It’s Better To Be Held Than Holding On

Prompt: ‘Relax. Fuck me slow. Feels better that way.’

Pairing: Han x female reader

WC: 1.2k

Warnings: explicit sexual content, penetrative sex, soft/lazy dominant han, no strings attached situ, online hookup 🔞

©️ copyright jl-micasea-fics April 2022, July 2023

You’ve never been the girl that does the one-night stand thing.

Wooyoung x FEM!reader

| non-idol au | drama/romance/smut | 18+!! |

Hiding your true feelings for your brothers best friend was something you had grown used to but when life took a turn, it came crumbling down even faster.

[WRITERS NOTE]

Akakakakakakaka so seeing Wooyoung with a kid caused this story to take a turn and he’s a daddddy!!!! Lmao stay tuned for part two!!! Enjoy xx

↳ Tinder matched and subsequently ghosted by the hot guy that lives across from you, you’re mostly resigned to singleton life, dejected and somewhat fed up. That is, until a screwed up delivery turns things around, in the most unexpected of ways.

↳ Bang Chan x female reader

↳ 10.7k

↳ Strangers to lovers, DILF/single dad Chan, neighbours au, online dating au, romance, angst with a happy ending, eventual smut

! Explicit content, adult themes, suitable for 18+ readers only !

「© August 2022, reposted May 2023 by jl-micasea-fics」

Flat 2.

As in, the accommodation between flats one and three.

As in, the residence opposite yours.

As in, the living space occupied by him.

You’d had a good day, up until this point. Work had been relatively peaceful, save for that one particularly stubborn customer that simply couldn’t grasp the concept of needing proof of purchase for a refund.

You suppose that in this moment, you know how that customer had felt. Looking down at the neatly strung brown paper parcel in your hands, you’re confused, concerned, and more than a little annoyed.

The label on the box reads, stark and clear, ‘Copper Court, Flat 2’. Yet here you are, having retrieved it from your pigeon hole; and your pigeon hole most certainly isn’t labelled ‘Flat 2’.

Your first thought is to shove the parcel in his pigeon hole, and you would, were it not already stuffed full to the brim with letters and magazines, spam leaflets from the local takeaway offering twenty percent off pizzas on a Tuesday.

A good neighbour would just take it up to Flat 2. A good neighbour would empty the pigeon hole of its current postal nightmare and take that up too, hand delivering it with a smile.

But here’s the thing.

❝𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫.❞

↳ Chapter ¼ of Something In The Rain. Inside the polished walls of Help, Heart and Justice Limited, you work under the guidance of enigmatic senior attorney Lee Minho to support him and his legal team. And perhaps under all the professionalism, feelings stray, yet you’re committed to keeping said feelings buried whilst you pine from afar. Until an act of kindness on a dark, rainy evening turns everything upside down; for even the most put together of men must indulge their demonic appetites.

↳ Lee Know x female reader

↳ 9k

↳ Supernatural au, strangers/colleagues to lovers, office romance, lust demon Lee Know, eventual smut

! Explicit content, adult themes, suitable for 18+ readers only !

「Contents List」  「© May 2023 by jl-micasea-fics」

Rainy nights are truly among your favourite things.

It seems universally known that there is something inexplicably and inherently comforting about them.

To speak personally of your own comfort, it’s sitting in a space of your own making, wrapped up in warmth while outside the elements rage. You’re far from afraid of such weather—rather, you admire the raw power of nature—yet watching the downpour from the safety of indoors brings contentment. There is separation from the chill and the wet: you’re out of reach of the unforgiving bite. When the melodic patter of heavy raindrops bears down on you, there is stillness and serenity, and what follows is catharsis.

You long for such peace in this moment, as the unforgiving rain streaks the twenty-fifth-floor windows, distorting the dark panorama of the city.

You’re no stranger to long days, thoroughly conditioned to late office hours. Indeed, where others may be inclined to gripe about such overtime requirements, you consider it an obligation, for the nature of litigation demands an overinvestment of attention. Assisting a small team of attorneys under the much larger corporate umbrella of Help, Heart and Justice Limited equates you to something of a small fish in a big pond; your efforts to reach above and beyond the outline of your role go largely unnoticed by those that swim high above, assuredly carnivorous in proclivity. And that’s fine. It’s always been fine. You work to assist the people, for the people, neither assuming nor seeking praise.

At least, that’s what you tell yourself; that your reasons for lingering at the office are chaste and noble, that your integrity is intact when you bend over backwards to accommodate the enigmatic senior attorney that heads your team. To claim your efficiency and dedication is a product of anything other than an ironclad work ethic would be incomprehensibly unprofessional, wildly slanderous, a cruel accusation.

reader x fuckboy idol!san

hard to ignore: part 1 | series masterlist genre: smut, fluff word count: 4.1k warning(s): none for this chapter

“the concert starts promptly at 7:30. make sure they’re ready by 5.”

he threw the keys in your lap, placed a folded paper on the table of your new trailer, and held out his hand. you immediately shook it.

“welcome to the team.”

you beamed proudly and nodded your head aggressively. yes, of course, they would be ready by 5, maybe even 4:30 if you got a head start. but the man proceeded to just stand in your trailer and stare you down.

“with this being your first time working with the boys,” he cleared his throat “i’m going to give a little word of advice before you head to their dressing room.”

he walked over to the couch across from where you sat at your trailer’s kitchen table, and relaxed his arm over its cusion. he stared you down once again, looking into your pupils as if he was scanning for information about you that he didn’t already know, or couldn’t find in your resume.

“there’s eight of them… and some of them are…different. don’t let them get to you.”

you tilted your head and laughed, but only a little. of course, they would each be different; they’re human, after all. why would you need to be warned about something so trivial? “what do you mean by 'different'?”

❝𝐈 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐮𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐞’𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡.❞  

↳ Do you wonder, dear reader, what it was made me the man I am? What it was made me capable of doing the things I did that fateful night in Seventh Heaven? Yes? Then come close. Get comfortable as I tell you of what came before. I dare say you’ll want to sit down. But, oh no… don’t be frightened, sweet kitten. You’re in the very best of hands.

↳ Hwang Hyunjin x OCs, first person perspective

↳ 16.3k

! Unrequited prequel spin-off story (strongly recommend you read Unrequited and Unmatched for extra context), strong language, heavy angst and tension, explicit sexual content, unreliable narrator, themes of mental illness and surrounding issues therein, psychological diagnosis, murder, stalking, gaslighting and manipulation, a very morally grey main character, strong yandere themes throughout, obsession and ownership, intrusive thoughts, this story is not for the faint of heart please heed these warnings, adult themes throughout !

「Unrequited」 「Unmatched」 「suitable for 18+ readers only」 「© March 2023 by jl-micasea-fics」

Maybe I deserve this.

Four walls and iron, isolation of the truest kind. With only these things and the banal wailing of my fellow inmates to keep me company, this is the thought I find myself aimlessly circling back to: that maybe I deserve to be here, imprisoned and stripped of everything that makes me human.

In this place, I’m no better than a stray mutt. Kept underfoot and regarded with disgust, the sum of my crimes is all I’m worth. My experiences, my desires, my dreams; all of it is cold, pale ash decorating the smouldering bonfire of destruction that is my life. It’ll never be the same now. Not even when I get out. I’m branded a criminal, a violent and unstable individual that can’t be trusted in any form of employment or with any amount of responsibility. They tell me I’m a danger to myself, to others.

To her.

It used to be that thoughts of her kept me from insanity, when I teetered precariously on the very brink of it those first few weeks after they threw me in this cage and committed me to rot. I would travel—project, perhaps—back to the moments we had together and spend listless hours in them, memorising every detail her face, every octave of her voice as it sounded both before and after the fear set in. Now, those moments only fuel my raging resentment.

I’m no fool, despite the courts’ accusations. I’m aware that the things I did lacked decorum, are frowned upon, are culturally (and apparently legally) condemnable. I am being punished for hurting another person, someone I claim to love. And that’s what they say: that I claim to love her. They tell me my claims are false, that my affections are woefully untrue and use their textbook definitions of love as justification for doing so, for we are supposed to cherish and protect those we love. Not contribute to their tumbling down a flight of stairs.

But they misunderstand. Everyone does. There’s context to be applied to everything, and that’s never more crucial than in the case of my love for her. She and I, we had something. Call it a connection, a meeting of minds. Hell, call it a fluke accident if you like, but whatever it was, it was real. I know that in my soul, as did she. My feelings manifested strongly, while hers were allowed to only flicker before they were snuffed out. Hindsight is a wonderful thing, for in it I see that Minho had assuredly clawed his way into her heart before she and I even met. Perhaps we were always doomed to fail, then.

I prefer to believe that fate gave us a chance, that I tried with everything I had to take it. Had she been strong enough to leave him, aware enough to see him for the undeserving wretch that he was, perhaps things would have been different. Perhaps I wouldn’t have been driven to entertain my compulsions.

❝𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐳𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐯𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲?❞

↳ Chapter 7/7 of The Guy Next Door. See Chapter 1 for story description.  

↳ Female reader x Hyunjin

↳ 17k

!! This fic explores themes that may distress some readers i.e. familial abuse (physical, verbal, mental), extremely strict/controlling parenting, mental illness, anxiety/depression and sexual exploitation. Please proceed with caution !!

! Final chapter, strong language, porn star au, strangers to lovers au, college au, first times au, neighbours au, porn star Hyunjin, inexperienced reader, angst and tension, heavy sexual themes throughout, frequent reference to pornography, themes of rebellion and self-discovery, adult themes throughout, a film shoot, big decisions, everyone steps up and the tripod does its thing, explicit sexual content, several sex scenes, a short time skip during the final portion of the chapter, a new home, a conclusion, and a happy fucking ending !

「suitable for 18+ readers only」  「Chapter 1」  「Contents List」  「© February 2023 by jl-micasea-fics」

The next morning, you awake feeling surreal; like a part of you has been carved out and replaced with something altogether foreign.

Waking up beside Hyunjin might have something to do with that, you suppose. It’s not every day one precedes their morning routine by admiring such a painfully gorgeous face, relaxed in deep sleep.

Loath to disturb him, you went about your washing and waking up alone and in as much peace as you could manage, stealing surreptitious glances at his slumbering form if only to confirm that you didn’t dream the entirety of yesterday and last night.

Hyunjin is your boyfriend. Your beautiful, gentle, salaciously passionate freaking boyfriend.

This is the thought that spirals endlessly as you amble into Changbin’s kitchen, somewhat surprised to see Minho and Lix already awake. They’re gathered closely on stools at the island; the elder is poised topless, lavender hair raked back off his face, thick-rimmed glasses on his nose. Inexplicably stunning. Lix is wrapped in a pastel silk kimono, hunched over a mug of something hot, her expression markedly vacant.

With an arm around her small shoulders, Minho speaks softly and inaudibly, though his tone denotes a conversation of intimate nature; one that you’re most certainly not to disturb. Yet as you back away to leave them to their own devices, the interruption of movement calls Minho’s attention. He casts you a quick glance, straightening up immediately.

“Good morning, darling,” he drawls warmly, retracting his arm from Lix’s shoulders.

“M— Morning. Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“You’re fine, come in.”

In a bid to avoid any awkwardness you suppose you can only go along with Minho’s invitation and his implication that whatever this is, it’s fine for you to be present, and so you go about making yourself a breakfast of underdone toast and overly strong coffee, doing your best to appear as insignificant as possible. All the same, they don’t resume their conversation. Rather, Lix excuses herself and leaves you alone with the other star, his gentle humming a pleasant accompaniment that inexplicably allows you to zone out, to return to thoughts of your boyfriend.

Indeed, it’s only when coating your warm bread in a third layer of butter that Lix manages to get your attention; you hadn’t even noticed her return. She waves a hand in front of your face, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“You good, honey? Seem a little out of it this morning.”

You feel you could say the same of her, her apparent change in demeanour so startling it’s more on par with what you’d expect of your blonde best friend and his drastic mood swings. Whatever Minho said to her clearly had some effect, intended or not.

“Y— Yeah, of course. I’m good,” you surrender the butter knife, grimacing at the state of your now inedible breakfast.

“Vic still sleeping?” she asks, blasé.

↳ Chapter 1 of After Lust. Han Jisung has always been sure of himself. He knows what he wants to be - a music producer. He knows where he wants to be - in the big city, away from the hometown that threatened to suffocate his dreams. He even knows where he’s going to be in five years time - right at the top of the musical food chain, living nothing but his best life. But when a chance encounter draws him into a close working relationship with a confident, devastatingly attractive choreographer, everything he knows is thrown into disarray, and he soon discovers… that some things, you simply cannot plan for.

↳ Member x member. Focused around Han Jisung and Lee Know. All members of Stray Kids included. Contains original characters.

↳ 4k

! Alternative universe, non-idol members, slice of life, modern day. Contains strong language, themes of love and romance, explicit sexual content and lots of it in many forms, angst and tension, sexuality discovery and crisis, LGBTQ themes and representation, personal growth and development, slow burn, friendship and companionship, an exploration of relationships, emotions and people, models and music and men (alt title) !

「suitable for 18+ readers only」 「Contents List」 「© December 2021 by jl-micasea-fics」

Moving to a new place is never easy.

In fact, it’s downright terrifying.

❝𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬.❞

↳ Chapter 5/7 of The Guy Next Door. See Chapter 1 for story description.  

↳ Female reader x Hyunjin

↳ 16.3k

!! This fic explores themes that may distress some readers i.e. familial abuse (physical, verbal, mental), extremely strict/controlling parenting, mental illness, anxiety/depression and sexual exploitation. Please proceed with caution !!

!Strong language porn star au, strangers to lovers au, college au, first times au, neighbours au, porn star Hyunjin, inexperienced reader, angst and tension, explicit sexual content, heavy sexual themes throughout, frequent reference to pornography, themes of rebellion and self-discovery, a Vegas pornography convention and associated sexual themes, a college party, alcohol consumption, oral sex (m. rec), fingering (f. rec), g-spot orgasm, cum swallowing, nipple play, Hyunjin is obscenely well endowed, instruction and praise, attempts at reconciliation and apologies all round, adult themes throughout !

「suitable for 18+ readers only」  「Chapter 1」  「Contents List」  「© December 2022 by jl-micasea-fics」

Vegas is a lot.

Jisung wasn’t off the mark when he said it was glitz, glamour and gratuity in spades. If anything, he was probably being modest in his description.

Everything is super-sized, blown up, sparkles and comes with a bleached white smile. It’s indulgence at its very peak, opulence and thrills galore.

Within an hour of arriving in the city, you’d managed to self-induce whiplash, for whichever way you looked there was something new to see.

Jovial street entertainers and flash mobs from nowhere, simmering food stalls vying for your attention, grandiose, multi-coloured fountains and raucous party buses, the incessant honk of traffic and the never-ending onslaught of lights, cameras, and so much action. The crowds. The atmosphere. The electric buzz in the air that speaks of something always happening, something always about to happen; if it wasn’t so utterly exhausting, you suppose you might enjoy it.

Indeed, it’s a far cry from the sheltered bubble of quiet Saint Brides.

You’re more grateful for your friends than ever, not naïve enough to pretend that it’s not thanks to them that you even managed to get where you are.

Your first time on a plane was an experience. Hadn’t even thought about the logistics of it all until you were physically sat down and strapped in. In actual fact, it was the warnings of turbulence over the intercom and the safety demonstration from the flight attendant that served to set you on pins for the entire three-hour flight; you still can’t shift the knot in your shoulders.

Indeed, it was only with Changbin’s aid that you managed to find even a modicum of relief from the anxiety in the air. His hand in yours, one of his shared earphones bleeding out a cacophony of hip hop; not your preferred choice, but the distraction was desperately welcome.

A taxi from the airport—watching Jisung try to hail one down was a comedy show in itself—straight to the hotel was straightforward enough; even if it did cost more than your entire outfit, (pilfered from Jisung), put together.

After some room service, a brief spate of unpacking, and a final attempt to call Hyunjin that went unanswered—just like all the rest—it was straight out to the streets, Google Maps in hand. Navigating the centre of Las Vegas wasn’t as difficult as you believed it would be, despite the numerous distractions along the way in the form of anything and everything. Though, in total fairness, your contribution to the excursion extended mostly to just following Changbin and trying not to get swept away in the mass of bodies.

It’s just shy of nine o’clock in the evening; the convention is surely in full swing by now. The city is on fire with neon and amber, there’s not a shadow that goes untouched. This time in Saint Brides would call for the day winding down; shops are closing, people are turning in.

Yet here? Things appear to just be getting started.

“Just around this corner,” Changbin calls over his shoulder, almost bumps into a meandering tourist.

❝𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐞?❞

↳Chapter 3/7 of The Guy Next Door. See Chapter 1 for story description.  

↳ Female reader x Hyunjin

↳13.2k

!! This fic explores themes that may distress some readers i.e. familial abuse (physical, verbal, mental), extremely strict/controlling parenting, mental illness, anxiety/depression and sexual exploitation. Please proceed with caution !!

! Strong language porn star au, strangers to lovers au, college au, first times au, neighbours au, porn star Hyunjin, inexperienced reader, angst and tension, explicit sexual content, heavy sexual themes throughout, frequent reference to pornography, themes of rebellion and self-discovery, heavy making out, clitoral stimulation, first-time orgasms, public sex, oral sex (f. rec), descriptions of pornographic videos, open discussion on abuse, descriptions of abuse, open discussions on sex and sex education, friendship support network, reference to anxiety and panic attacks, adult themes throughout!

「suitable for 18+ readers only」  「Chapter 1」  「Contents List」  「© November 2022 by jl-micasea-fics」

Hwang Hyunjin is a heaven-sent gift, you think.

This is the conclusion the last three days and two nights have brought you to, quite naturally.

Hyunjin is calm, patient, kind beyond all sense. He’s available, but never overbearing, seeming to possess some form of instinctual sixth sense in relation to the way you’re feeling at any one time. Couple all that with the very obvious—and somewhat devastating—physical appeal, you find yourself wondering what about him could possibly be wrong, for if any such flaw exists, it seems to elude you.

