. Why?”
A smile flashed on his plump lips. “I figured that was easier than the hard stuff. Morning person or night owl?”
“I used to be a morning person.” Your lips pursed as his gaze burned into yours. “But these days, I think I prefer the night.”
You noticed the way he swallowed, and for a moment, you thought he shivered. But he let go of your hand before you could feel it.
“Are you comfortable here?” His voice was so smooth, like dark chocolate melting in your mouth. After a beat, he added, “With me?”
Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip for a moment, and you notice Jihoon’s eyes move down, ogling you like a painting. Finally, you uttered, “Yes.”
“Good.”
He was in your space now, so close you could inhale his cologne that he probably bought from Lord & Taylor. Or maybe he had it custom. He smelled like firewood and something so inherently masculine, stabling you. A hint of cigar smoke lingered on his collar. He placed his palms on the steel table, thumbs just barely brushing against your hips, as he leaned into you, meeting you at your eye level.
“Tell me,” he continued, “is it worse to be trapped by someone who has feelings for you, or hunted by someone who doesn’t?”
You arched a brow. “We’re back to the hard ones now.”
“You don’t have to answer.”
“I think …” Pausing, you debated your answer, even though you knew it instantly. Maybe you wanted to make him sweat a little. “I would rather be trapped. Better to be trapped and unharmed than hunted.”
Jihoon’s tongue darted out from the corner of his mouth, slowly dragging over his bottom lip. Your answer obviously unfurled him, making his body tense as he stood there and questioned his next move. Your stares connected, but both of you were completely frozen. “You know you can leave at any time, yes?”
You nodded. “I know.”
Time stilled, the small pantry seemingly warmer than usual as Jihoon inched forward. You were white knuckling the table again, but you weren’t moving away. Because maybe … just maybe, you wanted Jihoon to kiss you. And would that be so bad? To have just a modicum of happiness, only for a moment, with his lips agains yours? Or maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe you should lean back and say, “Bank’s closed,” like your friends used to in your single days.
But that was like torture. Moving away from him felt like a curse.
Just as you leaned in, he cleared his throat, stepping back. Both realizing just what you were about to do, your bodies went rigid again. Your cheeks flushed bright red while he rubbed a finger over his top lip. He had never shied away from eye contact with you, but now … he was avoiding you like a disease.
“Let me go get your coat,” he said, already heading for the curtain. “You don’t have to stick around to clean tonight.”
You opened your mouth, wanting to say anything. Even if it was the first thought that came to your head. But Jihoon had already vanished, the curtain swinging in his wake.
December came and went. The winter months were slowing blurring into each other. You were looking forward to the warm comfort of your bed after a long night at the Velvet Ruby. Once the doors had closed, you had to clean up the huge puddle of a spilt beer pitcher by a clumsy patron and his wife. Your knees burned and there were blisters on your feet; you just wanted to be curled up under your blankets before drifting off to sleep. Dragging yourself up the stairs to your apartment, hearing your neighbors arguing at 2 o’clock in the morning, you groaned and stuck your key in the lock.
But your door wouldn’t budge. The lock had been changed.
You looked up, seeing a folded up paper with a coffee stain on the corner. Once you opened the note, you read the words, RENT LATE. PAY OR MOVE OUT, in your landlord’s messy handwriting. A heavy exhale filtered through your lips as you pressed your back against the door, sliding down to the carpet. The same carpet that probably had bugs in it, but you were so tired right now that you didn’t care. Your head fell into your hands as your lack of sleep took over. You didn’t want to doze off out here – absolutely not – but your landlord was surely asleep right now and you wouldn’t be able to pay him until morning.
There was only one option for you.
Using the only change in your pocket, you hauled a taxi and gave the driver instructions to the place you knew best. The taxi pulled up the double doors of the Hotel Ruby, the blinking red sign out front casting a glow on the cab’s interior. You handed the driver your change before stepping out, quickly rushing in to escape the falling snow and giving the doorman, Joshua, a kind smile. He looked confused to see you back, but didn’t question much these days.
You expected to see Wonwoo lounging behind the front desk as usual, but you froze when you realized Jihoon was organizing the mess his regular employee always left there. Jihoon didn’t work here often; he typically stayed in his office or slept in his bedroom connected to it. His mind must be running. What other reason would someone be organizing this late?
Sensing your presence by the door, he finally looked up. A smile curled at his lips, and then fell, realizing that there probably wasn’t a good reason for you to be here after your shift. He said your name, so soft, and then asked, “What’s eating you? I thought you left for the bus an hour ago.”
“I did,” you replied, shaking the snow off your hair. “But I …” You wrung your hands out in front of you. “I must’ve forgot to pay my rent this month, so my landlord changed the locks. Obviously, I can’t reach him until he wakes up, so I was hoping … I could stay in a room tonight.”
Jihoon blinked, studying the red blush on your cheeks. You didn’t know if it was from the cold or your own nerves.
“I could pay, if you need me to. Or you could take it out of my paycheck. That would be easier. Used my last clam for a taxi here.” You chewed on your bottom lip. “I realize that this might be unethical –”
“It is entirely unethical,” Jihoon finished with a straight face. And then, he smiled again, smoothing back a stray hair that had slipped from his slicked back strands. The bags under his eyes became more prominent. “I don’t usually let employees stay. If I let one, then everybody’s got a chance.”
This was mortifying. You felt like cowering in on yourself, sticking your hands in your pockets and pretending you were never here. “I understand.”
“You didn’t let me finish,” he chuckled low, stretching out his arms over the edge of the front desk. His sleeves were rolled up, despite the chill from the door, the veins that ran from his wrists protruding and making you even more flushed. “I can make an exception for you, angel. As long as you keep my secrets.”
You were glowing now, a huge grin on your face. “Your secrets are always safe with me.”
“I know they are,” he snickered, and then called over one of the bellhops bringing a cart to the lobby. “Jun, can you bring her to any of the available rooms for tonight? Any floor. I don’t care. Use the universal key.”
Jun nodded, leading you to the elevator just off from the lobby. You looked over your shoulder, giving Jihoon a soft smile and a wave, before catching up to Jun. Jihoon simply watched you go, but you managed to catch his front teeth bite into his lip as you rounded the corner, and a familiar warmth pooled in your stomach.
Opening the lattice metal door, Jun escorted you inside the intricate elevator and told the lift boy, Seungkwan, to take you both to the second floor. “Nobody typically stays on that floor,” Jun said to you, filling the awkward silence. “Maybe it’s because the rooms are a little more drab. Not sure. But they’ll definitely be one available.”
The elevator stopped on the second floor and Seungkwan pulled the door open, tipping his hat as you left. You couldn’t help but ogle him, because he had the kind of look in his eyes that said, I know things you don’t. You couldn’t imagine the type of things he saw on a daily basis, the type of people he caught switching floors.
Jun twirled the shiny golden key in his hand, which you guessed opened every door in this hotel. The power he felt like he held right now was immense. He whistled under his breath, swinging his finger left and then right, as he decided which room to choose. Finally, he stopped by room 214, at the far end of the hall.
“Good with you?” Jun asked, peering over his shoulder.
You nodded. “As long as the heat works.”
His laugh was so low you almost didn’t hear it. As he fumbled with the key, you looked to the right and squinted, wondering if you were seeing things correctly. There was a room at the end of a corridor. Marked as room 217. It looked almost out of place, like a mirage. Why would the second floor end on an odd number for rooms? It just didn’t seem right.
When he finally stuck the key in the lock, you asked, “Does this floor really end on an odd number?” You pointed to the right.
Jun followed your finger. “You mean 217? Yeah, only floor that does, I believe.”
You were still perplexed. Was he incapable of offering any more information, or was it just you who thought this was strange? “Must be the biggest room on this floor,” you continued as he turned the key, “because its in the corner. Right?”
Jun shrugged, unlocking the door and holding it open for you. A blast of warm air hit your cheeks as he turned to face you. “I wouldn’t know. No one is allowed in there.”
Your brow knitted together, but he was still holding open the door, looking at you as if you were the bird in this situation. Why was no one allowed in that room? Was it never available for people to stay in? You walked forward, into the room, and shed off your coat. When you spun back to view at Jun, you opened your mouth to ask him another question, but he interrupted you.
“Can you butt me, doll?” He held out his hand. “I ran out of cigarettes.”
Your face fell. With a glare, you shut the door in his face.
Your bag accidentally whacked a shoulder on your way inside the hotel, and you looked to your left to apologize. Recognizing the photographer that had taken the pictures of the speakeasy staff nearly a month ago, you waved and blurted a couple thousand sorry’s before heading to the secret entrance for the speakeasy. You had noticed that photographer lingering around the hotel for weeks, but no one seemed to question it so you wondered if maybe you were the odd one out. Eventually, you brought it up to Joshua, since he saw most of the comings and goings of the hotel.
“Oh, him?” Joshua rubbed the back of neck. “Think Jihoon told me that he’s here to take photos of the hotel for advertisements.”
There was a hint of a question in Joshua’s tone, telling you that even he didn’t understand the reason for the photographer. He was just always around. Sometimes when you looked a certain way, he was right there, loitering in the lobby with his camera glued to his hands.
Maybe you were seeing things. Maybe he wasn’t here as often as you thought. You were having trouble falling asleep these days.
When you closed your eyes, sometimes you thought about room 217. It still baffled you; its presence haunting your mind like a ghost. A couple times, you took the elevator up to the second floor just to go see it, the secret of your visits staying between you and Seungkwan. You tried the knob once, and when it wouldn’t budge, you jumped back as if it burned you. This was crazy – you were crazy. Sleep deprived even. You should not care so much about this, but nearly a week after the late rent incident – which you did make up for, thankfully – you found yourself thinking about this room over and over again.
Nobody typically stays on that floor. No one is allowed in there.
Jun was going to be as helpful as a chocolate teapot, and you assumed that most people didn’t know or care much about a locked room anyway. You could ask Jihoon, but … something told you that you might not get the answers you wanted. And maybe what you actually needed to know was more about the elusive hotel owner first. Perhaps that could crack the secrets of 217, and truthfully … you were still a little embarrassed after your almost kiss to be alone with him again.
So you went to Soonyoung.
As the staff was preparing for the Saturday night rush, you dropped off your coat at your locker before stalking up to your favorite bartender. He was drying off glasses, fresh from a wash, and you noticed that he had smudged some black eyeliner on his waterline. Conveniently, Laurie was dancing tonight. It didn’t take an idiot to put two and two together.
“Level with me,” you said to him, lacing your hands on the edge of the bar.
Soonyoung glanced up with a wide grin. “Okay, big shot. What do you need from me?”
You had him right where you wanted him. Soonyoung was always willing to gossip.
“I have some questions about Jihoon,” you proposed, “but I’m just too scared to ask him. I know he’s busy and I don’t want him to have to recall any bad memories. I’m just … curious.”
“Well, now you got me curious. Shoot.”
You started off easy, asking him how the Hotel Ruby came to be. Soonyoung explained that Jihoon had inherited it by his great grandfather on his mom’s side that he almost never spoke to. Nobody ever understood why he had been written down in the will. Jihoon once thought that maybe his grandfather’s handwriting had been so bad that they just assumed the name was his. But he had been grateful, because inheriting this hotel had pulled him out of a series of bad events.
“After he modernized the hotel, he realized no one was coming to stay because of all that stock market bull, which was when he approached me about running the Velvet Ruby together,” he went on. “I was his first friend in the city, so it only made sense for us to become business partners. It’s proven to be his most successful venture, but I supposed anything is better than what he ran away from years ago.”
You raised a brow. “And what was that exactly?”
Soonyoung scratched the side of his head. “I probably shouldn’t be telling you everything …”
“Who am I going to tell? I only talk to you.”
He set down one of the dry glasses. “You make a great point.” He exhaled heavily, wrinkling his small nose, before continuing, “He was born into the Lucky Ace gang. His father was some big leader in it. I’m sure he’s mentioned this in passing, right?”
It all made sense now. Upon your first meeting, Jihoon had known your husband, even mentioned growing up with him. But you didn’t expect this: that he had once been part of the gang that you had somehow married yourself into. Just like his mother.
You schooled your expression and played along, hoping to get more out of Soonyoung. “I believe I heard it once. So he ran away from the Lucky Aces?”
Nodding, Soonyoung replied, “He only told me about it once, so I could be misremembering. He had some huge brawl with his father after his mother’s funeral, and then he stole his father’s car, drove it to the bus station, and got a one way ticket for the city. His father had sent for him, tried to get him to come back, but eventually stopped trying because he wanted his son to suffer on his own. Jihoon had been determined to never set foot near the Lucky Aces again, even put himself through poverty and lived on the street. Until he came into his great grandfather’s wealth. Guess he kept the luck from the Lucky Aces after all.”
“Has he ever talked to you about Cheon Han?”
He set a couple clean glasses on the racks behind him, thinking, and then shook his head. “Not really. Heard the name pop up once or twice. Said he was a good friend from home, but obviously not anymore. In fact, he actually mentioned that name again recently. I overheard Jihoon say it to Seungcheol and gave his description, told him to never let him in the bar under any circumstances.” His eyes slid to yours. “How do you know that name?”
You blinked, trying to keep your composure. “I thought we agreed on absolutely no questions about past lives.”
Soonyoung’s lips slowly curled into a cat-like smile. “Oh, horsefeathers! Look at you. Making me remember my own rules.”
You shrugged nonchalantly at his compliment, even though your brain was screaming at the new information you just received. Jihoon had known Han. Jihoon had been involved with the Lucky Ace gang. He probably still had low-risk friends in the gang, which was why one of Han’s friends was one of his bootlegger’s. This was almost unbelievable. You were more connected to him than you ever imagined.
“Do you …” Using the tip of your finger, you traced senseless circles onto the dark wood of the bar. “Do you know anything about room 217?”
He didn’t answer. Your eyes flickered back up and you realized his body was frozen, his gaze locked on the glass he’d been drying for longer than usual. After what felt like several minutes, his stare met yours. “You know about room 217?”
