Summary: Five years ago, Mingi had to make a choiceâbetween you and his career. Back then, he chose his career, which soared rapidly afterward. Famous, beloved, celebrated all over the world. You, on the other hand, were left behindâalone, broken, and hurt. And as fate would have it, you meet again, and things take an unexpected turnâŠ
a/n: Everyone, the story is continuing, and weâre making great progress toward the end! There are only one or two chapters left, plus I have a hilarious bonus chapter planned for you! Thank you all so much for your likes, comments, and reblogsâthey mean a lot to me!
Chapter 8
âIâm not hiding anything.â
âYou are absolutely hiding something.â
âIâm literally not.â
âYou flinched like your life depended on that coat staying on.â
âIt does not.â
âIt does.â
âIt does not!â
He reaches for the coat again. You grab it tightly, holding it closed like your dignity depends on it.(Actually, It does.) Wooyoung gasps dramatically.
âYouâre not wearing anything under there, are you?â
You choke.
âI AM WEARING THINGS.â
âWhat kind of things?â
âNormal things!â
âThat was not convincing.â
You try to move past him again. He sidesteps. Still smiling. Still very entertained.
âWho are you here for?â he asks knowingly.
âNo one.â
âNo one.â
âYes.â
âSo you just came here, dressed like a mystery, to see no one.â
âCorrect.â
âWow,â he says, nodding. âMakes total sense.â
You glare at him. Youâre so fucked.
âI have business here.â
âWith who?â
ââŠPeople.â
âName one.â
ââŠNo.â
He laughs. Actually laughs.
âThis is the worst lie Iâve ever heard.â
âThank you.â
âIâm impressed, honestly.â
âCan I go now?â
âNot until I figure out whatâs under the coat.â
âYou will not.â You step back.
âI will.â
âYou will not!â
He suddenly reaches againâfaster this time. You squeakâactually squeakâand spin away, clutching the coat tighter.
âWOOYOUNG!â
âI KNEW IT,â he shouts, pointing at you like he just solved a crime. âYou are hiding something!â
âThis is sexual harassment!â
âThis is curiosity!â
âThis is illegal!â
âThis is interesting!â
You back up until you hit the wall. Trapped. He leans in slightly, eyes sparkling with mischief.
ââŠIs this for Mingi?â he asks, lowering his voice. You freeze.
Thatâs all the confirmation he needs. His grin turns devilish.
âOh, this is definitely for Mingi.â
âItâs not.â
âIt is.â
âItâs not!â
âYouâre blushing.â
âI am not!â
âYou are!â
Before you can argue furtherâ A door down the hall opens. Speak of the devil. Mingi steps out. Mid-sentence, talking to someone behind him. Mingi stares at you. You stare at Mingi. Wooyoung looks between the two of you like he just hit the jackpot.
ââŠWhy is she here?â Wooyoung repeats amused. Your brain? Empty. Gone. Evaporated.
âIâuhââ you start.
âMeeting,â Mingi cuts in quickly.
You both pause. Wooyoung raises an eyebrow.
âMeeting?â
âYes,â Mingi nods, way too fast. âImportant meeting.ââ WithâŠ?â Wooyoung asks, already smiling. Mingi gestures vaguely in your direction. âHer.â
Wooyoung looks at you. Then at him. Then back at you.
ââŠThatâs your explanation?â
âYes,â Mingi says firmly. âProfessional.â
You nod. Also too fast. âVery professional.â
Wooyoung slowly crosses his arms.
âAnd the outfit?â
Silence.
Mingi blinks. ââŠWhat outfit?â
Wooyoung gestures at you dramatically. âThe outfit. The coat. The heels. The fact that sheâs guarding that thing like it holds state secrets.â
Mingi laughs. Fake. Painfully fake.
âI donât know what youâre talking about.â
Wooyoung turns to you immediately. âOpen the coat.â
Time stops. You choke. âWhat?â
âOpen. The. Coat.â
Mingi steps forward instantly. âAbsolutely not.â You, at the exact same time: âAre you insane?!â
The synchronization is suspicious. Very suspicious. Wooyoungâs grin widens like this is the best day of his life.
âOh my god,â he breathes. âYouâre fucking each other, right?.â
âNo!â you snap.
âYes!â he fires back.
âSheâs justâcold!â Mingi adds.
âIn lingerie?â Wooyoung shoots back without missing a beat. Silence. Mingi freezes. You freeze.
ââŠWhat?â Mingi says slowly.
Wooyoung points at you. âSheâs definitely wearing something illegal under there.â
âITâS NOT ILLEGAL,â you blurt out. Another mistake.
Wooyoung gasps. âSo there is something!â
You slam your eyes shut for a second. Mingi drags a hand down his face.
âThis is going great,â he mutters.
âOpen it,â Wooyoung insists again, stepping closer. You take a step back. Mingi steps forward. You both look at him like he just asked you to jump off a cliff.
âNo,â Mingi says flatly.
âNo,â you echo.
Wooyoung looks between you again, delighted.
âYouâre both reacting like I asked you to cut off your feet.â
âBecause that would be less embarrassing,â you snap.
âSpeak for yourself,â Mingi mutters. Footsteps echo down the hallway. All three of you freeze. Voices getting closer. Mingiâs head snaps toward the sound.
ââŠOh, no,â he breathes.
Wooyoung turns slightly. âOh, itâs fineââ
âNo, itâs not fine,â Mingi cuts in, suddenly moving. Fast. Before either of you can react, he grabs your wristâand Wooyoungâs sleeveâ
âWhat are you doingââ Wooyoung starts, laughing and drags both of you down the hall.
