Love Fanfic

Thais will be a blog for interaction with the characters of lookism

Daddy’s princess

—————————————————————————

Gapryong Kim x R.femele.

—————————————————————————

( Daughter )

—————————————————————————

The morning sun had barely risen and Gapryong Kim was already awake.

In fact, he had been awake for a long time.

Not because I had an important commitment.

Not because I was worried about some gang.

Not even because someone had asked for your help.

The reason was much simpler.

Your daughter was still sleeping.

And he was sitting next to her bed watching.

Again.

You had woken up during the night and found exactly the same scene.

And now, hours later, he was still there.

Sitting.

Observing.

As if he were protecting the greatest treasure in the world.

Because, for him, it was.

The girl slept peacefully, hugging a stuffed animal that had already seen better days.

The hair scattered on the pillow.

The little face crumpled with sleep.

And Gapryong watched everything with such a soft expression that no one would believe that man was a legend of the underworld.

You leaned against the door.

- You're doing it again.

Without looking away from his daughter, he replied:

- She grew up.

- She slept yesterday and woke up today.

- He grew up.

- Gapryong.

- He grew up.

You gave up.

There was no possible discussion.

The girl was only six years old.

But for Gapryong it seemed that time was passing too fast.

Too fast for his taste.

Very fast.

He still remembered the day he held her for the first time.

I still remembered the tiny size of her hands.

I still remembered the first time she held his finger.

From the first word.

From the first steps.

From the first crooked drawing.

From the first spontaneous hug.

Everything.

He remembered everything.

As if it had happened yesterday.

And maybe that's why it was so hard to accept that she was growing up.

When the girl finally woke up, the first thing she saw was her father's face.

She blinked.

Then he smiled.

- Daddy.

Ready.

It's over.

Gapryong was defeated.

Completely.

That simple "daddy" had more power over him than any fighter in Korea.

- Good morning, princess.

- Did you keep watching me sleep again?

- No.

- Yes, it was.

- Maybe a little.

- Mom said this is weird.

- Your mother says a lot of things.

The girl laughed.

And he felt his heart melt once again.

Breakfast was a disaster.

As always.

Because her daughter had discovered that she could convince her father to do almost anything.

- I want pancakes.

- Of course.

- With chocolate.

- Of course.

- And whipped cream.

- Of course.

- And ice cream.

- Of course.

- GAPRYONG!

His voice echoed through the kitchen.

He blinked.

- What?

- It's breakfast!

- She's growing.

- Ice cream doesn't help in growth.

- There's milk.

- GAPRYONG!

The girl laughed.

And the traitor still had the courage to laugh along.

Later, in the park, the situation got even worse.

His daughter ran from one side to the other.

I climbed on the toys.

It slipped.

Jumped.

And Gapryong followed her every move like a paranoid bodyguard.

- She's fine.

You commented.

- I know.

- Then stop following her.

- I'm watching.

- You're three meters away from her.

- Security.

- She's on a slide.

- Slovers are dangerous.

- They're not.

- You never know.

You observed that huge man discreetly accompanying a six-year-old child on the playground.

And he had to admit it.

It was ridiculously cute.

But the moment that most revealed who Gapryong really was happened at night.

Always at night.

When the house was silent.

When the rush was over.

When there were no distractions.

That's when his daughter showed up carrying a book.

- Daddy.

- Yes?

- History.

And that's it.

Once again he let go of anything he was doing.

Anything.

It didn't matter.

Because for him there was nothing more important.

She climbed on his lap.

He rested his head on his chest.

And he started reading.

Sometimes I missed the voices of the characters.

Sometimes I made up parts.

Sometimes he turned a simple children's story into an absurd adventure.

But the girl loved it.

Because it wasn't about the book.

It was about him.

One of those nights, after the story ended, she remained quiet on his lap.

Thoughtful.

Gapryong noticed immediately.

- What was it?

- Can I ask you something?

- You can ask anything.

She played with her own fingers.

Hesitant.

- Do you love me?

The world seemed to stop.

For a second.

Just a second.

But it stopped.

Gapryong looked at his daughter.

For those curious little eyes.

And he felt something tighten inside his chest.

Because she was still too young to understand.

Too small to know.

Then he hugged her.

Slowly.

With care.

As she did since the day she was born.

- Listen well, princess.

She raised her head.

- I love you more than anything.

- More than mom?

- Don't say that around her.

The girl laughed.

- More than your friends?

- Much more.

- More than your favorite food?

- Much more.

- More than anything?

Gapryong smiled.

A small smile.

Sincere.

Full of love.

- More than anything.

She seemed satisfied with the answer.

He leaned his head on his chest again.

And a few minutes later I was already sleeping.

Gapryong remained motionless.

Without wanting to wake her up.

Without wanting to miss that moment.

Because I knew she would grow up.

I knew that one day I wouldn't ask for more stories.

I wouldn't sleep on your lap anymore.

I wouldn't hold your hand anymore to cross the street.

And that was exactly why he valued every second.

Every hug.

Every smile.

Each "daddy".

Because Gapryong Kim could be a legend.

He could be a leader.

He could be one of the strongest men of his generation.

But, above all...

He was just a father completely in love with his own daughter.

—————————————————————————

For your daughter

Between battles and scars, Between victories and pain,

There was a day when your little fingers They held mine.

And at that moment I found out

That the strongest man in the world

It's not the one who wins all the fights,

But the one who receives a hug from his daughter

And feel the heart surrender.

—————————————————————————

Someday....maybe?

—————————————————————————

Gapryong Kim x R.femele.

—————————————————————————

First version

—————————————————————————

The problem started the day you agreed to go out for a drink with Gapryong Kim.

Until today you regretted that decision.

Not because the night had been bad.

Quite the contrary.

You laughed.

They talked.

They discussed.

They laughed again.

And, for the first time, you saw the legendary leader of the Fist Gang as just an ordinary man.

An annoying man.

Stubborn.

Funny.

And surprisingly nice to have around.

The real problem came weeks later.

When you realized that something was strange.

Very strange.

And then came the confirmation.

You sat staring at the result for several minutes.

Without believing it.

Not knowing whether to laud or cry.

Because that was impossible.

Absolutely impossible.

But apparently it wasn't.

When he finally told Gapryong, he was silent.

Five seconds.

Ten seconds.

Fifteen seconds.

You started to get worried.

Maybe he would have gone into shock.

Maybe I was scared.

Maybe I was thinking about the future.

Maybe...

- So let's get married.

You blinked.

- What?

- Marry.

- No.

- Right.

He nodded.

You sighed with relief.

Until he continues.

- So let's get married next month.

- GAPRYONG.

- What?

- I said no.

- I heard.

- So?

- I'm respecting your opinion.

- It's not.

- Yes, I am.

- It's not.

- I am.

- No.

- Yes.

You closed your eyes.

That would be a long day.

The months have passed.

And, to his surprise, Gapryong never disappeared.

It never disappeared.

He never ran away from responsibilities.

On the contrary.

He was always present.

Consultations.

Shopping.

Preparations.

Everything.

Sometimes it was annoying.

Very annoying.

But he was there.

Always.

When the girl was born, you thought you would finally have peace.

You thought it was wrong.

Because Gapryong became the most passionate father on the planet.

The little one barely opened her eyes and he was already completely surrendered.

- She's perfect.

- You're just born.

- Perfect.

- He's crying.

- A perfect cry.

- Gapryong.

- Yes?

- You're exaggerating.

- I'm not.

It was.

A lot.

The years passed quickly.

Your daughter grew up surrounded by love.

And surrounded by a father completely incapable of saying no to her.

What generated numerous problems.

- Daddy.

- Yes, princess?

- I want that horse.

- Of course.

- GAPRYONG, NO.

- Right.

Pause.

- Two horses then?

- GAPRYONG!

The funniest thing was that you never got married.

Despite all his attempts.

And there were many.

Many indeed.

Every birthday.

All holidays.

Every time I saw a flower.

Every time I saw a bottle.

Every time I breathed.