Indeed, you find it tragically unfair that he should be so perfect.

If nothing else, and at the very least, you suppose the time spent with him has confirmed beyond any doubt that he’s not actually a figment of your wistful imagination. He’s a very real, very present man in his own right.

Bundled up on the sofa, blanket over your lap and plush cushions at your back, you find more enjoyment in quietly admiring his stark side profile than in the film he’s chosen, playing out on the flat screen in his living room.

You’re unsure how much time must pass for something to be considered routine, but the recurring pattern of school, study, chilling and repeating certainly hasn’t been unwelcome.

You know well enough that’s only because of him.

When he’s around, peace comes effortlessly. It’s no burdensome task to surface from the whirlpool of anxious, intrusive thoughts that creep in whenever you give the reality of your circumstances the time of day:

You’re too close to home, they’ll see you. You’ll have to go back eventually. You can’t stay with him forever. You’re a burden. He just feels sorry for you. Your friends hate you for this. You have to text them back. You can’t keep avoiding them. You miss them. You’re a terrible person. They were just trying to help.

When alone, the cacophony drowns you, creeps up from the depths of your content and brings with it a momentary wave of ice that stills your heart with dread, brings you to a cool sweat. Breaths come lacking, too pitifully shallow to allow a calming lungful of oxygen, and with that, comes the inevitable panic.

Always, it’s Hyunjin that brings you back. A simple touch, an embrace, a tender skim of lips over forehead all that’s needed to return you to the moment, where you’re safe. Where you’re okay.

Still, you know this can’t continue for much longer; you’re not naïve to that fact. But for now, perhaps it’s not so foolish to enjoy it.

“You’re not watching this, are you?”

Hyunjin’s muttered question brings a dose of reality, but doesn’t startle. It’s gentle, soft, much like everything else about him.

“I went to all the trouble of picking out a film just for you,” he mumbles, “and you’re not even watching it.”

You smile absently, shrugging in your slumped position at his side. Amongst cardboard boxes and packing apparatus, the sofa comfortable beneath you, it’s a unique kind of contentment you’re used to now. One that doesn’t revolve around isolation or trust in yourself, but that shares in the warmth of another.

Your head falls back to the cushions, “I was watching. Just got distracted.”

“Oh? By what?”

❝𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐳𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲?❞

↳ Chapter 2/7 of The Guy Next Door. See Chapter 1 for story description.   

↳ Female reader x Hyunjin

↳ 13.4k

!! This fic explores themes that may distress some readers i.e. familial abuse (physical, verbal, mental), extremely strict/controlling parenting, mental illness, anxiety/depression and sexual exploitation. Please proceed with caution !!

! Strong language porn star au, strangers to lovers au, college au, first times au, neighbours au, porn star Hyunjin, inexperienced reader, angst and tension, explicit sexual content, heavy sexual themes throughout, frequent reference to pornography, themes of rebellion and self-discovery, violence and physical abuse, descriptions of injury, mental strain, an escape, a panic attack, a first kiss, a heavy make-out session, heavy sexual tension breaking of minor laws, adult themes throughout !

「suitable for 18+ readers only」 「Chapter 1」  「Contents List」  「© October 2022 by jl-micasea-fics」

Ten thirty on a weekday, and Sabrina’s is quiet.

As it should be, you suppose.

The tourists have called their excursions a night, the students are winding down for yet more of the same tomorrow. Save for a few tables at the rear of the café host to a couple and an elderly local, there’s nobody around.

The look that Sabrina herself gives as you enter is one of equal parts confusion and awe; confusion on your presence—you’re never here past nine—and awe on your company. You can hardly blame her; it’s not every day one crosses paths with someone like Hyunjin. Not every lifetime.

“Well, hello there you two,” she drawls warmly from behind the counter she’s polishing. “Come on in, makes yourselves right at home.”

“Thanks Sab,” you smile, hoping the lingering side-eye you give her warns of best behaviour.

You head for the usual window booth and slide in, silently noting—with some amusement—how hyped Jisung’s going to be when you tell him who sat in his seat the last time you were here.

Hyunjin settles in comfortably, looks around the café in bemusement. He’s probably unimpressed by the eccentrically worn interior, but if he wanted something fancier, he shouldn’t have left it to you.

You grab a stiff, plastic-bound menu from the stand, slide it over the table towards him.

“You’re not having anything?” he asks as he picks it up, turns it over.

“I’m not hungry,” you shrug.

Hyunjin frowns, tuts under his breath, “But you didn’t eat dinner.”

“… How did you­—”

“What can I get you kids?” Sabrina suddenly trills, thumping down two glasses of cloudy, ice-cold lemonade.

“We’ll take two grilled cheeses’, please,” Hyunjin answers at once. “And some coffee, if that’s okay? Black?”

Sabrina hums in understanding, flashes you a wink and toddles away, already calling out the order to the kitchen. You grab the glass of lemonade just for something to do with your hands, enjoying the cool against your clammy skin; seem to have been running a permanent fever since meeting Hyunjin.

“So,” Hyunjin sighs, leaning back in the booth seat. “Saint Brides University, huh?”

You nod awkwardly, at total unrest with the attention. Honestly figured that he’d just want a little slice of revenge after your peeping session and the two of you would part ways after whatever humiliation he deigned to unleash, never to speak again. This certainly doesn’t feel like a vengeful excursion.

“What are you studying?” he asks.

“N— Nothing special. It’s boring, really. I— I mean, it’s not boring, of course, I don’t think it is, but you probably would—”

“Try me.”

❝𝐃𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐰?❞

↳ Chapter 1/7 of The Guy Next Door. You’ve lived in the sleepy seaside city of Saint Brides forever, despite dreams of escape and something bigger. Resigned to routine, mundanity and with rapidly diminishing dreams for the future under the strict control of life at home, you no longer remember what joy feels like; if needed, you ever knew. That is, however, until an enigmatic young man moves in next door and spins your world on its axis. In this story of firsts, experience friendship, romance, self-discovery and courage; even when things are not as they seem. Based on The Girl Next Door (2004).

↳ Female reader x Hyunjin

↳ 12.6k

!! This fic explores themes that may distress some readers i.e. familial abuse (physical, verbal, mental), extremely strict/controlling parenting, mental illness, anxiety/depression and sexual exploitation. Please proceed with caution !!

! Strong language porn star au, strangers to lovers au, college au, first times au, neighbours au, porn star Hyunjin, inexperienced reader, angst and tension, explicit sexual content, heavy sexual themes throughout, frequent reference to pornography, themes of rebellion and self-discovery, adult themes throughout !

「suitable for 18+ readers only」  「Contents List」  「© October 2022 by jl-micasea-fics」

“In everything, satiety closely follows the greatest pleasures” - Marcus Tullius Cicero

“Mhm, sure Marcus.”

It’s not that you don’t believe he’s probably right. Indeed, most are inclined to chomp on the pearls of wisdom from the famous Roman orator; a man that lived so many centuries ago who appears to possess a more informed grip on life than you suppose you ever will.

All the same, your begrudging mumble rather encapsulates your inability to relate to the ancient sentiment in any way.

Thumb to the next page of the classical history textbook, scan down the paragraphs and over cramped font, barely absorbing Cicero’s autobiographical information. Twirl your favourite biro between your fingers, chin propped lazily in the palm of your hand, wondering if all these hours of study have yielded anything other than the beginning pulses of a headache.

You’ve never particularly enjoyed this part of studying; the gratuitous reading, committing to memory a multitude of chronological historical events that jumble haphazardly until you can—with relative ease under pressure—single one from another.

It’s the juicier parts of classical history that piqued your interest back in high school, that subsequently determined your route of higher education. The betrayal, the political turmoil, the deceit and the drama; all of it read like a soap opera from antiquity, where law was flexible at best and the end almost always justified the questionable, bloody means.

Understand why others might perceive it mundanely, yet you never have. Those people, you surmise, just don’t know what they’re missing, are unaware of the joys of getting to know historical icons, coming to understand them, discovering how they shaped the course of civilisation and ultimately met their untimely, (usually grisly), ends.

It’s a niche sort of joy, you’ll admit, but a joy all the same. And you’ll take those wherever you can find them.

Scrawl out another quote between the stark lines of your new notepad—because fresh, clean stationary is the only healthy way to stimulate the intellectual juices—your flow is interrupted by the heavy vibration of phone against wood. There’s a text message that reads:

>> is there a reason you’re not at Changbin’s rn

Your heart sinks; you knew this was coming. Turning down Changbin’s offer of movie night at his place was never going to go down well with Jisung, fluttering socialite that he is. Not that you had any say in the decision itself.

<< studying

Send the blunt reply, eye roll at the near instantaneous response:

>> again

>> is there a reason you’re not here

This text, you decide, doesn’t warrant your coming back to him, and so you shove your phone aside, face down on the desk; only for it to start ringing after several minutes. Debate not answering it, and wouldn’t if Jisung’s mammoth persistence weren’t a factor. But it is, and so you must.

“Hello?”

“Don’t leave me on read, bitch.”

↳ Tinder matched and subsequently ghosted by the hot guy that lives across from you, you’re mostly resigned to singleton life, dejected and somewhat fed up. That is, until a screwed up delivery turns things around, in the most unexpected of ways.

↳ Female reader x Bang Chan

↳ 10.7k

! Strong language, angst and tension, DILF Chan, single dad Chan, neighbours au, explicit sexual content, dirty talk, a major size kink, Chan has a concerningly massive cock, explicitly unprotected sex, creampie, soft dominant Chan, praise and instruction, body worship, themes of single parenthood, brief references to illness, miscommunication quickly resolved, adult themes throughout !

「suitable for 18+ readers only」  「© August 2022 by jl-micasea-fics」

Flat 2.

As in, the accommodation between flats one and three.

As in, the residence opposite yours.

As in, the living space occupied by him.

You’d had a good day, up until this point. Work had been relatively peaceful, save for that one particularly stubborn customer that simply couldn’t grasp the concept of needing proof of purchase for a refund.

You suppose that in this moment, you know how that customer had felt. Looking down at the neatly strung brown paper parcel in your hands, you’re confused, concerned, and more than a little annoyed.

The label on the box reads, stark and clear, ‘Copper Court, Flat 2’. Yet here you are, having retrieved it from your pigeon hole; and your pigeon hole most certainly isn’t labelled ‘Flat 2’.

Your first thought is to shove the parcel in his pigeon hole, and you would, were it not already stuffed full to the brim with letters and magazines, spam leaflets from the local takeaway offering twenty percent off pizzas on a Tuesday.

A good neighbour would just take it up to Flat 2. A good neighbour would empty the pigeon hole of its current postal nightmare and take that up too, hand delivering it with a smile.

But here’s the thing.

You’ve been making an active point of avoiding the guy from Flat 2. Whether it’s leaving ten minutes earlier for work or opting to take the stairs to the third floor rather than risking inescapable metal confinement via the elevator, the sudden decline in your once frequent run-ins is no accident.

And really, you don’t think you can be blamed for that. If someone had told you three weeks ago that you’d be inexplicably Tinder matched with the guy living opposite you, only to be stood up on the night of your first date and subsequently ghosted, you’d be loath to believe them.

But that’s exactly what happened.

❝𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞…❞

↳Part 10/10 of Loveless. See Part 1 for story description.

↳Female reader x Changbin, female reader x Hyunjin

↳ 13.4k

! Strong language, explicit sexual content, heavy angst and tension, arranged marriage au, soulmates au, confrontation, heavy threat throughout, violence and gore, murder, a rescue, infiltration, descriptions of medical paraphernalia and procedures, pseudo-science, plot dump, many revelations, themes of capital punishment, a time skip, adult themes throughout, final chapter !

「Part 1」  「Contents List」 「Masterlist」「© August 2022 by jl-micasea-fics」

Changbin spends the night alone.

He gets no sleep; doesn’t even try to.

From the moment the bedroom door locked at ten sharp, from the second it released with the fair morning light, Changbin found only restless unease. Trapped in the confines of a room he should be sharing with her; it was all he could do to maintain a shred of sanity by convincing himself that whatever was happening to her—whatever might have already happened—was fixable.

This morning, he feels distinctly different.

The heaviness settled in his gut alludes to a truth more terrible than he feels he can comprehend, and he knows, beyond any shred of doubt, that he’s had a part to play in this. How big a part remains to be seen, but he supposes the scale of it hardly matters when, either way, she’s suffered some form of consequence for the events of the last few days.

He showers quickly, barely feels the scalding water on his skin. Black turtleneck and fitted slacks thrown on, he leaves the bedroom with purpose in his step, determination centred around several things, though his first port of call is arguably the most urgent.

The old house is quiet; the others must have yet to rise. The kitchen is untouched, dining room reset for the breakfast that’ll no doubt be laid in an hour or so. He briefly recalls that Chan and Eve are leaving this morning; he’s glad to have met them, in the end.

Changbin’s footsteps wrack the creaky boards beneath his feet, the usual warmth of the walls and décor seems foreign to him now, as he hurriedly descends the three floors down to the ground level.

Standing outside Matron’s office, Changbin shakes off the nerves, takes a steadying breath. He’s an Imperator, he reminds himself. He doesn’t get nervous, doesn’t get intimidated, is sure of himself at all times. No matter how frantic he feels inside, composure is the name of the game.

There’s no point speculating as to what’s happened; he’ll only drive himself mad doing that. He needs solid facts.

Knocking on the door, Changbin doesn’t wait to let himself in. Rude to enter uninvited, he knows, but he doesn’t have the time to hang around.

He’s surprised to find it unlocked. The door creaks open gently, there’s no sound from inside. Peeking his head around the frame, the office is unlit, the large bay windows closed and latched, thick curtains drawn over the quaint garden scene that Changbin knows sits just beyond. Matron is nowhere to be seen.

He should probably come back later, he supposes, but how much later is later? In an hour? Two hours? Six?

No. Changbin can’t afford to wait that long, or any longer than he already has.

Word Count: 10k

Warning: afab!reader, common flu and symptoms mentioned, safeword mention (though not used), food and alcohol mentioned, mention of fwb relationship, slight food play, slight quirofilia (hand kink), slight cruophilia (thigh kink), slight strength kink, slight voyeurism, smut, fingering (f.receiving), oral (m. and f.receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), dirty talking, mutual masturbation, anal play, threesome- F/M/M, double penetration, some intimate actions during dinner, established relationships (reader is fwb! with Chan), dom!Chan, dom!Minho, switch!reader

Synopsis: After feeling rather sick week, Chan figures out the best way to cheer you up is with some classic romance…and Minho?

A/N: This was not proofread but please enjoy regardless. I really hope that the tags are working for this one because I really enjoyed writing this. Thank you to @skzseasons​ for hosting this event! This is for !S week with dom!skz

summary: sequel to room for three - a year has passed, and things are going well, until yunho watches watches another man flirt with you.

note: 18+ content, minors DNI. // i just can't stop thinking about husband yunhwa, so please have this absolute smutty and fluffy brain rot.

warnings: non idol!yunho, non idol!seonghwa, fem!reader, established yunhwa relationship, mmf, jealous!yunho, rough sex, oral (f receiving), oral (m receiving), rough oral, praise, gratuitous use of good girl, mean!yunho, double penetration, the return of the cute husbands - please let me know if i missed any.

pairings: yunho x seonghwa x reader

genre: smut, angst, fluff

word count: 12.3K

my masterlist 

Hongjoong x fem!reader 

     Genre: Sugar daddy au; Boss Hongjoong; Ex crime syndicate Hongjoong; 

angst; fluff; smut

     Word count: 22k (I am very so sorry lmao)

     Summary: When your boss offers you alternative employment, you’re sceptical. However, as you grow closer to him you realise his money and riches aren't the only thing attracting you to him, especially when you find out about his mysterious past. 

      Warnings: Language, Violence, Guns and blood, Explicit sexual content, near death experiences. 

       Author's note: This is my first uploaded fic, so please be gentle, it’s my baby LMAO. Enjoy!

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   It was difficult work being a female bartender, and this fact was proven every time there was a rush night. You worked in a rather popular luxurious night club in downtown Seoul, and the influx of male clientele this particular night has you wishing you’d chosen literally any other career path. It was a nice club, but apparently the opulence failed to dull the vulgarity that festered in the minds of the wealthy men. It was times like these, among many others, that made it difficult to bartend for alcoholic rich douchebags.  

  You couldn't complain too much, you loved bartending and it put a roof over your head. You just wished their attention could be turned elsewhere. 

  After several incidents of men getting too grabby when you were passing them their drinks, you’re positively worn out. The club is still fairly full despite nearing closing time, men in luxurious suits and women in tight, short dresses that were most likely worth more than your yearly rent. They’re scattered, nursing their drinks either in booths or on the floor, and you’re thankful that you have a moment to breathe.

  A sigh leaves your mouth as you scrub a particularly stubborn spot on the counter, a furrow in your brow and condensation forming on your hairline from the exertion.

  “What’s got my best bartender's mood down? Where’s that smile I love so much?” A sultry, silky dulcet timbre snaps you from your cleaning. Looking to the source, you find your boss, Hongjoong, standing confidently with a hand running through his perfectly kempt honey brown locks just in front of the counter. The screech of a barstool is heard, and he situates himself comfortably in the seat directly in front of the spot you were cleaning. You’re so enamoured by the sight of his seemingly ethereal aura, that you almost forget to acknowledge his presence.

  “Hi, boss. What can I do for you? Whiskey on the rocks like usual?” You question hurriedly, wiping the sweat off your brow and plastering a small smile on your lips. The rag is deposited quickly below the counter, and you fix your shirt which has begun to come untucked slightly. You look frazzled, exhausted, and you’re trying your best not to let him see you looking a mess. It’d be bad for the clientele. 