“Well … not exactly.” You were playing with your hands now, the nerves slowly creeping in. It was important that you stayed impassive during this conversation, but your true colors were starting to show. “I just … I just saw it when I had to stay the night here last week. That’s all.”
“You’ve never been inside it?”
You shook your head.
“Oh.” His shoulders immediately relaxed, and he turned his back to you while putting away more glasses. He made sure he wasn’t looking at you as he said, “I don’t know anything about it.”
Your brow raised. “Really?”
“I know what everyone else does: Jihoon doesn’t let anyone stay in that room.” He spun back again, his shrug the picture of disinterest. “Maybe it’s haunted.”
After that unproductive conversation with Soonyoung, you decided that it was probably best to give up on finding out the secrets of the mysterious room. Clearly, no one had an inkling of knowledge about it, and the ones that did weren’t going to budge so easily. You knew it wasn’t the truth, but maybe it was just haunted. Every old hotel had one.
If you looked into it more, you would find out things that might hurt you. Things that might ruin the picture perfect image you had of everyone in this hotel. The place that had become your safe space.
So you gave up. For now.
February was treating you nicely. Jihoon had added an extra nickel to your weekly paycheck and put more tables in the speakeasy to accommodate the growing crowd on weekends. This Saturday was no less busy than the last, especially with Laurie’s growing fame. She was even looking into managers now to try to further her career, past the small stage of the Velvet Ruby, but she never forgot about Soonyoung. He still met her behind the curtain during her intermissions, doing who knows what. You were grateful to not know.
The joint was filled with male patrons tonight and the usual flapper group in the corner. Dollar bills were thrown on stage, and there was a particular table near the back that was especially rowdy, engaging in a loud bull session with each other over the music. This was your worst nightmare, so when you asked Mingyu to cover for you while you went on a smoke break, he agreed without question. If anyone could handle a table like that, it was him.
Some would say it was idiotic to make your way outside for a cigarette, especially in this weather, but it was a habit that you weren’t keen on breaking just yet. Slipping past Seungcheol and heading for the main lobby of the hotel, you pulled your cigarettes out of your apron, stuck one between your lips, and adjusted the tie in the back. Shouting emerged the closer you got to the lobby, making your brow crease. It was only when you reached the threshold that it all became clear.
The unlit cigarette dropped from your mouth.
Cheon Han was being held back by two of his friends – not Minho; you didn’t recognize these ones – while trying to swipe a knife in Jihoon’s face. Must’ve been a shiv he borrowed from one of his associates. Jihoon’s arm was out to shield his face, while Wonwoo was at his side to bite the bullet, if it came to that. Jun was on Jihoon’s right, looking utterly clueless and downright terrified, with his bellhop hat crooked and his fists in the air. As if that was going to do anything.
“Han.” The name slipped out of your mouth before you could stop it.
Your husband’s face whipped to yours immediately. His eyes were bloodshot and his body froze. Even his associates recognized you, but they looked like strangers in your wide-eyed gaze. A few long strands of hair escape from his signature slicked hairstyle, falling onto his distressed forehead. His nose scrunched as he took in your appearance. A uniform. A server. You worked here.
The knife dropped from his hand and clattered onto the floor.
But he was furious. His eyes blazed with a fiery intensity as he shouted, “Did you think I wouldn’t know where to look?! I have friends everywhere. You really thought you could run away from our marriage and I wouldn’t find you? You slay me. Really, that’s funny, doll.”
Your hands balled into fists. Han was seething with rage, while Jihoon was staring at you, not sure what to do. “Our marriage was built on a lie!” You exclaimed. “You know it was. You never told me – not once – until after we were married about what you were. What I would be putting at risk by being married to you – my life, my family. I didn’t want to be some moll, Han!”
“Oh, this is such bull.” He let out a laugh, but there was no humor behind it. His associates slowly let go of him and pocketed the shiv. Han looked back at you, and before you could blink, he was advancing. “Come on now, doll. Let’s stop playing around and go home.”
He was within a foot of you when Jihoon blocked his path, using himself as a human shield. Wonwoo and Jun watched with hesitation, ready to move at a moment’s notice. Jihoon stood tall, even if he was shorter than you than usual when you were in these heels. He was broad and his muscles bulged from the rolled up sleeves of his black dress shirt. His brows were narrowed as he said, voice low and menacing, “She’s not going anywhere with you. Beat it, Cheon.”
Han’s teeth gritted, his whole body shaking from the rage flooding through him. The same rage he showed his soldiers when they fell out of line. And he was leveling it towards Jihoon. “She’s mine,” he growled.
Your husband had never been violent with you. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t possessive.
“Not anymore,” Jihoon replied. His tone was surprisingly calm despite the situation.
“Han,” you called, letting your voice take on the velvety tone you used to have with him. His eyes went yours instantly, softening slightly with recollection, before he remembered how pissed off he was that you ran away and some pill was standing between him and his girl. You licked your lips and said, “You should leave. I’m not going home with you. This marriage is over.”
Jihoon snickered. “You heard her.”
His brow knitted together in frustration. “We’ll see about that.” Nodding to his associates, he turned on the heel of his boot and muttered. “Let’s go. We’ll be back around.” Han’s glare met yours. “I’m not leaving without my wife.”
Once the lobby was clear, Jun ran to tell Joshua to not let those men anywhere near the doors of the hotel again. They locked it from the inside, making sure to only allow in current guests and speakeasy customers leaving the building. Wonwoo headed to the front desk, phoning for the police immediately. (Specifically, the only officer they trusted who didn’t rat Jihoon out over the speakeasy.) Lucky for him, he hired good people who took care of the hard stuff without him asking.
He turned to you behind him, seeing your body start to crumble with the awareness of what just transpired. Hooking his arms through yours, he cooed, “Angel, no. It’s going to be okay. I promise. Let’s get you somewhere quiet.”
As the sobs began to rack through you, Jihoon used his strength to help guide you out of the lobby. He motioned for Wonwoo to take care of talking to the investigator, hoping that with a thorough description, they would be able to do something. Anything. But he stopped trusting those bulls a long time ago.
He led you to the laundry room just off from the lobby. He gestured for the two maids occupying the space to leave, and they followed his orders with a bow of their heads. Letting go of you, he allowed your back to slide against the wall until you were sitting on the cold stone floor. He sighed before taking the spot next to you.
You rubbed at your eyes and sniffled. “I knew this would happen.”
“It couldn’t have been that drunk fool that told him.”
You shook your head. “It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that he’s here. He found me. Right when I started to feel safe.”
“Angel,” his voice was so gentle when your nickname rolled off his tongue. His fingers were on your chin, turning your tear-streaked face to his. “You are safe here. I’m not going to let him take you.”
“I know I said before that I would make sure I suffer the consequences if you got found with me,” you said, tears welling up in your eyes again, “but now I don’t want to think about it. I don’t want to leave. And what if he kills you?”
Jihoon smirked. “One of his torpedos will do it for him, remember?”
A chuckle emerged under your breath, recalling the words you said to him months ago. You shook your head looked down to his lap, where his free hand was twitching, as if he was fighting himself not to touch you.
Lifting your eyes to his again, you felt his thumb swipe under them, catching the tears. “Jihoon, why do you care so much about protecting me?”
“Because,” he whispered, and then stopped himself. He bit his lip, unable to come up with anything that didn’t sound like a lie. “Because I …” His hand fell from your face.
So you grabbed it, placing your palm on top of his. His hand was warm and soft, despite the callouses that were constantly on his knuckles. “You don’t need to explain yourself,” you murmured. “I overstepped.”
“No, no, you didn’t. I …” He exhaled, annoyed more with himself than anything. Running a nervous hand through his dark hair, his gaze lifted to yours. You were sure that he had galaxies in his eyes. “Your marriage with Han … it was always a lie?”
You paused, chewing on your lip. Your hand on his was like an anchor, wondering how much you wanted to reveal. But if you had gotten this far, trusted him this much … maybe it was worth finally divulging.
“It started in a place like this.” Your fingers slipped from his, gesturing to the electric washers and washboards littered throughout the small room. “I worked at my family’s laundromat since I was 8. My whole life had always been school, then work. And when school was finally over, my life had become just … work. Washing and drying. Tending to the wealthy’s clothes and praying I didn’t ruin them. My fingers permanently pruned. But I digress.” You huffed longingly. “Han had come in one day to get a mark out of his suit. He was the berries, looking like he worked on Wall Street or something. I remember making sure I really got that stain out, and he was so kind when I gave it back. He proceeded to come back everyday, sometimes asking to wash a garment regardless if it was dirty or not.”
You shrugged and added, “I didn’t even realize he was carrying a torch for me until he asked me to dinner. I said, ‘Yes,’ because, well … who wouldn’t? He was the most handsome man I’d ever seen.” Your eyes casted down, fingers picking at the widening hole in your pantyhose. “We went on a solid five dates before he asked for my hand. It was all very fast, and I told him I had to think about it because I didn’t know him. I wanted to say no, see if he wanted to continue to date, but … my family. They encouraged me to agree. We needed the money and Han would provide whatever we wanted. It just made sense.
“So, I said, ‘Yes,’ again to Han. After the wedding was when I found out.” You thought back to those photos at the courthouse, how you’d been standing so close to all his right-hand men. “All those boys that I thought were his friends … days later, I learned they were his associates and soldiers. He didn’t tell me anything until after the ring was on my finger, said he was scared I would judge him or say, ‘No.’ Said he loved me and didn’t want us to change. And I believed it wouldn’t … for a while. But when your life starts to get threaten, you begin to realize just what you got yourself into.”
You turned your head, your haunted stare meeting his, and you realized just how close Jihoon was. “Sometimes love isn’t enough.”
“And do you still?” He asked, his voice just loud enough for you to hear. “Love him, I mean.”
You curled your legs to your chest, smoothing your skirt over your knees and playing with the hem. Eventually, you replied, “I love the memories.”
A beat passed, and then his palm slid on top of yours on your knee. His hands were partly cold, but you didn’t have it in you to move away. Not now. Not ever. You watched as his fingers squeezed yours, thumb running over your knuckles.
“I’m going to secure the perimeter of the hotel,” he promised, “and you can stay here until you feel safe.”
“I don’t want you to feel like you have to give me charity –”
“Angel,” he chastised with a shake of his head, “it’s not charity. I’ve never been that altruistic.”
He gave your hand one last squeeze, leaning in just enough for you to think something might happen, but he was getting to his feet. His shiny Oxfords were such a contrast against the speckled stone floor. When you lifted your head, you found him lingering by the doorway. With a lazy smile, he muttered, “Sometimes love is enough.”
You blinked at him, wondering if you heard him correctly. Maybe you were overthinking, because Lee Jihoon couldn’t have meant what you thought he just did. He barely knew you. He barely touched you.
But he had always stayed. He had always listened. And that could be enough.
He stepped forward to leave the laundry room, but then looked back, pointing a finger at you. “When you’re ready, let me know when you need me to contact my lawyer. I can help pay for your divorce.”
Ignoring Han’s phone calls to the front desk got easier with time. Especially when Jihoon sent a group of his old friends to drive him out of the city for the time being. Wonwoo had told you about the first few calls when you started staying at the hotel, and only stopped after Jihoon requested he only tell upper management about Han’s persistence. Your husband couldn’t even step near the property without the new body guards knowing. You wouldn’t have even found out about the party Jihoon sent after Han if you hadn’t overheard his private conversation with Wonwoo, when he described the money it took to haggle a group of hard boilers to chase down a well-known gangster.
His methods should scare you. His connections to the Lucky Aces should have you fleeing. But he was the only person, in such a long time, to make you feel secure. He was going to protect you, even if it cost him his life.
You didn’t understand him. And maybe it was better that you didn’t.
Jihoon helped obtain a private divorce lawyer through means you didn’t bother questioning. The kind of lawyer you would never be able to afford if he wasn’t paying, far from society’s prying eyes. It wasn’t like you were much of a big deal, but a divorce between any gangster and his wife was front page news. Society would rip you to shreds, demanding you provide proof of desertion or adultery. You wanted to avoid that at any cost. His lawyer was able to start the process of separation almost immediately, involving you at every step.
After cutting your lease at the apartment, which Jihoon happily stepped in to help, you moved all of your belongings into a room at the hotel. You wondered if you’d be put in another room on the second floor, but much to your surprise, Jihoon put you in a free room on the first floor. Close to his quarters and the manager’s office.
“I want to be close in case you need me,” he said, opening the door to room 101. “Please, don’t hesitate to call for me.”
You had looked back at him in that moment, setting your only two bags near the bed. The words that came out of his mouth were nonchalant, but you could see in his eyes what he really wanted to say: Please, need me.
Oh, how you wished he understood how much you did.
Using the phone in your room, you finally called your family again to tell them the news. Your mother had sounded relieved that you were even alive: “I had been holding out hope. I was so scared. I thought you might’ve run off with some drugstore cowboy!” But when you revealed that you were separating from Han, you had to pull the phone away from your ear just to drown out the sound of your mother’s screaming: “Excuse me?! How much have you had to drink right now? I bet everyone at this speakeasy you work at is just handing you hooch all the time. That’s the only reason why you would be spouting such nonsense. Han is a good man. Why would you even think about doing this?!”
You knew she didn’t mean it. Han had fooled everyone; you almost didn’t believe it when he told you his real profession after the wedding. And truthfully, your parents relied on him when times got tough. Han was constantly sending them money if they needed it; that was one of the many reasons they convinced you to marry him in the first place. Your family wasn’t well off. They needed him.
So you had to make her understand.
After finally coming clean to her about your husband’s crime-related activities, she had finally calmed down, started speaking in a tone where you didn’thave to have the phone so far from your actual ear. She became more concerned about the social implications of separating from such a well-known man, but you convinced your mother that you knew what you were doing. Even if you didn’t believe it yourself. Even if this process was scaring you half to death. And she trusted you.
For the first time ever, your mother trusted you.