- Marry me.

- No.

- Why?

- Because we are friends.

- Friends who raise a daughter together.

- Yes.

- Friends who spend every day together.

- Yes.

- Friends who love each other.

You were silent.

Gapryong smiled.

That smug smile.

The same smile from years ago.

- I heard this silence.

- You didn't hear anything.

- Yes, I heard.

- No.

- Yes.

On any afternoon, you watched your daughter run through the garden.

Laughing.

Just kidding.

Happy.

Gapryong was sitting next to him.

Older.

Quieter.

But still the same man.

After a few minutes he said:

- You know...

- Hmm?

- I think everything went well.

You watched the girl running after butterflies.

Then he looked at him.

- I think so.

Gapryong smiled.

And, for the first time in many years...

He didn't ask you to marry him.

Wht probably meant that he was planning to order the next day.

—————————————————————————

Guilty for everything

—————————————————————————

Gapryong Kim x R.femele.

—————————————————————————

Second version

—————————————————————————

The damn problem started the day you decided to accept an invitation from Gapryong Kim.

Until today, when he stops to think about his life, he could point out exactly the moment when everything started to go wrong.

Or right.

Depending on the mood.

Because, honestly, it was difficult to decide.

It was his fault.

Always his.

You should have gone home that night.

I should have refused the invitation.

I should have ignored that smug smile he used when he thought he had already won an argument.

But no.

You stayed.

And he ended up spending hours sitting at a simple table, talking to the man who was known throughout Korea as a legend.

The funny thing was that, far from the fights, far from the gangs and far from fame, Gapryong was just... Gapryong.

A man who laughed too loudly.

Who talked too much.

That interrupted people.

That told absurd stories.

That turned any serious conversation into some ridiculous joke.

And that, unfortunately, was much more pleasant than you would like to admit.

You talked until late.

They laughed.

They discussed.

They played.

And, for the first time, you weren't looking at the Pre-Generation legend.

I was looking at a friend.

That's why, weeks later, when he realized that something was different, his first reaction was to deny.

No.

Impossible.

Definitely impossible.

But the days passed.

And the suspicion continued there.

Until the moment came when you couldn't ignore it anymore.

And when she finally had the confirmation in hand, she sat for a long time staring at the result.

No reaction.

Without words.

Not knowing if I wanted to scream, cry or just disappear.

Because his life had just changed completely.

When you told Gapryong, you were prepared for everything.

Prepared for shock.

Prepared for nervousness.

Prepared for fear.

Prepared even for him to faint.

What you didn't expect was his reaction.

He heard.

He was silent for a few seconds.

And then he said:

- Great. Let's get married.

You blinked.

- No.

- Right.

- Right?

- Right.

You breathed a sigh of relief.

Until he continues:

- So let's get married next month.

- GAPRYONG!

- What?

- I just said no.

- I heard.

- So why are you talking about marriage?

- Because you're pregnant.

- So what?

- So what's going to get married.

- Let's not go.

- Yes, let's go.

- Let's not go.

- Let's go.

- No.

- Yes.

You stared at that man for several seconds.

And he realized something terrible.

He was serious.

Completely serious.

The legendary gang leader, the man who faced any enemy without fear, was absolutely convinced that a pregnancy automatically meant marriage.

You almost wanted to hit him.

Almost.

What happened in the following months was something no one expected.

Especially you.

Because Gapryong didn't run away.

It didn't disappear.

He didn't make excuses.

It didn't disappear for days.

On the contrary.

He showed up for everything.

Everything.

Consultations.

Exams.

Shopping.

Preparations.

Complaints.

Mood swings.

Everything.

Sometimes you woke up angry.

And he was there.

Sometimes I wanted to be alone.

And he showed up with food.

Sometimes I wanted to complain.

And he sat down to listen.

It didn't always help.

But I listened.

And as much as you hated to admit it, he was trying.

Really trying.

The day his daughter was born was the day Gapryong Kim completely lost any dignity he still had.

The little one had barely arrived in the world and he already looked like a defeated man.

In love.

Completely surrendered.

He held the girl in his arms as if she were made of glass.

As if any wrong movement could break it.

You had never seen that man so careful.

So scared.

So happy.

He stared at her little face for whole minutes.

And then he said:

- She's perfect.

- She was born five minutes ago.

- Perfect.

- He's crying.

- A perfect cry.

- Gapryong.

- Yes?

- You're exaggerating.

- I'm not.

It was.

A lot.

The years have passed.

And somehow, you built something that no one could define.

They weren't husband and wife.

They weren't just friends.

They weren't just parents.

They were a family.

A strange family.

Confused.

Messy.

But a family.

Your daughter grew up surrounded by love.

And also surrounded by a father completely incapable of saying no.

It was a constant problem.

If she wanted a candy...

He gave two.

If you wanted a toy...

He bought three.

If I wanted a dog...

He showed up with two.

You spent half the time educating your daughter.

And the other half educating Gapryong.

Which was much more difficult.

On any afternoon, while watching the girl play in the garden, you realized how much everything had changed.

She ran through the grass, laughing out loud.

The hair messed up by the wind.

Happy.

Completely happy.

Gapryong was sitting next to him.

Older.

More mature.

But still carrying that same smile from years ago.

For a few minutes you were just watching.

In silence.

Then he said:

- She looks like you.

- Thank God.

- Hey.

- It's true.

- She inherited my beauty.

- He inherited his stubbornness.

- That too.

You laughed.

And he was watching you for a few seconds.

That look made his heart tighten in a strange way.

Because he had been looking at you that way for years.

With love.

With admiration.

With love.

Even without saying it.

Even without charging.

Even without demanding anything.

Just staying.

Always staying.

Then he sighed.

- You know...

- Hmm?

- I still think we should get married.

You closed your eyes immediately.

- My God.

- What?

- You never give up.

- Never.

- It's been years.

- I know.

- We have a daughter.

- I know.

- We are a family.

- I know.

- So why do you still insist on it?

Gapryong was silent.

A rare silence.

Then he replied softly:

- Because since the day you gave me that flower inside the bottle, I knew I would never find anyone like you.

For the first time in a long time, you didn't have a ready answer.

And that seemed to make him dangerously satisfied.

Because that smug smile came back immediately.

- I saw this break.

- It doesn't start.

- You didn't answer.

- I didn't stay.

- Yes, it was.

- Gapryong...

- Yes?

- Shut up.

And he started laughing.

That loud laugh.

Familiar.

The same one who had entered your life years ago and refused to leave.

And, watching your daughter play while the man next to you kept laughing like an idiot, you realized something.

Maybe that invitation to drink had really ruined his life.

But, if it were possible to go back in time...

You would probably accept it again.

—————————————————————————

A friendship with flower petals

—————————————————————————

Gapryong Kim x R.femele.

—————————————————————————

Gapryong Kim's fame had already spread throughout the region.

Not just because of the fists.

Not only because he was the leader of the Fist Gang.

But because that man simply couldn't pass by a woman without trying to win her over.

The method was always the same.

A flower.

A glass bottle.

A confident smile.

And then came some absurd phrase about marriage, destiny or how many children they would have.

Everyone already knew the story.

Some women laugh.

Others sent him away.

Some were delighted.

Gapryong never seemed to care about the result.

For him, the important thing was to try.

That afternoon, however, fate decided to play a trick.

You were sitting in a small corner snack bar.

The movement was quiet.

Some people were talking.

Others played cards.

You just enjoyed your cold drink after a tiring day.

That's when the door opened.

And Gapryong Kim came in.

High.

Confident.

With that smile that seemed to say that the whole world was your friend.

Immediately some customers recognized him.

Others just felt his presence.

Gapryong walked around the place greeting people.

Talking.

Laughing.

Until your eyes meet yours.

And at that very moment you knew.

"Oh no."

He smiled.

You sighed.

He started walking towards her.

You sighed harder.

Because I already knew exactly what was coming.

When he arrived at his table, he put a hand on the back of the chair.

- You're beautiful.

- No.