  He smiles, a thousand dollar smile shining brightly and your heart throbs at the sight. Hongjoong is handsome, to put it plainly. He was dirty rich, and his appearance reflected it. You’d never seen him look unkempt, always wrapped in the most expensive looking silk suits, diamonds and jewels lining each of his fingers, as well as his ears. He kept his hair relatively long for a man, but never unruly. His nails were always painted as well, though the colour varied. You noticed when they were red however, he was especially flirty with his words. The man looked positively regal at all times, and you often found it difficult to rid your stomach of the butterflies when he was in your vicinity. Now, there was a lot more to the man than just his looks, he was also intelligent and a great conversationalist, and that was only scratching the surface of his qualities. The man knew words. Perhaps too well, sometimes. 

  “I don’t need a thing, love. Just a few moments in your presence and I'll be all set.” He winks, and you flush. 

  “Now, tell me. What’s got you stressed, baby? You know I don’t like it when you’re down.” His voice sends a shiver up your spine, the pet words doing well to strip the moisture from your mouth. He used them with everyone, but that fact didn’t stop you from relishing in the way they rolled off his tongue dangerously.

 With your smile slightly faltering you shake your head. “I’m okay, sir! This spot’s just bothering me.” You let the lie slip easily, gesturing to the spot on the counter. Hongjoong clicks his tongue at your blatant lie.   “Mm, don’t lie, doesn’t suit you. Someone in here bothering you?” His tone is suddenly serious and it has your eyes drifting to meet his own. The way he’s looking is dark, and his focus is entirely on every twitch of a muscle in your expression. Curse the way he could read people.

  You clear your throat and shake your head gently. “Not any more than they usually are.” You whisper and he nods slowly. His brows furrow.  

  “If you ever feel unsafe, tell me. Your safety is the top priority here. I’ll have them taken care of immediately.” He says earnestly, to which your back straightens and you respond with an honest nod.

  “Okay, sir.” His lips twitch at your reply.

“Call me Hongjoong, doll. How many times have I asked you?” He breaks the previous serious tone with an amused smile and you flush. Despite the numerous requests, you couldn’t bring yourself to address him informally. The man wrote your checks, as well as thousands of others. He owned over half of the clubs in Seoul alone, so, your respect was immeasurable when it came to him.

  “Quite a few times, sir.” You reply, a small smile gracing your lips. Hongjoong mirrors your smile, and shakes his head in amusement. 

  “Never doing as you’re told.” The words leave his lips in a sigh, laced with a teasing tone. “Need to learn to behave.” He winks, and the action has a warmth flooding your gut, as well as your cheeks. He secretly relished in the way you seemed to fluster in his presence. It was addicting to him, your reactions. A breathy laugh leaves your lips, and you avert your gaze to his fingers, which were toying with the rings adorning them.

 A vibration from his cell phone interrupts the two of you, and he checks the screen just briefly. Any trace of amusement vanishes from his features, replaced quickly with annoyance. He rises, runs a hand through his hair, and sighs. “I need to get back to work, but it was a pleasure being in your company. As always. Let Wooyoung know if you need me, he has a direct line.” You nod quickly. “Yes, sir” He smiles distantly, nods in a goodbye, and disappears to wherever he was needed.

  You let yourself sigh, disappointed that the playful presence was gone so soon, and you return to attempting to scrub the spot off the counter. Wooyoung, the co-owner and Hongjoongs best friend, was usually in the back room rummaging through various stacks of papers, but he’d chosen to lose himself in the crowd, entertaining the club-goers the best way he knew how. Being one of them. 

  The spot finally buffs out, you release a huff and throw your head back. Looking at the clock on the wall behind the booze rack, the neon digits flash an annoying 2:17 am. The club closes in just under an hour, so you decide to busy yourself until then. 

  A man in a navy suit sits himself at the bar, gesturing you over lazily, limbs loose with the very obvious signs of intoxication. You’d served him many times previously, so you recognized him as one of the ones who preferred being particularly handsy. He slurs out an order, a vodka, neat. You’re apprehensive, the man is obviously over his limit, so you deny his order and offer water instead, hinting that he needed to sober up. 

  “Stupid woman, if I wan’ed water I would have ordered that.” He barks, volume raising irritatedly and you bite your cheek in annoyance. 

  “I’m sorry, sir but you’re over your limit. I’m not permitted to serve you anything else.” You keep your voice strong, the robotic speech you’re required to give anytime someone exceeds their limit seems to only aggravate the man further.

  “Incompetent bitch. Learn your fucking place and give me my drink!” He bellows, attracting the attention of a few people nearby. He stands abruptly, knocking the stool over and despite a counter being in between the two of you, your heart starts to thud at the height difference he has over you. 

  “Sir please calm down or i’ll have to ask you to leave.” Annoyance and intimidation flow through your body. You didn’t sign up for this shit.

  He grabs an empty glass from behind the counter and hurls it at you with a grunt, but luckily his aim is impaired and it shatters about a foot from your head, but it has you yelping and covering your face in fear nonetheless. 

  “Wooyoung!” You yell, attempting to alert the man in the crowd, and when he doesn’t show up immediately,  you curse the day he was born. The man luckily loses his footing and tumbles to the ground, face first and simply curls into himself. He doesn’t get up, and you realize he’s passed out.

  “Oh for fucks sake.” You growl. 

Wooyoung walks quickly to the bar, and notices your pinched expression, the shattered glass, and the man on the floor. He curses. “Sorry, y/n. You hurt?” He asks, breathless before alerting one of the security staff with a text to collect the man and escort him out. You sigh when you feel a sharp pain in your left arm, turning it to see a small cut from where the glass ricocheted. “No, just a small nick. Can I close for a second while I clean this?” You ask, untying your apron.

  He nods, “Of course, you can close for the night if you want. Half of these people are well over their limit anyway.” He scoffs before typing away at his phone. 

  “Okay. Thank you.” You sigh and throw your apron under the cabinet. You step over the glass, into the back room. The cut stings as you clean it, applying a bandaid and sighing. Fatigue settles itself into your bones, feeling the effects of working a long shift with these stuffy, rich assholes. You bury your head in your hands and inhale deeply, happy to be off your shift at the very least. The thought of going to your apartment and relaxing allows your muscles to release a fraction.

  You hear a knock on the open door and a head darts to the source of the sound. You spot your boss standing there, a displeased expression etched onto his features. You bow respectfully. “Hi, sir.” 

  He nods. “Are you alright? Saw you weren’t at the bar and there was some broken glass.” He asked, searching your body for any evident signs of injury. You nod. “I’m okay. Just a small scratch from the shattered glass. But I already cleaned it…” You reply with a vague gesture to your arm, voice quiet and calm. 

  “You were hurt?” He asks, expression suddenly demanding and your head spins at the change in his demeanour. 

  “Uh…yes sir. Some man was drunk and I couldn’t serve him anymore, so he got mad, he was wearing a navy suit. The debit card on his tab said Sam Lee, if that means anything.” You wrack your brain for details, but those are the only two you seem to remember, however it’s obviously more than enough for Hongjoong. 

  His eyes flash with anger. “Sam Lee.” Thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighs. “I’m sorry, doll. He’s not allowed here. I don’t know how he even got in. This won’t happen again, I’ll make sure of it.” The edge in his voice unsettles you slightly, for you were accustomed to his friendly, flirty words. But you could understand. It didn’t look good for his club if some drunk asshole was causing trouble. 

  “That’s okay, sir. Don’t worry too much.” Your soft voice rings through the otherwise quiet room. 

Hongjoong nodded with a sigh. “How are you getting home?” He inquires. You frown. You usually take the bus home, but since you’d have to stay behind slightly later than usual to clean the glass and otherwise, you’re sure no buses are going to be running this late. 

  “I usually take the bus, sir.” You reply. Even if you weren’t sure that you’d be able to, you could find another mode of transportation. If worse came to worse you could always walk. 

  “The bus? This late at night, by yourself?” He asks incredulously, to which you simply nod, indifferent.

 Hongjoong seems to dislike the idea, however.

With a slight shake to his head, he began, “Not going to happen. There are far too many slimy men just waiting to get their hands on someone like you. I’ll have one of my drivers take you home.” With that he slides his sleek, no doubt expensive phone out of his pocket and taps the screen a few times.

  You stutter, embarrassed at the idea, but mostly impressed that this man has personal drivers. You shouldn’t be shocked, he had everything. “Sir, that's not necessary! I can find another way home, you don’t have to do that!” You scramble to stop him from ordering one of his drivers to pick you up, but he simply shushes you with a raised hand. 

  “It's my responsibility to make sure my employees are safe, and the bus is anything but safe, love. From now on my driver Jaehyun or myself will be driving you to and from work. Alright?” The words make you nervous, a slight sternness to them, to which you straighten and nod and sigh.

  “I still have to clean up here, sir…” Your voice is small, overwhelmed with his words.

“No, you don’t. Wooyoung gets to do that since his ass wasn’t there to help you from that shithead in the first place.” He smiles, and you groan. There was absolutely no arguing with this man.

  “Get your stuff, Jaehyun is waiting for us just outside.” You nod and begin to gather your bag and coat, but you halt as his words register.

  “Um, us sir?” The question has his lips curling into a smirk. 

  “Well you didn’t expect me to just leave you alone did you?”

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  The drive home is uncomfortable, as you find yourself sat adjacent to your boss in the backseat of a Rolls Royce. You feel unworthy of even breathing near a car this expensive, let alone sitting in the backseat of it. It’s difficult to relax, and Hongjoong can sense your discomfort. So, he decides to inquire about your life as a distraction.

  “So who do you have waiting for you at home, love?” The melodic sound of his voice is a welcome distraction from the stuffiness of the car, and you smile.

  “My cat, Milo. He’s fat and lazy and I love him with my whole soul.” A grin finds its way onto your face when you mention your baby, and you light up. It has Hongjoong addicted to the sight of you smiling, as if he wasn’t already before. The insinuation that you’re single, failing to mention a significant other had Hongjoong smirking to himself.

  “Parents?” He questions, and he regrets it immediately when the smile on your face slowly melts into a small, sad one.

  You clear your throat. “Uh, no sir. My father died of cancer when I was nineteen and my mom was never really in the picture. Just me and Milo.” You nod as you finish explaining. It made you sad to talk about your father. Despite him passing five years previously, it’s still a sore spot in your heart and you could never talk about him without getting choked.

  “I’m sorry, doll. Forgive me for asking.” The way your eyes become glassy has him kicking himself mentally.

  “That’s okay, sir, you didn’t know.” The kindness of your voice warms him and he never wants you to feel sadness again, he decides. It didn’t suit you.

  The car pulls to a stop, and you assume you’ve arrived at your apartment. It was a humble flat on the outskirts of Seoul, and you absolutely adored it, despite it not being anything flashy. You unbuckle your belt and begin to raise your hand to open the door, but Hongjoong halts your movements by resting his palm on your shoulder. 

  “Just a moment, honey. Jaehyun?” Hongjoong motions something to the Jaehyun, to which the man nods and exits the vehicle swiftly. Your brows furrow.

  “What’s he doing?” 

  He smiles reassuringly. “Just making sure it’s safe.” Why wouldn’t it be safe? It’s just your home… When Jaehyun confirms the area is safe with a swift nod outside the window aimed in Hongjoong’s direction, his hand opens your door from the outside and gestures that it’s alright for you to exit the car. You do so, grabbing your bag on the way out and slinging it around your shoulder. Hongjoong steps out as well, and you’re once again confused. 

  “I’ll walk you up, come on.” He splays a hand across your lower back and nudges you forward. The walk to your door is short, but Hongjoong stays with you every step. 

  You clear your throat as you approach your door. You briefly wonder if this is appropriate, if he did this for all his employees at some point. 

  “Thank you, sir.” The words are whispered and you wish you sounded more confident. Suddenly, however, you feel vulnerable. Your boss is at your home, of course, just on the outside but it feels weird all the same. He was so polite and it made your heart clench, it was unheard of in this grimy town.

  “No need to thank me, doll. Get some rest. Sweet dreams.” He winks with a small smile, before turning and walking back to the parked vehicle and your breath halts in your throat at the words. 

  You quickly unlock your door with a flush creeping its way up your neck, and dump your bag at the table near the entrance. Milo lets out a mew at the sound of you, and trots into the foyer. 

  “Hi baby.” You crouch to be level with the fluff ball, scratching under his chin to which he leans into your palm. “Weird day, huh?” A yawn leaves your lips, and you stand, stretching your knotted muscles.

  After filling Milo’s bowls, showering, changing into your night clothes, and eating a much needed dinner, you’re nestled comfortably under your duvet. Sleep comes easy, with your fur ball nestled comfortably in your side, you dream of honey brown hair and lavish jewels. 

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  “Good evening, Miss y/n.” Jaehyun greets you when you walk down the front entrance of your flat the next day. You halt, not expecting the man to be standing there outside the Rolls Royce from last night. A sigh leaves you, so he wasn’t kidding when he said no more bus rides.

  “Hello, Jaehyun.” He opens the backseat door for you, and you can't help but feel a little disappointed when you find it to be vacant. Hongjoong was most likely at the club already. 

  The drive is smooth, so smooth that you find yourself dozing off a few times before the car pulls into the lot of the familiar neon lit club half an hour later. When the car rolls to a stop in front of the employee entrance, Jaehyun steps out of the vehicle to open your door for you. You bow your head in gratitude, before stepping out of the vehicle yourself. The heels adorning your feet click along the concrete as you carry yourself through the entrance and to the backroom to get prepared for your shift. 

  The door opens abruptly, pulling your attention away from the apron you’re currently tying around your waist. You spot Wooyoung walking through the door, and he grins when he spots you. “Hi, y/n! Oh…sorry about yesterday, Joong chewed my ass after you went home.” He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck.

  “Yeah, you prick. Was scared shitless back there.” You chuckle teasingly and he groans. 

  “That man wasn’t even allowed in here. Dunno how he got in…” His brows furrow, as do yours, but for different reasons.

  “Boss said the same thing. What does that mean? Why isn’t he allowed in here?” You finish tying off the apron, and lean against the desk that sat in the middle of the employee room. Wooyoung shakes his head annoyedly.

  “He’s just some ex-business partner, a dirty liar too. Real sleazy type of fucker, fucked over Joong real bad a few years back.” He shrugs, cryptic words echoing in your head. His hands busy themselves unwrapping a loli he fished from his pocket, before popping it in his mouth.

  “He used to work for boss Hongjoong? Did he work at one of the clubs or something?” You question, and you know you sound nosey. But you didn’t know much about your boss despite working for him for three years. So, you couldn’t help your curiosity.

  Wooyoung smirks around the candy, before responding. “Something like that. Anyways, better get out there, princess. Other bartender already left. See you later!” He calls over his shoulder when he turns to leave the room, and he’s gone before you can yell a response back. 

  With a roll of your eyes, you walk out of the employee door to the area behind the bar, and begin preparing the orders queued up on a small tablet screen for the bus lady to serve to patrons in the booths. 

  There aren’t many, which surprises you considering it’s the height of business hours, but you don’t complain, it’s less work for you anyway. The two orders are simple, a whiskey sour and a gin and tonic, so it takes you all of five minutes to plate them and hand them to the bus lady. The glasses are whisked away, and you’re left standing idle behind the counter, so you decide to make use of your time and reorganise the bottles of liquor so that they’re all labels faced forward.

  In the midst of your compulsive reorganising, a voice snaps you from the task. 

  “Don Julio’s a bit off centre.” The voice belongs to a very amused Hongjoong, sitting at the bar with his arms folded on the counter, wearing an entertained smirk and mirth filled eyes. He’s wearing makeup today, which he did on occasion, a simple smoked out waterline and it has his eyes looking deeper than usual.

  You chuckled shyly, before adjusting the Don Julio bottle a little to the left, lining perfectly with its neighbours. “Thank you.” 

  Hongjoong’s eyes follow you as you reach for the lavish bottle of whiskey that was typically reserved for the boss himself, and begin fixing his typical order. His lip twitches.

  “A little more ice, baby.” His voice is gentle, and you obey immediately, plopping just two more ice blocks into his glass and placing it in front of his awaiting hands. The ruby encrusted bands on his pinkies glimmering in the dim lighting of the bar, your eyes enamored with the way they glint. 

  “There you go, sir.” You smile and he mirrors it with a pleased sigh.

  “So good to me. Get to work okay?” Hongjoong questioned, bringing the glass to his mouth and gazing at you over the rim. 

  “Mhm, thank you, sir. Feels a little strange, though. I’m used to borderline sitting on laps in the dingy bus, not having a whole Rolls Royce to myself.” You reply, bashful. Your words make Hongjoong chuckle. 

  “Hmm. You don’t like it? I could order the Bugatti instead if that better suits your taste.” He replies in amusement and it has you scrambling to shake your head. God, just how rich was this man?

  “No! The current is fine, more than in fact.” 

  Hongjoong hums with a satisfied nod before reaching behind him into the back pocket of his midnight black silk suit, pulling out a Bottega wallet, and your previous question is answered. He fishes out a few bills, and motions for you to accept them with your hand.

  “Oh, sir, your drinks are always free, no need to pay.” You shake your head, denying the payment but instead of retracting his hand, he surges his hand forward and forces the bills into your hand, insisting you take them.

  “They’re not for the drinks, love. Take it, you work hard, I'm simply rewarding my best employee.” 

  Your stomach drops when you look at your hands, seeing that he just casually gifted you One grand in cash. That was enough for your monthly rent, and perhaps a small shopping spree on one of your favourite online boutiques, thus you gawk in disbelief. 

  “I shouldn’t sir…this is way too much…” You move your hand to return the bills to your boss, and he huffs impatiently.

  “No such thing. Put it in your pocket.” His commanding tone has your back straightening, and you stuff the bills into your back pocket obediently. Hongjoong nods, pleased.

  “Good girl, wasn’t so hard, hm?” His tone is low, so low that it has a heat inching its way up your chest, and you meet his hooded eyes in a wide eyed stare. Although, you can’t maintain the contact too long before you’re looking away. You notice his glass is now low, so you grasp it and refill quickly, escaping the heat of his gaze. When you set it down, his fingers brush yours as he collects it in his grasp. He swirls it around, ice clinking.