The dust was finally starting to settle. You had been living at the Hotel Ruby for two weeks and honestly, your body had never been more relaxed. The phone calls to the front desk had stopped. Your lawyer was handling everything behind the scenes. And you were safe.
You found yourself spending more time with Jihoon than you expected. Long nights after the juice joint closed, the staff cleaning around you, and the two of you found yourself sitting at one of the tables and sharing stories from years past. You both preferred to share a cigarette because it felt less detrimental than smoking two individually. It felt intimate, almost like a kiss. A not-kiss, that maybe you desperately wanted to have. Maybe he did too.
Going in for your shifts became so much easier now that you didn’t have to rely on the bus or a taxi to get you there. You simply had to get dressed and head down the hallway that led to speakeasy. Seungcheol was especially chipper today, already having the door open for you as your new kitten heels clicked down the corridor. Jihoon had bought them for you in his favorite color: a deep burgundy.
Slipping into the backroom, you said hello to Minghao before opening your locker to grab your apron you left there overnight. Pulling out the discarded heap of fabric, you paused when you heard a thunk, noticing a folded up piece of paper fall onto the bottom of your locker. Your brow furrowed and you looked around, but you were still alone. When you picked up the note, you realized it had weight to it.
You bit into your lip, hesitating, and then opened up the paper. The first thing you saw was a small, gold key with the numbers 217 slightly embossed on the top. Your eyes widened. This looked like a copied key, and it wasn’t the first time you saw one of these. Han used to have a special person he went to for copied keys. The molding of the numbers was a crucial giveaway. When your gaze finally shifted to the note, you froze, reading over the words as you felt your throat close up.
Only visit when the clock strikes 1 PM, it read. Good luck.
You threw the note back into your locker as if it burned you. Someone was trying to set you up. You couldn’t have this in your possession. Maybe you could throw it in the fireplace tonight, watch the metal of the key slowly melt into charred wood and ash.
The possibilities ran through your head all night, but it was all cheap talk. Because that key stayed in your locker for another week before your curiosity got the better of you.
It was 1 PM on a Thursday and Seungkwan was giving you a look as he pressed the button for the second floor that made your whole body shake. Like he knew what you were doing. Like he’d been waiting. But neither of you said a word, just simply rode the elevator in silence. As you left the metal cage, he tipped his hat towards you and left you alone in the barren hallway of floor 2. You swallowed hard, and then turned on your heel to see room 217 at the end.
You didn’t know how much time had passed. You wondered if you blacked out. Because you were suddenly standing in front of the door in question, the copied key trembling in your hand. Why were you so nervous? You had no idea what was behind this door. Maybe it was excitement, the knowledge of finally seeing what had plagued you for weeks. To be in the know. Once you saw this, you could be on your way and never have to think about why everyone acted so strange about this abandoned room in the first place.
Twisting the key in the lock, you let the door slowly open and reveal the room. It looked like every other room, almost identical to the one you stayed in, so you stepped further inside. Your tread was silent, and you walked forward like you were waiting for someone to scare you. But the room was … the same. Nothing too out of the ordinary, besides the paintings hung up on the walls. These ones looked old and expensive. Worth a lot more than what this room costed. Your hands finally unclenched, feeling like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. All that curiosity amounted to … nothing. But it did make you wonder why everyone spoke so oddly about this room in the first place.
And then you turned.
On the wall, directly facing the bed, was a gallery of photos. Each taken from different angles, days, situations. Some featured a smile, some had a cigarette dangling from lips. Eyes met the lens in a few. Some even included other employees of the hotel and speakeasy staff. But there was one similarity between all of them, and that was that they were all taken without any knowledge.
Oh, and they were all of you.
You stumbled, not sure what to make of this. Every photo was of you. This was a collage of your face. You took another step back, landing on the edge of the bed. Your hand came up to your mouth as you ogled the assortment of photos, until you almost couldn’t look anymore and peered at the room around you.
There were stains of self pleasure on the sheets.
Cigarette ashes piled in the litter of trays on every surface.
You gasped, standing up immediately as you took in the horror. But amongst the perverse, the deviancy, there was a sort of … softness here. There were fresh red roses on the bedside table. You recognized the paintings from the renaissance era, suggesting a fondness. And when you approached the desk by the window … there was a note, ink stains embedded into the thin paper. A box with a pearl necklace sat on the edge, and the note was addressed to you from Jihoon, explaining why he wanted to gift the necklace to you. He wrote as if he were devoted, as if he were in love, and simply didn’t understand how to express it.
This was Jihoon’s room. This was all his doing. That’s why no one was allowed in here, because they’d see … who he really was.
Turning to face the photo wall again, you suddenly realized that you didn’t know how to feel. Your emotions were torn in two different directions. For so long, you’d been devalued, treated as an accessory. Nothing but the doting wife to a notorious gangster, just shy on the totem pole to be important enough to receive threats to your life. Han loved you, but not like this. You walked forward, scanning the multitude of pictures, noticing the little moments he captured of you, and your heart … clenched. Like someone with an iron grip was holding it and wouldn’t let go.
He noticed you. You didn’t ask for it, but he chose you anyway.
You should be terrified. You should be running away screaming. This shouldn’t make your eyes soften or make you wonder if it was possible to stay here forever, with him. But you couldn’t help yourself when you reached out, fingers brushing the corner of a zoomed-in photo of yourself, your eyes fixed on the lens without even knowing it. You were smiling, the corners of your lips almost reaching your ears, as snow fell around your head like a crown. Your mouth trembled and your heart sped up because … you mattered to him.
But you shouldn’t be here. You knew you shouldn’t. Everything about this was wrong – from the collage wall to intruding on his private domain. This wasn’t meant for you to know, for anyone to know. And when you were sure you heard the elevator ding outside the room, you bolted, unaware that you knocked down a small frame of Jihoon and his mother on a small table near the door.
There was a maid’s closet right near room 214. You sprinted out of 217, whipping your entire body into the closet as you heard the metal doors of the elevator open at the end of the hall. Pushing yourself deeper into the small room, crowding against the mops and brooms and various cleaning products, you stilled your breath. Footsteps echoed, highlighted underneath the crack in the door, and you gripped a hand over your mouth. They stopped at the other corner of the corridor – near 217 – and it was only when you knew the door had opened and closed did you finally allow yourself to breathe.
The Velvet Ruby had never been more lively on a Thursday night, and you found yourself struggling to keep up. Everywhere you looked, it seemed that each of your customers wanted another drink, as if they were guzzling them. Sweat beaded your hairline each time you bumped into one of your coworkers, your mind somewhere else, thinking of the photos and pearl necklaces and ashtrays –
You collided into Mingyu’s shoulder, breaking you out of your thoughts. He apologized and brushed past you, allowing you a moment to still yourself amongst the chaos. You breathed out, closed your eyes, and gripped the edge of your tray. Everything was going to be okay. The day would end and you could go to bed soon enough. You would survive, because you had to. Because you were still safe. Maybe you’d even forget about the photos, the note.
Or maybe you wouldn’t. Maybe you’d let it consume you whole.
You finally opened your eyes, head turned slightly when you felt a gaze burning into your cheek. Even in the darkness, even amongst the crowd of drunken patrons and servers who jostled around you … you could find him. And he was watching you from the corner of the room, bringing a cigar to his lips, exhaling the smoke that filtered around his dark eyes. He didn’t approach. He didn’t nod. Jihoon simply watched, his stare never leaving yours.
Everything stopped. Your heart paused.
And it was then, that you wondered if he knew what you’d done.
Of course, he knew.
Infatuation was like a disease, spreading to every sap like it was going out of style. Jihoon had known infatuation, but he had never known it like this. He needed to restrain himself. He was a well-heeled man. Being a well-heeled man meant that he was a put-together, sharply dressed, impressive. The kind of man who knew how to act in public and paid attention to his employees, who smoked cigars but helped his patrons at a moment’s notice. The kind of man who secretly enjoyed cheap alcohol and taking a date home to bend her over before having his way with her. But it didn’t matter. It never got out, because he was a well-heeled man. Handsome and level-headed. He never got angry, never punched his employee’s husband so hard that his knuckles scarred, never thought about each way he could claim a married woman in just about every corner of his hotel. He was, as always, a well-heeled man.
But that was all a lie, wasn’t it? A character he fought with in his head. Because well-heeled men didn’t really exist. A well-heeled man didn’t take in women like you, someone married to a gangster he ran away from. A well-heeled man didn’t have the thoughts he had about you. A well-heeled man didn’t pour every ounce of his dough into getting his lawyer to take your divorce case. A well-heeled man didn’t have a secret room where he masturbated to a collage of your pictures on the wall.
The room didn’t start this way. It was just supposed to be a place for him to unwind. That’s why he hung up his favorite paintings – Sandro Botticelli’s Primavera, Jan van Eyck’s Arnolfini Portrait – and always had fresh flowers by the bed. It was a room away from the hustle and bustle of the hotel, the speakeasy. Everyone. Where he could decompress and smoke his cigars in peace.
And then, he hung up one picture of you. It was the staff photo, but he folded it up until it was just you, overexposed and smiling at the camera. You looked so beautiful, tall, nothing like the woman who walked through the doors of the hotel. You blossomed under him like a flower in spring-time.
He had more pictures taken of you. He couldn’t help himself, and he simply loved photography. You were his muse when he wasn’t even behind the camera. He hung up another photo. And another. And another. Until the whole wall was covered in you. And he was still calm – calmer than ever before. He had to be. Jihoon let himself fall back onto the bed, looking up at the wall of you, his gaze reveling in your smile, your eyes, you.
You were an imprint on his mind. An itch he couldn’t scratch. His angel. And it was then that he realized he simply couldn’t be calm anymore. Especially not when his hand started to drift towards his waistband, cigarette hanging from his lips as he unbuckled his belt. He was reaching into his pants and finding himself hard and – god, you created a monster out of him.
He wasn’t a fool. Of course, he felt perverse, shameful. But you had made him weak and he simply couldn’t stop. The pictures were beautiful – you were beautiful. And if he couldn’t have you the way he wanted, then maybe he could gaze upon you and find a little sense of peace while he fisted his cock until he came all over his thigh.
There was something off when he came back to 217 on Thursday. The air seemed different, a new perfume that hadn’t been there before, but he chocked it up to his imagination. His eyes were sharp though, and within seconds, he saw it: the small, wooden frame laying facedown near the door. His stare narrowed, lifting the frame back up so he could see the photo of him and his mother, taken just a few months shy of her death. He set it in place before walking around the room.
There was a shift in the bedsheets. One of the photos amongst the cluster – the close-up of your face, eyes fixed at the camera without you knowing it – had been tilted slightly. And that scent … it only got stronger the more he was in the room.
The only people that knew about this room were him and Soonyoung, who never came in here anyway because he didn’t approve of it. Soonyoung had always been the most open person, willing to understand just about everything, and it wasn’t that he was cruel to Jihoon about it. Cruelty wasn’t in his nature. When Jihoon finally finished the photo wall and decided to let someone in on the secret, he allowed Soonyoung to walk into 217 on his own.
His friend’s face was nothing short of shock.
He had stood there, staring at all the photos for a long time, before noticing the cigars on the desk, the indent of a body on the sheets. Soonyoung knew what this room was about, what kind of depravity his friend was up to as means of relaxing. It smelled of smoke and fresh roses, ink and arousal. He was momentarily disgusted, but didn’t have it in him to be shocked. This was Jihoon after all. His closest confidant, and if he was letting him in to this secret, it must be for a reason.
“Pal,” he finally said, “you can’t keep doing this.”
Jihoon waved his hand. “I’m not adding any more photos.”
“Not that. I mean this –” Soonyoung gestured around the room. “– in general. I know that you have no … ill intent behind this. I know you’re carrying a torch for her –”
“I think it’s more than just that now.”
“– But,” he continued, and then sighed, his eyes growing heavy. “What if someone finds this room?”
Jihoon shook his head. “No one will. The door doesn’t even open with the universal key.” He pulled out two distinct looking gold keys with his pocket. “217 was used for storage by my great grandfather back in the day. The lock will only open for these two keys.” He placed one of them in Soonyoung’s palm and then closed his fingers. “I want you to have the second one. Keep it safe.”
Soonyoung’s eyes flickered to his friend’s. “Absolutely not. I don’t want to be involved in this.”
“You don’t have to be involved in anything,” he chided. “Just don’t let this key out of your sight. Be my friend. Please.”
Soonyoung had always been weak to begging, and after a long moment, he nodded. That had been months ago, and he hadn’t been in 217 since. He didn’t tell a soul and tried his best to forget about his friend’s personal time. He kept the key safe, or so Jihoon thought.
Because someone was in here. Any normal person who found this room would come to him immediately about it, call him out on his behavior or threaten to call the police, take him down for a good price. But no one did. Even hours later, as Jihoon sat in 217 and contemplated who could’ve been in here, he realized that the answer had been in front of him.
The only person that would stay quiet, the only person that would refuse to look at him after stepping inside … was you.
He heard the lock click open, and he tilted his head to see Soonyoung opening the door. He looked relieved to find him here, as if he’d been looking for him for hours. Or maybe he was simply thankful he hadn’t walked in on his friend touching himself. Nevertheless, Soonyoung was panting, out of breath, and he didn’t even give Jihoon a second to ask what was wrong before he was exclaiming, “I think someone copied my key.”
You were going back to the room.
For an entire week, you wondered if it had all been a dream. The memory kept you up most nights, making your eyes tip up to the ceiling, where room 217 was locked just above your head. What if this was your cue to run again? What if these photos got back to Han? What if Jihoon had been secretly working on turning you into him this whole time? Rational was out the window now. Not when you were in the midst of divorce and he could use any piece of leverage against you.
The key shook in your hands as you stomped towards the room. You dared to not meet Seungkwan’s eyes this time, half-knowing that it must’ve been him who gave you this key in the first place. But why? Just to cause a stir, or was he curious himself? Maybe it wasn’t meant for you to know, and truthfully, you didn’t need the answer either. You just wanted to make sure that it was real, and then make a decision from there. What transpired this afternoon would change the trajectory of your future, if you fled this hotel or not.