- I haven't even finished.

- No.

- But I still...

- No.

The nearby customers started laughing.

Gapryong put his hand on his chest as if he had been hit.

- You didn't even give me a chance.

- I gave it. I just wasted it.

The laughter increased.

But instead of being embarrassed, he seemed even more fun.

- So let's start again.

- No.

- Your name?

- No.

- Do you want to marry me?

- No.

- Have children?

- Definitely not.

- Not even one?

- Not one.

- Two?

- No.

- Three?

- Gapryong.

- Yes?

- Go away.

He opened a huge smile.

As if that was the best conversation I had that day.

A few minutes later he finally walked away.

You believed you had won.

That he had given up.

That you could finish your drink in peace.

But then an idea came up.

A stupid idea.

Perfect.

In the vase that decorated her table there was a single flower.

Inside his hand was the empty glass bottle of the drink he had just had.

You observed the two objects.

Then he observed Gapryong talking on the other side of the hall.

And a smile appeared on his face.

You carefully removed the flower from the vase.

He put it inside the empty bottle.

He got up.

Walked to him.

And he extended the improvised gift.

Gapryong stood still.

He blinked once.

Twice.

Three times.

The entire hall was silent.

Because everyone knew that gesture.

It was his gesture.

Your trademark.

Your famous method of conquest.

But now someone had used it against him.

- Here.

You said calmly.

- It's for you.

Gapryong received the bottle.

He looked at the flower.

He looked at you.

He looked at the flower again.

For the first time in many years, the legendary Gapryong Kim seemed completely lost.

- You...

- Yes?

- Are you asking me to marry you?

The hall burst into laughter.

Tom Lee almost fell off his chair.

Jinyoung choked on his own drink.

Even Elite had to hide a smile.

And you replied:

- No.

- Oh.

- I want your friendship.

Silence.

Gapryong looked at you as if he had taken the most powerful blow of his life.

Friendship.

I'm not dating.

No wedding.

No children.

Friendship.

It was the first time someone returned his own strategy just to put him in the dreaded category of friends.

Those present kept laughing.

Tom Lee was crying from laughing so much.

Jinyoung needed to lean on the table.

Elite watched the scene with a very rare expression of fun.

And Gapryong remained still.

Holding the bottle.

Holding the flower.

As if that were the most precious object I had ever received.

Then, slowly, a smile appeared.

Not the conqueror's confident smile.

Not the leader's smile.

But a sincere smile.

Almost juvenile.

- You know...

He looked at the flower.

- This is the first time someone beats me using my own weapons.

You crossed your arms.

- So you accept my friendship?

Gapryong was silent for a few seconds.

Then he stretched out his hand.

- I accept.

And, to the amazement of everyone present, it was probably the first proposal made to Gapryong Kim that he accepted without trying to turn her into marriage five seconds later.

Probably.

Maybe.

Well... at least that day.

A few days after the episode of the flower in the bottle, the story had already spread.

Everyone knew.

Everyone.

The legendary Fisting Gang found out.

The merchants found out.

The ladies in the neighborhood found out.

And, to Gapryong's misfortune, no one let the subject die.

That afternoon, you were sitting on a bench watching the movement of the street when you heard familiar footsteps.

- You're smiling alone.

- And you're spying on me.

- I'm walking.

- There are twenty minutes behind me.

- Coincidence.

- Of course.

Gapryong sat next to him.

For a few minutes they were just watching people pass by.

It was strange.

The friendship between you had arisen in the most unlikely way possible.

But it worked.

Maybe because you were one of the few people who didn't seem impressed by his fame.

Maybe because he could act normally around you.

Or maybe because you just liked each other's company.

The silence was interrupted when a lady passed by the street.

She looked at you.

Smiled.

And asked:

- So you're dating?

You opened your mouth to answer.

But Gapryong was faster.

- No.

The lady seemed surprised.

- Oh.

- We're friends.

You nodded.

- That's right.

The lady kept looking.

Clearly waiting for more explanations.

Then Gapryong completed:

- Friends with benefits.

You froze.

The lady froze.

Even the passing dog seemed to freeze.

- What?

- Benefits.

- GAPRYONG!

He pointed at you.

- She helps me when I'm in trouble.

- This is friendship.

- She listens to me complain.

- This is friendship.

- She brings me food sometimes.

- THIS IS FRIENDSHIP.

- Exactly.

He opened his arms.

- Benefits of friendship.

The lady took a few seconds to process.

Then he started laughing.

You put your face between your hands.

- One day you'll kill me with shame.

- Impossible.

- Why?

- Because you like me.

- I like a lot of problems. You're just another one.

Gapryong put his hand on his chest dramatically.

- Cruelty.

- True.

- I'm a sensitive man.

- You started asking women to marry you before you even knew their names.

- That has nothing to do with it.

- It's all related.

The lady left still laughing.

And you noticed that Gapryong was also smiling.

That light smile.

Without the leader's mask.

Without the pose of the legend.

Just a man happy to be spending time with someone he liked.

Then he looked at you.

- You know...

- Hmm?

- I still think friendship is just the first step.

You closed your eyes.

- Gapryong...

- Yes?

- No.

- Not even a little bit?

- No.

- Wedding?

- No.

- Two children?

- No.

- A dog?

- ...

- I saw this hesitation.

- I didn't hesitate.

- Yes, he hesitated.

And his victorious smile lasted exactly three seconds before you pushed him off the bench.

Which only made him laugh more.

—————————————————————————

You arrived with a flower, As you did with so many others.

I answered with an empty bottle, And an unexpected friendship.

You were talking about destiny, I was talking about reality.

But, between laughter and provocations, I found out that behind the legend

There was only one man

Who liked to be by my side.

—————————————————————————

The flower of the bottle

—————————————————————————

Gapryong Kim x R.femele.

—————————————————————————

Everyone knew Gapryong Kim's fame.

It was impossible not to know.

The women commented on each other. The men on the street made jokes. The members of the Fist Gang had already given up trying to stop him.

Because Gapryong had an absurd habit.

He couldn't see a beautiful woman without immediately deciding that she should marry him.

And it didn't matter if I knew her for five years or five seconds.

The ritual was always the same.

A flower.

A glass bottle.

And a convinced smile.

No one knew exactly where that tradition had come from.

Some said he had seen a couple do that when he was young. Others claimed that, at the time when he was poor, a flower and an empty bottle were all he could offer.

But, for some reason, that became his trademark.

He delivered the flower inside the bottle and asked, with all the naturalness of the world:

"Do you want to marry me and have my children?"

I usually got a slap.

Sometimes I got a no.

On rare occasions, I received a yes.

But that never stopped him from trying again.

It was simply who he was.

Impulsive.

Charismatic.

Ridiculously womanizer.

It's completely impossible.

You've known Gapryong for years.

Long before he became a legend.

Long before people start saying your name with admiration.

For you, he was just Gapryong.

The inconvenient friend who showed up without warning.

Who stole food from your plate.

Who sat next to you without being invited.

Who seemed unable to take anything seriously.

Maybe that's why you never noticed.

I had never noticed the way his eyes always looked for you first when you entered somewhere.

I had never realized that he always walked on the closest side of the street.

I had never realized that the problems seemed to disappear before they even reached you.

Because Gapryong was careful.

Too careful.

The truth was simple.

He loved you.

Not like he loved women for those who made absurd proposals.

Not like I loved fleeting adventures.

Not like I loved a momentary passion.

He really loved you.

Deeply.

Silently.

Painfully.

It was such an intense love that it scared him.

Because, for the first time in his life, he had something to lose.

You.

That's why he never confessed.

That's why he never gave him a flower.

That's why he never put a bottle on the table and asked that question.

Because if you refused...

He would survive.

But maybe he would lose his friendship.

And that was something Gapryong just couldn't stand.

So he chose to love in secret.

Protect her in secret.

Take care of you in secret.

Keep that feeling just for yourself.

On that day, however, everything changed.

You were sitting in a small coffee shop.