âHeyâHEYââ you protest, trying not to lose your balance in heels. A door flies open. A small storage room. Before you can process anythingâ Mingi shoves both of you inside. The door shuts behind you with a quiet click. Dark. Tight. Way too small for three people. You stumble slightlyâstraight into Mingi. Wooyoung bumps into both of you from the other side. Now youâre all pressed together. Very. Very close. Mingi braces a hand against the wall, leaning in slightly, listening to the footsteps pass outside.
âDonât. Make. A. Sound,â he whispers sharply. Wooyoung, completely unfazed, leans in closer with a grin.
âWell,â he murmurs, clearly enjoying himself way too much, âthis is new.â
You try to move. You canât. There is nowhere to go. Your coat is still clutched tightly in your hands. Mingi is very aware of that. Wooyoung is even more aware.
ââŠYou know,â Wooyoung continues casually, glancing between you two in the dim light, âIâve always wondered how this would feel.â
Mingi turns his head slowly. âDonât.â
âBeing trapped in a tiny room with both of you?â Wooyoung finishes, ignoring him completely. âKinda lived up to the expectation.â
âWooyoung,â you warn.
âYes?â
âIf you touch this coat, I will end you.â
He laughs under his breath. âConfirmed. Definitely something under there.â
Mingi exhales quietly, forehead almost hitting the wall.
ââŠWe are so screwed,â he mutters.
Outside, the footsteps fade. Silence returns. Inside the storage roomâ not so silent. Because Wooyoung still smiling Still curious. Still absolutely not letting this go.
âOh, Iâm not done,â he whispers. Mingi closes his eyes.
ââŠI know.â
The storage room is still chaos. Still too small. Still somehow holding three grown people and a disaster-level secret. Mingi is pressed against the wall like heâs trying to merge with it. You are somewhere in the middle. Wooyoung is enjoying this way too much. He tilts his head at the two of you, completely casual.
âSo,â he says lightly, like theyâre talking about the weather, âhow long has this been going on?â
Silence.
Mingi reacts first. âWhatânoââ
You cut in immediately, too fast. âItâs not going on.â
Wooyoung hums. âRight.â He looks between you both again, unimpressed.
âYouâre both terrible liars.â
Mingi exhales sharply. âNothing is going on.â
Wooyoung nods slowly. âMhm.â
You try again, weaker this time. âWeâre notâtogether.â
âSure,â Wooyoung says instantly. Thatâs what makes it worse. Because he doesnât sound surprised. He sounds like heâs been waiting for confirmation.
Mingi narrows his eyes. ââŠYou knew.â
Wooyoung shrugs. âI suspected.â
âThatâs notââ you start.
âIt is,â he cuts in casually. âYou two have been acting weird for weeks. I just didnât know if I was allowed to say it out loud that you fucking like rabbits âŠagain.â
Mingi looks like he wants to disappear again. You sigh. Long. Defeated.
ââŠFine,â you admit quietly.
Mingi turns to you immediately. âWaitââ
You donât look at him.
âYes,â you continue. âItâs⊠happening.â
Wooyoung blinks.
Thenâ
his entire face lights up.
âOh my GOD,â he says, like he just won something. Before either of you can react, he throws his arms around both of you in the tightest, most chaotic hug imaginable. Mingi immediately chokes. âWOOYOUNGâ!â
You, on the other hand, freeze for half a secondâ
then let out a breath you didnât realize you were holding.
ââŠDonât make this weird,â you mutter, but you donât push him away.
Wooyoung ignores Mingi completely and squeezes you tighter.
âI KNEW IT,â he whispers dramatically. âI KNEW IT.â
Mingi is suffering. Very visibly. Because he is tall, strong, and currently being used as an unwilling human wall while Wooyoung clings to both of you like a koala with opinions.
âGet. Off,â Mingi grits out.
âNo,â Wooyoung says happily.
You glance up at Mingi.
ââŠHeâs not wrong,â you say quietly.
Mingi stares at you. Betrayal. Deep betrayal. Wooyoung leans his head slightly against your shoulder now, still smiling like a menace.
âThis is adorable,â he declares.
âIt is not,â Mingi snaps.
âIt kind of is,â Wooyoung insists.
You donât answer that. Because something about thisâstanding pressed between them, the chaos, the ridiculous secrecyâmakes your chest feel a little too warm for your own rules. So you just sigh again and lean back slightly into the only available space. Which unfortunately is still Mingi. He stiffens. Immediately. Wooyoung notices instantly.
âOh,â he says slowly, grinning. âWeâre doing this again?â
Mingi closes his eyes. âPlease stop talking.â
Wooyoung doesnât. Of course he doesnât. Instead, he shifts slightlyâstill glued to your side, still unbotheredâand then casually asks:
âSo what, red or black?â
You blink. âWhat?â
âUnderwear,â he says simply. âIâm just curious now.â
Mingi makes a sound like his soul is leaving his body.
âNo,â he says immediately. âNope. Thatâs where we stop. Thatâs the line. Thatâs the end of human civilization.â
You open your mouth to protestâ
then stop. Look at the situation. The closet. The arms. The chaos. Wooyoung grinning like a disaster. Mingi slowly losing his will to live. You exhale.
ââŠBlack,â you say finally, defeated.
Wooyoung gasps like youâve given him sacred knowledge. Mingi just stares at the ceiling of the closet. Completely done.
ââŠI hate both of you,â he mutters.