  “Any plans for after work?” He questions, toying with the gold ring on his index finger, and you notice his red painted nails against the moistened glass. 

  You shake your head. “Nothing exciting. I’ll probably just curl up on the couch with Milo.” An order dings on the tablet screen, a martini, and you turn to begin preparing the order, feeling his eyes on you as you do so.

  A hum leaves Hongjoong’s lips, but he otherwise doesn’t respond. Only watches simply as you shake the martini shaker, hair falling into your eyes and the button on your top slowly loosening to reveal a sliver of a nude bra. He thinks you look breathtaking.

  You pour the liquid into the glass, adding two olives and plating it for the bus lady to grab. When you return to continue your conversation with Hongjoong, you find he’s already staring at your features intently and it has you halting in your movements.

  “Oh…what are you looking at? Do I have something on my face?” Your hands shoot up to rub the nonexistent smudge from your skin, to which he shakes his head with an amused chuckle. 

  “No, just admiring the beautiful bartender, love.” 

  The words have you scoffing gently, a smile gracing your lips. “Please, sir.” 

  Hongjoongs brows meet in a furrow at your scoff. “You don’t believe me?” Hongjoong is perplexed at how you dismiss his compliment, idly wondering if it was because you didn’t believe his words. 

  You meet his eyes, lifting your shoulder in a noncommittal shrug. It wasn’t that you were insecure in your appearance per say, but with years of working around lavishly clad women who never had an off day in their life, it was difficult to regard yourself as particularly, in Hongjoong’s words, beautiful. 

  “Now, pray tell, who in their right mind made you believe you weren’t, hm? I’ll have them taken care of in a moment, honey.” Hongjoongs words are laced with an amused tone, but his intention was deathly serious. 

  A shaking of your head has him curious and you explain, “No one, sir. Just a bit hard to believe when there are a bunch of models just twenty feet behind you.” You tease. However, Hongjoong doesn’t appear as amused. In fact, he seems miffed.

“Couldn’t give a damn less about them, if i’m honest. You’re a gorgeous woman, y/n. Don’t want to hear you saying otherwise, you hear?” His eyes are burning into your own, the black kohl smudged around his eyes making them appear inky. Your amused expression melts into a timid one, nodding softly at his words. They were said with such earnestness that it has a warmth spreading in your gut. 

  He leans back in the stool, glass abandoned, forgotten. 

  “Would you like to get some air with me?” He speaks, voice just above a whisper, and you wouldn’t have heard him over the steady club music if you hadn’t been gazing at his lips already. 

  Your head bobs in agreement. “Sure.”

  After untying your apron, you close the bar momentarily, and follow Hongjoong out the back entrance, stepping into the cool air of the November Seoul air. The bite of the chilly wind has you rubbing your upper arms slightly to generate heat.

  Hongjoong leans against the wall underneath the neon sign hanging above the two of you, gazing at you with slightly hooded eyes when you sit on the bench just near the door. 

  “Do you like your job, y/n?” He asks, voice surrounding the two of you warmly in the otherwise nippy air. When you nod, and respond, “Of course, sir.” He tongues his cheek with a distant look in his eye.

  “Why do you ask?” The voice you hold is small, slightly wavering with a shiver.

  He pushes off the wall, walking over to you slowly, the crunch of scattered rocks underneath his suede chelsea boots. He crouches in front of your seated form so that your eyes are now level. The spiciness of his expensive cologne surrounds you, and you find yourself involuntarily inhaling the aroma greedily. He smelled lavish, addicting. 

  The contact between your gazes turns slightly tense when his eyes hood, and his adams apple bobs when he swallows.

  “Would you consider another job, if I offered?” He sounds hesitant, and it makes your brows furrow. Hongjoong was usually confident, you’d never seen him second guess any decision, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant. He was absolutely sure of himself at all times, knew what he liked, disliked. He’d been that way ever since you’d met him, since the day he’d hired you three years ago. 

  “Another…job?” The question has him inhaling sharply. You’re confused, and then you’re shaking your head in rejection. 

  “I’m content working for you here, and there may be conflict with my schedule-“ Your sentence is cut short when you see the way his teeth sank into his bottom lip, head tilting in disagreement. 

  “It’s nothing like that, love. Hours would be absolutely flexible, and terms are one hundred percent negotiable.” His tone is hushed, but you’re infinitely more confused than you were before.

  “Wha-… but, would I still be working for you? I’m comfortable here sir, i’m not sure i’d like swi-“ He cuts you off yet again, this time slightly impatient.

  “Angel, I have money, and I like talking to you. I’m asking to buy your time, y/n.” His voice is strained.

  His words have your eyes widening, mouth gaped and a scarlet blush blossoming on your cheeks. 

 “W-what? You want me to have sex with you for money?! Like a…prostitute?” Your sentence is hushed, incredulous, but he’s shaking his head vehemently.

  “Nothing like that, of course not. Anything you wanted, I'd buy for you, spoil you, pay your rent. In return you’d simply eat dinner from time to time, stay at my place and watch a movie, anything you’re comfortable with.” He says it hushed, but so simply. Like he was formulating a business contract. 

  “Oh. I see…” You couldn’t deny the idea enticed you slightly. It wouldn’t hurt to have your bills paid, your wishlist cleared. But you didn’t know how you felt about being bought. It felt dirty. 

  “It wouldn’t have to be anything remotely sexual, not unless you wanted it to be. I just…find you so captivating, I would like to get to know you, blow some money while I'm at it. You deserve to be spoiled.” He whispers, splaying a hand on your half, rubbing slightly against the frigid skin. 

  “Just…dinner and…hanging out with you?” The whisper, not outwardly a rejection, has Hongjoongs heart thumping in excitement. 

  “Mhm…perhaps the occasional photo.” You shoot him a sceptical look at his words.

  “Nude photos?” You ask, hesitant. You didn’t know how okay with that you’d be. 

  “Whatever you want. Just want them to be of you.” His hand leaves your calf, and the warmth disappears, you almost whine in disappointment. 

  You’d always been attracted to Hongjoong, despite knowing it was inappropriate. The man was your boss, although he was only a few years your senior. What with his flirty words and naturally charming personality, it was only so long before you could no longer fight off the natural crush you’d formed over the years. You obviously had never expected the crush to morph into anything other than a one sided display of admiration, but, here you were. Being asked to spend time with the very man that had been the object of your admiration, go on dates and hang out at his house, one in which you’d never seen a day in your life. He wanted to blow his hard earned cash on you, in exchange for something so trivial. You weren’t going to pretend to understand, but you find yourself nodding in agreement before you can stop yourself. 

  “I need verbal confirmation, baby.” Hongjoong finds it difficult to hide the pleased tone in his voice, but he doesn’t mind. He’s happy he didn’t scare you, make you uncomfortable. He’d grown lonely over the years, grown tired of being used for his body or riches by greedy, heartless women. Any woman he fell for, he soon found out they were simply trying to meander their way into his business, in attempts to secure a spot at his fortune. So, he decided that his affection for you was going to be strictly that, business. He liked you, wanted you. But he wasn’t going to let his heart be hurt again. That didn’t stop him from caring about you though, wanting to spoil you. It was in his nature, he supposed.

  “Yes, sir. I accept your offer.” Your smile is small, but it has him grinning impossibly wide. 

  “Ah… good. Gonna treat you so right, love.” His lips graze your knuckles when he lifts it to his mouth, but he frowns at the feeling of your icy hands.

  “Fuck, you’re freezing. Let’s get you inside.” 

  After he guides you back inside, you rety your apron that was previously discarded onto the bar, and remove the closed sign sitting on the wood. You’re about to take the order of a man standing near the bar, but Hongjoong stops you with a hand on your lower back.

  “You can back out anytime, I want you to know your comfort is absolutely the most important thing in this. Hmm?” He whispers into your hair, the warmth of his breath fanning across the shell of your ear and cheek. You nod, granting him a small smile.

  “Of course.” Pleased with your response, he squeezes your hip and pulls away, manoeuvring from behind the bar, and disappears into the crowd. A sigh leaves your lips and you bring the backs of your hands to your inflamed cheeks, in hopes to cool them off.

  Your shift continues in a daze, like you didn’t just agree to being a sugar baby a few hours earlier. It was as if it never happened, until your shift ends and it’s time for you to wrap up from behind the bar and you’re reminded of your agreement.

  Hongjoong is leaning against a different vehicle than from the previous evening when you exit out the back door, waiting for you, you’d assume. Butterflies erupt in your gut when he raises his gaze at the sound of the door opening. He looks tired, under eyes dark and muscles tense, but you think he looks beautiful nonetheless. 

  “Have a good shift, angel?” He asks, turning to unlock the door with a fob gripped in his embellished hands. 

  You don’t respond, looking around for the driver, Jaehyun, while walking toward the foreign car. It’s a sleek, black Ferrari. It matches him perfectly

  “Where Jaehyun and the Rolls Royce?” You ask curiously.

  Hongjoong smiles, walking to the passenger side and opening the door politely, so you can enter. When you’re sitting comfortably, he closes the door and walks around the car to the driver's side, settling himself into the driver's seat.

  “I thought I'd drive you tonight. That okay?” His deft, decorated hands insert the key into the ignition, and the car roars to life. 

  “Yeah, of course…this car is so nice, holy shit.” You look around in an awe filled stupor, sleek black interior so clean you feel that just looking at it disturbs the cleanliness. It smells identical to the cologne Hongjoong typically wears, scent loosening your muscles and festering deep in your loins. The heat of the car turns on, warming you comfortably.

  “Hmm, glad you like it. It’s my personal vehicle. I usually don’t drive myself to and from work, but I wanted time to myself tonight.” His words have you looking over to him, finding that he’s already gazing at you. You smile, small and content.

  “It suits you.” You gesture to the car. 

His pearly white teeth peek through his lips as he tries to stifle a grin. 

  “It’d better, it cost me a pretty penny.” He winks.

“Why do I feel that it barely made a dent at all?” You joke, feeling comfortable in the warmth of the car. 

  He bellows out a laugh, “You’d be right.” 

  At that, you perk up. “Do you enjoy your job?” You refer to the conversation you two had earlier that day and he nods simply.

  “It gets stressful at times. There’s certain…duties I have to fulfil that feel taxing. But overall, I like the control I have over my own success, and the money doesn’t hurt.” You find yourself admiring his profile as he speaks, lips plumping when they curl around certain consonants, nose arched beautifully and eyelashes fluttering the tops of his cheeks when he blinks slowly. 

  “Hmm, I can understand that.” He turns his head, meeting your eyes. 

  “Also doesn’t hurt that I get to meet pretty little bartenders who are far more addicting than they’ll ever begin to understand.” A coarseness wraps around his words, coming out as a mere hot whisper. His tongue darts out to wet his dry lips, and your eyes follow the movement heatedly, butterflies erupting in your stomach. 

  He looks away quickly, putting the car in drive and pulling out of the parking lot. It’s well past two in the morning, so the roads are fairly empty save for a stray vehicle here and there. Your flat is pretty far from the club, so the drive leaves you with plenty of time to bask in Hongjoong’s presence.

  “Your job starts tomorrow, you’ll be taking a shift off from the club to join me, if that’s alright.” Hongjoong breaks the comfortable silence the two of you were veiled in, and your head turns to peer at him.

  “What’s the plan?” You inquire curiously.

  “I’m taking you out shopping, then dinner.” A smile graces his lips and it’s so breathtaking, you can’t help but nod in agreement at his words. 

  “Do I need to dress nice?” Hongjoong hums at your question.

  “No, just casual, baby.” 

  One hand is wrapped around the steering wheel, the other lying comfortable in his lap, and he looks so tempting. Your hand reaches over the console to take the hand lying in his lap into your own, admiring the rings on his fingers. The contact has your skin tingling, and you can tell he’s affected all the same. 

  “Your hands are so nice. The rings really are so beautiful.” You twist the gold bands between your fingertips, ogling the glints of the rainbow jewels in the low light pouring into the vehicle thanks to the street lights. His nail polish is sleek and well applied, no doubt the product of a talented manicurist.

  Hongjoongs throat vibrates with a noncommittal noise, “They’re pigeon blood rubies. Half a million per carat. You can have it, if you’d like.” You guffaw at his nonchalant offer to hand over a million dollar ring.

  “Let me start off slow, please. Millions is a little expensive to begin with. The most expensive jewellery I own is a white gold necklace from Zales.” You chuckle under your breath, releasing his hand gently.

  “Now that just won’t do.” He tuts, with a playful pout. “Have the sapphire. It’s affordable.” He slides the sapphire ring off his thumb, playfully coating the last word of his sentence with a faux annoyed bite. 

  “For who? Cause it’s sure as hell not in my budget.” You say, but you accept when he slides it onto your own thumb. It’s a tad loose, so you plan to put it in a safe box when you get home, but you spin it around to glance at all the tiny sapphires bordering the larger one sitting in the centre. It was surrounded by small diamonds as well, although they were barely visible.

  “Only seventeen grand.” Hongjoong mutters, a smile on his face when he sees you admire the ring with an amazed glint in your eye. However, your eyes widen at the price.

  “Seventeen thousand dollars?!” You begin to slide the ring off, but he fixes you with a stern glare. 

  “Keep it, angel. It looks far better on you anyway.” He fixes both hands on the wheel as he rounds the corner onto the street your apartment is on. You feel a bit sad that you’re already almost home, meaning you’ll have to leave the safe comfort of the vehicle soon. 

  He clicks his tongue at your sad expression, and when you reach the front of your flat, he slows the car to a stop.

  “Don’t look like that, you’ll see me tomorrow.” He smiles amused when your cheeks flush, embarrassed at having been caught pouting.

  “I wasn’t-!” You huff, but flounder when you notice he’s teasing. The door opens, pushed open with his left hand. 

You wait patiently, when he steps out of the car to make sure it was safe, before walking around and opening your door as well. When you step out, his hand finds purchase on your lower back, much like the last time he dropped you off. The warmth of it seeps through your shirt, making the skin below break into goosebumps.

  He walks you up the pathway, before stopping at your doorway. You feel slightly more comfortable today, a stark difference from yesterday’s car ride. It was giving you whiplash how fast your dynamic had changed, but you welcomed it, perhaps dazedly.

  He raises your knuckles to his lips, brushing them against your skin in a chaste kiss. It had your knees weakening and a pool forming between your thighs. 

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, hm?” His whispered breath fans across the back of your head and you nod, light headed. 

  “Mhm.” You hum.

  He gently drops your slightly trembling hand and breaks his eyes from your own. He confidently strides back to the car, turning one last time to throw a small cheshire smile in your direction. You grin. 

  You don’t look away until the car is pulling away, and only then do you unlock your front door to let yourself in. Milo trots when he hears you, and you scoop him up with a giggle. 

  He mews in annoyance, glaring at you with big, round eyes. “Don’t look at me like that, I know.” 

  You remove your makeup in a daze, eyes catching the ring on your thumb in the bathroom mirror. You slide it off carefully, placing it in the jewellery box sitting atop your bathroom counter. It looks far out of place among your other jewellery from  various affordable websites like Shein or Amazon. Hopping in the shower to strip the day from your body, you avoid your knuckles with your soapy loofah. 

  When you exit the shower an hour later wrapped in a fluffy towel, wet hair sticking to your neck and face, your gaze finds itself at your phone on the counter. 

  Photos. That was in the job description. You’d never sent lewd photos before, hell you barely took selfies. But, you found yourself trying lots of new things lately.

  With that, you picked up the phone, opening your camera app. You fix your hair slightly, neatening it against the gentle slope of your shoulders. The way your towel is wrapped has your cleavage naturally accentuated, chest flushed from the warmth of the steam. You snap a quick photo, from a higher angle, capturing just a sliver of your cleavage, mostly highlighting your flushed cheeks and natural pout. Your face is bare, skin fresh and you look glowy. You look good.

  Your finger finds the messaging app, selecting Hongjoongs contact, having been given his personal number in case of an emergency but you’d never felt the need to use it. Except for now. 

  You select the photo, and quickly send it with a short and sweet caption, sleep well, before you can psych yourself out. The swish of the message sending makes anxiety flood your stomach. You slam your phone face down on the counter when you see the delivered 4:13 am notification flashing back at you.

  You choose to distract yourself with your night routine, applying your skincare with shaky hands, sliding into fresh cotton underwear, pyjama shorts, and an old Star Wars tee. Despite feeling fresh and clean, the anxiety still pricks when you haven’t heard a notification from your phone in, now, eight minutes. 

  Walking to the kitchen, you pour some kibble into Milo’s bowl, to which he immediately scarfs down. You can’t find it within yourself to giggle at him, instead biting your cuticles when you still haven’t received a notification. It has fifteen minutes now, so you decide to lay in your bed and try to get some sleep.

  You plug in your phone and fix yourself under the duvet, Milo curling into your side as normal. You let out a dejected sigh, and shut your eyes. 

  However, they shoot open a few minutes later when you hear the telltale ding! alert you that you’ve received a text. You scramble to turn on your bedside lamp, Milo meowing in annoyance, but you’re too distracted reaching for your phone to notice. 

  When you open the app, you’re met with an image that has your gut tightening. It's a photo of Hongjoong, a mirror selfie, and he's shirtless. A simple pair of light grey silk pajama bottoms leave little to nothing to the imagination, outline perfectly visible through the flimsy fabric. He’s not overly muscular, but he’s defined. The slight v disappearing into the waistband of his pants had your mouth watering. All of his jewelry was removed, save for his earrings, and his hair was fluffy, freshly washed. The photo screamed domestic, and it’s accompanied by a text. 

  Would sleep better if I was next to you. Sweet dreams, angel. 

You giggle, and hide your face in your duvet, the phone vibrates with another text, and you open it quickly. 

  Don’t think I’m forgetting about that naughty little photo, either. 

Your cheeks flush and you grin, typing a response. 

  Not sorry ;) Goodnight sir. 