The afternoon sun crossed the windows and illuminated the wooden tables.

In front of him was only an empty bottle of the drink he had just had.

Next to her, a small decorative vase with flowers.

You observed the two objects for a few seconds.

Then an idea came up.

A completely stupid idea.

But funny.

You took one of the flowers from the vase.

He put it inside the empty bottle.

And she started laughing alone.

Because that seemed exactly like one of Gapryong's ridiculous proposals.

That's when the cafeteria door opened.

And as if the universe had decided to participate in the joke...

Gapryong came in.

He smiled when he saw her.

That familiar smile.

That smile that made his heart race for years.

He walked to his desk.

He sat in front of you.

And he started talking as he always did.

You answered absently.

Because I was still thinking about the joke.

Then, without thinking too much, he pushed the bottle in his direction.

The flower swayed gently inside the glass.

- Here.

Gapryong looked.

First for the bottle.

Then to the flower.

Then for you.

And it froze.

For a moment, the world seemed to stop.

You waited for a reaction.

A joke.

A laugh.

Anything.

But he remained motionless.

Eyes fixed on that little improvised gift.

Because for you that was just a joke.

But for him...

That was all.

It was the gesture he had repeated hundreds of times.

It was the symbol he always offered to others.

But that you never received.

It was something simple.

Ridiculously simple.

A flower plucked from a vase.

An empty bottle.

Nothing special.

And yet...

It was the most precious gift anyone had ever given him.

Because it had come from you.

From the only person who really mattered.

He looked up slowly.

His heart beat so hard that it even hurt.

But you just smiled.

Carefree.

Innocent.

Without imagining the chaos he had caused.

- Don't think nonsense - you said, laughing. - I just want your friendship.

The words crossed his chest.

But not in a cruel way.

Because he already knew.

I always knew.

And even so...

I couldn't help but love her.

Gapryong smiled.

A small smile.

Soft.

Almost melancholic.

Because if friendship was all you could offer...

Then he would accept her.

I would accept and keep it as a treasure.

Just like I would keep that flower.

Just as I would keep your every smile.

Every conversation.

Every memory.

Because loving you never meant possessing you.

To love you meant to wish you happiness.

Even if this happiness never chose him.

Then he took the bottle carefully.

As if it were something fragile.

As if it were something precious.

And at that moment he decided that he would keep that gift forever.

Because that flower inside the bottle wasn't just a joke.

It was the only time in his entire life that someone had offered him his own heart...

Even without realizing it.

—————————————————————————

You gave me a flower Forgotten inside an empty bottle. For you, it was just a joke. For me, it became an eternal memory.

I spent my life offering flowers to the world, Smiling, playing and hiding the heart. But I never imagined that one day I would be the one who would receive them.

You said you just wanted my friendship. And I smiled, because your smile was worth more than my pain. So I kept loving you in silence, Like someone who protects a rare flower from the wind.

Because some people are loved to be happy. And others are loved simply because they exist.

—————————————————————————

More than friends

—————————————————————————

James Lee x R.femele.

—————————————————————————

The rain fell gently on the roofs, turning the night into a veil of shadows and golden reflections. The rhythmic sound of the drops against the window filled the silence of the apartment, creating an intimate and nostalgic atmosphere.

You were sitting on the couch, barefoot and a cup of tea in your hands, watching the city lights. James was by his side, relaxed in a rare way, without the rigid posture he used to maintain in front of the world.

With you, he didn't need to be a legend. Just James.

- Remember when we promised never to move away? - you asked, with a slight smile.

He turned his gaze to you, his eyes calm and deep.

- You made me promise - he replied, in a low tone. - And I never broke that promise.

You grew up together, sharing secrets, dreams and silences. Since childhood, his presence has always been a refuge for him - the only constant in a life marked by changes and conflicts. Between you, there were no masks, only absolute trust.

You laughed softly.

- Even when I was unbearable?

- Especially at this time - he said, with an almost imperceptible smile.

The closeness between you was always natural. Their shoulders touched, and his warmth seemed familiar, comforting. When his fingers intertwined, there was no hesitation - just the continuity of something that had existed for years.

- You've always been my home - you whispered.

James watched her in silence for a moment, as if each word was carefully absorbed.

- And you were always the only person who managed to find me, no matter where I was.

He took his hand to his face, touching it gently, as if he feared breaking something precious. The gesture was slow, intentional, full of feelings that never needed explanation.

When their lips met, the kiss was soft and deep, without urgency - a mixture of longing, trust and contained desire. There was no hurry, just the certainty of belonging. Each touch seemed to say what words could not express.

You rested your forehead against his, feeling his breath mix with yours.

- We were always more than friends, weren't we? - you murmured.

- Always - he replied.

He wrapped you in a firm and protective hug, and you nestled against his chest, listening to the constant rhythm of your heart. The rain continued outside, but at that moment, the world seemed distant and irrelevant.

Between you, there was no doubt, just an intimacy built over a lifetime - a connection that began in childhood, matured over time and blossomed into a silent, intense and inevitable love.

And that night, once again, you chose each other.

—————————————————————————

The friendship between you and James Lee is old, deep and built on absolute trust. Since childhood, you have shared secrets, experiences and silences that no one else can understand. You are one of the few people who know him beyond the cold and impenetrable image he presents to the world.

Between you, there is no need for masks or formalities. Communication happens naturally, often in looks or subtle gestures. You understand him without requiring explanations, while he trusts you in an instinctive and unwavering way.

Your presence represents stability and comfort for James. By your side, he can be just himself, without the weight of the responsibilities and expectations he carries. In return, he offers loyalty, protection and a rare constancy in his life.

—————————————————————————

I just need you

—————————————————————————

James Lee x R.femele. (Wife)

—————————————————————————

The door closed with a sharp impact, echoing through the silent apartment. The sound was enough to announce his presence before you even saw him. The air seemed denser, carried by the tension that James brought with him.

You looked up from the couch, where you were sitting, and found him standing at the entrance of the living room. The impeccable suit contrasted with the intense and dark look. His shoulders were stiff, and his expression, usually impassive, denounced the weight of the day.

- Difficult day? - you asked softly.

He didn't answer right away. Just watched her.

And, at that moment, you understood. It wasn't anger. It was exhaustion, pressure and the need to forget the world for a few moments.

Without saying a word, James walked towards him. His steps were firm, determined. When he stopped in front of you, his eyes fixed on yours with sweeping intensity.

- I need you - he murmured, his voice low and hoarse.

Before you could answer, he took her in his arms and lifted her up with ease. A small sigh escaped your lips, but you couldn't resist. Her arms wrapped around his neck, while he took her to the room with determination.

He laid her on the bed carefully, although the gesture was loaded with urgency. Your eyes met for a brief second, as if seeking consent - and you responded by approaching him.

When their lips touched, the kiss was intense and deep, loaded with desire and contained emotion. There was no hesitation, just the need to feel, to reconnect. His fingers intertwined in his hair, while James deepened the kiss, firm and dominant.

He slid his lips over her skin, depositing burning kisses along her neck and shoulders. Each touch was a mixture of intensity and care, as if it were marking his presence, but without ever exceeding his limits. The warmth of his breath made his skin shiver.

You let out a low sigh when he brushed his teeth gently against your skin, causing a chill that ran through your whole body. There was no violence - just passion, urgency and the trust built between you over the years.

- You're the only place where I find peace - he whispered against his skin.

His hands rested on his face, guiding him back to his gaze.

- So stay - you replied, with a soft voice. - Here, you don't need to fight anything.

His lips met yours again, now slower, but still intense. The world outside has ceased to exist. There was no hurry, just the certainty of belonging.

James rested his forehead against his, his breathing still irregular.

- With you... I don't need to be a legend - he said in a low tone.

You smiled, gently caressing his face.

- No. With me, you just need to be James.

And, at that moment, wrapped in silence and complicity, the storm inside him finally found shelter.

—————————————————————————

The relationship between you is based on complicity and security. Despite the physical intensity, there is no aggressiveness, but a mutual need for comfort and closeness. You become the only place where he can lower his guard, abandon control and find peace.