Wooyoung smiles brightly. âNo you donât.â
The moment in the storage room finally shifts from absolute chaos to something slightly more survivable. Mostly because Wooyoung eventually runs out of breath from laughing. He wipes his eyes, still grinning like heâs just won something extremely important.
âOkay,â he says, exhaling. âOkay, Iâm done. For now.â
Mingi straightens immediately. âGood. Then weâre leaving.â
You nod quickly. âYes. Leaving. Right now.â
Wooyoung leans back against the shelf one last time, clearly enjoying himself far too much.
âYouâre lucky Iâm in a good mood,â he says.
Mingi mutters, âWe are not lucky.â
You step toward the door carefully, like the hallway itself might expose you again. When it finally opens, bright light spills in and the three of you practically spill out of the closet. Mingi adjusts his shirt immediately, trying to recover dignity. You fix your coat.
Wooyoung? He looks thrilled. The hallway is empty. For now. You turn to him immediately.
âListen,â you say quickly, lowering your voice. âYouâre not saying anything. To anyone.â Mingi nods sharply. âNot a word.â
Wooyoung tilts his head. âAnd why would I do that?â
âBecause,â you say carefully, âthis is private. And we donât want Sia and Nari getting confused about anything.â
Mingi adds immediately, âTheyâre too young. They donât need to know about⊠adult complications.â
Wooyoung hums, considering that. Then grins.
âOh, I get it.â
You both stare at him. He lifts his hands. âRelax. I wonât say anything.â
Mingi narrows his eyes. âPromise?â
Wooyoung places a hand over his chest dramatically. âI swear.â
Then he leans in slightly.
âI will absolutely not tell anyone that you two are secretly in a ânothing serious, completely physical, definitely not emotionally involvedâ situation.â
You both freeze.
ââŠThat was very specific,â you say flatly. Wooyoung smiles innocently. âI pay attention.â Mingi exhales through his nose. âThis is already a mistake.â
âRelax,â Wooyoung repeats cheerfully. âYour secret is safe with me.â
He steps forward. And immediately wraps his arms around Mingi again. Mingi goes rigid. âWhy are you doing this?â
âEmotional support,â Wooyoung says proudly.
The problem isâ Wooyoung is significantly smaller than Mingi. So he basically clings around Mingiâs torso like an overly enthusiastic backpack, while Mingi stands there like a very tall, very tired human pole trying to survive it. Mingi looks down at him. âLet go.â
âNo.â
You let out a quiet laugh despite yourself. Mingi shoots you a look like this is your fault somehow. Wooyoung shifts slightly and immediately grabs your arm too, pulling you in. Now itâs all three of you againâawkwardly stacked together in the hallway. Mingi in the middle, clearly suffering. Wooyoung attached to both of you like a chaotic glue. And you, stuck between trying not to laugh and trying not to think about how warm everything feels.
âThis is humiliating,â Mingi mutters.
âItâs bonding,â Wooyoung corrects.
âItâs not bonding,â Mingi replies.
You shake your head slightly. âWe are never doing this again.â
Wooyoung grins up at both of you.
âSure,â he says.
Then he finally releases you, stepping back.
Waving casually.
âIâll see you later,â he adds.
The zoo is unusually quiet, the kind of calm that feels almost unreal. No crowds, no whispers, no camerasâjust the soft chatter of children and the distant sounds of animals. Sia and Nari are already a few steps ahead, their laughter echoing as they walk between Yunho and Yeosang, each of them pointing excitedly at something new. You trail behind with Mingi, hands tucked into your jacket pockets, matching his slow pace. Heâs talkingâsomething about a new Fix Off projectâand despite yourself, youâre listening carefully, nodding now and then.
ââŠand weâre thinking of taking it in a slightly different direction this time,â he says, glancing at you. âSomething moreââ
Before he can finish, his hand suddenly wraps around your wrist.
âHeyâ!â you squeak, startled, as he pulls you off the path.
âMingiâwhat are youâ?!â
You barely have time to react before he drags you into a small photo booth tucked between two vending machines. The curtain falls shut behind you, enclosing you in the familiar, cramped space. You stare at him, wide-eyed. âAre you insane?â He just grins, that same cocky, infuriating grin you remember far too well. âCome on. Donât tell me youâve forgotten.â
Of course you havenât. Photobooths were always your thing. No matter where you were, if you spotted one, you dragged each other insideâlaughing, squeezing into the tiny space, collecting strips of silly, soft, too-happy pictures. Your expression falters for a second. âThat was⊠different.â
âWas it?â he tilts his head, already reaching for the button. âFeels pretty similar to me.â
You hesitate. Because heâs rightâand thatâs exactly the problem. Youâre not a couple anymore. Youâre not supposed to be⊠this. But then he looks at you like thatâeasy, confident, like he already knows youâll give inâand it annoys you just enough to stay.
ââŠFine,â you mutter. His grin widens. The screen flashes, counting down.
Three⊠two⊠oneâ
The first picture snaps with you still slightly stiff, shoulders tense, while Mingi leans casually closer, smiling like this is the most natural thing in the world. The second countdown starts almost immediately. You barely have time to react before you feel itâhis lips, warm and quick, pressing against your cheek. Your eyes widen just as the camera clicks.
âMingiâ!â you gasp, turning toward him, but heâs already watching you, amused.
âRelax,â he murmurs. The third countdown begins. You open your mouth to say somethingâto warn him, to remind himâ
But then his hand comes up, gentle but certain, tilting your chin toward him. And before you can stop itâ
He kisses you. Soft. Brief. But unmistakable. The flash goes off. You freeze for half a second before pulling back sharply, staring at him. âAre you serious right now?â He looks entirely unbothered. Your hand comes up, lightly hitting his arm. âWe had rules, Mingi.â
âI remember,â he says easily.