Your dreams that night are plagued with pigeon red rubies and spicy cologne. 

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

 You wake at noon, the excitement for the day waking you, as well as a text. 

  I’ll pick you up at 3. See you later, angel.

It's simple and to the point, and yet you feel giddy all the same. You pour Milo breakfast, as well as yourself, but your stomach is full of nerves so you don’t finish, discarding the bowl in the sink.

  You decide to begin getting ready, clock now reading that it was half past noon. You take your time curling your hair softly, as well as applying makeup that had you feeling pretty. Topping off your lips with a subtle gloss, you gaze at your reflection. It was hard not to look in the mirror and wonder, why you? but you did your best to push the hesitancy down and let yourself enjoy a good thing. Ideas of an outfit are a little more difficult than your hair and makeup. You peer at the time, 2:27. You decide on a simple pair of medium washed distressed mom jeans, a plain white cropped scoop neck tee, and a black puffer coat. It was getting cooler outside, so you tried to keep it as casual as possible while still being adequately warm. For shoes, you decide on your trusty flat bottom ankle boots, a pair of cream socks keeping your toes toasty. 

  A few touch ups on your makeup, a spritz of musky perfume, and a kiss to Milo’s head later and you’re ready. It’s now 2:58 and when you hear a firm knock on your door, your belly erupts in nerves. 

  You inhale deeply before you open your door, met with the sight of what you’d equate to an angel on earth. Hongjoongs  caramel hair is pulled into a loose high ponytail, a leather designer jacket resting over a black tee, and black jeans ripped at the knee adorn his legs. He’s wearing his usual Chelsea boots, and you realise he looks even better casual, if that was even possible. He’s bare faced, and he looks gorgeous. The scent of his familiar cologne makes you want to positively jump his bones. But you reel back, you desperately needed to calm down before you rushed too far ahead of yourself. 

  “Hi, sir.” Your meek voice has him smiling softly.

  “Hi, baby. You ready?” He questions, and you’re about to nod, then you feel a warmth on your ankle. Looking down, you see Milo nudging his head against your ankle, curious as to who was at the door. 

  A soft gasp leaves Hongjoong’s lips, and he bends down to be level with the cat.

  “Who’s this? The one I hear so much about, huh?” He coos as he rubs Milo’s head, Milo’s absolutely thriving with the attention. You grin at the sight, Milo being an absolute glutton for the pets Hongjoong is spoiling him with. 

  “Mhm, he seems to like you.” You mutter, crouching to pet your baby as well. 

Hongjoong scratches underneath his fluffy chin, and speaks, “Gonna steal your mommy for a bit today, you okay with that sir?” He asks seriously, and the tone of his voice is so amusing it has you giggling. Hongjoong looks at you, smiling at the sound of your joyous giggles.

  He rises, as do you, and you nudge Milo to head back inside. You close the door gently, stepping out onto the small porch area in front of your house. You slide your key into the keyhole, locking up your apartment. When you turn to look at Hongjoong, he’s already gazing at you. 

  “You look stunning, angel.” His words have you feeling warm and your cheeks flood with warmth. With a shake of your head, you begin walking toward the sleek black vehicle parked in front of your house.

  “It’s just a coat and some jeans, sir.” You chuckle, bashfully. He grabs your hand and spins you so that you’re facing him once again.

  “It’s not just the clothes, let me praise you, please.” He pleads gingerly. A finger, embellished with his trademark rings, rises to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear, before sliding and toying with your bottom lip. He swipes his thumb across it in admiration of the supple flesh, before stepping away and turning to open the passenger door, which was facing your flat. 

  Your eyes meet, and then you duck your head to slide into the passenger seat. He joins in a moment, sliding himself into the driver's seat and starting the engine. The car rolls away from your apartment, and carries you further into the city.

  “What store are we going to?” You question curiously, and he simply lifts his shoulder, sucking his teeth teasingly.

  “It’s a surprise.” His tone makes you groan, for you dislike surprises. 

  You peer out the window, looking at all the tall buildings in amazement, despite having seen them countless times throughout the course of your life. The sight never failed to leave you in awe. Hongjoong’s gaze drifts over to you, addicted to the glint in your eye. He feels his heart tug for only a moment before he’s shaking his head softly. 

  He pulls into a parking lot of a store, and you’re ducking to gaze through the windshield in order to see the name of the store. A bright LV sign flashes back at you and you gape. 

  “You took me shopping at Louis Vuitton and i’m wearing mom jeans.” You scowl and Hongjoong laughs in response, it’s genuine amusement and despite your shock you can’t help but let a small laugh escape as well.

  “Angel, I’m wearing ripped skinny jeans, we’re in the same boat.” He reminds you gently.

  “Yeah, your boat is a yacht and mine is a damn raft.”  You look over to him, seeing his chest shaking with laughter. “I’m serious! This is crazy…” You ramble, and he grabs your hand in his own larger one, lavish rings serving as a simple reminder to you that you’re in way over your head. 

  “Don’t worry too much, love. Let me spoil you, hm? If anyone has something to say about your -adorable by the way- jeans, I’ll simply buy the storefront and have them fired, how does that sound?” His tone is teasing, and you know he’s joking. You also know he had the power to do so if he so pleased. 

  When he’s met with your nod, he hums, satisfied. The two of you exit the car, and a gentle hand on your lower back guides you into the entrance of the store. A clerk is at your side immediately, offering help if the two of you need it, to which Hongjoong politely declines. You don’t miss the way the employee's eyes rake over Hongjoong’s form, however, and you’re afraid to admit that a certain green monster tugs at your heart. You push it away mentally when Hongjoong guides you to the shoe section. 

  You allow your eyes to sweep over the large selection of heels, sneakers, and more on the display wall. There, you spot a gorgeous set of red bottom pumps. The exterior is a sleek glossy black, the sole a deep blood red shade. There’s a simple lace ankle strap, and there’s a tiny gold, diamond encrusted LV charm dangling from it delicately. You gasp when your eyes connect with them, and it catches Hongjoong’s attention. 

  “Ah, you like those? Just a moment.” He leaves your side, and you’re curious where he goes, but it’s quickly replaced with the admiration of the heels once again, you’re truly in awe. You’d never been inside such a luxurious store, it was proving difficult not to fall in love, you wouldn’t have had any idea where to start if it wasn’t for Hongjoong. These heels were simple enough for your taste, nothing too flashy, feminine and beautiful. As you’re admiring them, Hongjoong returns with an older woman, the employee for the shoe department you’re guessing, who gazes at the particular pair you’re looking at.

  “Oh, yes those are a great choice. They’re diamond encrusted, cushioned with goose feathers in the sole for comfort as well. They retail for $1,320.” She explains to Hongjoong, who nods before taking your hand in his. “You want those, baby?” He questions. 

  You’re breathless for a second, having to digest that you’re about to own red bottoms. A hum leaves you, “Yes, please.” You smile softly at the grin that etches its way onto his face.

  He turns to the employee, and requests a pair in your size. You briefly wonder how in the hell he knows your shoe size, but you choose not to question it. Nothing about your dynamic was normal anyway. When the lady walks away to retrieve the pair, Hongjoong brings his hand up to cradle your jaw. 

  “Gonna look so pretty in those shoes…” He sighs out, eyes glazing over slightly. You nod eagerly. “Thank you, sir. Seriously, they're amazing. I've never seen anything like them. In dreams maybe.” You breathe out a chuckle. 

  Hongjoong removes his hand gently, throat bobbing with a swallow, a smile gracing his lips. “Well, get used to dreams coming true, anything you want.” His voice is earnest, and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip.

  You still, despite the many reassurances, still feel a little guilty, a little dirty. Like a cheap whore using a man for his money. Hongjoong was more than that to you. He was a great boss, always making sure you were comfortable at your work. When you weren’t he’d quite literally throw the threat of the doors, banning them from ever returning. He’d proven to be a good friend as well, your banter becoming one of your favorite parts of your shifts. It felt weird being like this with him, albeit a tad exciting, but mostly strange. You simply didn’t know how to just accept being spoiled. When your dad died, you had to become fully independent. Spending extra shifts at the convenience store working your ass off to even be able to afford rent, often surviving off of ramen and canned tuna for months until you landed the job at Hongjoongs club. He’d taken you in when you were barely of age to serve alcohol, but he took pity on you. Gave you a second chance at life. You were comfortable, still nowhere near wealthy by any means, still nowhere near buying red bottoms for fun. It felt foreign, you didn’t know how to adjust. 

  “Where’s that head at, angel? Come back to me.” His voice lures you back to the current moment, eyes looking slightly concerned at your glassy expression. 

  “Sorry, zoned out. Just hungry, I guess.” You reassure him, a small smile thrown his way. He knew it didn’t reach your eyes, but he didn’t pry. 

  The woman is back shortly after, sleek box in hand. “If you’ll head up to the front, I can check you out there.” The both of you follow her to the white marble counter, and she rings up the shoes, the price making you avert your eyes, gaze dancing around the store in amazement. 

  “Anything else for you two today?” The woman asks, patiently awaiting your answer. 

  Hongjoong seems to have an idea, “Actually, yes. Could you hold these here for me, please?” He asks politely, to which she nods and responds whenever you’re ready.

  Your brows furrow. “What are you doing?” You ask when he gently pulls your wrist to a separate section of the store. He doesn’t reply, simply looks forward and guides you. 

  “Sir, what are yo-“ Your sentence fades as you take in the sight in front of you. Latex corsets, lace babydolls, mesh teddies. Lingerie. Your cheeks burn crimson and you hastily grab his hand. 

  “Lingerie?! What the hell, sir, I don’t need all that.” You whisper hastily, glancing around you to make sure you were alone.

  If red bottoms were new to you, designer lingerie was a foreign planet entirely. The closest thing to sexy lingerie you owned was a purple lace thong from Victoria’s Secret that painfully dug into your ass anytime you moved an inch.

  Hongjoong smirks, crossing his arms. “Of course you don’t need it, that’s not why we’re here. I want you to feel good about yourself, I think this'll do quite the trick.” He gestures to the various articles of clothing. Or lack thereof you should say. 

  You swallow, mouth dry, and you meet his eyes. There’s something swimming in his otherwise inky gaze, though you can’t seem to decipher it. You don’t respond, too mortified to form words. Instead, you step forward and allow your fingertips to feel out the different fabrics. 

  As you walk around, curiously analysing a few dozen sets, Hongjoong’s eyes are glued to how your expressions change when touching a new fabric. Lace, curiosity. Satin, content. Mesh, unease. Latex, hesitance. You’re so fascinating to him, even doing something so mundane as touching different fabrics. Your eyes lock on a specific set, a deep red lace faux corset, a matching thong and garter set. He’s astonished at how you, someone so sheepish and reserved when it came to lingerie could choose something so erotic. He’s sure it’s purely coincidental that you happened to choose his favourite colour, but it has his pants tightening nevertheless. He wills himself to calm down, not wanting to make you uncomfortable because he can’t control the way his cock swells at the sight of you innocently holding red lingerie. 

  “Mm, this one.” You hum. The lace felt comfortable underneath your fingertips, not too scratchy. The fabric was stretchy as well, as opposed to the satin or latex. It also covered the most, while still being explicitly sexy. However, more artistic, you’d argue. 

  Hongjoong simply nods, head gesturing to an area reserved for trying on clothes, the red and black booths intimidating the hell out of you. 

  “Try it on.” He suggests.

  You weakly nod, feet slowly carrying you to the dressing rooms. You halt in front of the door, looking over your shoulder to see Hongjoong gazing at you expectantly. When he senses your apprehension, he does a scooting motion with his hands, urging you to continue.

  The door closes with a frighteningly loud slam, and it does nothing to ease your nerves. You slip off your jacket, hanging it on the hook on the back of the door. The room is spacious, red and black decor with warm lights above and below the gigantic mirror hanging on the opposite wall. You shimmy out of your jeans and tshirt, removing your bra sheepishly, but keeping your nude thong on. 

  Trying on the piece is more difficult than you’d anticipated, a mess of limbs and messy hair. Despite your struggle, you manage to wiggle your way into it. When you look in the mirror, you nearly gasp at what greets you in the reflection. Your curves are accentuated flawlessly by the material, the faux corset pushing your breasts together enticingly. The garter belt works wonders to cinch your waist without being too overbearing. The straps of the garters hang loosely around your plush thighs, seeing as you weren’t wearing stockings for them to cling onto. The colour is stunning against your skin tone, accentuating the beautiful tones usually hidden by the muted colours you typically wore. It was beautiful. You were beautiful. A sigh of content leaves your lips at the sight.

  “How does it look, angel?” Hongjoongs voice calls from behind the door and you jolt, startled. 

  “Uh- it’s good. Looks good, you were right.” You respond, clearing your throat. You pause for a moment, confidence overpowering your hesitance as you mutter your next words.

  “Would you like to see?” Your voice is relatively small, and you’re sure he doesn’t hear you at first, but he responds after a brief pause.

  “Do you want me to see?” He asks, voice unusually subdued. You nod gently, then realise he can’t see you. “Yes.” You whisper. 

  It’s quiet for a moment before he says, hushed. “Unlock the door for me, baby.” And you do as you’re told.

  As soon as the door unlocks, the door is pulled open and Hongjoong slips into the room. You’re very aware this is very not allowed, and the thought of getting caught, despite not even being in a compromising situation has excitement slowly bleeding into your veins.

  Hongjoongs eyes rake over your body slowly, and he has to lean against the door as to not surge forward and rip the fucking lace from your body. You’re shy, he can tell, with your reserved posture and demeanour wildly contradicting the sinful sight of your soft body encased by the material. The red against your skin has his pants tightening once again, and he has to look into your eyes so as to not grow harder. 

  “I-is it nice? I mean, do you like it?” Your voice is gentle, and he wishes he could scream out how much he just adores the set, adores you in it. But he responds with a simple, “More than you know, doll.” 

  You feel your cheeks flush at the gruff tone in his voice. You could understand his predicament, the way his eyes rake over your body has you so tight wound, you would positively melt if he touched you when you were dressed like this. So, while disappointed, you’re also grateful when he ducks his head and speaks. “You should get it, you look amazing. I’ll exit now, alright? Just meet me at the register.” He whispers, not waiting to hear your response before calmly, albeit quickly, unlocking the door and slipping out of the room as swiftly as he entered it. 

  You shimmy out of the piece impossibly fast, returning it to the hanger, and slipping your own clothes back on. The lingerie is folded over your arm as you walk to the register, and the older lady smiles when she sees you.

  “Is this going to be it?” She asks politely, and the two of you simply nod. Hongjoong pays with a sleek black credit card, the total coming out to be 1,500 even, and it has you wincing inwardly. Once she bags the items, Hongjoong takes it into his hand graciously and guides you out the entrance, back to the vehicle. Once you’re comfortable in the passenger seat, you breathe out a sigh.

  “Overwhelmed?” Hongjoong questions, feeling slightly guilty at your flushed appearance, obviously mistaking it for fatigue. While he’s only half right, you nod. “Very.” 

  “Still good to go to dinner?” He questions. He’s hopeful this whole thing isn’t too much for you, especially considering this was the tip of the iceberg for him. A pair of red bottoms and some lingerie wasn’t enough for him, he’d buy the entirety of Seoul for you if it meant he got to see that excited glint in your eye once more. The thought of making anyone uncomfortable, particularly you, has his blood running cold. That was the last thing he wanted.

“Mhm, starving.” You respond, buckling your belt and he grins, relieved that you weren’t tapping out on him. 

  The restaurant he drives the two of you to is casual, thank god, you didn’t think you could handle showing up to another fancy place in your casual attire and walk out not completely mortified. It’s a familiar restaurant, a simple Tteokbokki centred eatery. It was still nice, albeit a bit obscure from eyes unless you knew about it. You used to frequent this restaurant with your dad when he started his treatments, every Friday when you got home from school, he’d take you here, and you’d gorge on as much Tteokbokki as your tummy could handle, laughing when one was too full to even stand. When he died, you’d returned a few times, but it just wasn’t the same. 

  Hongjoong notices the way you wring your fingers together when he pulls into the lot. “Everything alright, angel?” His voice is sweet, concerned.

  “Mm, everything’s fine. I used to come here a lot with my dad.” You’d half expected him not to remember what you told him, but he does. A frown finds itself on his face, and you want to reach over the dashboard and rub the furrow out of his brow with your thumb, but you refrain.

  “Ah, I’m sorry, love, it probably reminds you of him huh? We can go somewhere else if you’d like? Anywhere you want to go, I’ll make it happen.” His apology is paired with a gentle, warm hand cradling your jaw, a habit he seems to have picked up with you that has your heart rate soaring anytime he does.

  You shake your head earnestly, “No this is perfectly fine. I love it here.” You reply abruptly. He nods, squeezes your jaw softly, and turns to open his door. 

  When the two of you enter the restaurant, you’re met with a friendly waitress who sits the two of you in a corner seat, face to face, the lighting dim and warm. The shop is empty, save for an elderly couple at the other side of the store, the only noise coming from a small radio on the cashier counter softly playing jazz. 

  When the waitress comes to your table to take your order, you order the cheese Tteokbokki, the one you always did before. Hongjoong orders a regular, but asks that she doesn’t make it too spicy, as he’s sensitive to that kind of thing. When the woman walks away, you erupt into giggles. 

  Hongjoong grins at your giggles, before sucking his teeth. “What you laughing at, pretty girl?” 

  “Who knew the powerful Hongjoong’s biggest fear would be spice?” The sentence is spoken through giggles, and he groans playfully. 

  “Who enjoys having their mouth abused while trying to eat delicious food? I’m simply just trying to enjoy the taste.” He replies, and your giggles finally subside. 

  “Mm, call it what you want.” The amused lilt of your voice, he decides, is his favourite. The food arrives quickly, steam rising between the two of you in thick, smoky tendrils. The sight of the cakes has your mouth watering, and you bow respectfully to Hongjoong for buying the meal for you. It’s oddly domestic, and for a split second you forget your peculiar situation. The two of you dig in, Hongjoong panting slightly at what you’d assume was the slight spice in the cakes, and it has you grinning around the stringy cheese. 