You unlocked the door, key trembling in your grasp, and shut the door behind you before looking up. A gasp left your lips.
“So I didn’t scare you away?”
Back pressed against the door, you found Jihoon lounging in the desk chair, back slumped and legs spread comfortably. Instead of his typical cigar, he inhaled a drag from a cigarette before flicking some ash into a tray beside him. You swallowed hard and flattened your palms against the door, as if you could push it back. But you didn’t want to get away from him. Quite the opposite. Because you had questions and Jihoon, without a doubt, had answers.
“I don’t scare very easily anymore.” Your chin lifted to feign confidence.
Both sets of eyes shifted to the photo wall, still hanging in place, and when yours flickered back, his was already pointed on you. Transfixed. As if his gaze was always meant to find yours in a room.
“You had all these photos taken of me,” you muttered, leveling a glare at him, “and you’re using them for – what? Self pleasure, or are you actually working with Han?”
Jihoon’s brow furrowed. His stare was blank. “You think I would put my own life on the line like that by reaching out to Han about you, angel?”
You shrugged. “He must have a bounty on me though. It’s probably steep. Any hotel owner with a secret room is probably using it for …” You glanced at the sheets, which were now clean. “Nefarious activities.”
“That’s not what this room is for,” he answered. His voice was so calm, like you weren’t accusing him of anything. “And I am not, nor will I ever, be in contact with Han. I wouldn’t do that to you.”
Your stare flicked to his and you bit your lip. His eyes moved down to see your teeth sink into your plump bottom lip, but you couldn’t let him distract you as you assessed his tone. And somehow … you knew he was telling the truth.
He stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray. “This room didn’t start out the way that you think. It was just a place to unwind, and then … I realized you face made me feel better than any rare cigar.”
You paused, lips pursed. “You knew I’d come back.”
“I was hoping you wouldn’t feel like you had to, but yes.”
“How long?” You didn’t even bother to gesture to the wall. He knew what you meant.
Jihoon’s gaze didn’t leave yours as he replied, “You’re not a fool. You know how long.”
Since the photographer came to the hotel. Even if you refused to admit it to yourself, to face the reality before you – you did know it. You watched him lean forward in the chair, elbows resting on his knees, as he took in your schooled expression.
Finally, you moved from the door and approached the wall. You reached out, fingers brushing over one photo in particular, before plucking it off. The corner ripped, and Jihoon fought the urge to get to his feet. It was a photo of you and Jeonghan, sharing a cigarette outside the Velvet Ruby. You could practically hear the laughter embedded in the ink. This had been a good day; you remembered it fondly.
When Jihoon eventually stood from his chair, he was careful not to crowd you, keeping his hands to himself. But you were slowly walking to the bed anyway, staring at the photo like it contained a hidden meaning you couldn’t quite figure out. You turned it over in your palm, then another time, before you let your eyes glaze over the surface again. “All these photos …” You murmured. “You don’t have a version of me that’s afraid.”
Jihoon’s spine was pressed against the old drawer in front of the photo wall. His hands gripped the edge, knuckles turning white from restraint. Well-heeled men control themselves. His voice was but a mere whisper when he said, “I wanted to remember you like this: safe, happy, beautiful. That’s the version of you this place created.”
You viewed up, crossing your legs over the edge of the bed. The confession struck you like lightning, making every hair on your body stand up and your skin prickle. You licked your lips and muttered, “If I told you this crossed the line …”
His answer was immediate: “I’ll remove every single trace of you from this room and I’ll …” He grimaced, but only for a second. “I’ll let you leave the hotel. I’ll wipe your name clean from the Velvet Ruby. I’ll let you move on.”
“And if I didn’t tell you that?” You bit your lip again.
His fingers flexed. Well-heeled men didn’t stare at married women like that. Well-heeled men didn’t imagine tugging on that lip before devouring her mouth. He did a sharp intake of breath.
“I would wait for you.” He took a beat. “Until you were ready. Until after your divorce finalized."
“The divorce will be finalized. The when part is simply up in the air. No need to be a worrywart.”
He tried to even his breathing, but the tension in the room was so thick that it could be cut with the dullest knife in his kitchen. His dark eyes never left yours, serious and unyielding. “Tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it.”
“I don’t want anything from you, Jihoon,” you confessed. You knew it was wrong – it was diabolical – to want him in a moment like this. To acknowledge the desire you kept inside for so long, to hear him admit to it too. But you needed to, or else you might just explode. “I guess I just want … you. No one has made me feel safe like you do. No one has given me agency like you have. I’m not the person I used to be – I’m not afraid anymore – because of you.”
“Angel, you have to know …” His voice trailed off as he ultimately let himself step forward, slowly, in your direction. “You are the most enticing creature I’ve ever laid my eyes upon. Before you, before this – everything felt cold and lonely. But your presence has invigorated something in me, something protective and primal that I know is wrong. I simply couldn’t help myself. Everything about you invites me in. You’re the predator and I’m just your weak prey.”
Your breathing stilled as you watched Jihoon sink to his knees in front of you. His hands, still scarred from ramming his fist into Han, carefully went to your hips, hardly even touching you. “So if you really want me,” he continued, “I need you to say it again, and I’ll do whatever your heart desires. As long as it means I get to touch you.”
You swallowed down the bile rising in your throat, hesitated, and then let your nimble fingers trace his mouth. “I want you, Jihoon,” you whispered.
He surged upward, standing between your long legs, and crushed his lips onto yours. You didn’t know what to do. You hadn’t been kissed like this in years. And he knew that, so with his mouth still on yours, he took your palms off the bed and placed them on his chest. Instantly, your fingers curled, fisting into the silk shirt, bringing him that much closer. He laughed into the kiss, surprised by your eagerness, as he carefully slipped his tongue into your mouth. You couldn’t remember the last time Han kissed you, especially like this. With passion, with the kind of intensity that almost scared you, but you needed him more than you let on. You pulled Jihoon closer as he licked into your mouth, and you tasted nicotine on his tongue.
He leaned back, just slightly, noticing how swollen your lips looked from just one kiss. His mouth curved a little on one side, his fingers sliding down from your jaw down your collarbone, skimming your sides, before they rested at the buttons of your blouse. Your mouth sealed and you looked at him with wide eyes. “When was the last time anyone touched you?” He asked under his breath.
“I …” You shook your head. “I can’t remember.”
He raised one hand again, the tip of his finger trailing around your rounded lips. “Don’t sweat it, angel,” he whispered, leaning in to inhale your perfume yet again. He damn near groaned at the scent. “I wanted to go slow anyway. We have all the time in the world.”
“You have to go downstairs to watch the front desk though.”
Jihoon leveled a look at you. “Trust me. We have all the time in the world.”
You nodded, and your body froze when he tugged on your bottom lip finally, sucking it in between his teeth. He couldn’t stop the sound that reverberated from his mouth anymore, and when he released your lip, he saw the ident he left behind. The mark only he could give you.
No second guessing. No regretting. You slowly leaned back onto the plush mattress, your hair fanning out and making you look like an actual angel. Jihoon almost forgot to breathe at the sight of you. In this moment, you were all his and more. Everything he ever wanted was at his fingertips as he slowly unbuttoned your blouse and pulled your skirt down. He made sure to fold both pieces in a pile on the floor, topped off with the heels he bought you, before eyeing you yet again.
You were wearing a cotton chemise, trimmed with white lace, and stockings underneath. Under his gaze, you were already squirming, unsure how to handle someone looking at you with so much heat. Han had never, not even when you had first met, during the initial moments of attraction. Not even when he took your innocence. Never. Now Jihoon was, and even though it made goosebumps rise on your skin, you liked it. You needed it.
“You’re a real-life angel,” he whispered, hardly loud enough for you to hear, and helped lift the chemise over your head.
Jihoon almost fell back. He wasn’t that old, and yet, the sight of you half-dressed had him gripping the wall for support. Your breasts were the perfect size, rosy nipples that perked up from his attention. A garter belt was secure to your waist, holding up your sheer black stockings, and a pair of drawers underneath it all. The wet spot soaking into the fabric was so apparent, but even if he was blind, he could smell it. Smell you. He had never smelled this kind of arousal before, the kind that begged to be touched.
He wanted to taste you right now, like this. Push your drawers to the side and suck your clit into his mouth like a proper gentleman. Tights still on as one leg curled on his shoulder. But truthfully, he was too selfish. If he didn’t see you naked in the next thirty seconds, he might just come undone.
Taking off the garter belt, he carefully unhooked your stockings, slowly rolling them down your thighs, maintaining eye contact with you. He noticed your breathing pick up a little when his fingers hooked around the waistband of your drawers, and he paused, kneeling slightly and letting his breath ghost between your legs. His gaze didn’t leave yours.
“Jihoon –” You breathed.
“You’re wet,” he smirked, and your nipples hardened more. He hadn’t even touched them yet. “You’re so wet and I’ve hardly done anything.”
Your eyes closed for a moment, cheeks heating from embarrassment. “I just …” Words died on your tongue.
“You don’t have to explain yourself,” he whispered, peeling your drawers down and setting them aside in the pile he laid out for you. Placing your hand in his, he brought your palm to his groin, letting you feel the hardness beneath. Your eyes widened, connecting with his, and he added, “I need you too.”
You swallowed, fingers pressing down to squeeze his bulge, but he took your hand off before you could feel anymore. Lord knew that if you touch him any longer … his release would be completely wasted.
He set your hand back down on the bed and lowered his gaze. You had to be the most beautiful thing he ever saw. Completely bare, hair unfurled out like a halo, pebbled nipples and slick gathering between your thighs. To think he had you, like this, in the room where all his perverse fantasies lied … this had to be a dream. And yet, when his fingers grazed your thigh, felt your hairs quill, it was real. You were real.
“Wait,” he murmured, jogging over to the desk and grabbing a compact camera from the cabinet. He didn’t even close the drawer, too excited, and wound the knob on the camera’s frame. Your head tilted to the side, but he didn’t give you a moment to ask as he waved the camera. “Can I, angel?”
In most circumstances, you would say no. But this wasn’t most circumstances. This was Jihoon, the only man that had ever made you feel unharmed. You were his angel, his muse. God forbid, you liked the way you were seen in his eyes, under his lens.
Your chin nodded, a soft smile gracing your lips.
His cock throbbed in his pants.
Lining the viewfinder up to his eye, he adjusted the aperture to the dimly lit room the best he could. He was hardly a professional; he just enjoyed photos that much. You didn’t smile. You just laid there before him, one arm slightly behind your head so your breasts lifted. He made sure to capture the whole scene, even the wrinkles within the sheets, the slight shine of arousal from your folds. With steady hands, Jihoon held his breath as he pressed the shutter lever and took the photo. Then another, and another. He wanted to be absolutely sure when he developed this film that he captured you perfectly.
And then, he threw the camera onto the ground, not giving you a moment before he was burying his face between your legs. The immediate moan you let out was heavenly. Jihoon was sure that was what the choir sounded like when he was forced to attend church as a kid. You leaned up on your elbows, watching the way his eyes rolled back as he licked into your weeping hole. Your jaw unhinged; you’d never felt anything like this. Never once thought you would feel anything this good. His nose was hitting that part of your core that you had only touched a few times, the place that made your insides turn to mush and cause honey to drip down your thighs, as his tongue did ungodly things to you. Your moans, you realized, only spurred him on more, and he curled his tongue inside you faster.
He looked up, eyes meeting yours from between your thighs, and noticed you were sitting up to watch him. But he wanted you to enjoy this, so he slid one hand up your body and pushed down your stomach. You complied, fully lying back against the mattress, as his other bicep looped around your leg. He need to pry you open more, spread you like a feast.
Rolling up his sleeves, the last thing you expected was him sliding two fingers inside of you while taking your swollen bud in his mouth. You exhaled, hardly a moan, because you weren’t sure what sounds you could make at the moment. Your hips lifted, grinding against his face unintentionally. Jihoon groaned into your pussy and it vibrated through you, causing your nipples to perk so much that they practically hurt. Suckling your clit, he tasted your tangy flavor, and he knew then that no one, not one person, came close to you. You were meant to be his and he was meant to be yours and he would be doing this over and over again.
You weren’t sure how he did it, but he managed to shove his face impossibly deeper. He tugged at your clit, curled those fingers inside you in a come forward motion, making you reel. Your thighs began to shake. How was he able to reach places no one ever could? Your whole body was on fire, and he was still lapping at your core. “That’s it, angel,” he muttered, and you shivered at his hot breath on your swollen clit. “Soak my face. I know you can.”
“Says … says you,” you huffed out, unsure if you even could reach that peak. Had you ever with Han? Now you were questioning everything and this was certainly not the time to think back to your previous marriage.
Jihoon chuckled, and your back almost arched. “Don’t worry. I’ll get you there.”
Then he was going back in, swirling his tongue around that bud that made your knees twitch, pushing another finger inside of you. He was preparing you for his cock, stretching you to see if you would be able to take him, although you were unaware at the time. And when you finally came after just one curl of his three fingers, he knew you’d fit him so well. He almost whimpered at the taste of your release, the way you clamped down on his three thick fingers and rode out the rest of your orgasm on his face.
As he lifted his head from between your legs, you realized he made due on his promise. You didn’t just soak his face; he was covered in you. His chin mostly, but you watched him wiped down his entire face with his sleeve and you instantly blushed with embarrassment. It was impossible to hide.
Jihoon only smiled at your flushed face, getting to his feet and leaning over you. His lips grazed your cheek, feeling how hot your skin was, as he fought with the buckle on his belt. “No need to be embarrassed. Your flavor is … out of this world,” he whispered, and then leaned back slightly to study you. After a long moment, he asked, “Has no one got you off before?”
You closed your eyes and pinched the bridge of your nose. “I’m … not sure. Was it obvious to you?”
He flashed a smile. “Just a smidge.”