—————————————————————————

Chose to stay

—————————————————————————

James Lee x R.femele. (Wife)

—————————————————————————

The penthouse was silent, elegant and cold, illuminated by the soft lights of the city that spread through the huge glass windows. Down there, Seoul pulsated like a living organism. Up there, everything was control.

You were in the center of the training room, with your fists bandaged and your breathing firmly, hitting the sandbag with impeccable precision. Each impact echoed through the environment with an almost musical rhythm - strong, calculated and relentless.

James Lee watched in silence, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed. His eyes did not show emotion, but followed his every movement with absolute attention.

- You'll end up tearing the leather - he said, in a low tone.

You struck another blow before stopping, releasing the air slowly. His eyes met his, confident and intense.

- Then buy another one.

The answer came without hesitation, full of firmness and self-confidence. A light and almost imperceptible smile appeared on his lips.

- Always direct.

You removed the bands from your hands with precise movements.

- Always efficient.

The dynamic between you was like this: sharp, elegant and powerful. There was no submission, only mutual respect. You were not a shadow next to him - you were a force that walked together, shoulder to shoulder.

As you approached, you took a glass of water on the table and took a sip, without looking away.

- There was movement today - you said. - It was nothing I couldn't solve.

James remained silent for a few seconds, analyzing every detail of his face, as if looking for traces of fatigue or injuries.

- I know - he replied. - Still, I don't like it when you expose yourself.

You raised an eyebrow.

- Concern?

- Accuracy - he corrected, approaching. - I don't like unnecessary variables.

You smiled from the corner.

- Lie. You just don't like it when you're not in control.

He stopped in front of you, a few centimeters away. The tension in the air was not hostile, but electric.

- And you hate being controlled - he said.

- Exactly.

For a moment, silence settled between you, dense and comfortable. It was the kind of silence that only two people who deeply understand each other can share.

You ran your hand through your hair and got even closer.

- I admit that I miss it - he said, with a slight smile. - Action. Challenges. The cold in the belly before a fight.

James tilted his head slightly.

- What about fame? From the stages? Of the crowds shouting your name?

You shrugged.

- Stages change. Not the adrenaline. Besides... - his eyes shone with determination - I chose to be here.

He watched her for a long moment. You were not only his wife; you were his equal. Strong, strategic, indomitable. The only person who never bowed to him - and precisely for this reason, the only one he never wanted to dominate.

James stretched out his hand and gently held his.

- You didn't choose an easy life.

You intertwined your fingers in his, firm and secure.

- I chose you.

The sincerity in his voice was unshakable.

He approached, his presence engaging and calm.

- And I chose someone capable of facing the world by my side.

A confident smile appeared on his lips.

- Not by your side, James.

You leaned slightly, looking him in the eyes.

- With you.

For a rare moment, his mask faltered. There was no coldness there, just recognition - and something deeper, reserved only for you.

Outside, the city lights kept shining. Inside, two equally dangerous forces remained in perfect balance.

Partners. Equal. Unbreakable.

And, above all, chosen by each other.

—————————————————————————

The relationship between you and James Lee is a union of equals, built on absolute respect, unwavering trust and silent admiration. As his wife, you do not occupy a secondary role, but that of a strategic, emotional and moral partner. Together, you form a rare balance between strength and control.

—————————————————————————

You as if you were my little sister

—————————————————————————

James Lee x R.femele. (Music)

—————————————————————————

The studio was quiet, except for the low sound of a bass being tuned and some experimental notes escaping from an old amplifier.

You were sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall, with the instrument on your lap, absently moving the strings as if you were trying to find something that was not exactly a musical note, but a state of mind.

James Lee was there too.

Not like "James Lee" for real for the world. Here he was just himself, without titles, without history, without the weight that the underworld put on his back. He was leaning near the window, watching the street outside as if he didn't belong to either world.

You knew he didn't need to be there. He never "needed" anything. But it still appeared.

You let out a short sigh, without looking directly at him.

"Are you going to stand there all the time?"

Silence.

James didn't answer right away. He just looked away from the street to you, as if he was analyzing you again, even after seeing you hundreds of times.

"Are you trying to find something in today's song too?" He asked, his voice low and neutral.

You gave a half smile.

"Maybe. Or just trying not to go crazy."

He didn't react like someone who would find it funny. But he didn't ignore it either. It was the kind of answer he absorbed, kept, and maybe thought later.

You played some random notes again. It wasn't a ready song. It was another attempt to organize internal chaos into something that made sense.

James approached slowly and sat on the old sofa in the studio, still keeping a respectful distance, as he always did with you. He didn't invade spaces. He watched.

"You always do that when you're restless," he said.

"Do what?"

"Turn confusion into sound."

You stopped for a second.

That got you more than it should.

Because he was right.

You looked sideways at him.

"And you? What do you do when you're restless?"

James was silent for a few too long seconds. It wasn't hesitation. It was a choice. He chose what to reveal and what to hide even from you.

"I don't get restless," he replied.

You laughed low.

"A lor."

This time, he looked directly at you. There was no irritation. Just that strange calm that he always carried.

"You talk as if you knew me."

You played some softer notes again.

"I know enough. You show up here when you don't need anything, you keep looking at the street as if you were waiting for something... and you never say what it is."

Silence again.

The sound of his instrument filled the space.

James finally spoke:

"Maybe I just like it here."

You raised an eyebrow.

"From the studio falling apart?"

"From the silence that exists here," he replied.

That made you stop playing for a moment.

Because coming from him, that was almost a confession.

You sighed and lightly hit the couch next to you.

"Sit here then. Stop standing there as if you were a movie security guard."

He didn't move immediately. James never did anything on impulse. Everything about him seemed calculated, even the small gestures.

But after a few seconds, he got up and sat next to her.

The space suddenly became more strange. Minor. More real.

You played again, but now slower.

"You know," you said, "you act like you don't have anyone, but you always come back here."

James looked forward.

"And you act like you don't notice, but you always let me come back."

You laughed lightly.

"Maybe I just don't care enough to kick you out."

He didn't answer right away. But there was something in the way he became quieter that seemed... different.

After a while, you stopped playing.

"If I were your brother," you said suddenly, "I would probably force you to talk more. Or I'll beat you until you get less weird."

James turned his face to you.

"You couldn't hit me."

"I know," you answered quickly. "But that's not the point."

Silence.

You continued:

"It's just... you look like someone who never had space to be human."

This sentence was in the air for a few seconds.

And for the first time, his expression changed almost imperceptibly. Not for clear emotion. But for something deeper, quieter.

"And you?" He asked.

You shrugged.

"I just pretend I have it."

He looked at you for longer than usual.

And then, in an almost imperceptible tone, he said:

"You are the closest to this that I have in family."

That didn't come as a dramatic confession.

It came as a fact.

Simple. Direct. Irreversible.

You were silent.

Not because there was no answer.

But because, coming from him, that meant more than anything exaggerated that anyone could say.

You picked up the instrument again, but didn't play it immediately.

"So stop disappearing for so long," you said low.

James didn't answer.

But he didn't leave.

And, for the first time, this seemed to be his answer.

—————————————————————————

The relationship between you and James Lee is marked by a silent, deep and non-verbalized connection, built more by constant presence than by words.

You enter his life as someone out of his world, someone connected to music, sensitive to what you feel and turn it into sound. He, on the other hand, comes from a world of violence, control and masks, where feelings are always repressed or used as a strategy.

Over time, the studio becomes a meeting point between these two extremes. There is no declared romance or great emotional demonstrations. The bond grows slowly, almost imperceptible. You notice patterns in it that no one else notices: the habit of observing in silence, of returning without explanation, of staying even when there is no apparent reason.

James, in turn, finds in you something rare in his life: a space where he does not need to act as a leader, weapon or symbol of something greater. He doesn't need to protect himself all the time, nor calculate every word. Even without admitting it directly, he begins to associate his presence with stability, silence and something close to peace.