  You two eat fairly in silence, save for the occasional stolen glance, or giggle when it gets too spicy for him. The older couple finish their food, and leave shortly after paying, but not before throwing a nostalgic smile in your direction, to which neither of you notice. When the pair leave, it leaves you and Hongjoong in a shroud of silence, so you decide to break it. 

  “My father couldn’t really handle spice either, it was the funniest thing. He was, somehow, even more dramatic than you when it’d get too spicy.” You smile warmly at the memory, poking another cake to pop it in your mouth. 

  “Your father knew of the tribulations of spice, wise man in my book.” He grins, and you mirror it. 

  “He was.” The sadness in your heart is heavily outweighed by pride for your father, suddenly you miss him greatly. 

  “What was he like?” Hongjoong questions, careful not to push too far as to make your eyes glass, he thinks briefly that it’d kill him to make you cry.

  “He was hardworking above anything, he gave me a great life when he could barely make one for himself,” You swallow a sip of water before continuing, “My parents had me young and when my mom had decided she didn’t want to be around, he took on the responsibility by himself because he’d loved me too much to just let me go into the system. Worked hard everyday to provide for us both, making sure I was always happy and healthy.” Your heart warms as you talk about your father.

  However, it’s soon replaced by a small nagging sadness when you continue. “Then, when I was eighteen he was diagnosed with lung cancer. It was an aggressive kind, withered him down to nothing within a year of his diagnosis. Even then, he was putting my needs before his own. He was selfless till the absolute end. When he died, I kinda…I kinda lost myself a bit.” A frown etches itself onto your mouth. You continue eating silently, and Hongjoong lets out a small breath.

  Hongjoong could understand, not well, but just enough. Both of his parents had died when he was extremely young, before he could even bond, thus he was raised in a cruel system where he’d had to fight with his foster siblings over anything and everything to survive. His foster parents were vile, and he felt nothing but resentment in his heart for them. He’d long forgotten their names. So, he didn’t quite understand what you were feeling, but he could empathise with losing everything.

  “He really loved you, y/n. His selflessness lives through you. He raised you well, he’d be proud of where you are today.” He whispers. For a moment, he has to hold himself back from capturing your lips, wanting to melt your sadness away. But he quickly shakes the thoughts from his head as quickly as they entered. 

  “Thank you, Hongjoong.” The name slips from your lips before you can stop it, and it has his heart throbbing. 

  “Mm…of course, baby. Ready to go?” He asks, gesturing to your empty plate and you nod. When he pays, the price being reasonable this time, you don’t wince. You feel good like this, when he’s humble, enjoying the simplicities of life like Tteokbokki and soft jazz bleeding into the store.

  The two of you settle into the car after paying, so full you struggle to move. You rub your belly, and it has his heart full knowing you’re content because of him. 

  “That was so delicious, thank you, sir.” At your words, he simply nods.

  “Of course. Anywhere else you want to go?” The car jolts when he puts it in reverse, backing out of the parking lot and pulling onto the busy road. 

  You think, before shaking your head. “Mm, no, I don’t think so.” There was nothing else you could immediately think of that you wanted, so he suggested, “Would you like to accompany me somewhere, then?” 

  At his words your brows furrow. “Accompany you? Where?” The car rolls to a stop as you reach a red light. Hongjoong turns to look at you, “An old friend of mine is having an art exhibition downtown. I’ve been meaning to go, now’d be the perfect time if you’d like to come with me?” The thought of an art exhibition has you excited, you'd been a sucker for art your entire life and you find yourself nodding eagerly. 

  “That sounds fun. Is it fancy?” You whisper the last part, and he chuckles. “No, baby. Just a few friends, nothing too much.” His words reassure you, and you turn to gaze out the window to the scenery passing by while he drives to the mysterious location.

  About ten minutes later, the car slows to a stop in front of a white brick building. It’s at the very heart of the city, cars buzzing every which direction, and it’s a bit intimidating. Hongjoong steps out of the car, and walks around to your side to help you out of the vehicle. It’s loud, what with the sounds of city life surrounding the two of you, so he quickly walks you up the steps in order to get you into the tranquillity of the silent building. 

  As soon as the two of you step through the doors, a man calls out excitedly for Hongjoong, and it has your eyes widening. The man is tall, and he’s confidently striding over to the two of you. 

  “Hongjoong! Where’ve you been, haven’t seen you in ages, man. Who is this pretty thing?” He talks fast, and it gives you borderline whiplash, before your cheeks burn at his compliment. Hongjoong chuckles, before turning to you. “This is y/n. An…employee and friend of mine.” The man nods eagerly, “Is that what they call it nowadays?” His eyebrows wiggle and you fight a smile at the way the man beside you bellows. “Yah! Keep it appropriate.”

  The two chuckle at each other, then the man turns to you. “Nice to meet you, y/n. I’m San.” He offers his hand and you shake it gently. Hongjoong speaks from beside you, “We’ve been friends since High School, he’s the artist behind the exhibition today.” You nod in understanding, offering your greetings to him officially. 

  “Well, I have to get back to the rounds, but I'll be around if you need anything. You guys enjoy, alright?” The three of you bid your laters, and Hongjoong guides you by the small of your back around the room hosting various paintings and art works. 

  They’re beautiful, abstract portraits for the most part. There are a few charcoal pieces as well, but you find your eyes gravitating to one particular sculpture. Hongjoong notices when you are no longer trailing behind him, looking back to find your eyes glued to the piece, and he smiles. 

  The sculpture is relatively small, of a woman, head thrown back, nude. Her supple breasts are pushed toward the ceiling, and her face is scrunched in a certain expression, seemingly pained. The hair is well crafted, it looks soft as it cascades over her shoulders, down her back. There's a second vague figure, head looming between what would be the woman's thighs, if the statue continued. However, it melted away before the second figure could be carved into detail, just a vague gesture. Your cheeks heat when you realise the sculpture is depicting a woman within the throes of passion, her lover occupying the area between her thighs. Hongjoong chuckles at the statue. “Damn, San…” You can only simply nod in agreement.

    Wandering away from the statue, the two of you continue looking over the pieces, sharing your thoughts occasionally, otherwise just enjoying each other's company. An hour passes, just admiring the works, but it passes far too quickly for your liking. San is insanely talented, and despite not knowing him well, you feel like you’re gazing at the deepest parts of himself. Namely, the carnal portion as he depicts passion and lust in nearly every single one of his creations. You’d never seen sensuality depicted like this, so artistically, and it was beautiful. 

  Hongjoong left your side a few minutes before, most likely to converse with San for a moment. He comes back, a smile adorning his face, and your eyes soften when you see it. He asks, “Ready, baby?” To which you respond with a nod. 

  The two of you make your way to San in order to give your goodbyes, and you are unable to hold yourself back from gushing to him about how much you loved the collection. “It was really amazing, San. I’ve never seen passion so…I don’t know, tangible in an art before. You’re insanely talented.” His smile is beaming when you finish, and he gives Hongjoong a look.

  Hongjoong squeezes your shoulder, before turning you to him slightly. “Which piece do you want?” He asks, and your brows furrow.

  “What…?” You ask, confused. San bellows out a laugh at your shocked expression. Hongjoong grins, “Any one you want, it’s yours. San agreed to sell me whichever one caught your eye.” He explains simply, and it has you gaping like a fish out of water.   Your eyes dart between the two of them wildly. “I can’t take one of your pieces, that’s too much, San.” 

  San shakes his head adamantly, and replies. “Art is meant to be appreciated. I know it’s going to a good home with you, so, go on. Pick one darling.” 

  You’re overwhelmed, but you find your eyes finding the sculpture unintentionally, and Hongjoong hums in understanding. “She’ll take that one, San.” He gestures to the sculpture and your eyes widen. Holy shit.

  “Will do. Just give me a moment to close that display. I’ll get it boxed up for you.” He strides away in the direction of the sculpture, and you run your hands through your hair in amazement. “God, sir, that’s…a lot. Thank you.” Your voice is strained, hoping to portray just how thankful you are that he’s gifting you something so precious. He cups your cheek.

  You had that glint in your eye, the one he’s grown addicted to witnessing. “Of course, angel. You couldn’t take your eyes off it, I had to.” His words are hushed, earnest. 

  San walks back to the two of you, and Hongjoong’s hand drops from your face to take the white box housing the sculpture into his arms. He gives his thanks to San, and you do as well, and San kisses the back of your hand gently in response before bidding the two of you a farewell. As you’re exiting the building, you’re suddenly overwhelmed with everything that’s happened over the course of the day. It was only the first day of your new employment, and you were already so overloaded with appreciation for the man who wanted to spoil you.

  He opens the backseat of the car, sliding the box safely into the floorboard, and then walks around to open the passenger side for you. 

  He climbs in the driver seat a few moments later, the engine roaring to life when he inserts the key into the ignition. In a silent thanks, you reach over and squeeze his hand. He returns the gesture with a sweet smile. 

  The clock on the dash of the car informed you that it was well past seven in the evening. Orange hues spilled into the vehicle, highlighting Hongjoong’s ethereal features in a pleasantly warm light. The chocolate pools of his eyes glimmered with the golden beams from the evening sun. You’re enchanted by the sight of him so calm and serene while he drives, and he glances over at you when he feels the heat of your gaze. 

  He doesn’t say anything, merely smirks softly and reaches over to splay a hand on your thigh. He squeezes gently, before letting the flesh go and returning his hand to his lap. You nearly whine at the loss of contact, the short seconds of contact having the skin his hand previously grazed buzzing. 

  The drive is quiet, simply enjoying each other’s company. A few moments later, however, Hongjoong pulls the car into a random lot overlooking a large bridge in the near distance, a river running underneath it. The sun’s rays kiss the water beautifully, and you find yourself gasping at the sight of the pinks and oranges painted across the evening sky. 

  “Wow…that’s really beautiful.” You whisper, and he parks the car, cutting the ignition. He steps out, motioning you to follow him. Pushing the door opening, you step out with his confirmation. He leans against the front of the vehicle, facing towards the rays of the sun. The way the sun hits his skin has a breath catching in your throat, and you join him, leaning against the car with your left shoulder brushing his own.

  It’s silent, both of you soaking up the view well until the sun nestles itself beyond the horizon, sky bleeding into an inky navy. The moments like this were what had your mind reeling, the reminder that his body is next to yours and you burned for it. You felt that, if circumstances were different, things could have been serious with the honey blonde man. If he wasn’t your boss, your sugar daddy, you guessed. It was unfortunate, you’d never felt so hot around anyone in a long time, never felt enamored by someone's very existence. You’d had one boyfriend in your entire life, when you were fifteen. He was a douchebag, dated you to manoeuvre you right out of your pants, and you hated to admit that it worked. Your virginity was lost one random night when you’d stayed over at his house. It lasted all of five minutes after absolutely no foreplay, and you’d left with tears in your eyes, in pain and humiliated. In the three years you’d known Hongjoong, he never once made you feel uncomfortable or used. Exact opposite in fact. Whenever you were around him you felt warm, protected, aroused. It wasn’t even entirely a physical thing, don’t misunderstand, you were very physically attracted to the man, but his essence attracted you more. The way he held himself so confidently, captured the attention of every and all. Briefly, you wondered if he felt the same, if his body felt hot in your presence. You shake the thoughts. 

  “I should get you home.” His melodic words tear you from your daze, and you turn your head to look at him. The colour of his eyes has returned to the beautiful deep coal they usually are, you could lose yourself in them if you weren’t careful. 

  “Okay.” You whisper, and he uses his pinky to brush a stray hair behind your ear, swept by the wind you’re assuming. 

  He pushes himself off the hood, and you follow his suit as he returns to the driver's seat of the car. During the lengthy drive to your flat, you find yourself slipping in and out of consciousness, fairly tired from the day. 

  When the two of you arrive at your apartment, Hongjoong carries the items he’d bought for you to your door, waiting patiently for you to unlock your door before setting the items on the floor near the entrance. He bids you a goodbye, a soft brushing of his lips against your knuckles and a smile, before sliding into the sleek Ferrari and driving off. 

  You’re in a daze as you wind down that night, thoughts running a thousand miles a minute at the discovery of your new feelings. Before bed, you try on the lingerie once more, unfolding the crimson dainty lace and sliding into it. It’s still just as beautiful as you remember, and you decide to snap a quick photo for Hongjoong.

  This photo is a little different than the last, you lie on your bed and angle the phone so that the entirety of your body up to your thighs is visible, face and torso accentuated by the low light of your bedside lamp, and angle you hip slightly, so that the lace hugs your curve, the divots of your body enticing. Your eyes hood naturally, tucking your lower pillowy lip between your teeth, and you snap the photo. You don’t recognize yourself, you look good.

  The message swishes when you send it with an attached text that reads Thank you, sir. I really enjoyed today, and you find yourself only slightly nervous, as opposed to last time. Perhaps his reaction in the dressing room solidified your confidence. 

  This time around, Hongjoong responds fairly quickly, with a simple text that read,

  You’re going to kill me, angel, I swear. You look stunning. 

  You grin and roll onto your stomach, kicking your feet slightly. It feels like you’re a teenager again, but Hongjoong has you feeling like a woman and it’s such a refreshing feeling.

  Sleep well, sir. Dream of me. 

With that, you click off your phone, connect it to the charger, and change into your sleep clothes. 

  You were already falling.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

  You haven’t seen Hongjoong for a week, and you’re starting to get antsy. When Jaehyun picked you up the day after your first outing, he’d informed you that Hongjoong had emergency business to attend to in Tokyo and that he'd be back in Korea in about two weeks. You were shocked, to put it lightly. You knew he owned many clubs all over Korea, but you hadn’t known about Japan. 

  It was lonely without his flirty words, his presence. He still texted you everyday, sending you photos of his smiling face, or a peace sign, along with generous amounts of money deposited into your bank account. You loved receiving his photos, as well as sending some in return. You truly did miss him. The texts weren’t enough to satisfy you, but you weren’t concerned about the money or your agreement. Simply, you just missed him. You’d acknowledged your feelings for the man long ago, realising now that you’d liked him since he gave you your second chance at life. He saw something in you, and you soon found yourself enamoured with his kind heart. You missed your Hongjoong. 

   Wooyoung did well to distract you, however. Berating you with his crude sense of humour, leaving you laughing so hard your ribs hurt more often than not.

  You’re at the club tonight, standing behind the bar as Wooyoung sits in the stool in front of you, sipping a Rum and Coke. He had cracked a joke before that had you tearing up with your laughter, and his elmo giggles have you cracking up harder.

  When the two of you calm slightly, Wooyoung pipes up. “So, what’s going on with you and ‘Joong?” He questions, biting down on a toothpick he’d stolen from the supply for the club-goers. 

  You shrug, noncommittal. “Just…two friends hanging out. Why?”

Wooyoung looks at you like you just said he wasn’t the hottest man on the planet, like he was offended you would lie to him. “Yeah, okay. You could try that lie with literally anybody else, not me though. We’re hanging out, friends. You and ‘Joong…” He trails off, shaking his head slightly. “That’s not friendship.” He says, matter of fact. It has you halting your movements of cleaning the bar in curiosity. 

  “What do you mean?” You ask, perplexed. 

  He smirks. “The two of you look like you’re constantly two seconds away from sucking each others face off, which, last time I checked, is not platonic in the slightest,” you’re about to butt in, but he interrupts you before you have the chance, “And I haven’t seen you so glowy and happy since that one famous idol came into the club that one time.” 

  You’re silent, because he’s right. Your feelings for Hongjoong aren’t platonic, but there wasn’t much you could do about that. You’d be damned if you ever admitted to Hongjoong that you’d fallen for him over the years. He wanted your time, not you. You’d learn to be okay with that. 

  Wooyoung frowns at your distant expression, before leaning over the counter to grab your hand comfortingly. 

  “Hey, it’s okay. You can’t change your feelings. Although it probably doesn’t help that the man would blow his entire life savings if you asked it of him. I know what goes on.” He mutters with a smirk, sipping from his glass quietly. 

  Your jaw goes slack, “How did you-!” He chuckles. 

  “Girl, you two are not slick. You leave in his car one night and the next time I see you you’re wearing Louboutins? Friends my perfect ass, you’re a whole sugar baby and he is whipped for you.” His voice is devious, and you swat his shoulder, but you giggle. 

  “Woo, it’s so crazy. I’ve never been treated like this. Feels so strange…” You trail off. “Plus, I’ve been thinking myself into a spiral while he’s not here to distract me. How come I never knew he had clubs in Tokyo…?” It was unfortunate that you were reminded how much you didn’t know the man.

  Wooyoung shrugs, “He doesn’t.” His eyes widened at his slip up. “I-i mean, fuck…” 

  Your brows furrow. “What do you mean? His driver Jaehyun said he was away on emergency business in Japan…” Wooyoung nods apprehensively.

  “He is….” He replies, nervous. If you were confused before, you’re infinitely more confused now. 

  “But if there’s no clubs in Tokyo and he’s away on business, what is he doin-“ 

  Your sentence is cut short when there’s a loud explosion from your left, the entrance of the club. Debris ricochets, and both you and Wooyoung drop low to the floor for cover. Wooyoung yells at you to crawl to the back room door through what sounds to be gunshots, but your ears are ringing so bad and your body is frozen in shock, so you don’t hear him. 

  Squeezing your eyes shut, you will your body to calm down. When you feel a hand tugging at your upper arm, you simply let them drag you, too frightened to fight them. 

  When you open your eyes, you spot Wooyoung panting, hands darting all over your body to make sure you aren’t hurt. You’re uninjured, and your ears clear from the ringing, although you can still hear gunshots and screaming from the other room. Wooyoung curses, clutching your hand in his own clammy one and crashing through the employee exit.