A sigh escaped you, and then your lashes fluttered open. “Of course, I … Han and I undoubtedly have had …” The words turned to ash on your tongue. Growing up as a woman during this time taught you to hold your tongue on all things sexual, but he understood what you were trying to say. Your hand smacked down on the bed. “I think he tried and I simply never realized that I was supposed to feel something like that after intercourse.”
“It shouldn’t just be after intercourse, angel,” he explained, licking the corner of his lips. “He should’ve been getting you off in other ways. You were his wife. Someone to worship.”
“Again, Han tried –”
He cupped your cheek, his thumb swiping down the slope of your nose, and your lips immediately sealed. Jihoon had a way of looking at you that just completely silenced you. He was so calm, so soft, when he said, “Can we not talk about your former husband anymore so I can make love to you?”
You nodded immediately, your own hand coming up to squeeze his wrist lightly. He tried to hold himself together at your submission; the last thing he wanted was to frighten you with just how much he needed you. But it was hard. He was fucking hard. Jihoon couldn’t remember another time that he was this aroused, just like how you were minutes ago. Precum was practically seeping through his slacks and there was a pretty significant tent. Your gaze drifted to it every so often. You knew how badly he desired you, and still … you were just as excited. It made him want to push into you deep, fast, so you could feel him stretching you and reach that one spot that made you crumble.
He was a well-heeled man though. He promised to take this slow, and once you were ready … then he would really take you.
Jihoon didn’t just want to make you see stars. He wanted you to see galaxies.
He unbuttoned his shirt in front of you, wanting to make you watch. It was obvious the way your fingers twitched and your toes curled that you liked what you saw: a toned torso with long arms and bulging biceps to match. Jihoon always felt the need to tell the women he slept with that his height was the only short part of him, but your dilated stare told him that you already suspected this. You felt it. And when he finally slipped off his belt, peeled down his slacks, you weren’t completely surprised. But your teeth still dug into your lip, almost hard enough to draw blood, because the size of him was unfair to most men.
Jihoon’s fingers were thick, but his cock was even thicker. His girth should be enough to scare you, and you tried to remain impassive. However … you weren’t sure how he was supposed to fit inside anyone – let alone you – who had only ever slept with your ex husband. He was probably still long when he was soft, but when he was hard like this … Jihoon might as well have been hiding a third appendage in his pants. Veins traveled up the shaft towards a head that was flushed ruby red, precum beading at the tip. You noticed the way his cock quivered, begging for an ounce of attention, flopping against his chiseled abdomen.
He moved forward, and suddenly, the dynamic shifted for him. He was now the predator, and you were the prey. Propping his knee on the edge of the bed, he knocked your thighs open, giving him enough room to take you. Slick oozed from between your legs, and just the sight made more precum trickle down his length. He leaned forward, his breath mingling with yours as he aligned his cock to your entrance with one hand. Using the other, he leisurely took your wrists in his grip and pinned them above your head.
“I’m going to take you slow, angel,” he murmured, trailing his mouth down your jaw, and then your neck, before licking down the valley between your breasts. You began to squirm again, but you didn’t budge. He kept eye contact with you as he swirled his tongue so lightly around one of your nipples, then added, “If you want me to go faster, or harder, tell me. I’ll do whatever you need.”
You nodded quickly. He grinned, as if he wasn’t just about to completely ravish you with his thick cock. He pecked your lips, and then adjusted his position slightly, before you finally felt his bulbous head start to push into your tight channel. Your breath caught, your walls pressing down when he wasn’t even halfway inside. “Relax, angel,” he whispered, lowering his head again to take your hard nipple into his mouth. Just the feeling of him suckling on you like this was the best distraction, and he felt your body give way to him.
Once he was fully sheathed, he paused and savored the tight connection between the two of you. You were almost afraid to move, praying he wouldn’t slip out just yet, no matter how uncomfortable the stretch was. Your eyes shifted over his shoulder, scanning the wall of photos. Every single picture of your face. He was devoted to you – god, was he devoted – and you knew it from the way he heaved against your nipple just from the realization of being inside you finally. In room 217. On the bed he pleasured himself on so many times to your image.
Because it was you. It was always going to be you.
His mouth moved, pressing against the curve of your breast, as he pulled all the way out before slamming back in. You gasped, still not used to the absolute fullness inside of you, but you relaxed again as he rolled your other nipple between two fingers. He began a steady pace, looking down at you so your eyes would never leave his. He wanted to make sure he caught every expression as he fucked into you deep. “God, you feel …” He lost the will to speak, only able to huff and sigh. “Like … like heaven.”
“Really?” You breathed.
“Really,” he muttered. “Terribly so.”
Your pussy was squeezing him so tight, but he wouldn’t yield. Not unless you said so. He molded you just for him. He would ruin you for anyone else. Jihoon had to, because he couldn’t bear the thought of any other man being inside of you, not when he finally tasted heaven. And it was when you said the words, “I want more,” that he might’ve lost all restraint.
“More?” His brow furrowed down at you.
You confirmed with a nod. “Harder. Faster. Please, Jihoon.”
“Angel, you don’t –”
“I do.” Your response was so calm, stern. You knew what you were asking for, and when he was still stalling, you pushed your hips up to meet his, rubbing against his groin. “Take me how you’ve always wanted to.”
His grip on your wrists tightened, and all you heard was him mutter, “Fuck,” before every ounce of control left his body. Pulling out again, he practically pounded back into you, relentless. His new pace knocked the wind out of you, his hips fucking into you so hard that you were sure there would be bruises the next day. And you didn’t care. Because he felt so good, and you felt good, and you finally understood why your old friends used to say that sex was only good with the right person. That was Jihoon. His cock curved into you just right, hitting that one spot, and you keened, whimpering his name like it was the only thing you knew.
“Squeeze me so good,” he grunted, meeting your completely fucked-out stare, “you know that?”
All you could do was nod, mouth falling open as your body vibrated with pleasure.
His free hand left your nipple to hitch your leg up onto his hip, and his groan sounded otherworldly as he fucked into you even deeper than before. He had to be dreaming. No one could ever feel this good, but you did. And of course, it would be you. Wrists fidgeting in his hold, you felt your arousal gush around him just from the pleasure of being absolutely filled like this. You managed to hold your leg up, even when it felt like jelly, and his hand crept between your legs. “I’m gonna make you see stars again,” he promised, fingers finding your puffy clit, “and then I’m going to let go inside you. Sound good, angel? Because I can’t hold on much longer.”
Before you could utter a strangled word, he pinched your clit, and then pressed down on it at the same time he pushed into you hard. All you saw was white. Just as you started to let out the kind of moan that would echo through the entire hotel, he sealed his mouth over yours. He kissed you with purpose, swallowing every sound as you came for what felt like forever. Your walls contracted, clenching around his cock, until he was groaning against your lips and spiraling down the same path. He fucked his release into you, not stopping for one moment, but his hips faltered slightly. Emptying himself inside of you, you felt the stickiness begin to drip from between your thighs and the deafening squelch when he thrust into you one last time. Finally, he exhaled, collapsing on top of you as the last of his release trickled inside.
You were both silent for a while. The sound of heavy breathing filtered throughout room 217. Jihoon finally slipped his hand off your wrists, muted red marks now blooming on your skin, and cupped your cheek so you could look at him. He admired you: hardly able to keep your eyes open, your dilated pupils, the flush on your cheeks and the sweat dotting your hairline, making your perfectly-kept hair now frizzy. You were even more beautiful like this – not put together, claimed. You were all his now. And no one – not even Han – could take you away from this hotel.
“I’ll keep you safe,” he whispered against your kiss-bitten lips, “forever.”
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★ | member — assistant!joshua x boss!fem reader
★ | genre — smut, office au, coworkers, (fake) affair au
★ | word count — 1.7k
★ | synopsis — your assistant joshua is beloved by everyone in the office. but little do they know, you've already got him wrapped around your finger.
★ | warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, semi-public sex (in a storage closet), cheating roleplay, established relationship, workplace power imbalance, name-calling (slut/whore), switch!reader, kinda bratty!reader
★ | notes — i'm very hesitant to say that i'm back but .. for now, here i am! i can't promise i won't disappear again but i do have some things planned - still in the works but i'm trying my best :P thanks always to the wonderful @onlymingyus not just for proofreading but for encouraging me every day not to give up. the only reason that i'm still here and that you're reading this fic right now is because of her <3 if you enjoy this fic, please reblog and tell me your thoughts in the tags!! reblogs are super important to tumblr and it lets me know you want more like this :)
“you want that promotion or not? i said, fuck me harder.”
joshua groans, his fingers digging into your waist as he holds you in place, but you can feel the difference as he begins to snap his hips into you with more force. “that better? is that hard enough for you, ma'am?”
he's teasing you and you know it, but you're not about to let him have the edge over you, not yet at least. “do you want the whole office to hear you, hong? want everybody to know that you're sleeping your way to the top? i should let somebody else have the position instead, if you're gonna be so damn cocky about it.”
the look on his face makes your walls squeeze tighter around him, and you grin triumphantly when he lets out a stifled whimper in return. it takes him a second to recover but he just grunts at you without a reply, and that's how you know you've got him exactly where you want him.
you like this. you love the push and pull that exists between you two, the taunting and teasing that makes this kind of sex feel so good, so dangerous. you're addicted to the way he never lets you have anything too easily, and he can't get enough of the way you never let him have it either. it's the perfect arrangement for the both of you; you get your needs satisfied (and you really do mean satisfied), and he gets to climb the corporate ladder or whatever it is that men want.
it started, of course, how any affair starts: stolen glances, you brushing against his shoulder whenever you walk past his desk, him lingering in your office long after your business together should have finished. you never thought you'd ever risk your career and your reputation in such a blatantly foolish way, but at this point in your life you know exactly what you want, and it's a risk you're willing to take. over and over, taking it again and again and again—
that's how you've found yourself here now, sitting on top of a table, knees bent with your high heels up in the air as he fucks into you, your usually-neat grey pencil skirt bunched hastily around your hips. it feels like the setup of a bad porn movie, but the way he buries his cock so deep into you is anything but bad.
your ankles rest on joshua's broad shoulders in a way you're definitely not flexible enough to hold for very long, but somehow he makes it work. the empty storage closet is plenty big for the both of you, but where's the fun in that? the way he's got you crammed up against a wall, rutting into you desperately, makes your heart race with excitement. he knows you get off on the danger, the thrill of being caught in such a vulnerable position with one of your employees, because so does he.
“your husband know you get fucked like this?” joshua says suddenly through gritted teeth. the fire in his eyes while he speaks is what makes everything about this feel so much better. it's wrong and you both know it, but how can it be wrong if it makes you feel like this? “do you think he'll be able to tell, once you get home tonight and you let him make love to you, that you've been nothing but a whore for your secretary all day long? does he even know that his beautiful little slut doesn't wear panties to work anymore?”
“does your wife know?” you bite back at him, your voice just a little bit breathier than before. he knows he's starting to get to you, saying all the right things to have you a trembling mess in front of him, laid out for him like a fine meal on a silver platter.
he just scoffs, dragging you by your hips farther down the table to get a better angle. you don't have time to try to hide the yelp that escapes you when he starts hitting even deeper than before, bracing both hands flat behind you for support.
“she knows that she'll keep her pretty mouth shut if she knows what's good for her…” he murmurs as he leans closer to you, pushing your knees to your chest and practically folding you in half, “… and keep taking this cock like a good girl. isn't that right?”
you whine and let your head fall backwards, finally conceding. you can feel the way his dick curves up into you, brushing against that spot that makes your toes curl. “josh, please—”
“oh, so it's ‘josh’ now, is it?” he smirks. his hips never let up, and you can already tell you're gonna be feeling this later. “all it takes to break you is getting some good dick for once, huh?”
you don't reply, too busy fighting to keep yourself focused on breathing and thinking clearly. his pace nearly makes you dizzy, trying to keep up with the relentless way he snaps into you.
“hm, but i think i prefer ‘mr. hong’. or ‘sir’.” he pulls out almost all the way, letting his length drag against your walls before driving back in even deeper than before.
“like hell i'm calling you that. you better hurry up, before someone catches us in here and then i have to have you fired. nepotism, or whatever.”
“i don't think that word means what you think it means, babe.”
“i don't fuckin’ care, just—”
but before you can finish he cuts you off with an especially rough thrust that leaves you whimpering. you can feel yourself climbing higher and higher, and your hand flies up to grip his shoulder in a weak attempt to stabilize yourself.
“you look so cute when you've gone all stupid on my cock, though. maybe i'll let you sit under my desk and suck me off, once i get that promotion and i've got a corner office all to myself. doesn't that sound like a much better use of your time, ma'am?”
you would've loved to have a snarky comeback prepared for that, but with another powerful thrust he's already pushing you over the edge, and all you can do is moan his name and struggle to stay as quiet as you can. the force of your orgasm sends your legs sliding off his shoulders, but he guides them to wrap around his waist instead, the plastic of your heels clacking together as they lock in place behind his back.
“that's it, keep cumming on my cock,” he groans, squeezing your hips tighter. he leans down to kiss the top of your breasts spilling out of your bra, moaning against your soft skin as he coaxes you through your high. “gonna make you feel so good, just let it all out for me.”
before you've even finished coming down he slips one hand between your legs to rub at your clit and it nearly makes you shout, your back arching towards him. you're getting overstimulated fast and he knows it, but you can tell he's getting close, too. little beads of sweat have begun to form along his hairline, normally perfectly styled but now flat and sticky with perspiration. his voice comes out broken, a low murmur stuck in his throat. “say my name, baby. say my name and tell me how much you love this.”
“l-love your cock, shua,” you gasp breathlessly, your walls fluttering around him. “don't stop— don't stop, please.”
he pulls out suddenly, barely managing to aim away from you before he cums and just narrowly misses your clothes. he curses under his breath, his hand wrapped tightly around his shaft. his eyes are squinted shut and his brows are furrowed in concentration as he squeezes out the last few drops, his lips parted and glossy with spit.
the look on your face almost seems disappointed, glancing down at the ropes of white now splattered on the surface of the table before you look back up at him. “could've finished in my mouth or something,” you mutter as you fold your arms over your chest, only half pretending to pout.