Your relationship works like a kind of chosen family. You take on a role similar to that of an emotional brother, someone who confronts, provokes and at the same time accepts him without demanding that he explain himself completely. He doesn't show this openly, but recognizes you as one of the few people who are allowed to approach without immediate threat.

There is no explicit dependence, but there is habit, return and constancy. You don't save him and he doesn't protect you in the classic sense. Instead, you stabilize each other in different ways: you give humanity to his world, and he brings a strange sense of security to his silence.

Basically, it is a relationship based on continuous presence, implicit trust and a rare type of bond where the unsaid is more important than any statement.

—————————————————————————

If Gun Park fell in love

—————————————————————————

Gun Park x R.femele.

—————————————————————————

1. You wouldn't fall in love with appearance

He would be attracted by mental strength, resilience and unwavering character, not by beauty or superficial charm.

—————————————————————————

2. Respect would come before love

For Gun, respect is the foundation of any bond. He would only be interested in someone he considered worthy.

—————————————————————————

3. I would show feelings through actions

Instead of romantic words or gestures, he would express his affection through protection and investment in the person's growth.

—————————————————————————

4. I would constantly test the loved one

His way of showing interest would include challenges and trials to evaluate strength, loyalty and emotional resistance.

—————————————————————————

5. I would maintain absolute emotional control

Even in love, he would not lose his composure or show vulnerability explicitly.

—————————————————————————

6. It would be extremely protective

Any threat to the person he loves would be treated quickly, silently and relentlessly.

—————————————————————————

7. It wouldn't be possessive in a dramatic way

His jealousy would be cold and calculated, resolved without emotional confrontations or public demonstrations.

—————————————————————————

8. It would preserve your independence

Love wouldn't divert him from his goals. He would never allow his feelings to compromise his strength or purpose.

—————————————————————————

9. It would reveal affection in a subtle way

Small gestures - such as attention, constant presence and trust - would replace open demonstrations of affection.

—————————————————————————

10. It would require emotional and mental equality

He would value a partner capable of facing him intellectually and resisting his intensity.

—————————————————————————

11. I would see the relationship as a strategic partnership

For Gun, loving would mean recognizing someone as an ally, not as a dependent.

—————————————————————————

12. You would remain faithful to your personal code

Even in love, he would continue to be guided by discipline, hierarchy and his philosophy of strength and evolution.

—————————————————————————

In summary, Gun Park's love would be silent, selective, intense and based on absolute respect, closer to an alliance between equals than to a conventional romance.

—————————————————————————

Their physical demonstrations of affection would be discreet, controlled and full of meaning. It would not be expansive or romantic in a conventional way, but each gesture would reveal intensity and intention.

—————————————————————————

As he would demonstrate physically

1. Silent proximity

He would remain next to the loved one without saying anything, using his own presence as a form of protection and trust.

—————————————————————————

2. Subtle and calculated touches

Small contacts, such as holding the arm or touching the hand, would be rare and significant, reserved for specific moments.

—————————————————————————

3. Instinctive protection

Gun would automatically place himself between the person and any threat, guiding him firmly and safely.

—————————————————————————

4. Hold your chin or face

In intimate moments, he could slightly lift the person's chin to face her, demonstrating mastery and genuine interest.

—————————————————————————

5. Adjust details naturally

Fixing the collar of an outfit, moving a strand of hair away from the face or cleaning a wound would be discreet gestures of care.

—————————————————————————

6. Rare, but intense hugs

They would not be frequent, but when they did, they would convey security and protection, more than tenderness.

—————————————————————————

7. Contact in dangerous situations

He would hold her hand or pull the person close to him to keep her safe, showing concern without verbalizing.

—————————————————————————

8. Prolonged and intimidating look

Eye contact would be one of the most striking forms of expression, revealing respect and deep interest.

—————————————————————————

9. Allow personal approach

Gun is extremely reserved; allowing someone to invade his physical space would be one of the greatest proofs of trust.

—————————————————————————

10. Rare and significant kisses

If they occurred, they would be firm and intense, without excessive sentimentality, reflecting their self-control and emotional depth.

—————————————————————————

Each gesture would be economical, but full of intention, reflecting your disciplined personality and your unique way of connecting emotionally.

—————————————————————————

How would he be in bed?

1. Dominant and safe

Gun would naturally take control, guiding each moment with confidence and precision. His presence would convey authority and protection, creating an atmosphere of dedication and emotional tension.

—————————————————————————

2. Silent sensuality

He would speak little. His looks, gestures and closeness would replace words, making every moment full of meaning.

—————————————————————————

3. Firm and intentional touches

Nothing would be casual. Each caress would have purpose, revealing intensity and self-control. He would value eye contact and deep physical connection.

—————————————————————————

4. Calculated rhythm

Gun wouldn't be rushed. He would conduct the experience with patience and mastery, enjoying each reaction and keeping control of the situation.

—————————————————————————

5. Contained emotional intensity

Although reserved, he would show desire in an intense and focused way. For him, intimacy would be a space of rare and carefully granted trust.

—————————————————————————

6. Respect-based connection

More than passion, there would be respect and mutual recognition. He would value someone capable of keeping up with his intensity and firmness.

—————————————————————————

What would the treatments be like after an intense night?

1. Silent care

He would not be overly affectionate, but would demonstrate attention in a discreet way - ensuring comfort and well-being without the need for words.

—————————————————————————

2. Quiet proximity

I would remain next to the person, in silence, transmitting security and acceptance. His presence would be comforting and stable.

—————————————————————————

3. Subtle gestures of affection

I could adjust the sheets, move a hair away from the face or keep the person close with a light touch, demonstrating care without exaggerated sentimentality.

—————————————————————————

4. Respect for space and rest

Gun would understand the value of silence after intensity, preserving the moment with discretion and serenity.

—————————————————————————

5. Implicit protection

Even after intimacy, you would maintain a protective posture, making it clear that the person is under your trust and care.

—————————————————————————

6. Return to elegant composure

After the intimate moment, he would resume his usual posture - calm, controlled and sophisticated - without this diminishing the importance of the experience.

—————————————————————————

With Gun Park, intimacy would not only be physical, but a rare expression of trust and recognition - deep, silent and unforgettable.

—————————————————————————

I wanted to make an indifferent

 Make a Valentine’s Day their way....

🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩

Valentine's Day🤔🍋‍🟩💕

—————————————————————————

Gun Park - James Lee - Kitae Kim.

—————————————————————————

R.femele. (Doing it their way)

—————————————————————————

Valentine's Day "Gun Park style"

The day started normal... until you realized that, unlike previous years, he wasn't thinking about flowers, dinner or gifts.

Gun Park is not the type who feels the need to celebrate dates - but you knew that he likes challenges.

So you decided to do something different: called him to fight

——————

The sun was already setting, dyeing the city orange and purple.

You arrived at an abandoned shed - perfect for training, jumping and releasing the adrenaline.

You knew he was going to take it seriously.

And you were ready.

Gun was there, sunglasses in place, impeccable posture, arms crossed.

His look said everything without having to say a word:

"Do you really want to play with me?"

You smiled.

- "Yes. Let's see if you can catch me."

You started by jumping and deflecting, moving with the grace of an acrobat.

Gun advanced with deadly precision, every movement calculated, every step measured.

But you were fast, agile, unpredictable - and with each jump or roll, you felt the adrenaline increase.

He was having fun.

Yes, fun. You had never seen that rare smile, that sparkle in your eyes that appeared only in real challenges.

You faced each other hand to body, jumping into boxes, dodging blows, rolling on the floor.

At each of his attacks, you responded with flexibility and agility.

It wasn't just strength against force - it was dance, strategy, reflex, electrical tension between you.

And in the middle of the combat, something unexpected happened:

You stumbled... he held you.

And before I could react, you were stuck together, breathing fast, heart racing.

The shed echoed sounds of footsteps, muffled laughter and the accelerated heartbeat of both of you.

Without realizing it, the fight became an approach.