  “Jaehyun, start the car!” He screams, and suddenly tears flood your eyes. You’re panicking, but you have no time to question what the fuck is going on before Wooyoung is shoving you into the back seat of the Rolls Royce. Wooyoung climbs in after you, ducking your head in case the attackers decide to follow the two of you out back. Jaehyun pulls out of the parking lot quickly, tires squealing. Your chest constricts with anxiety when you see Wooyoung’s frazzled appearance. You’re nearly away from the club now, when a bullet shatters through the rear windshield glass. Wooyoung shoves both of your heads down, and you shriek in fear. Thankfully, no one is hurt, but you’re sobbing in terror.

  “Fuck! Fuck!” He screams, hitting the seat in front of him with his fist, before squeezing your hand in an attempt to calm you. He yanks his phone out of his pocket, calling someone. 

  “Come on ‘Joong, fucking pick up.” Your head shoots up at the mention of Hongjoong, but Wooyoung taps the screen with a curse, before bringing it back up to his ear. His body turns to look out the back window, anger written on his face. 

  “Wooyoung what’s going on?” You blurt through your tears. Wooyoung looks at you, and then suddenly your body lurches forward with a brutish amount of force when the vehicle is suddenly t-boned, the front of a black suv indented into the side of your door. Glass explodes everywhere, and your head collides with something hard, knocking your vision black. 

  The last thing you hear is a gruff voice ordering someone to pull your body from the car. 

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

  You don’t know how long you were floating in the black abyss, but when your eyes flutter open to a bright fluorescent light, you’re sure it was a while based on the throbbing in your skull. It takes a long moment for your eyes to adjust to the brightness of the strange room you’re in, but the anxiety hits as soon as you realise you’re in an unknown location, arms tied to the back of a chair with thick, rough rope. It’s biting into your arms, rubbing the skin raw and tears prick at your eyes. Your body aches, and there are various scratches littering your arms and legs. Head shooting around to look for a way to escape, your body jolts in fear when the door to the room opens. 

  “Ah, you’re awake. Take a nice nap?” The voice is nasally, and you recoil in fear of the unknown man looming over your sat body. 

  “W-who are you?” Your voice is scratchy and raw, wavering with anxiety. Salty tears leak from your eyes before you can stop them.

  He coos mockingly, leaning forward with his hands on his knees so that he’s level with your frightened face. 

  “Aw, don’t cry baby. Don’t want Hongjoongs little heart to break when he sees his bitch crying, huh?” He smirked evilly.

  Your eyes widen, “How do you know Hongjoong? Where is he?” You shoot forward, desperately trying to break free from your constraints. 

 Mysterious man leans back quickly, chuckling darkly. He slowly walks to a drawer near the entrance, pulling out a video camera. 

  “Your boyfriend’s caused quite a lot of trouble for us. Killed a good number of our men, stole a good chunk of our hard earned money. Doesn’t seem fair, does it?” He asks, tone condescending. “Mm, no, not fair at all.” He confirms his statement with a rough shove to the opened cabinet.

  The way he shuts the drawer is aggressive, the loud noise has you jolting, chest tightening. 

  “Hongjoong wouldn’t do something like that, h-he…” your breathing is ragged, head spinning. The man stalks over to you slowly, camera in hand. 

  “Guess you don’t know your Hongjoong as well as you thought you did, hm?” He smiles, clicking a button to turn the camcorder on. 

  “Smile, baby. Show us the smile he loves so much.” He grips your cheeks harshly, pushing them together with a brute force that has your teeth gritting, eyes burning with tears. 

  “P-please let me go, I don’t know what’s going on…” you sob, and he spits.

  “Let me break it down for you, bitch. Captain wants to take something precious from us, we take something precious from him.” He stands back, camera pointing in your face. He raises his hand, and you flinch.

  Then, he backhands you, the collision causing a warmth to flood your mouth and your head to whip to the right. Blood floods your mouth and you realise he split your lip with the impact. 

  You groan, skin raw and you spit the blood out slightly, shocked from the sudden slap.

  The door opens abruptly, you hear a voice beckoning to the man in the room.

  “Jake, Sam is here. He said he wants her outside.” He says rushed.

The man who slapped you, Jake, groans. 

  He looks at you. “We’re going to untie you. You try anything, I put a bullet in that pretty little head of yours, got it?” 

  You nod silently, mouth still sore. At this point, you couldn’t drop the tears from spilling down your face. 

  His hands work roughly to untie your arms, but he keeps your wrists bound. The camera is still rolling, still in his hand. A hand wraps itself around your upper arm in order to guide you out of the room, it’s pressure bruising and you’d wince if you weren’t so scared.

  Jake drags you down a long corridor, and you realise you’re in some sort of abandoned office building, on the part of town where most of the buildings have been forgotten. He shoves you near the stairwell, but your shoes catch, causing you to fall and land on your knees. Since you can’t use your hands to break your fall, your torso falls forward and your chin busts into the ground. 

  “Fucking useless bitch.” He hoists you up, roughly pulling you into a standing position. When your chin hit the ground, it caused you to bite your tongue roughly and you once again felt blood seeping into your mouth. You have the urge to spit it in his face, but you swallow it down, obviously overpowered. 

  You’re trembling as he rushes you down several flights of stairs, before you finally step onto the ground floor. The man once again drags you by your arm, pulling you through the reception area, through a door that leads to the side of the building. There, you spot a black van in the abandoned parking lot, and the side door slides open to reveal both Jaehyun and Wooyoung tied with a gag in their mouths. 

  “Jaehyun, Woo-!” You’re silenced when Jake yanks you by your hair. “Shut the fuck up.” 

  You scream silently at the painful sensation. He forces you to your knees just in front of the side of the van. 

  Wooyoung and Jaehyun look livid, tense bodies bloodied slightly, you’re guessing from the accident. You pray, never being much of a religious person, but you felt hopeless in this current moment. God was the only one who could help you now, you felt.

  Just then, a figure steps out of the passenger side of the van, it’s revealed to be Sam Lee, the man from the bar before. Your body feels cold with dread, like someone just threw your body in a subarctic lake. 

  He’s carrying a bag of something, you’re not quite sure what. He walks over to you, crouching down to meet your eye. The bag is set between the two of you, but you don’t look down at it. 

  He looks frightening, eyes holding something dark and he’s obviously a little loose in the head. He grins.

  “Hello, miss bartender.” The way his voice is so eerily calm has you trembling. 

  “What do you want from me?” You ask, voice coming out as a whisper. You were so, so confused. Lost. you had no idea why any of this was happening and you willed your heart rate to calm itself. Did Hongjoong really kill people? Did he really steal money from them? Your eyes are red and brimmed with tears and your mouth has dried blood crusting at the corners, numb with the thought that the man you had grown infatuated with was a murderer. And now you were about to be killed for his mistakes. 

  “Hm, to the point. I like that.” he commends, and you bristle.

His hand reaches to the bag, unzipping it slowly to reveal several different types of knives, a gun, and several razor blades. A dread festers itself in your gut, and you’re sure you’re going to die. 

  “Allow me to introduce myself.” He says simply. A statement, not a request.

 “I’m Sam Lee. Perhaps you’ve heard of me, perhaps not in the best light thanks to the little lap dog over there. Your little boyfriend and I have quite a history, you see. Knew each other since diapers, grew up in the same foster home. We were always close, helping each other survive in that hell hole. Like real brothers.” He sighs, eyes steely. 

  Hongjoong grew up in the system? Suddenly your heart hurt for him despite the knowledge that he was potentially a killer.

  “He was charming, knew how to talk, a real business man. I was intelligent and knew how to run from authority if needed. We decided we could make something of ourselves, something big, if we just combined our strengths.” He explains, examining his tools calmly. His voice is level and you furrow your brows. Something…big? Did Hongjoong really kill people?

  “And damn, did we. Between smuggling millions of dollars worth of illegal weapons and offing major branches of power in this town, we accumulated wealth beyond comprehension, we were filthy fucking rich. Had an army of loyal workers, who worshipped us. Wooyoungie there was our right hand man, you know. But, you know what comes with wealth and power?” He asks, and when you don’t respond, he grins. 

  “Greed.” With that, he picks up a small knife from the plethora of weapons, and plunges it into your upper thigh. A scream rips its way out of your throat, agony overtaking your body. You sob, cursing as the blood begins pouring from your leg. You begin to hyperventilate, and Sam sucks his teeth, shushing you. 

  “Hongjoong decided he didn’t like the way I ran things anymore. Fearing I had lost myself to the money, that I didn’t care about a partnership anymore, rather a tyranny. But what is humanity worth in a world like that? He turned against me. So, I turned my people against him. He wanted to leave? I’d make sure he didn’t have anyone to run to.” He grits out.

  “He betrayed me. Wanted to walk away from everything we had built from the fucking ground. I’d figured he would come crawling back sooner or later, but when I instead found dozens of my men had been killed by some club owner in Seoul and his partners, I knew he hadn’t planned to come back. He’d planned to take me out.” He spits, vengeful. Suddenly, you understood.

  Anger filled your body. Hongjoong wasn’t evil, Sam was. He’d tried to drag Hongjoong down with him. You knew Hongjoong was simply running from that life, eager to disconnect from the ways of murdering and smuggling. He’d gotten mixed up in the life of crime, but you knew Hongjoong’s heart. He was kind and considerate, loved people and never once would hurt someone without justifiable reason. Your heart ached. You spit in Sam’s face. 

 “You’re a fucking coward.” Your tone is uneven, with a combination of pain and rage. 

Sam snarls. 

  “Lay her down.” He commands Jake, and your heart thumps painfully against your ribcage. Jake forces you onto your back, and you struggle against his arms. Jake shoved the camera in your face, laughing maniacally at your rage filled expression.

  “I try to be understanding, kind! But you’re all so fucking ungrateful.” He seethes, stepping over you and crouching so that he is looming over your torso.

  “It’s a shame you’re so cute, really. Shame I have to cut up this pretty skin.” He growls, shoving your shirt to your bra line, and you scream out.

  He snaps at you to shut your mouth, threading a hand through your hair and smashing your head against the pavement. You groan, lights dancing in your vision and you blink to rid your eyes of the blurriness. Skull throbbing, you inhale sharply.

  He picks up a razor blade, and tells Jake to gag you. You’re powerless against the hand shoving material in your mouth, dazed.

  “This’ll hurt, darling.” He coos.

You pray. Begging that it’s quick. That Hongjoong doesn’t find you dead. That you meet him once again. 

Just as the blade is about to carve into your abdomen, gunshots sound from behind Sam. His head whips around only to find Wooyoung and Jaehyun free from their constraints, fighting the men that were guarding the vans.

  Sam curses, drops the blade, tucks the gun from the bag in his waistband, and hoists you up, dragging you somewhere but your head was throbbing so harshly it was difficult to tell where. 

  You’re alone with Sam, you figure Jake stayed behind to try and restrain Wooyoung and Jaehyun. 

  Sam drags you up several flights of stairs, your foot catching occasionally which has him cursing at you to hurry. He slams through a door open and shoves you forward. You land on the roof, arms still tied behind your back, shoulder crashing into the ground. You’re in so much pain it’s practically paralysing, but you will yourself to hold on. You roll onto your side and cough, Sam walks over to and kneels, spitting in your face. 

  “Always causing trouble.” He growls, but thankfully doesn’t touch you otherwise. 

“Hongjoong w-will come after you. Kill me all you w-want. You’re not going to get away with it.” You spit with the little energy you have left. 

“I’d suggest you stop talking,” He grits, “Unless you want me to cave your pretty little face in.”

He stands, sliding his phone out of his pocket and tapping on the screen. He brings it up to his ear and you hear him arguing with someone on the phone. He sounds angry, thrashing his hands in every which direction. 

  “The fuck do you mean he’s not there? Bastard’s supposed to be with you in Tokyo!” Your ears perk up at the fuzzy words.

  Were they talking about him?

“Well fucking find him then! How can you not know whe- '' Sam is cut off by a loud door being thrown open, your eyes shooting to where a very dishevelled, absolutely livid Hongjoong stands. His eyes dart around, before landing on your bruised, bleeding form. He snarls, spotting Sam and lunges forward. 

  Sam is thrown off balance, tumbling to the ground with Hongjoong on top of him, driving his fist into Sam’s face. Sam thrashes, trying to escape Hongjoong’s attacks, but he’s soon bludgeoned into fuzzy consciousness, eyes rolling to the back of his head, blood pouring from his nose and mouth. 

  “Hongjoong…” You whimper, in disbelief that the man was in front of your very eyes. You choke on a sob. He whips his head in your direction, eyes ablaze with an indistinguishable emotion, scrambling over to you in order to cradle your head in his hands. 

  “Baby, fuck…look at me…shh..” He coos softly, voice trembling with adrenaline. He rakes his hands over your body, taking in your injuries and their severity. A curse leaves his lips when he notices the wound on your thigh oozing blood slightly. He unties your hands quickly, pulling you into a warm embrace.

  You sob into his shirt as you cling onto him, inhaling the familiar scent that has you calming, despite the excruciating pain your body is in. 

 “I l-love you.” You sob and he envelopes you further, trying to push his heart as close to yours as he could. 

  “I know, baby. I love you, I love you. I’m here now, you're alright.” His heart is pounding against his ribcage and you could feel the rhythmic beating against your own chest. 

  You pull back and grab his face in your hands, and he crushes your lips together. The kiss is passionate, and he grips onto you, scared to ever let you go. His lips are soft, pillowy and tears stream down your face. Teeth clash and he licks into your mouth, desperate to pour the love he’d been repressing into the kiss. Years of emotions fueling his lips.

   He breaks away momentarily to gaze at you, cradling your jaw in admiration, leaning his forehead against your own.

  There’s so much emotion swimming in his eyes, gazing at you like you held the moon and stars. You’d realised now, you were unexplainably, intensely in love with him. The way he made you feel, so comfortable and warm. You wanted to be with him, and you knew now, he wanted to be with you as well. 

  The moment is shattered when you see a glint of something out of the corner of your eye, turning your head to see Sam’s bloody face twisted into a snarl, the gun he’d tucked into his waistband now aimed at Hongjoong’s back. You gasp, and shove Hongjoong out of the line of the gun with any energy you have left in you.

  It happened practically in slow motion, Hongjoong screaming, the sound of a gunshot, and the excruciating pain that explodes in your lower abdomen. 

  You don’t feel it when you fall to the ground. The distant sound of Hongjoong’s men flooding the rooftop can be heard, gunshots and screaming erupting all around you.

  Hongjoong screams at you to open your eyes, pressing his fingers into the wound in your abdomen that was flooding so much blood it made him hyperventilate. 

  “Please y/n! Stay with me please! Fuck, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, why would you do that…!” He was sobbing, cradling you to his chest.

  “I love you, please…” 

The last thing you feel is Hongjoongs tears on your cheeks and lips pressed against your forehead before you fade into darkness.

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  The sound of muffled muttering lulls you out of your sleep slowly, but the sharp ache in your abdomen rips you away from the bliss of the dreamless sleep entirely. Your eyes flutter, attempting desperately to adjust to the bright light above you. 

  Your eyes rake around the room, and you find you’re in a bedroom. It’s decorated lavishly, your body currently laying a king sized bed with expensive silk sheets encompassing your body. You assume this is Hongjoongs apartment. An iv is hooked up to the back of your left hand, and you groan when you try to move.

  You spot a young man beside you, readjusting the iv drip. When he sees that you’re awake, he smiles. 

  “Oh, you’re awake. How are you feeling?” He asks softly. 

“Like I got shot.” You groan out, voice hoarse. “I thought I died.” You whisper, eyes squeezing shut. 

  He nods sympathetically. “I did my best to save you. You lost a lot of blood, there. Didn’t make my job easy.” He chuckles. “I refilled your drip with more painkillers, so that should settle in here soon.” 

  You smile softly. “Thank you…” 

“My name is Seonghwa, I’m a doctor and friend of Hongjoong’s.” He explains, and the mention of Hongjoong has your heart skipping. Seonghwa stifles a grin at your expression before turning slightly towards the door. 

  “I’ll go let him know you’re awake. He’s been an emotional wreck for three days.” He explains. You mutter a soft thanks, and he’s then exiting the room with a gentle click of the door. 

  You were out for three days.

Your eyes drift shut in fatigue, until you hear the door reopen once again. Hongjoong is by your side immediately, taking your hand in his own trembling one. 

  “‘Joong…” You whisper, a smile gracing your lips. He looks worried, his eyebrows furrowed and the skin of his lips is chapped, like he’d been picking at it nervously. 

“I’m so…so relieved you’re alive. How do you feel?” His voice is hoarse, and there are deep purple circles underneath his eyes, which are brimmed with crimson. He looks thin, and you wonder if he’s eaten or slept since the incident. 

“I feel fine now. Where’s…where’s Sam?” You ask, anxious. 

Hongjoong grits, “Dead. Wooyoung killed him. He’s long gone, baby.” He says through a breath, and you know he’s just as relieved as you are, if not more.

  “I’m so angry at you. What the fuck were you thinking?” He whispers, tears brimming his eyes, his voice sounds pained. “I could have lost you.” 

Seeing his eyes well has your own stinging. “I had to save you, ‘Joong. I couldn’t handle it if you died.” 

“You think I could?” He sighs, kissing the back of your hand. “I was in agony seeing you on that ground, bleeding out. Don’t ever do something like that again, you hear me?” He demands sternly, and you nod, choked.

  He leans down to connect your lips, it’s gentle and sweet, but there’s urgency behind his kiss. He almost lost you, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t show you just how much you mean to him, fear and boundaries be damned. You whimper, overwhelmed with your love for him, and slowly raise your hand to cup his cheek. Your lips softly together, and you feel his tears against your cheek. Thumb swiping them away. 

  Hongjoong pulls away softly, and raises. “I have a surprise for you.” 

You groan. “You don’t have to spoil me anymore, ‘Joong. We’re beyond that point.”

  He chuckles, head ducking to hide his amused grin. “You’ll like this one, trust me.”

With a sigh, you nod, relenting. 

He leaves the room for a moment, and the curiosity of what he has for you nearly kills you.