“didn't have time. it came on too fast,” he says, panting as he tucks himself back into his slacks and does up the zipper with a heavy exhale. without hesitating he leans in to kiss you, a simple peck that makes your stomach flip the same way it has for years. “besides, you don't wanna ruin your appetite. i took out chicken for dinner later, gonna make those tacos you like.”
“ew, gross. but fine.” you scoff and roll your eyes at him, but you can't hide the happy little way your lip quirks up into a smile.
he offers his hand to help you to your feet but you swat it away, smoothing your skirt before you automatically reach up to straighten his tie.
"i'll leave first," you hum, running your fingers through his hair in an attempt to make it not look like he just got done railing you in a closet. "so when everybody sees you leaving alone, they'll think you were just jerking off in here like a weirdo. nobody will ever suspect."
joshua just laughs and gently wraps his large hand around your wrist, pulling you back towards him to fix the buttons on your blouse. “i hate to be the one to break it to you, baby, but most of them were at our wedding. might be a little too late for that, i think.”
his lips brush against your ear as he speaks, his voice low and teasing, and it sends a shiver down your spine. you pull away from him with a huff just as he finishes the last button, feeling your cheeks heating up. he grins as he watches you try to smooth your skirt down one last time, pointedly looking away from him in an attempt to hide how flushed you are. god, it's cute. not a day goes by that he ever regrets making you his wife, despite the fact that pretending you're not is one of your favorite things to do.
"whatever. now, clean this up and get back to work, before i divorce you.”
he just laughs again, leaning against the edge of the table as he affectionately watches you wobble towards the door. “mhm, sure. see you at home, baby.”
i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, please reblog or leave a comment or an ask! it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! i put a lot of time, love, and effort into my writing, so feedback is really appreciated and motivates me to keep posting :) thanks for reading!!
🔮 preview. “You don’t have to believe me when I say I want to defile you. I’ll prove it to you soon enough,” Wonwoo’s smirk widens. “You might be an angel, but angels aren’t impervious to sin. After all, demons were angels once, until they stopped lying to themselves and gave in to the carnal pleasures. We’ll get there, don’t worry. I might be a demon, but I can be patient.”
tw/cw. Mentions of porn and bdsm, unprotected sex, multiple sex positions, multiple reader orgasms, oral/pussy eating, praise, slight degradation, manhandling, fingering, overstimulation, foreplay, etc… I pet names: (hers) angel, baby.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 7.6k
🍭 aus. Non idol au, angel & demon au, enemies to lovers, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. So think of it kind of like the Disney movie about emotions, Inside Out, where the demon and angel view Mingyu’s world through a viewing station and speak to him through his subconscious to guide him one way or the other. Also, please note: I’m not religious, so my interpretation of angel!y/n warring with herself over temptation is simply an interpretation and a fanfic.
Prologue:
You can remember the day you first saw Mingyu as if it were only this morning. He was the sweetest child, visiting church with his family at age four. There was something so adorable about his all-white outfit, the slacks and button-up with a vest. He looked very devoted and very determined as he stood up and sang the church songs with his whole little chest.
That was the day you asked to be his guardian angel, and for a time, nothing had ever been so easy.
Mingyu is pure of heart in a way most humans can never even dream of being. Some kids have a demon on their shoulder from an early age, a pest to be dealt with and chastised by both angel and parent, but not Mingyu. It was just you and him, for many, many years, and you delighted in the fact that you had one of the best boys you’d ever met as your ward.
Many late-blooming children gain a demon when they enter high school, when they first try marijuana or alcohol against their own better judgment - it’s the work of the demon on their shoulder - but again, not Mingyu.
It wasn’t until your good boy was sixteen that things started to shift. His friends were all having their first sexual encounters, and they began to tease your perfect church baby that he was a virgin. Mingyu tried to pretend their words didn’t hurt, but you knew differently. Although you tried to push him in the direction of spending more time with other church children, Mingyu continued to hang out with these raunchy boys, as they were on his high school basketball team.
He held off valiantly from the compulsions of the deadly sins, but one cold December night, your perfect golden boy finally snapped and gave in to temptation.
The demon known as Wonwoo appeared the moment Mingyu first typed the words ‘porn hub’ into his cellphone, and in the darkness of Mingyu’s room, you met the man who would be your antihero for as long as Mingyu would continue to live.
And Wonwoo is a demon with a reputation. Whereas you like to cherry-pick your wards as the kindhearted humans who are pure of soul, Wonwoo is known for his ability to sniff out those who are easily tempted by sin. His last human was a sexual fiend, and he got addicted to OnlyFans. he lost his relationship and all of his money due to Wonwoo’s coaxing of the addiction. The man died prematurely while drunk driving, which is something of a success story for the demon who collected his soul in the end.
So why was this demon in particular here with you and Mingyu?
What had seemed like an easy task had become more difficult than you ever signed up for, and Wonwoo seemed to relish in the knowledge that he was here to contradict your every musing in Mingyu’s ear.
One:
“I hope you have your popcorn ready, angel,” Wonwoo grins, as the two of you hover in your between-worlds guardian posting. It’s kind of like an apartment, with two sides, the good and the evil, with a massive monitor to watch what Mingyu is doing at any given time. There are speakers for you both to try to persuade him into things, and your voices are what Mingyu might classify as opposing sides of his subconscious.
“Frat parties can be positive,” you insist as you settle next to Wonwoo. “Last time, he saved that girl who blacked out.”
“Yeah, the wild goose chase,” Wonwoo rolls his eyes. “He should have been hitting on girls and slamming jello shots, but instead, you convinced him to track down the girl’s dorm room, carry her all the way home, and make sure she was okay when she woke up hours later. He even held her hair back while she puked. Yuck.”
When Wonwoo knows he’s lost to you, he generally fucks off, goes back into his demon side of the apartment, in his demon room, or leaves altogether to complete other tasks.
Demons don’t need sleep, and technically, angels don’t either, but you’re a self-identifying lazy girl, and you prefer to have rest when Mingyu sleeps, rather than be twenty-four seven working like Wonwoo is. You wonder if his packed schedule is what makes him such a dick, but you also have seen the joy he takes in doing bad deeds, and you can only assume that when he’s not here with you in Mingyu’s head, he’s off pillaging and causing mischief elsewhere.
Wonwoo looks through Mingyu’s eyes, and he leans toward the communicator where he can send his words to your ward. “Get a drink,” Wonwoo insists. “Something fun. Something fruity. Something with way too much alcohol that’s masked with sugar.”
You sigh, also leaning forward. “We should start slow with some water.”
You can sense Mingyu’s inner turmoil as he makes his way to the kitchen, and that’s where he bumps into Hoshi and Seungkwan, both of whom are ruled by their inner demon.
“Hey buddy, want a drink?” Hoshi grins, cheeks pink, eyes clouded with booze.
“Reject him,” you say.
“Accept,” Wonwoo pushes.
“Sure, why not?” Mingyu grins, taking the cup of purple liquid. He downs it easily, and you sigh. So tonight will be a more indulgent evening, and you hate the way Wonwoo sits back with a smile.
“Score one for me, angel,” Wonwoo muses.
“The night is still young,” you huff.
Wonwoo leans forward again. “You know what goes good with alcohol? Cocaine. Or ecstasy. Something fun. Maybe molly.”
You’re flabbergasted. “Mingyu has never-”
“Now is the night to start, he’s at a frat party, with friends, and we know Vernon always has a bong on hand. Maybe weed, something chill.”
You hate him, and you spend the next two hours battling Wonwoo for dominance of Mingyu. Wonwoo wins when it comes to alcohol, but your sweet boy isn’t interested in drugs, no matter how much the demon insists it’s the perfect night to dabble.
And that’s when Mingyu first lays eyes on Kimi.
She’s a year younger than him, someone he’s heard about and seen a few times, but never talked to. She looks gorgeous, in a flowy top and jeans that hug her just right. You can sense Mingyu’s heartbeat quickening, and in his drunkenness, he’s even more susceptible to Wonwoo, who leans forward. “You should fuck her tonight, there’s never a time to be a whore like the present.”
“No sex, you like her!” you argue back. “Talk to her, get her name, look for longevity.”
Wonwoo scoffs. “A one-night stand with a girl like that? Who could think of something better?”
“Uh, maybe a relationship?” you snap.
“We don’t know anything about her!” Wonwoo yells. “And we don’t need to know.”
You lean back from where Mingyu can hear your subconscious pushings, glaring at Wonwoo. “What’s with you and rough, anonymous sex?”
“It’s the best way to have it,” Wonwoo tells you, his grin widening. “I think our Mingyu boy would love to try some of the things he’s seen in the porn I’ve pushed him to watch. You know, bondage, tying a girl up, all the good shit.”
“Consentually, of course.”
“With you here, it would always have to be consensual,” Wonwoo scoffs.
“You’re despicable.”
“I’m a demon.”
“Even demons have their limits.”
Wonwoo shrugs. “Not really.”
“Well, my Mingyu is a good person. He’d never stoop to your level.”
“Well, he watches the porn I want to watch.”
You click your tongue. Wonwoo convincing Mingyu to watch porn is always the worst, and it’s when you leave the viewing station. The demon can be particularly convincing when it comes to observing sex acts on Mingyu’s phone, but you know your good boy would never go further than simply watching. He’s not the type to ever act on some of the more raunchy ideas Wonwoo forces into his head.
No matter how hard Wonwoo pushes, you know your Mingyu.
And you’re thankful that by the end of the night at the frat party, Mingyu agrees with you that he’s now too drunk, and he retires to bed.
The viewing station goes dark as Mingyu drifts to sleep, and you stand up with a sigh, glaring at Wonwoo.
“You know, one of these days, you’re going to admit that you kind of like the whole bondage sex thing,” Wonwoo sighs.
“What?” you gasp.
“You always leave the room when he and I watch porn.”
“Because I’m a pure being! Because porn and sex go against what I stand for!”
“Porn and lust might be ‘anti-angel’, but sex is natural; it’s God-created. Humans are like any other animal, and they’re meant to have sex, to procreate,” Wonwoo says simply. “I know you’re loose on your whole ‘celibate until marriage’ ideals. When Mingyu lost his virginity, you were happy because it was soft. You might be an angel, but you don’t follow a strict code, no matter how much you try to convince yourself that you follow the bible to the letter. I’m just curious how loose your morals really are. You might think I’m here to test Mingyu, but I’m really here to test you.”
“And who do you think you are to test me?” you glare.
Wonwoo shrugs. “Just a demon who specializes in lust, a demon who took one look at you on Mingyu’s shoulder and decided, ‘you know what, I’d fuck that angel.’”
“As if that’s a compliment.”
“It is, most angels have sticks up their asses the size of the Empire State Building. And don’t get me wrong, you have a stick up yours too, I’m just curious if you’d want something else up inside of you at the same time.”
“I can’t believe you,” you groan, hating the way your body reacts to his sinister smirk, the slight floodyness of his hair, and the regal way he stares at you.
“You don’t have to believe me when I say I want to defile you. I’ll prove it to you soon enough,” Wonwoo’s smirk widens. “You might be an angel, but angels aren’t impervious to sin. After all, demons were angels once, until they stopped lying to themselves and gave in to the carnal pleasures. We’ll get there, don’t worry. I might be a demon, but I can be patient.”
Two:
“Hold it, you’re not going anywhere,” Wonwoo grins, grabbing your arm as you’re about to leave the room, when Mingyu pulls up pornhub with Kimi on his mind.
“I’m not sitting here with you for this; it’s weird,” you insist, pulling yourself away from him, hating the way the cold of his touch lingers on your skin.
“Boys will be boys, let the man find some release,” Wonwoo tells you, his grin widening.
“Boys may be boys, but you were whispering in Mingyu’s ear all day that he should have a jack off session and think about ‘that chick from the frat party.’”
Wonwoo shrugs. “It wasn’t that hard to convince him.”
You let out a deep breath.
“Watch this,” Wonwoo leans forward so Mingyu can hear him. “Look up ‘rope BDSM.’”
“Oh my gosh!” You cover your eyes with your hands as Mingyu quickly follows through with Wonwoo’s suggestion.
“There’s something so sexy about having complete control of another person,” Wonwoo insists, leaning back and staring at you with dark eyes. “Admit it, you liked controlling Mingyu before I showed up.”
“It’s not remotely the same.”
“It is, sort of.” The demon shrugs. “You like control. I know you do. Because every time you don’t get your way, you have a little fit.”
“I do not!”
“Look at you, angel, you’re practically stomping your cute little foot right now.” Wonwoo lets out a chuckle, and you hate how attractive it is. “If you play your cards right, someday, I might let you have a little control over me.”
“What, like tie you up?” you scoff.
Wonwoo’s grin widens. “Does that excite you?”
“In your dreams,” you snap.
“Angel, we both know I don’t sleep. But I do imagine things, things about you…”
Your breath catches.
“I imagine what you sound like, what you taste like. I imagine the look in your eye when I have you immobilized and at my mercy. I imagine making you crack, making you finally admit that pleasure is exactly what it means in the dictionary; the feelings of delight, something you enjoy with every fiber of your being, something you’d beg for me to give you again and again.”
Your skin is heating with embarrassment, and it’s crazy to you that Wonwoo can say everything he just said with a completely straight face. He has zero shame in admitting the things he’s just admitted, and yet, you feel like the dirty one.
“I’m leaving,” you say again, more firmly this time.
“I won’t stop you; you have full control of yourself, and that’s what makes this interesting.” Wonwoo turns his attention back to the screen, where Mingyu is now in the throes of enjoying porn.
“You’re evil,” you snap.
“I’m a demon, it’s part of the job description,” Wonwoo says absentmindedly.
You fight the urge to stomp your foot, and with one last scoff of displeasure, you go back to your quarters, throwing yourself down onto your bed with a muffled scream.