Gun held you firmly - not to hurt, but to protect you - and then your eyes met.

An impulse, a quick kiss that turned long.

You reciprocated, body to body, heart to a thousand, completely forgetting that it was Valentine's Day.

He would never have planned something romantic like that... but the intensity, the challenge and the adrenaline became the way he showed affection.

You moved away slightly, panting.

Gun adjusted his glasses, but this time there was a slight smile on his lips, almost imperceptible.

- "Valentine's Day... it wasn't so bad, after all."

You left the shed, hands in hand.

The illuminated city seemed smaller near the energy you shared.

No flowers, no expensive dinner.

Just the two of you - fighting, having fun and getting closer as only you can.

🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩

Valentine's Day "James Lee style"

Did you know that James Lee is not one to celebrate romantic dates? He rarely talks about feelings openly and despises any extravagance. But you decided to do something that was his face: a strategic challenge - an intense board game.

Not just any game: something that required a lot of strategy, anticipation of movements, bluff and pure intelligence.

—————

You were in a quiet apartment, low light, elegant environment, every detail impeccable - the way he likes it.

The table was ready: giant board, carefully arranged pieces, cards by hand, chess clock in the corner.

He came in, impeccable suit, serious expression, adjusted glasses, watching you as if he already knew what was to come.

- "Do you really want to do this?"

He said, the cold voice, but the tone suggested genuine curiosity.

You nodded.

- "Let's see who's smarter today."

The board became a mental battlefield.

Each of his movements was evaluated, anticipated and answered by him with almost inhuman precision.

James Lee didn't make mistakes.

He read patterns, calculated risks and seemed to know what you were going to do before you even thought.

But you had the advantage of creativity and unpredictability.

He jumped between strategies, tested bluffs, created unexpected scenarios.

His gaze narrowed - he liked the challenge.

The game was not just intelligence - it was a silent power duel.

You exchanged strategic glances, contained smiles and small provocations:

- "This move will cost you dearly."

- "Don't underestimate my plays."

With each piece captured, the tension increased.

The competition became a silent flirtation, each movement loaded with intention.

He admired his courage and cunning.

You loved to see that intense concentration, that calculating aura of his.

When the game approached the end, you were so close that your shoulders touched.

James Lee didn't need to say words - the tension, the look, the physical proximity spoke for him.

The moment you made an unexpected move and won, he took his hand to his chin, studying his movement, impressed.

And then, in a rare and intimate gesture, he leaned his face against hers, almost imperceptible:

- "You really surprise me."

Without more words, your lips met. The kiss was calculated and intense, like everything that involves James Lee - no exaggeration, but every touch loaded with meaning.

The board was left there, forgotten.

The chess clock stopped.

You were sitting side by side, panting, smiling discreetly.

James Lee didn't need to say that Valentine's Day had been good.

His look said it all: respect, appreciation and that silent connection that only you share.

No hearts, no public statements.

Just strategy, competition and intimacy, the way he likes it.

🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩

Valentine’s Day “Kitae Kim style”

Did you know that Gitae doesn't care about commemorative dates? For him, flowers, romantic dinners or sweet messages are... irrelevant.

So you decided to do something that was his face: dark, intimate and full of tension.

—————

The environment was dark, illuminated only by soft lights and shadows that danced along the walls.

The air was charged - the high temperature was not only because of the summer heat, but because of the almost silent danger that Gitae radiated.

He was there, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, impassive expression. Dark glasses had disappeared, leaving the penetrating black look completely exposed.

When your eyes met, you felt that chill down your spine, the same one you always loved and feared at the same time.

- "Do you really want to play with me like this?"

His voice was low, hoarse and dangerous, loaded with tension and contained desire.

You took a step forward.

- "Yes... the way you like it."

Gitae doesn't move fast, but when it advances, each step is calculated, precise and inevitable.

He gets close to you, so close that his smell invades your space - a mixture of sweat, strength and danger.

Your hand touches your waist lightly, pulling you closer, but not aggressively - in an intimately dominant way.

You don't need to talk.

The air loaded with tension between you is enough to communicate everything: desire, command and provocation.

Gitae slides a hand down his neck, tracing the jaw line, controlling the rhythm of proximity.

Each of his touches is slow, measured, as if he were testing his limits, savoring the reaction of every inch of his skin.

You feel his hand run down your back, pulling you even more against his body.

He tilts his head, and his lips touch yours - first just a cold and intense contact, then a deep, firm, almost imperative kiss.

The atmosphere is gloomy and loaded with adrenaline. Each of your breaths feels like a power game: he commands, you react, and together you turn the tension into pleasure.

Without haste, he alternates between subtle and possessive touches, exploring the body without losing his composure.

His touch is cold on his hands, but hot in the effect on you.

He loves to see his reaction - the balance between resistance and surrender - and it excites him in a silent, dark, deeply erotic way.

- "Never forget... I always know where you are vulnerable."

He whispers, cold and intense, but full of promise.

You stay close, time passing unimportant, the outside world disappearing.

He doesn't need sweet words; every gesture, every look and every touch says more than any declaration of love.

When they finally move away, both panting, there is a silence loaded with tension not yet dissipated.

He looks at you, impassive and intimidating as always, but with a subtle trace of satisfaction in his eyes.

- "Valentine's Day... it's not so bad when it's done my way."

You know that nothing conventional would be enough. For Gitae, romance is not flowers or chocolates - it's intense proximity, control and dark desire.

And you loved every second.

🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩🍋‍🟩

—————————————————————————

—————————————————————————

Showbu is physically provocative and dominant with you. He holds your waist to pull you back, kisses your mouth slowly while holding your hair between his fingers, lightly bites your lip and slides his hands down your thigh just to make you shiver.

He loves to lean against the wall, hold your wrists above your head and kiss your neck until you lose control. Between waist squeezes, provocative pats and long kisses, he always watches with satisfaction how much you get red - completely affected by his every touch.

—————————————————————————

Physical things he does to you:

• Holds your waist firmly when you pass by him, pulling you back just to steal a kiss.

• He trains his fingers in your hair while kissing her mouth slowly.

• He lightly bites his lower lip and then runs his thumb there, as if he were admiring the mark itself.

• Slide your hand down your thigh under your skirt, just enough to make you hold your breath.

• Squeeze your ass in surprise when you're distracted - and laugh low when you turn red.

• He leans you against the wall with his body, holding his wrists above your head while looking into your eyes.

• Kiss your neck slowly, leaving small bites that make you goosebumps all over.

• He runs his hand down your back to your waist, holding it tight as if he was afraid of you escaping.

• He sits you on his lap and keeps his hands spread around your waist and thighs, holding you there.

• Press your forehead on yours, hot breath mixing with yours before kissing you again.

• He slaps your ass provocatively when you try to leave the room before him.

• Pulls you close by the collar of your clothes and whispers something that makes your face catch fire.

• Hold your chin gently, tilting your face to kiss you deeper.

• Hugs you from behind, hiding his face in your neck, but his hands always exploring with intention.

—————————————————————————

Things he whispers in your ear:

• "You feel what I do to you, even when I don't even touch it right... don't you?"

• "She gets all goosebumps... and still tries to pretend she doesn't like it."

• "If I lower my mouth a little more... can you handle it?"

• "I love it when your body gives me before your mouth admits it."

• "You get so quiet when I get close to your neck..."

• "Look how you tremble... I haven't even started yet."

• "I could provoke you like that all night... just to hear those sighs."

• "Don't try to control yourself... I like it when you lose your balance because of me."

• "If I squeeze a little more... will you beg me to stop?"

• "Your smell changes when you get like this... did you know?"

• "You look beautiful completely surrendered."

• "Let me tag you... just to remember who makes you blush like that."

• "You say you don't want to... but your body says something else."

• "I love it when you try to be strong... and melt in my arms."

He's naughty... but he makes the most innocent face

—————————————————————————

Showbu has that kind of face that deceives.

Big eyes. Soft expression. Small smile, almost shy.

But you know.

He's not innocent at all.