âNo flirting in public. No giving people the wrong idea.â Your voice lowers, but the edge is still there. âNo acting like weâreââ
âLike weâre what?â he interrupts, one brow lifting. You glare at him. He just leans back against the booth wall, completely relaxed, that smug, infuriating charm dialed all the way up.
âRelax,â he repeats, softer this time, eyes flicking briefly to your lips before meeting your gaze again. âItâs just pictures.â
âJust pictures,â you echo, unimpressed. The machine whirs, printing the strip. You grab it the second it drops, glancing down despite yourself.
Three images.
One awkward.
One surprised.
One⊠something else entirely. Your grip tightens slightly. Mingi leans over your shoulder, close enough that you can feel his presence without even looking.
âSee?â he murmurs. âStill got it.â You roll your eyes, pushing past him and stepping out of the booth. âYouâre unbelievable.â
Behind you, you hear his quiet chuckle. A wink, when you glance back. Arrogant. Charming. Completely insufferable And somehow⊠exactly the same, that made you fall in love with him.
The apartment is quiet by the time you close the door to the girlsâ room. Sia had insisted on one more story. Nari had already been half asleep, curled into Mingiâs side, her tiny hand clutching his shirt like she didnât want to let go. It took both of you a while to finally settle them down. Now, the soft glow of the nightlight spills into the hallway. Mingi lingers for a moment, hand still on the doorknob, like heâs not quite ready to leave.
âTheyâre out,â you murmur quietly.
He nods, glancing back at the door with a small, almost disbelieving smile. âYeah.â
Thereâs something about the way he looks tonightâsofter around the edges. Less guarded. It does something dangerous to your chest.
âWellâŠâ he clears his throat, straightening slightly. âI should probablyââ
âStay.â
The word leaves your mouth before you can overthink it. He freezes. Slowly turns his head toward you. Your heart starts racing immediately, but you donât take it back. Instead, you hold his gaze, even if your voice comes out quieter this time.
ââŠif you want.â
Thereâs a flicker in his eyesâsurprise, then something deeper. Something he quickly masks behind a familiar smirk.
âCareful,â he murmurs, stepping closer. âYouâre the one who made the rules.â
You swallow. âI know.â
A beat.
Then, softerâ
âIâm breaking them.â
Thatâs all it takes.
âž»
Later, the world feels smaller. Quieter. Youâre lying tangled together beneath the blankets, your head resting against his chest, his arm draped lazily around you. The steady rhythm of his breathing fills the room. For once⊠thereâs no tension. No rules. Just this.
âThey really are different,â he says after a while, voice low, almost thoughtful. His fingers trace absent patterns along your arm. âSia⊠sheâsââ
âChaos?â you suggest.
He huffs a quiet laugh. âExactly. But she looks exactly like you.â
You smile faintly against his skin. âUnfortunately, she got your personality.â
âHey,â he protests lightly. âThatâs a blessing.â
You hum in disagreement.
âAnd NariâŠâ he continues, softer now. âSheâs calmer. Watches everything.â
âLike you,â you say. Thereâs a small pause.
âLooks like me,â he corrects. âBut that attitude?â His hand tightens slightly around you. âThatâs all you.â
You shift a little, tilting your head to look up at him. âTheyâve always been like that.â
He glances down. âWhat do you mean?â
A small smile tugs at your lips, distant and warm. âEven before they were born. Sia wouldnât stop movingâkicking, turning, constantly active.â You let out a soft breath. âAnd Nari⊠she was always quiet. Calm. Like she was just⊠there.â His expression changes. Something more focused. More serious.
ââŠyou went through all that alone,â he says quietly.
You donât answer that. Instead, you shift slightly, about to brush it offâbut then he speaks again.
âWhat did you look like?â
You blink. âWhat?â
âWhen you were pregnant.â His voice is softer now. Careful, even. âWith them.â
And just like thatâ
The air shifts. For a second, you hesitate. Because that time⊠it wasnât soft. It wasnât warm. It wasnât this. It was heavy. Lonely. Painful in ways you donât usually let yourself revisit.
But then you look at him. Really look at him. At his eyesâdark, steady, and for once⊠completely open. And something in your chest loosens. You exhale quietly, slipping out from under his arm.
âWait here.â
He watches you without a word as you lean down, reaching under the bed. After a moment, you pull out a worn photo album.
âMina made this,â you explain, climbing back beside him. âShe documented everything.â
His brows lift slightly, curiosity immediately taking over as he takes the album from your hands. Carefully, almost reverently, he opens it. The first few pages are softâsmall moments. Smiles. Milestones. You point at one picture, a faint laugh escaping you. âThat was the first time Sia kicked so hard I thought something was wrong.â
He huffs quietly, eyes scanning every detail like heâs trying to memorize it.
Another page.
âAnd thatââ you continue, leaning slightly closer, ââwas when I couldnât see my own feet anymore.â
He chuckles under his breath. He stops. Completely. Your gaze follows his. And you immediately groan.
âOh my god,â you mutter, covering your face briefly. âNot that one.â The picture is⊠unmistakable. You, heavily pregnant. Round, swollen, exhaustedâand very aware of it even now. You roll your eyes dramatically. âGo ahead. Laugh. I know I look like a whale.â
Without missing a beat, you nudge his shoulder. âYour fault, by the way. Youâre huge. Of course the kids would be too.â
For a split second, he does laugh. A short, surprised sound.