Three:
It’s been a month of chaos. Wonwoo has become somehow even more dirty, and every time he whispers some sexual idea in Mingyu’s ear, his eyes are fixed on you.
You squirm when he mentions bondage, porn, rough sex, and more dirty things that are not for an angel’s ears.
And to make matters worse, you know that Wonwoo is imagining himself doing all of these dirty things to you. To be the object of sin and desire is new to you, and it brings an uncomfortable feeling to the pit of your stomach.
You grapple with yourself every night, unable to get Wonwoo’s voice out of your head.
The word ‘tantalizing’ has never had much merit for you, but now, you understand. Wonwoo oozes sex and intrigue; he makes your mind go to places it's never before visited; dark, lustful places that make your heart race and your skin tingle.
The little smirk that quirks onto his lips when he knows he’s irritated you has become burned into your mind's eye, and you can’t escape the shiny points of his canines, or the flash of black that overtakes his irises when he’s being demonic.
You can feel your resolve to stay true to your morals is slipping, and in its place is a growing need that’s threatening to overtake you, body and soul.
This is the power of a truly strong demon, and it both scares and excites you while you war with yourself.
Four:
After another long day of Wonwoo being raunchy, Mingyu finally goes to sleep. The viewer goes dark, and you stand up with a sigh. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this,” you muse, “but I’m thankful you didn’t push for more porn.”
“He’s on a streak, you know,” Wonwoo smirks. “But I figured I could let you off the hook for one night.”
“Let my pure boy off the hook, you mean.”
“No, I meant what I said. You’re the one who has a problem with it, not Mingyu. He’s just a hot-blooded man who’s hardly had any good sex in his life. A bit of porn can’t hurt.”
You roll your eyes. “Scientists who study the interaction between porn and erectile dysfunction would beg to differ.”
“Human scientists.” Wonwoo’s smirk widens.
“I’m not having an argument with you, I’m off the clock.”
“Off the clock,” the demon repeats with a chuckle.
“Yes, off the clock, which means I also don’t have to deal with you anymore.”
“You enjoy ‘dealing with me.’” Wonwoo insists.
You scoff loudly. “In what diluted world can you come to that conclusion?”
The demon steps closer to you. “The world where I’m a demon who can read sexual energy, and lately, it’s been wafting off your aura like smoke. And where there’s smoke, well, there’s fire.”
“I think you should get your eyes checked,” you fire at him, your arms crossing over your chest in an effort to keep that ‘sexual energy’ contained.
“You’re such a virgin that it’s almost laughable,” Wonwoo tells you, his voice lowering. “Most angels don’t have the kind of lustful energy you do, virginity and all, but every being that exists is plagued by at least one of the seven deadly sins, angels included. It seems to me that your carnal desire is sex, which isn’t anything to be ashamed of. I’ve worked with angels who are greedy, angels who have a sense of divine wrath, but pride is the main trait I’ve seen. One could argue that all three of those sins are more disgusting on an angel than that of simply wanting to be touched, to experience one’s form to the fullest.”
Your mouth feels dry, and you lick your lips, unsure of what to say.
“Don’t worry, angel, I don’t need a response, not really. But… I would never defile an angel without her wanting it, so when I ask you this next question, I’ll need at least an enthusiastic nod if not a verbal ‘yes.’”
“What do you need to ask me?” you whisper.
Wonwoo is close enough to touch you now, and he reaches for your hand, tracing his thumb against your palm. Your mind is telling you to pull away, but you can’t. His touch is cold, but there’s something so nice about it…
“Can I kiss you?” Wonwoo asks, his words hanging in the air like a heavy smog.
You try to swallow the lump in your throat, but it does little to help, and you stare at the beautiful demon. Your body is screaming yes, but your mind is still plagued with trepidation.
“It’s a sin.”
“A kiss isn’t a sin, and besides, you’re off the clock, remember?” His smirk is just so beautiful, and you have to remind yourself that even though he’s a demon, Wonwoo was crafted by God’s own hands. “I think you can forgive yourself for a small misdemeanor, after all, humans are forgiven for much worse.”
“I…” Your heart is hammering in your rib cage, and never in your long life have you felt a desire like this.
“Or… I could wait,” Wonwoo sighs. “I won’t pressure you. I’m a demon, but I’m not an asshole.”
The idea of waiting even longer makes your skin tingle, and you can feel a frown of dissatisfaction appearing on your face.
“You can kiss me,” you say, and the words feel foreign on your tongue.
“Even though you hate me?” Wonwoo grins, cocking a brow.
“Even though I hate you.”
The demon lets out a laugh, dropping your hand in favour of grabbing your hips. He pulls you toward him, being shockingly gentle for a man who’s so outspoken about his taste for rough sex.
“Nobody has to know about this,” Wonwoo whispers as he leans closer. “Even angels are allowed to have dirty little secrets.”
“Then this will be our little secret,” you breathe, swallowing thickly as your hands instinctively go to his shoulder, tugging the demon even closer.
He meets your gaze as he slowly leans in, giving you all the time in the world to change your mind. But you’re in too deep now, and there’s no going back.
His lips press against yours gently, and your whole body is flooded with what you can only describe as pleasure, like a cool breeze wafting over you on an extremely hot day. You want more, and Wonwoo tugs you closer by your hips, his tongue snaking out to rub your lower lip.
Your mouth opens a little, a whimper escaping you as the kiss deepens. Wonwoo releases a low growl, and butterflies erupt in the pit of your stomach from the sound.
Nothing in the world has ever made you feel this way, as if you’re glowing, and all because a dark being is tantalizing you toward sin.
With a gasp, you pull away, breathing heavily.
Wonwoo holds you, not pushing for more; he gives you mental space to analyze what’s just happened, while still keeping you physically close, like a protector.
It’s such an odd notion, the idea that a demon could be any sort of protection for an angel like you.
“I think…” You swallow thickly. “I think I need to have some time alone now.”
“I understand,” Wonwoo nods, his hands slipping away from your hips. “The ball is in your court, angel. Until you decide what you want to do, this is our little secret.”
“Our little secret,” you repeat like a mantra, but the words don’t do anything to help the anxiety building inside of you. It’s as if at any moment you could be struck down for impurity, except, even when you’re alone later, no hand of God comes to smite you.
You think carefully about what Wonwoo’s said, about all living things having their sinful, carnal desires, even angels.
Maybe this is natural, maybe this is okay… maybe.
Five:
You’ve been yearning for Wonwoo in a way you’ve never yearned for anything since your creation. It’s taking every ounce of your self-restraint to keep your distance from him, and Wonwoo’s not making any of it easy.
Every dirty whisper in Mingyu’s ear, every glance at you while he talks about sex, bondage, and porn…
It has your heart racing, your skin heating, and your core throbbing in a way that used to be foreign but is now becoming all too familiar.
“Should I push for more sin tonight?” Wonwoo asks as Mingyu gets ready for bed. “Or have you had enough?”
You groan, knowing that you’re wet from the day you’ve had. “Please.”
“Please, what?” He cocks a brow.
“I’m so tired of all of this.”
“Tired of fighting your own desires, you mean,” Wonwoo corrects, seeing right through you.
You hate that your ‘sexual aura’ is visible to him, hate that no matter how hard you try to fight it, Wonwoo will always know the truth.
And the truth is: you want this demon to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked. You want to get a taste of the sin he has to offer, the sin he claims other angels partake in secretly.
Why are you holding yourself back, holding yourself to a set of standards, if others in your angelic profession don’t?
“What are you thinking about?” Wonwoo asks, watching you carefully.
You release a deep breath. “Everything.”
“Sounds like a lot,” the demon chuckles.
“It is.”
“Too much for a sweet angel like you to carry on her own shoulders.”
You study his face, wondering if he’s being condescending or not.
“Being a demon is much easier. I don’t have to worry about anything,” Wonwoo continues, leaning back in his seat. “No rules, no standards, no fear. Just existence. Freedom.”
“I’m free,” you insist.
“Are you really?” Wonwoo grins. “Could have fooled me.”
“I am free! I’m an angel! I have the most freedom in the world!”
“Freedom to kiss who you want to kiss? To act on the desires that were literally built into you? Why would God have made you with the sin of lust if he did not intend for you to act on it? To torture you for your entire existence?” Wonwoo shakes his head.
“He bestowed temptation so his creations could rise above it and devote themselves to Him,” you insist. “It teaches spiritual strength and perseverance.”
“Whatever you say, little Miss Sunday School.”
You let out a deep sigh. “Don’t call me that.”
“Why not?” Wonwoo grins.
“Because.”
“Because why?”
“Because it makes me want you even more!” you scream. “For a reason I can not comprehend, I want you. I want you for the teasing, for the chastizing, for this disgusting ego that I would never condone on a human ward. I want it. I want all of you. And it’s killing me!”
Wonwoo stands up abruptly, and you mirror him, heart racing in your chest.
You can’t believe you’ve just admitted all of it, all of the deep dark things you’ve been thinking about for weeks.
“An ego can be sexy,” Wonwoo says finally. “Although I’d classify myself as more of a prideful being than an egotistical one.”
“Ugh!” You throw your hands up, hating that his smirk is the most handsome thing you’ve ever seen, hating that he’s right.
“Tell me you want this again,” Wonwoo urges you, stepping closer.
“I want you! You already heard me say it!” Your skin is hot with irritation, both sexual and emotional, and you can hardly think straight.
“No, tell me you want this.” Wonwoo grabs your hand, tugging you to his chest. He looks down at you, his lips almost ghosting over your own.
“I want this,” you whimper, feeling defeated and broken.
You can no longer hold yourself back, and part of you doesn’t want to.
“I’ll be gentle,” the demon promises, bringing his mouth down to your throat, where he presses soft kisses that take your breath away.
“I thought you liked it rough,” you say, releasing a chuckle that brings your anxiety down.
“I also like pleasure. I’m prideful, not a narcissist. Tonight, your pleasure will come first.”
Your skin tingles, and you swallow a lump in your throat. You can feel your fear dissipating. Part of you had imagined he’d want to try bondage with you right away, so it’s a relief that he’s going to meet you at your level, which is… well, nonexistent.
You are a free being. And tonight, you will lose your heavenly virginity of your own volition.
Wonwoo begins to suck on a spot just below your ear, and it makes you moan. You throw your arms around the demon, tugging him closer.
One of Wonwoo’s hands slips down to your bum, squeezing you through your white pants.
God, he feels so good, and you focus on the feeling, pushing aside your racing thoughts.
You draw his lips to yours, and Wonwoo groans with pleasure, tugging you so you’re flush to his body.
Kissing him is like magic, and you get lost in it easily. Your core is wet, and you can feel your panties getting sticky, which is a tantalizing thought.
“Bedroom,” Wonwoo says, breaking the kiss.
Without missing a beat, the demon reaches down and lifts you bridal style. You gasp, clutching onto his shoulders and blinking up at him.
“Don’t look so surprised,” Wonwoo laughs. “As if I was about to take your virginity in a living room.”
He heads toward your side of the apartment, and he pushes the door of your bedroom open.
Your room is all creams and minimalism, a true safe space, and he pauses to look at it for a moment. He’s never been in your room, nor you in his.
“What’s wrong?” you ask.
“Nothing, it’s just… very different from my side of the space.”
“No whips and chains hanging on the walls?” you tease.
“How about no black onyx floors or dark colours.”
“Well, I am an angel,” you point out as he gently sets you on the bed.
“Yes, baby, the best angel I’ve ever met.”
“Really?”
“Without a doubt. The most angelic.” Wonwoo climbs on top of you, and your legs spread instinctively as the demon looks down at you. “I’ve never met an angel who has never sinned. It’s endearing.”
“Will you still find me endearing after tonight?” you ask.
“I’ll find you endearing forever,” Wonwoo promises.
“Who knew such sweet words could come from a demon.”
Wonwoo laughs. “If anyone deserves sweet words from me, it’s you.”
“You’re just saying that to get me in bed.”
“We’re already in bed.”
“Good point.” You grab the nape of his neck, tugging his lips down to yours.
This verbal foreplay has become trite, and you’re ready for more, ready for all Wonwoo is about to give you.
For the first time, you taste desperation on his lips, and it excites you. He grinds gently down against you, and it’s the first time there’s been pressure on your core. Tingles of pleasure run through you as you tighten your legs around his hips, willing him to push harder.
Wonwoo groans, following through with your silent plea. He ruts hard as you kiss each other, stimulating your clit through your clothing.
One of his hands reaches up and grabs your breast through your white sweater, massaging you and making you gasp.
“Such pretty sounds,” Wonwoo whispers, biting your earlobe gently. “Can’t wait to hear you screaming my name.”
“Wonwoo,” you whimper, wiggling beneath him, eager for more.
He sits up, and with one tug, Wonwoo removes your sweater, leaving you in a cream bra.
“All white everything, huh?” he laughs.
“I’m an angel.”
“So you keep reminding me. You always wear such loose, modest clothing, but I imagined you’d be gorgeous under all these layers.” He licks his lips, his thumb teasing the lace of your bra. “Should I go slow?”
“Go medium,” you tell him.
Wonwoo lets out another chuckle. “That wasn’t one of the options.”
“Make it one of the options.”
He shakes his head at you, leaning down to press his lips to yours.
You thread your fingers through his raven black hair, mewling as he massages you through your bra. Your nipples are aching already, and there’s a sense of great relief when he finally takes your bra off.
“So pretty,” Wonwoo muses, kissing down from your throat to your breasts, where he captures one of your nipples in his mouth.
You whimper desperately, your entire body on fire with the pleasure.
“And so sensitive too,” the demon groans, gently dragging his teeth over your sensitive bud.
“Please,” you gasp.
“Please, what?” he looks up at you.
You let out a shuddery breath. “More.”
“Your wish is my command, angel,” Wonwoo teases, his hand gliding down your body. Deft fingers slip under the waistband of your pants, but he stays over your panties as he makes contact with your clit.
You writhe against the bedding, eyes clenched shut as foreign ecstasy washes over you.
He continues to suck on your nipple as he toys with your pussy.