✦ Things he does (and you always blush)

• Kisses your cheek by surprise... and then leaves a long kiss on the corner of your mouth.

• He leans his forehead against yours, looks into his eyes as if he were an angel... and then lightly bites his lower lip.

• Hugs you from behind, apparently needy... and slides his hand to your waist, squeezing with intention.

• He pats your ass quickly when no one is looking - and when you stare at him, he just tilts his head:

- "It was unintentional..."

• It lightly bites your shoulder when you try to get out of his arms.

• Hold your chin with two fingers, delicately... just to make you look at him while smiling in that dangerous way.

• Kiss your neck slowly... just to feel your body shiver.

• He slaps your ass lightly when you pass by him, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

• Whispers in your ear:

- "You look so beautiful when you blush like this..."

And the worst?

He always makes that sweet face afterwards.

As if I hadn't just provoked you on purpose.

—————————————————————————

- Interaction Between You

The room is quiet.

The live ended a few minutes ago. The ring light is still on, illuminating the golden glow of his hair.

You're sitting in bed, fiddling with your cell phone, pretending you didn't hear half of the things he said on the broadcast.

The door closes.

Click.

You don't even look.

- "Are you ignoring me?"

His voice comes out soft. Almost fragile.

When you look up, there he is.

Loose blonde hair. Calm face. Innocent expression.

You cross your arms.

- "You exaggerated."

He tilts his head.

- "Me?"

Two slow steps to you.

- "I only told the truth."

Before you answer, he kneels between your legs. The gesture is sudden - but the look remains sweet.

He rests his hands on your thighs.

Your heart misses a beat.

- "You look beautiful when you try to look serious."

You swallow dry.

- "Showbu..."

He approaches slowly. He touches his face to his belly for a second... as if it were just affection.

And then—

A light slap on your ass.

You get goosebumps all over.

- "SHOBU!"

He looks up, with that little smile.

- "What? It was just a pat."

You try to get up, but he holds your waist and pulls you back to bed with him.

Now he's on top.

Not heavy.

Just... dominant.

The blond hair falls on his face as he leans over.

He kisses your cheek.

Then the corner of your mouth.

Then your real mouth.

Slow.

Provocative.

When you respond to the kiss, he smiles against your lips - as if he had won.

His hand slides down your waist to your back... and then he lightly bites your lower lip.

You sigh.

He moves away just to observe.

Your face is completely red.

His eyes shine.

- "I love it when you get like this."

You turn your face, trying to regain control.

He won't let me.

Hold your chin gently.

- "Look at me."

You look.

He smiles again - that innocent expression that doesn't match anything with what he just did.

He touches his forehead to yours.

- "You know I only do it because you like it."

Another quick pat on your ass.

You hide your face on his shoulder.

He laughs low.

Satisfied.

The King of Bucheon can dominate the city.

But in that room...

He just wants to see you blush.

—————————————————————————

Showbu looks sweet and innocent, but he is provocative and full of ulterior motives with you. He loves to provoke - with long kisses, light bites and unexpected pats - always followed by that angelic little face as if he had done nothing.

After the transmissions, he approaches slowly, holds you against the bed, kisses your mouth with dominant calm and whispers how much he loves to see you blush. In the end, the dreaded King of Bucheon just wants to provoke, mark territory and see his reaction completely red in his arms.

—————————————————————————

The King of Bucheon and the "Prince"

—————————————————————————

BJ Showb x R.femele. ( Appearance of an elegant boy)

—————————————————————————

Attention: It’s not BL!!! ( y/n-girl )

—————————————————————————

Bucheon has never been a gentle city.

She revered strength. He revered power. And, above all, he revered fear.

BJ Showbu was the very symbol of this.

The King of Bucheon - feared, unpredictable, with his long braided blond hair falling like liquid gold down his back. The sweet smile that foresaded the chaos. The soft voice that promised destruction. He was a living contradiction: he seemed delicate... but he crushed men twice as big as him.

And then there was you.

Y/N.

His short hair, cut like that of an elegant boy from high society. Thin traces, too perfect to be ignored. Delicate jaw, intense eyes. Even wearing a skirt, people looked twice - confused.

- "Is it a boy?"

- "No... it's a girl."

- "But he looks like a prince..."

The nickname caught on.

Prince.

You never corrected anyone. He just raised his chin and continued walking with that naturally noble posture. The skirt swinging on her legs while her walk was firm, almost protective.

If you looked like an elegant prince...

Showbu looked like a dangerous princess.

And that's exactly why it worked.

—————————————————

When you appeared next to him for the first time, the subordinates were in shock.

The fearsome King of Bucheon... standing next to someone who seemed to come out of an aristocratic tale.

But what really left them speechless was what came after.

Showbu not only accepted his presence.

He got tan in you.

Literally.

Over time, it became common to find the King of Bucheon sitting on the improvised throne of the abandoned shed - you next to you, legs crossed elegantly - while he rested his chin on your shoulder, playing absently with the hem of your skirt.

During live broadcasts, then?

It was almost a show apart.

Showbu, looking at the camera, soft smile.

- "You see, right?" - he said with a very sweet voice.

- "My prince is only mine."

His followers went crazy in the comments.

And then he tilted his face a little, gray eyes darkening.

- "Don't look too much... or I'll get jealous."

You kept your posture impeccable. But your ears turned red. And he loved it.

- "Ah... she turned red."

- "Y/N, you look so beautiful like that..."

You looked away.

He smiled as if he had won a war.

—————————————————

It was not uncommon for subordinates to enter the room without knocking - and immediately freeze.

The King of Bucheon, the man who broke bones without hesitation...

I was clinging to you like a koala.

Long blond hair scattered over your shoulder. Legs stuck around your waist. Face hidden in your neck.

- "Don't get up..." he murmured, soft and sly voice.

- "Stay here... a little longer."

You were trying to move.

- "Showbu, I need to go."

He squeezed harder.

- "They can wait."

The subordinates closed the door in absolute silence.

No one commented.

No one dared.

Because everyone knew.

You were his anchor.

The only reason why the King of Bucheon did not sink completely into his own chaos.

——————————————————

On the battlefield, Showbu was wild.

But when his eyes met yours, there was something different.

Calm down.

You held his face after a fight, discreetly cleaning a cut on his cheek.

He closed his eyes, like a cat receiving affection.

- "Prince..." he murmured.

- "Don't abandon me."

You didn't answer.

He just leaned his forehead against his.

And that was enough.

Because, at the end of each broadcast, at the end of each fight, at the end of each night...

Showbu always ended up looking directly at you.

Never to the camera.

Never to the world.

Just for your prince.

And the whole Bucheon knew:

The King could rule the city.

But you ruled his heart.

—————————————————————————

Extra: Indecent things that Showbu says in the broadcasts - just for you

• "Prince... you know that this skirt should be considered illegal, right?"

• "They think you look like an elegant boy... but I know exactly what's underneath that noble pose."

• "Don't cross your legs like that in front of me. I get distracted... and I have a broadcast to finish."

• "Stop looking at me like that. Or I'll turn off the live right now."

• "You can all admire it... but only I can touch it."

• "Y/N, get closer to the camera... no, not like that. Only I have this privilege."

• "You get so red when I say these things... do you want me to continue?"

• "My prince seems so calm... but I know how to make you lose that composure."

• "They think I'm dangerous... they don't know that you're the one in charge of me."

• "If you keep wearing a skirt like this near me, I don't guarantee that I'll behave after the live."

• "Don't look away. Hold on. You always pretend to be strong... but you tremble when I get close."

• "Prince... you know that when I say 'stay', you stay, right?"

• "After I finish here, you'll make up for all this provocation."

• "Are you seeing this perfect face? He's mine."

• "Y/N... tell them. Say you come back to my bed every night."

—————————————————————————

Y/n was inspired by the character Yoi Takiguchi from Uruwashi no Yoi no Tsuki.

About BJ Showb I saw many rumors that he is a man! And in my opinion I agree!

—————————————————————————