The moment he returns with someone else in tow however, has you scrambling to a sitting position. Wooyoung enters holding a giant ball of pale fluff, and you gasp watery. 

  “Milo.” Your cat meows loudly at seeing you, nearly tearing his way out of Wooyoung’s arms to join you on the bed. He nudges your hand with his head and you coo through misty eyes.

  “Thank you, guys. So much.” 

Wooyoung doesn’t respond, simply launches himself into your side, face buried in your neck. He’s sobbing dramatically and you have to stop yourself from giggling.

  “Bitch, I thought you fucking died! My god I lost 5 years off my life, i’m not kidding. Look at this grey hair you gave me, look at it.” He points to a random spot on his inky black head, and you sniffle.

  “I think I see three.” You respond, smiling softly.

 He squawks, running over to the vanity mirror to check for himself. Hongjoong rolls his eyes, sitting in the chair next to the bed, and enveloping your hand in his, admiring the way Milo curls in your lap. 

  He’s gazing at you warmly, full of emotion and when you meet his eyes, your stomach does somersaults. 

“Hey, what did I tell you? That’s not platonic, huh? Just friends hanging out.” Wooyoung snickers to himself. You bellow out a laugh, and Hongjoong looks absolutely lost. 

  The three of you spend time talking things over, the two explaining their entire history to you, clearing up any loose ends and your heart aches for the two. They’d been the only two to stick together and leave Sam behind, starting a new life for themselves. One that involved gaining wealth the correct way, through hard work and patience. They’d opened a club, which then turned into three when it became so successful, then ten, then countless locations across Korea until they were the biggest names in the business. Hongjoong and Wooyoung had been through so much together, it was really beautiful to hear how they’d changed their lives around.

  Wooyoung decided to give the two of you some privacy, throwing a quick use protection over his shoulder when slipping out the door, you guffaw at his crassness. 

Hongjoong shakes his head and the two of you fall into a comfortable silence, his head laying on the bed next to your body, hand tangled in your own . That is, until he yawns in exhaustion.

  “You’ve got to eat and get some rest, ‘Joong.” You whisper, and he nods. 

“I know. I just don’t want to leave you.” He’s being vulnerable with you, and it makes your heart throb with strong emotion.

  “Order something, we can eat and then you can have a nap with me.” The offer is too good for him to refuse.

  Thirty minutes later, the two of you are munching happily on takeout. The both of you are way too famished to hold conversation, so you opt just to simply enjoy each other's company while you eat.When you finish, he disposes of the trash, and he curls underneath the silk blankets, worming his arm underneath your neck in order to pull your body into his. Milo is laying at your feet, and you feel serene. Sleep holds the both of you in its warm embrace, Hongjoong resting peacefully for the first time since he can remember, tranquil knowing you’re safe in his arms.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

  The next few days are spent at Hongjoong’s apartment. He refused to let you leave, even when Seonghwa confirmed you could leave the apartment, Hongjoong insisting he couldn’t be away from you quite yet. He’d taken off work for a while, the club closed temporarily to fix the damages caused by Sam and his men. You’d spend all day in Hongjoongs arms, or in his bed. However, one singular problem weighs on your shoulders. Showering. You’d, of course, take baths, but it was a bit difficult to keep the bandage from getting wet, while also thoroughly getting yourself clean.

  Seonghwa had removed the bandage, as well as the stitches today, thus you were fully able to shower now. You were ecstatic, you hadn’t felt fully squeaky clean since the morning of the incident. 

  Hongjoong has insisted on monitoring you, and your cheeks flush when he offers to join you in the bathroom. 

  “But…I’ll be naked.” You argue. Hongjoong cocks a brow, confused. “And that is supposed to deter me, because…?” His tone is teasing, but you feel shy nonetheless.

  “I just…I don’t know. It makes me nervous.” Your fingers are wringing together with nerves, he nods in understanding.

  “And that’s alright. I love you, I want to be there in case you need help.” He responds, comfortable with whatever you decide.

  Thus, here you were. The shower was running, Hongjoong turning the faucet to a nice deep warmth. You’re still fully clothed, standing in the mirror, toying with the end of your shirt. It’s a bit ironic, you’d been confident enough to send him lingerie pictures, but being naked in front of him was a new can of worms, and your gut rolled with nervousness.

 However, you decided to just rip the bandaid off in one fell swoop, lifting the shirt up and over your head, leaving you bare from the hips up. You refuse to meet Hongjoong’s eyes in the reflection, scared to ser his reaction to your nude body. The shorts you were wearing slide off next, leaving you in a pair of cotton red undies. 

  Before you can remove those as well, you feel Hongjoong come to stand behind you, the warmth of his chest felt against the bare skin of your back. Eyes slowly moving to meet his in the reflection of the mirror, and your breath catches in your throat at the way he’s gazing at you. There’s an angry scar on your abdomen and left thigh, a few freckles and stretch marks scattered across your skin, a few pudges and softness, but he’s gazing at you like you’re the most beautiful person in the world. His lips drop to your left shoulder, grazing his lips across the soft skin. He peppers kisses along the slope of your shoulders and neck, you shiver when he nips at a certain spot behind your ear.

  Hands softly massage the skin of your waist, and he nuzzles his face into your neck. A sigh leaves his nose, the warm air has goosebumps rising over your skin.

  “I love you.” He whispers. The tone had your gut clenching. 

 “I love you.” You whisper back.

  You turn in his arms, sliding your bare arms under the Balenciaga hoodie he currently has on, feeling the ridges of his soft muscles, his skin tensing at the contact. You lift the fabric up and over his head, and he eagerly allows you. As you’re working to remove his pants, he surges forward to capture your lips in a heated kiss.

  He backs you up until you’re leaned against the counter, licking into your mouth expertly. The change in his mood has a heat flooding your panties, a whine leaving your lips.

 He grinds into you, the thick heaviness of his arousal can be felt prominently through the thin layer of your underwear. His hands feel their way across your body greedily, memorizing every inch, divot and curve. 

  He pulls away quickly, breathless, and hastily removes his sweatpants, then your panties. Your wrist is gently captured in his large hand, painted nails tapping on your pulsepoint with excitement and lust.

  Hongjoong pulls you into the shower, under the steaming stream of water, the water soaking both of your hair, and he swipes it out of your face before capturing your lips once more. This time, it’s impossibly more heated, a clashing of tongue and teeth. It’s sloppy and needy, and a groan leaves his lips when you tug slightly at the hair on the nape of his neck. 

 “You’re so,” a peck, “Beautiful.” He sighs, peppering kisses down the length of your neck, nipping and biting as he goes on. Your skin erupts in beautiful purple flowers, a blush warming your cheeks from the steamy water and his heated gaze. 

  “Touch me, please.” You whisper out, a gentle plea. He nods quickly, pecking your lips once more before trailing his hand to your right breast, thumb rolling over your nipple gentle, before pinching it softly in between his fingers. Head swooping down, he captures the bud into his mouth, laving over it lovingly. Your head lolls back in a moan, the feeling of his hands and mouth on your chest has your core fluttering. 

  Hongjoongs fingers graze down your abdomen, careful to avoid your scar, and a fingertip dips in between your folds. You groan loudly, the sound echoing slightly in the spacious shower. His fingers expertly massage your wetness, avoiding your clit until you whine out, impatient with his teasing. He removes his fingers entirely, and your eyebrows furrow.

  That is, until he kneels, face level with your cunt and you’re keening once again. His breath is hot against you, tongue experimentally laving over your clit in a bold stripe, before delving in with vigor, it’s hot and heavy and your toes curl almost painfully.

  Fingers are trailing up your thighs, rubbing the plush skin soothingly, careful to avoid the injured skin, as he licks into your pussy, groaning when you grip onto his hair for stability. “F-fuck, Hongjoong…” you sigh out, and you meet his eyes. His pupils are blown, eyes glassy as he watches the way you grind yourself on his tongue, desperate to reach your climax. He reaches a hand down to stroke his length, easing some of the ache he feels. The hand that is massaging the pillowy skin of your uninjured thigh finds itself prodding at your entrance, before slipping a single finger in. It meets absolutely no resistance as it slides into your heat, walls gripping the intrusion tightly.

  “Tight little cunt. Gripping me like a fucking vice…” he groans out, hooking the digit, massaging the spongey part expertly. He dips another finger in, stretching you slightly with an experimental scissor of his fingers. You moan, wanton and guttural and the sound goes straight to his cock. He finds that your needy noises have him massaging with more vigor, and he reattaches his mouth to your clit, swirling his tongue, sucking slightly. He feels carnal, he’s not going to stop until you’re shaking.

  “Right there, please…y-yes! Oh my god.” The noises you’re making are absolutely filthy, and you’d be embarrassed if you weren’t absolutely fucked out on his fingers. There’s a scalding heat working itself deep in your belly, you find yourself plummeting towards it increasingly fast, barely being able to ground yourself.

  It only takes a few more hooks of his skillful fingers before your cunt flutters around them, your legs shake as you cum, swollen lips parting in a silent scream. Hongjoong massages your hip with gentle squeezes, coaxing you through your orgasm with sweet whispered praises. When he feels the fluttering cease, and your breathing regulate, he stands and captures your mouth in a messy kiss. You taste your release in his tongue, and you groan into his mouth. 

  “So good for me. You did so well.” 

He squirts some soap onto a loofah, and begins cleaning your body. He’s careful to avoid your sensitive nipples, before swiping the soap along your inner thighs to wash away your release. It feels so good to be doted on, cared for. Your heart is full of love for him. He washes and conditions your hair, before cleaning himself. The two of you stand under the water for a short time, embracing, until the water runs cold. He shuts the stream off, wrapping a fuzzy towel around your shoulders, mirroring you with his own. You realize he didn’t get to finish earlier, and you find yourself asking. 

  “What about you? Let me help you…” but he simply shakes his head.

  “This is about you, I don’t care if I cum or not. Seeing you like that is enough for me.” His words are sweet, but you pout nonetheless.

  The two of you dry off, clambering back into bed, nude, deciding to forgo clothes. It's not like you needed them. Clean and warm, the two of you drift in and out of sleep, cuddled together. 

  It’s the next morning when you wake fully, only to find the area next to you is vacant and cold. Brows furrowing, you sit up. It’s difficult to stop the gradual thumping up your heart against your ribcage in anxiety. Where’d he go?

  Sliding out of the bed, your bare feet pad along the concrete floor, in search of Hongjoong. You slip out of the bedroom door, spotting him standing at the kitchen island. You release a breath of relief at the sight of him. He’s wearing a pair of black joggers low on his hips, and he’s shirtless. The silky honey blonde hair is pulled into a high loose bun, stray pieces falling into his eyes. Milo is perched on the counter, and Hongjoong is scraping cat food into his bowl quietly, as to not wake you, you’re assuming. He’s murmuring unintelligibly to Milo, and the sight has you giggling. 

  His head shoots up at the sound, eyes raking over your still nude form. He smiles in adoration. 

  “Morning, baby.” He sets the bowl down for Milo, before washing his hands and padding over to you. Your lips are sweet when they meet his, and it has him groaning. 

  You pull away, he whines, your hand clasping around his wrist and coaxing him back to the bedroom. 

  When you close the door behind you, you splay a hand across his chest, pushing gently until he lands with a soft oof on the bed. 

  With legs on both sides of him, you straddle his hips and link your fingers behind his head, peppering kisses along his neck and jaw. A gentle grind has him grumbling deep in his chest, hands finding purchase on your hips to stabilize you. 

  “I love you…” you sigh, feeling him hardening slightly under you.

  “Slow…” he whispers when your hips get particularly excited. You nuzzle your face in his neck, rocking your hips gently back and forth, feeling the heaviness grow beneath your heat, a thin layer keeping you from what you really want. 

  He flips you over gently, trailing kisses down your body, making it to your abdomen before you wrap your hands around his jaw to guide his lips back to your own. You connect your lips in a heated kiss, his hips grind into yours at the felling of your tongue teasing his own. 

  You groan, reaching upwards to shimmy his pants down past his ass, nails scratching slightly at the skin. Hongjoong shivers. He prepares to dip a finger between your folds to stretch you, but you’re stopping him with an eager hand around his wrist. 

  “I don’t need it.” You hastily breathe out. His eyebrows shoot up. 

  “You sure?” He questions, voice strained. He’s trying to be a gentleman, be patient and take his time, but the way your legs lock around his hips has all manners and etiquette disappearing from his brain.

 You nod. “I’ve been ready since last night, make love to me.” You gently demand. 

  He smirks, “Yes, ma’am.” 

He spits in your palm, and gently guides your hand to stroke him, he’s thick in your gentle grip and his tip appears red and angry. A guttural groan leaves him at the feeling of your warm, soft hand wrapped around where he needs you the most.

  Your arousal coats the shaft of his cock when he ruts back and forth, length nestled comfortably between your folds, further lubricating his length. He’s not overly large, perfect for you and you grow impatient at his teasing. 

  Before you can open your mouth to say anything, he quickly eases himself inside you, stretching past your fluttering walls, making you moan needily. He bottoms out, a shuddering breath leaving him at the feeling of your walls gripping him. 

  “Already knew you’d have a smart ass remark.” He breathes a chuckle, and you whine. You want him to move. He gently rocks his hips in an experimental move when you angle your pelvis to urge him on, it has you keening. 

 “Yes, ‘Joong, like that…” You sigh. Pure unadulterated pleasure courses through you. 

  He pulls his length out completely, then sheaths hostil himself fully inside you with a hard thrust. He repeats the movement for a moment, before splaying his hands across your hips and snapping his own into yours at a bruising pace. It’s unexpected and has your hands scrambling for stability, gripping around the sheets near your head so hard your knuckles turn white. A choked moan tears itself from your throat at the feeling of his cock stretching you deliciously. One of his hands trails up your torso, gently squeezing your breast, before thumbing your bottom lip, running the pad of his finger over the soft skin. Your lips open, enveloping the finger and laving your tongue over it with hooded eyes, breathy moans leaving you with every thrust. He growls, seeing red at the sight of your tongue wrapped skillfully around his red painted thumbnail. 

  He leans down, to capture your lips in a peck before flipping you onto your stomach gently. You yelp, giggling before it dissolves into a moan when you feel him slowly re enter you, this angle had you taking him so much deeper. You’re unable to keep quiet, the ridges of his veins massaging your walls expertly.

  “F-f-f-u-uck-k…!” you’re stuttering with every thrust, gasping for leverage with his brutal pace.

  “I fucking love you so much, you feel so good, so warm and wet around me.” He whispers into your hair, hand wrapping around your throat gently, pulling your body upwards so that your back was flush with his chest, sticky skin melding together. 

  The pressure on your throat makes you lightheaded, deliciously making your pussy more sensitive. He whines when a particularly hard thrust makes you clamp around him.

  He maneuvers you so that you’re on your knees, chest still flush against him, and he reaches around your body to toy with your clit. The pads of his fingers expertly massage the bundle of nerves and your head drops back onto his shoulder.

  The hand around your throat drops onto your left breast, tweaking the nipple, overstimulation making the peaks hypersensitive.

  You’re babbling nonsense, tears springing to your eyes and he turns your jaw to capture your lips in a messy kiss, panting into each other's mouths as he rocks into you, hips rutting into your ass. 

  “Wanna feel you come for me, give it to me please, please, please…” he pleads, desperate to feel you cream on his cock.

  At his words, your muscles tense, cunt gripping him so tight it was borderline painful, he stills completely as you let go for him, foregoing massaging your clit in favor of biting into your shoulder, stifling a groan when your legs start shaking uncontrollably.

  “F-fuck…!” You bite, and he whines with you. 

 “Fuck, yes…god, you’re so good to me.” He whispers into your hair, kissing the side of your head. You’re panting, desperate to catch your breath, and you feel him slip his cock from your cunt, turning you so that you’re once again on your back. He wants to see your face, to gaze into your eyes and show you how much you mean to him. Money and contracts be damned, he let himself fall for you fully, fear no longer holding him back from diving headfirst into your love. 

  You look ethereal under him, flushed cheeks and chest, glossy lips and blown out pupils. You look fucked out, beautiful. 

  “My beautiful baby.” He peppers kisses across your cheeks, kissing your lips as he thrusts back into your abused folds gently. You wince at the over sensitivity, but it immediately melts into pleasure when you see how desperately he’s rutting into you, desperate to reach a release. You thread your fingers through his next to your head, eyes meeting his own. 

  “Come for me ‘Joong, please…please give it to me.” You whisper heatedly, craving to make him feel how he makes you. You’re overwhelmed, chest full at the sight of him. His cheeks are flushed, muscles tense and skin glistening with a slight layer of perspiration. You plant whispers of kisses along his neck, before capturing his earlobe between your teeth, whispering sweetness into his ear. 

 A groan rips from his throat, guttural and sexy. “Fuck… fuck!” His jaw falls slack, cheeks flushing. He pulls out, ropes of his release coating the mound of your pussy, and you both groan in amazement at the sight of him. He pants, pushing the hair off his sweaty forehead, leaning forward to kiss you sweetly. “I love you…” leaves his lips in a sigh. 

  Your eyes are teary, and you’re shivering with overstimulation, and he rubs your back as you come down, shushing you sweetly. For a moment, you don’t even notice he’d gone to the bathroom until you feel a warm cloth wiping his release from your mound and inner thighs. A content hum leaves you. 

  “Thank you.” It’s a whisper, but he hears you just fine. Planting a kiss on your forehead. He disposes of the rag, climbing back into bed moments later, covering the both of you with the silk duvet. 

  You lie comfortably in each other’s arms, hands roaming affectionately across one another's body. Your fingertips hover his jugular, feeling his pulse under the flesh. His eyes close in serenity, images of your freckled, soft skin paying behind his eyelids.

  Hands continue mapping out the stars, the mountains, and pools of honey well into the evening and inky black night, encapsulated by the strum of pleasant heart beats. A smile graces the two lovers lips, a silent promise and a mutual understanding that the love they hold for each other was stronger than any obstacle.

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