âYeah,â he mutters, shaking his head. âThat tracks.â
But thenâ
It fades.
His eyes linger on the picture longer than expected. Not amused. Not teasing. Focused. Slowly, his thumb brushes over the edge of the page, almost absent-minded.
âYouâre wrong, you know that?â he says quietly. You blink, lowering your hands slightly. âAbout what?â
He tilts the album just a little, like heâs studying the photo from a different angle, then glances at you.
âYou didnât look like a whale.â
A small pause.
Thenâthere it is. That familiar spark in his eyes, softer now, but still unmistakably Mingi.
âYou lookedâŠâ he hums, like heâs searching for the right word, though the slight smirk says he already has one, âfucking sexy.â
You stare at him.
âFucking sexyâ? Mingiââ
âIâm serious,â he cuts in, far too easily. âIf I had seen you like that back thenâŠâ His gaze drifts briefly over you, slow, unapologetic. âI wouldnât have left the house. Ever.â
Heat rushes to your face immediately. âYouâre unbelievable, Mingi. My ass was huge and i had a big baby bump.â
âAnd you were carrying my kids?â he adds, quieter now, something warmer slipping into his tone. â âFirst of all, you know Iâve always had a thing for your assâ the rounder, the better. Second, that big baby bump of yours âŠYou looked gorgeous. And thirdâŠâ he smirks, âyour boobs were huge. Yeah⊠thatâs not exactly a turn-off.â
You huff, trying to brush it off, but your heart stumbles anyway.
âYour standards are questionable.â
âMy standards are you,â he shoots back without missing a beat.
That⊠fucking shuts you up. For a second too long. His smirk softens, just slightly, as he watches your reactionâlike he didnât fully mean to say it that way⊠or maybe he did.
Either wayâ
The air between you shifts. The silence lingers for a second longer than it should. You clear your throat lightly, shifting the mood before it gets too heavy.
âI had the worst cravings, by the way,â you mumble, leaning back slightly against him again, eyes dropping to the album in his hands. His brows lift immediately. âOh?â
You nod, a small, embarrassed smile tugging at your lips. âLike⊠really bad. Chocolate and pickles.â He freezes. Then slowly turns his head toward you. âIâm sorryâwhat?â
âDonât look at me like that,â you huff, nudging his side. âIt was the only thing that made sense at the time.â
âThatâs criminal,â he mutters, shaking his head. âYou were out there committing food crimes while carrying my kids?â
You roll your eyes, but thereâs a quiet laugh slipping out anyway.
âAnd the mood swingsâŠâ you continue, softer now. âGod. One second I was fine, the next I was crying because I dropped a spoon.â
He snorts quietly. âI can actually picture that.â
âShut up.â
A small pause followsâcomfortable this time. Then you inhale, hesitating just slightly. âAnd⊠from the second trimester on I was also justââ You stop. Mingi notices immediately. His head tilts. âYou were what?â
You shake your head quickly. âNothing.â
âNo, no,â he says, closing the album halfway, attention fully on you now. âYou donât get to start a sentence like that and then bail.â
âItâs not important.â
âThat means it definitely is.â
You look away, suddenly very interested in a random spot on the wall. âMingi.â
âWhat?â he presses, nudging you lightly. âTell me.â
âItâs stupid.â
âEven better.â
You let out a quiet groan. âWhy are you like this?â
âBecause youâre hiding something,â he replies easily. âAnd I donât like that.â
You hesitate again. He doesnât let it go.
âCome on,â he murmurs, leaning closer, voice dropping just enough to make your stomach flip. âWhat were you about to say?â
You glare at him briefly. He just smiles. Arrogant. Patient. Completely unrelenting.
ââŠfine,â you mutter under your breath.
His grin widens. You exhale, already regretting this. âI was⊠in the mood. A lot.â
Silence.
For a second, he just stares at you. Like youâve completely lost your mind. Your face heats up instantly. âDonât say anything.â
âIâm not,â he says. Still staring. That familiar, dangerous smirk creeps onto his lips.
âOh,â he hums.
You immediately regret everything.
âOh,â he repeats, leaning back slightly, eyes dragging over you in a way that makes your pulse spike. âThatâs interesting.â
âMingiââ
âSecond trimester, huh?â he continues casually, like heâs analyzing something very serious. âGood to know.â
You shove his shoulder lightly. âStop it.â
âWhat?â he shrugs, completely unapologetic. âIâm just thinking out loud.â
âThatâs exactly the problem.â
A low chuckle escapes him, and then he leans in closer again, voice dropping.
âMaybe I shouldâve burned those stupid condoms after all,â he murmurs. âCouldâve been working on baby number three by now.â
You blink. Then let out an incredulous laugh. âShut the fuck up. Donât even think about it!â
âCâmon you wouldnât have complained,â he shoots back instantly.
You hit his chest lightly, still laughing despite yourself. âYouâre such an arrogant idiot.â
âYeah,â he agrees easily.
But his arms tighten around you as he says it. Pulling you closer. The laughter fades just a little as the space between you disappears again. His hand slides along your side, slow, familiar. Then his lips brush against your neckâsoft, lingering, just enough to make your breath hitch.
âMingiâŠâ you murmur, your hands instinctively gripping his shirt.
He doesnât answer. Just presses another gentle kiss just below your ear, slower this time. More intentional. You freeze for a second.
âNo Baby number 3!â
Because the shift is subtleâ
but itâs there. This isnât just teasing anymore.