“Soaking through your panties,” Wonwoo tuts. “My dirty girl.”
Your heart lurches in your chest, and you’re shocked that you like the way his words feel. It’s a sinful kind of praise, and it makes you dizzy as you watch him, anticipating what he’ll do next.
Wonwoo takes his time as he licks and sucks your nipples, playing with your pussy through drenched fabric.
It’s a relief when he finally tugs your pants down, leaving you in only panties.
Then, Wonwoo sits up, tugging his shirt off with one motion.
Your jaw drops at the view of his bare torso. He’s lean but muscled, and you wish you could trace the lines on his skin, but Wonwoo made it clear that tonight is about you.
“I’m going to eat you out now,” Wonwoo explains, as he sinks to the floor. “Bet you taste like nectar and sunshine.”
Talking about your ‘taste’ makes you shy, and you close your thighs, only for him to gently pry them open.
“Don’t be bashful, baby,” Wonwoo coos, pressing kisses to your skin.
“What if I don’t taste like nectar and sunshine?” you ask.
“I can already smell it on you,” Wonwoo promises, an attempt to be assuring, but now you’re talking about smell, and it makes you even more anxious. “You know what, let’s leave taste and smell out of this for now, okay?”
“Yes, please,” you nod, biting your bottom lip.
Wonwoo hooks his fingers in your panties, slowly dragging them down your legs.
The cool air of the room on your wet core makes you groan, back arching a little as you writhe against the bed.
Cold hands grab your thighs, confidently spreading you open.
“Just breathe,” Wonwoo reminds you as he leans forward and licks the entirety of your core lewdly.
“Shit!” you gasp, thighs quaking.
The demon chuckles. “That’s the first time you’ve ever swore.”
You slap a hand over your mouth, and he shakes his head at you, returning to his task.
Soon, you’re moaning through your fingers, and your other hand reaches down to grab at his hair, keeping his face buried between your thighs.
He eats you out like a starved man, ravaging your pussy with licks and sucks that have your head spinning in the best possible way.
And then Wonwoo begins to growl, and you’ve never heard anything so erotic.
Your own gasps and whimpers are filling the room, and you can feel something getting tighter and tighter in the pit of your stomach.
“Wonwoo,” you pant. “I think… I think I’m going to cum!”
He releases a groan, and the vibration of it on your clit makes your legs shake. All of your muscles are tense, waiting for that final push-
Then you look down, and your eyes lock with his. His pupils are blown, and he looks absolutely demonic, but there’s something so incredibly sexy about this powerful demon worshiping you with his mouth on your core-
You cum like an electric shock, your entire body jolting, muscles releasing only to clench again as the waves surge through you.
You scream, grabbing at the bed sheets like an anchor as your orgasm overtakes you.
Wonwoo is unrelenting on your core, groaning and eating you messily, and it only makes the whole situation more erotic.
You’ve been to Heaven, but nothing has ever felt like this.
“Wonwoo!” you scream when the pleasure begins to feel like it’s too much, like you can’t contain or sustain this type of ecstasy anymore.
The demon pulls away immediately, looking up at you.
“Angel,” he breathes, “you’re glowing.”
“What?”
“You’re glowing,” he repeats. Wonwoo grabs your hand from the bed, lifting it so you can see that your skin is literally aglow.
“Is this normal?” you gasp in panic.
“I’ve never seen it.”
“And you fuck a lot of angels?” you snap.
“Not really,” he laughs, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. “I find most of you to be too high-strung.”
“I’m high-strung.”
“But it’s endearing on you.” His thumb gently rubs your glit, and you jolt, releasing a gasp. “Glowing can’t be harmful.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure it’s just pent-up energy,” he muses. “Should I give you more?”
You take all of one second to consider his words before nodding. “More.”
Wonwoo nuzzles against your inner thigh with a laugh, and then he teases a digit between your pussy lips, gently sinking it into you.
You groan, your inner walls having never been touched before.
“So warm,” Wonwoo breathes. “So tight.”
He gently finger fucks you, teasing your hole open, and he brings his mouth to your clit again.
His pace is slow, and you know he’s letting you acclimate to the stimulus.
You can feel yourself dripping on his digit, and the slick is making it all too easy for him to work you open. Soon, he adds another finger, and you groan desperately, loving the slight stretch.
“Gonna make you cum on my fingers before I give you the real thing,” Wonwoo explains.
“Okay,” you whimper.
He returns to sucking on your clit, but he’s not being as gentle as he was before.
You can feel that tension building again, and with each slick sound of his fingers fucking into you, you know you’re getting closer to the edge.
Whimpers escape your lips, and you gasp when he crooks his fingers, hitting a spot that has your whole body coming alight with pleasure.
You’ve heard Wonwoo talk about the ‘g-spot’ before, and you’re pretty sure he just found yours.
Your toes are curling, muscles getting incredibly tight as his pace quickens.
“I’m close!” you cry out, grabbing the bed sheets again, your heart racing in your chest.
Wonwoo groans a sound of affirmation, and again, his noise of pleasure is what sends you over the edge.
Just like the first time, he works you through your orgasm, unrelenting, while the pleasure courses through you. You’re a throbbing, whimpering mess by the time Wonwoo pulls away, and you watch with shy delight as he licks his fingers clean, moaning at your taste.
“How did that one feel, angel?” he asks.
“So good,” you whimper.
Wonwoo stands up, looking down at your nude form.
“Ready for the real deal?”
“I’m scared,” you admit, seeing the outline of his cock through his pants.
“That’s natural,” Wonwoo breathes, undoing his belt. “And if you still want to change your mind…”
“No.” You swallow the lump in your throat. “Let’s do this.”
Wonwoo pulls his pants down, and suddenly, his cock is slapping up against his stomach.
Your jaw drops at the sight of him. He’s long… well, you’re pretty sure he’s long, not that you have much to compare it to.
“That’s going to fit inside of me?” you ask.
“Angel, your pussy is wetter than a slip and slide, it won’t be a problem,” Wonwoo laughs.
“Just… go slow.”
“Not medium?” he teases.
“Wonwoo…” you groan.
“I’ll go slow,” he promises, now fully nude as he climbs on top of you. “Don’t worry.”
Wonwoo presses his lips to yours, and you wrap your arms around the back of his neck, pouring all of your attention into the meeting of your mouths.
Wonwoo slowly begins to rut, teasing his cock through your wet pussy lips and bumping your clit. The grinding feels phenomenal, and soon you’re a moaning mess beneath him, your core aching to be filled.
As if he can read you, the demon reaches for the base of his cock, lining the tip up with your wet hole. His mouth moves to your throat, giving you space to speak if you need him to pause or slow down, but as his tip slips inside of you, you realize there will be no need for breaks.
Sure, the stretch is new, but it’s not bad.
In fact, your pussy is trying to swallow him up, and with each inch after inch, you feel more and more complete.
Wonwoo truly is your opposite, the yin to your yang, and it feels phenomenal to finally be connected like this.
“You okay?” Wonwoo asks, and you can see his muscles feathering, as if it’s taking every ounce of self-control for him not to let loose and fuck you stupid.
“Feels good,” you groan, wrapping your legs around his hips to pull him further into you.
Wonwoo moans deeply, and a moment later, he’s fully sheathed in your wet core.
You both release sounds of pleasure together, and your lips meet in a fiery kiss.
You love tangling your fingers in his hair, and it makes him kiss you harder. He’s still fully inside of you, unmoving as your walls adjust, but soon, your own hips are rocking, and he takes the cue to begin to thrust.
The first movement is shallow and slow, and you revel in the drag of his cock against your inner walls.
You cry out, throwing your head back, and Wonwoo latches onto your throat, sucking and nibbling.
Your pebbled nipples press against his chest, and each movement toys with them.
You can feel Wonwoo everywhere. He’s completely commanding every one of your senses, and not a single thought is going through your mind except for one word: more.
His pace is increasing, and you get the sense that he’s reacting to your sounds, figuring you out based on your whimpering and whining.
You pull Wonwoo away from your throat by his hair, and you open your eyes, looking up at him.
God, he truly is the most beautiful being you’ve ever seen.
He’s truly a vision, lust-blown pupils and all, his hair a mess from where you’re tugging on it.
You breathe in each other, lips almost meeting but just separate, and the teasing makes everything more seductive.
Wonwoo pulls out of you suddenly, flipping you onto your side. He moves behind you, a cold big spoon as he enters you again. His breath is hot on your shoulders, and he takes the opportunity to gently bite your neck, making you gasp. You reach behind yourself, grabbing his hair again, which earns you a groan of pleasure.
His hand is on your hip, and he fucks into you desperately, adjusting your body ever so slightly, opening your leg a little so he can hit deeper.
“Wonwoo!” you whimper when his hand slips from your hips to your core, his fingers teasing your clit.
“That’s it, scream my name,” he grins, biting your earlobe and making you shiver.
“Wonwoo!” you say it louder this time, unable to contain yourself as he works you closer and closer to the edge again.
“Gonna cum on my cock, huh, angel?” he chuckles.
“Yes, I’m so close,” you whimper, pussy tightening around him.
“Not yet.” Wonwoo pulls out of you suddenly, and you whine, only for him to adjust you.
Now you’re sitting on top of him, with Wonwoo propped against the headboard.
“Why am I on top?” you ask, confused.
“Oh angel,” he licks your nipple, “just because you’re on top doesn’t mean you’re the one who is in control.”
His hands are on your hips again, and he lifts you slightly, allowing him to plow up into you.
You cry out from how deep his cock is hitting you, from the way he’s using you like a ragdoll.
You throw your head back, and his mouth latches onto your nipple. Your hands fly to his hair, tangling in the dark curls as he fucks you stupid.
Each smack down of your core on his cock has pressure on your clit, and you can feel that orgasm bubbling again.
You feel drunk, or, what you think being drunk would feel like. It’s a pleasurable dizziness, a mind numbing euphoria and a tingling that flutters through your entire body.
Wonwoo growls, and you know it’s a sound of affirmation, a sound to push you toward the edge.
A few more rough thrusts have you tumbling into ecstasy, your entire core clamping down on Wonwoo’s cock. Your head falls forward, your lips making contact with the crown of Wonwoo’s head as he also groans. He pulls off of your nipple, panting desperately as he holds you down, his cock burried in your throbbing pussy.
You know he’s cumming too, and feel his muscles twitching, his shoulders tight with tension.
And his sounds… nothing in Heaven or on Earth sounds the way Wonwoo does when he’s wrapped in pleasure.
Your entire body sings with delight as the two of you hold onto each other, jolting with the aftershocks of your extreme highs.
The two of you hold each other, breathing in one another.
Wonwoo leans his face against your breasts, and you cradle him.
You’ve never felt this close to anyone.
For a moment you can forget that he’s a demon and you’re an angel.
None of that matters right now.
Finally, Wonwoo pulls away with a sigh. “This changes things.”
“It does,” you agree.
“We’re bound together for as long as Mingyu lives, so… you better not decide you hate me tomorrow.”
You laugh. “You irritate me, but I don’t hate you.”
“I’m not going to stop telling Mingyu to pursue his sexual desires.”
“I never expected you to,” you admit with a sigh.
“And you’re… okay with it now?”
“As long as it’s consensual, fine, he can be as dirty as he wants to be.”
Wonwoo laughs, cuddling close to your chest again. “See, in this day and age, some sins like premarital sex are outdated.”
“We could debate that,” you laugh, running your hands through his hair.
“I think I would like that.”
“I feel like it would be a case of unstoppable force meets immovable object.”
Wonwoo chuckles, and you love how beautiful he is when he smiles. “Sounds like us.”
“But we can’t let our sexual escapades get in the way of doing our job for Mingyu,” you declare.
“I wouldn’t dream of taking you away from your work,” Wonwoo groans. “You’d probably bite my cock off if I tried.”
“Consider yourself warned.”
“Consider yourself worshipped.”
“Huh?” you blink down at him.
“You’re still glowing, angel.” Wonwoo plays with a piece of your hair. “It’s been a long time since a demon like me has had anything to look up to.”
“You look up to me?”
“In some ways, but don’t make this more of an embarrassment than it already is.” Wonwoo lets out a sigh. “You’ve reformed me… slightly.”
“Don’t tell me it’s the power of good pussy.”
“Great pussy,” Wonwoo corrects. “And no. If I’m being honest, I think you’ve been changing me for the better for a while, bit by bit.”
“I’m happy to hear that.”
Wonwoo smiles. “And I’m just happy.”
“I can live with that.”
☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! this one was fun, it was a little late to be posted because my puppy has a tooth infection and it's been a hell of a week. reminder! Patreon charges on the FIRST of every month, so if you're going to get my Patreon, just be aware of that, or wait until June 2nd :)
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🔮 preview. Your core tingles as you test the bindings on your wrists. There is truly so much he can teach you about the darker side of sex, the pain that turns into pleasure, the freedom of being completely immobilized and at the mercy of someone you trust to take care of you.
cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, bdsm themes, wrist bondage, pleasure dom!Wonwoo, oral/pussy eating, wonwoo has powers in this… including a long demon tongue, overstimulation, finger fucking, body/breast worship, squirting, dacryphilia (arousal from tears/crying), dirty talk, praise, multiple reader orgasms, etc… I petnames. (hers) angel.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.6k I teaser wc. 140
🌙 starring. Wonwoo x afab!Reader
bonus
To your shock, Wonwoo isn’t pushy with you the way he’s pushy with Mingyu. He hasn’t said a word about the soft sex the two of you have continued to have for months now, and he hasn’t made you feel lesser than him for being vanilla either.
Wonwoo treats you very differently than he treats Mingyu, but you know that every time Wonwoo brings up rough sex in Mingyu’s ear, it’s because Wonwoo himself has an interest in it.
The demon has talked about being a sexual pleaser, and your need to please him has grown too. Can you really hold Wonwoo and yourself back from reaching another level by dabbling with the BDSM themes he’s so fond of?
Can you… condemn him to vanilla sex for as long as the two of you are connected through Mingyu?
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