ââŠthat was a joke,â you ask quietly, your voice barely steady. âRight?â
He hums softly against your skin, like heâs considering it.
âMingi,â you press, pulling back just enough to look at him. âIt was a joke⊠right?â
âYeah, yeah,â he murmurs, a little too quickly this time. But something in his expression flickers.
He stops. Actually stops. Like heâs caught himself going a step too far. His hands tighten slightly around you before he exhales and pulls you closer insteadâtucking you against his chest. Grounding himself.
âDonât overthink it,â he mutters quietly.
But his voice isnât as careless as before.
And for the first time tonightâ
it sounds like he might be trying to convince himself just as much as you. And this time, it lingers. The laughter fades. His thumb brushes lightly over the edge of the photo.
And when he turns to youâ
Itâs different. Thereâs no smirk. No teasing. Just something raw.
âIâm sorry.â
The words are quiet. But they land heavier than anything heâs said before. You freeze slightly. Because heâs said it before. More than once. But not like this. Not with that look in his eyesâwarm, steady⊠and threaded with something that almost hurts to see.
Guilt.
Regret.
And something deeper he doesnât name.
âI shouldâve been there,â he continues, voice low. âFor all of it. For you. For them.â
Your throat tightens. He holds your gaze, unwavering.
âI canât change that,â he says. âI know that.â
Then, more firmlyâ
âBut Iâm here now.â
His hand finds yours, fingers curling around it with quiet certainty.
âAnd Iâm not going anywhere.â His voice softens, but the conviction stays. âNo matter what. You, Sia, Nari⊠Iâm here. Always.â
Silence settles between you. You donât trust your voice. Not right now.
So you just nod. Once.
Because anything more would give you away. And deep downâ
somewhere youâve been trying very hard not to lookâ you already know. This isnât just history repeating itself.
Itâs worse. Because this timeâŠ
youâre falling for him again.
And youâre not sure youâll be able to stop.
âAnd maybe Mingi junior one day!â
âShut up!â
The apartment is unusually quiet. Outside, the sun is only just beginning to rise, painting soft golden stripes across the hallway floor. Most people are still asleep. Not Sia and Nari.
The twins are awake before anyone else, their messy bed hair sticking up in every direction as they sneak out of their room in matching pajamas.
âIâm hungry,â Sia whispers dramatically, rubbing her stomach. Nari yawns. âMe tooâŠâ
They tiptoe toward the kitchen. Then Sia suddenly stops.
ââŠWait.â
She points toward the front door. Two large black sneakers sit neatly beside your shoes. Sia blinks. Nari blinks too. The girls slowly look at each other.
ââŠThose arenât Mommyâs.â
âNo,â Nari agrees.
âAnd theyâre definitely not ours.â
Another silence. Then Sia gasps.
âTheyâre Daddyâs!â
Nariâs eyes become huge.
âThey areâŠâ
For a moment, both girls simply stare at the shoes as if they have magically appeared overnight. âButâŠâ Nari whispers, ââŠDaddy always goes home. He never spent the night here!â
âNever..â
âSo why are his shoes here?â Sia places both hands on her hips, suddenly looking very serious.
âThis,â she announces, âis a mystery.â Nari nods immediately.
âA big mystery.â
âWe have to investigate.â Nari hesitates.
ââŠShould we?â
âYes.â
âWhat if heâs hiding?â
âThen weâll find him.â
âWhat if heâs playing hide-and-seek?â
âThen weâll win.â
Satisfied with this logic, Sia marches forward while Nari follows a few tiny steps behind. They search the living room first.
âDaddy?â Nothing. In the kitchen? âDaddyyyy?â
Still nothing. Behind the couch. Inside the bathroom. Even under the dining table.
âNo Daddy,â Nari reports. Sia crosses her arms.
âHm.â
Then her eyes slowly wander toward the hallway. Only one door remains. Your bedroom. The twins exchange another look. Very quietly, Sia reaches for the handle.
âMaybe Mommy is sleeping,â Nari whispers.
âWeâll be quiet.â Sia carefully pushes the door open just enough to peek inside. The room is peaceful. Morning light filters through the curtains.
And there, in the middle of the bedâŠyou and Mingi are fast asleep. Youâre curled against his chest, one arm tucked beneath the blanket, while his arm is wrapped securely around you, holding you close without even realizing it. Neither of you moves. Neither of you notices the tiny audience standing in the doorway. Sia tilts her head.
ââŠHuh.â Nari peeks around her shoulder. ââŠOh.â They both stare. Very seriously. Sia squints.
âWhy is Daddy holding Mommy so tight?â Nari studies the situation with equal concentration. âI donât know⊠Sia keeps looking.
ââŠMaybe Mommy is cold.â Nari leans her head farther into the room. ââŠMaybe.â
âBut theyâre under a blanket.â
âThatâs true.â Sia thinks harder. Then another idea appears.
âOh!â
âWhat?â
âMaybe Daddy is scared sheâll fall out of bed.â Nariâs eyes widen.
ââŠThatâs possible.â
âHe catches her if she rolls away.â Nari nods thoughtfully. âThatâs very helpful.â
âIt is.â
Sia smiles proudly at their conclusion.Then she quietly tiptoes another step into the room. Immediately, Nari grabs the back of her pajama sleeve.
âSiaâŠâ
âWhat?â
âStop.â
âIâm just looking.â
âNo!â
âIâll only look a little.â
âNo.â
Sia turns.
âWhy?â
âTheyâre sleeping.â
âIâm quiet!â
âNo, youâre not.â
âI am!â
âNo.â
âI can be.â
Nari shakes her head with absolute certainty.
âYou breathe loudly.â
âI do not.â
âYou do.â Sia pouts. Then she looks back at the bed. Daddy still hasnât moved. His arm is still around Mommy. Sia puts one finger against her chin.
ââŠMaybe heâs protecting her.â Nari blinks. âProtecting her from what?â Sia doesnât answer immediately. Instead, she scans the room as if searching for danger. Then she lowers her voice dramatically. ââŠThe bed monsters.â Nari freezes.
âThe⊠bed monsters?â Sia nods. âThey only come when people sleep.â
âOh.â
âAnd Daddy is stronger than bed monsters.â
âOhâŠâ
âSo if one comesâŠâ
She makes tiny claw motions with her fingers.
ââŠheâll fight it.â Nari considers this very carefully. Then, after several long seconds, she nods. ââŠThat actually makes sense.â
âI know.â
âSo Mommy is safe.â
âVery safe.â Satisfied, Nari gently tugs on Siaâs sleeve again.
âCome on.â
âButââ
âLet them sleep.â
âWhat if a monster comes later?â
âDaddy is already here.â Sia looks back one last time. Mingi unconsciously pulls you just a little closer in his sleep. Sia smiles.
ââŠYeah.â Then she whispers, âGood job, Daddy.â Nari smiles too. Hand in hand, the twins quietly retreat from the bedroom, carefully pulling the door closed behind them. Neither of them notices the tiny smile that briefly appears on your sleeping face.
Morning comes quietly. Soft light filters through the curtains, painting everything in that hazy, almost unreal glow where nothing feels quite solid yet. You wake up slowly. Warm. Thatâs the first thing you notice. Not just warmâheld. Thereâs an arm wrapped securely around your waist, heavy and familiar. A steady breath against the back of your neck. The unmistakable weight of someone who clearly has no intention of letting go. For a moment, you donât move. You just⊠exist in it. Then reality creeps in. You glance down.
Fuck. Thatâs not just someone. Thatâs Mingi.Your ex.
The father of your children. The man who, last time things got even remotely close to this, nearly lost his life because you almost took his head off after a kiss.
âŠRight. Slowly, carefully, you shift just enough to look over your shoulder. Heâs still asleep. Face relaxed, lips slightly parted, hair a mess. One arm around you, the other tucked under the pillow like he claimed the entire bed sometime during the night. He looks⊠peaceful. You narrow your eyes a little.
ââŠYouâre brave,â you murmur under your breath. Big mistake. Mingi stirs.
His arm tightens instinctively for a second before he blinks awakeâslow at first, then all at once. The moment his brain catches up?
Panic. Immediate, visible panic.
He freezes. Then, very carefully, like heâs disarming a bomb, he lifts his arm off you.
âOkay,â he whispers to himself. âOkay, okay, okayâŠâ
You raise an eyebrow, watching him. He slides back a few centimeters. Then a few more. Like distance alone might save him.
âGood morning to you too,â you say dryly.
He flinches. Actually flinches.
âI didnâtââ he starts quickly, holding his hands up like you just caught him committing a crime. âI meanâI didâbut I didnât mean to fall asleep like thatââ
You stare at him.
ââŠMingi.â
âI respect you,â he blurts out. That makes you snort. He pauses, confused. âThat wasnât the right thing to say, was it?â
âNot even close.â
Then silence settles againâbut itâs different now. Less panic. More⊠awareness. You shift slightly, pulling the blanket up a bit as you sit up halfway. He watches you carefully, like heâs still expecting a delayed reaction.
âYouâre not yelling,â he says cautiously.
âIâm not.â
âYouâre not threatening me.â
âNot currently.â
ââŠThatâs new.â
You glance at him. Thenâwithout really thinking about itâyou lean back again. Closer. Not fully against him. But not far either. Mingi goes very still.
âI was comfortable,â you admit, like itâs nothing. He blinks.
ââŠWhat?â
âYou heard me.â
âI just want to make sure I didnât hallucinate that.â
You roll your eyes, but thereâs a hint of a smile tugging at your lips.
âYou didnât.â
Then, slowlyâcarefullyâhis arm moves again. Not fully around you this time. Just resting lightly against your side. Testing. You donât stop him. Thatâs all the confirmation he needs.
ââŠOkay,â he breathes out.
You let the silence stretch for a moment longer before speaking again.
âThis doesnât change anything.â
He nods immediately. Too fast. âYes. Absolutely. Nothing.â
âWe are not getting back together.â
âDefinitely not.â
âThis is not emotional.â
âNot even a little bit.â
You glance at him.
ââŠYou hesitated.â
âI didnâtââ
âYou did.â
âI was breathing!â You give him a look. He exhales. âOkay, fine. Maybe a tiny hesitation. But Iâm back on track now.â You shake your head slightly.
âThis is physical,â you say firmly. âThatâs it. No expectations. No complications.â Mingi nods again, more seriously this time. âNo complications.â
âAnd most importantlyââ
You both speak at the same time.
âThe girls canât know.â You stop. He stops. Then you both look at each other.
ââŠAbsolutely not,â he adds quickly. âIf Sia finds out, weâre done for.â You both fall silent for a second. You consider it. The warmth. The familiarity.The very obvious tension that hasnât gone anywhere. Neither of you moves away. His hand is still resting against your side. Youâre still closer than you should be.
âThis is already breaking the rules, isnât it?â he mutters.
âProbably.â
ââŠShould we fix that?â
You donât answer immediately. Instead, you shift just slightly closer again. Not enough to be obvious. More than enough to be intentional. Mingi lets out a quiet, defeated breath.
âYeah,â he says softly. âThis is going to go very badly.â
âDefinitely,â you agree. Neither of you moves. And somehow, despite everything you just saidâ it already feels anything but uncomplicated. He nods. You shift. Mingi watches you, confused for half a secondâuntil you suddenly move closer again. This time, thereâs no hesitation. You tuck yourself right back against him, fitting into his side like itâs the most natural thing in the world. Mingi freezes.
ââŠWhat are you doing?â he asks carefully. You sigh softly, eyes already half closing again. âThis doesnât mean anything,â you mumble.
ââŠIt really looks like it means something.â
âIt doesnât,â you insist, already getting comfortable. âYouâre just⊠warm.â Thereâs a pause.
ââŠIâm warm,â he repeats quietly, like heâs trying to process that this is his official role now.
âVery,â you confirm, pulling the blanket up a little more. He lets out a small breath that almost sounds like a laugh.
âRight. Okay. Good. I can do warm.â His arm slowly, cautiously, slips around you again. This time, you donât even acknowledge it. You just settle closer. Like itâs normal. Like itâs easy. Mingi stares at the ceiling for a second.
ââŠThis is already against the rules,â he murmurs.
âProbably.â
âAnd we just agreed on them.â
âMhm.â
ââŠWeâre really bad at this.â
âYep.â
Neither of you moves. And despite everything you both saidâ this feels way too natural to ever stay âjust physical.â For exactly twelve seconds, the apartment is peaceful. You and Mingi are still sitting on the bed, wrapped in blankets and denial, both pretending that this situation is somehow manageable. Then reality returns. Your eyes slowly drift toward the bedroom door. ââŠWe have a problem.â Mingi follows your gaze. ââŠWe do.â
âThe girls.â You stare at each other. He blinks.
âSoâŠHow exactly am I supposed to leave this apartment?â You think for a moment. Then another. Then, with complete seriousness, you point toward the window.
âYou could climb out.â Mingi slowly turns his head. The window. Then back to you.
ââŠOut the window?â
âYes.â He stares. âYou live on the eighth floor.â
âI know.â
âYou want me to climb out?â
âI didnât say it was a good plan.â He gives you the flattest look imaginable. âIâm brainstorming!â
âYou are brainstorming homicide.â You sigh dramatically.
âFine. Do you have a better idea?â He looks around the room. The wardrobe. Too small. Under the bed. Impossible. The curtains. Ridiculous.
ââŠNo.â
âExactly.â You quietly slide out of bed and creep toward the door. âStay here.â He nods.
âIâll distract the girls.â
âAnd then?â
âYou sneak out.â He points at himself. âSneak?â
âYes.â
âIâm 6ft1.â
âI know.â
âI donât sneak.â
âYou will today.â
He sighs. âThis is humiliating.â You crack the door open. The apartment is quiet. Giggles. Tiny voices. Coming from the girlsâ room. You smile with relief. Perfect
âTheyâre occupied.â
You turn back toward him.
âGet dressed.â He immediately starts pulling on yesterdayâs clothes at lightning speed, somehow managing to put his T-shirt on inside out without noticing. You point a finger at him
âWait for my signal.â He salutes dramatically. âYes, maâam.â You roll your eyes and slip into the hallway. The girlsâ bedroom door is open. Sia and Nari are sitting on the floor, surrounded by stuffed animals, arguing over whether a pink rabbit can become a veterinarian. The moment they see youâ
âMommy!â
Both girls jump up and run straight into your arms. You crouch down, hugging them tightly.
âGood morning, my babies.â
âGood morning!â
âWeâre hungry!â
âWeâre very hungry!â
âI can tell.â
While hugging them, you secretly stretch one foot behind you and awkwardly try to push their bedroom door farther closed, hoping Mingi can quietly sneak through the hallway. The door moves maybe three centimeters. Then stops. You pretend nothing happened. âSoâŠâ you say brightly. âShould we make breakfast?â But Sia suddenly grabs your hand.
âMommy!â
âYes?â
âIs Daddy still here?â Everything inside your body stops working.
ââŠWhat?â Sia bounces excitedly. âDid Daddy protect you from the bed monsters?â Your smile dies instantly. ââŠExcuse me?â Nari nods very seriously.
âWe saw him.â Your soul leaves your body. ââŠYou what?â
âWe saw both of you.â
âNo, you didnât.â
âWe did.â
âNo.â
Sia looks confused.
âBut we looked.â You laugh. A very fake laugh.
âHaha! Thatâs silly! Daddy isnât here!â
âHe is.â
âHe isnât.â
âHe is.â
âHe is NOT!â You can actually feel yourself sweating. âGirls,â you say much louder than necessary. âCOME ON! LETâS GO MAKE BREAKFAST ! But maybe first go in mommyâs BEDROOM!â Your eyes briefly dart toward your bedroom. Please hear me. Please understand. Please hide. Inside the bedroom Mingi is having the worst morning of his entire life.
He runs one circle around the room. Closet? Too obvious. Behind the curtain? His feet will stick out.Under the bed? He kneels. ââŠAbsolutely not.â He stands again. âThere is nowhere to hide!â He grabs his own hair. âThis is how I die.â Then he hears tiny footsteps. Fast. Coming closer. His eyes become huge.
âNo, no, no, noââ He spins around. The window. He walks toward it. Opens it Looks down. Eight floors. He sighs. ââŠWell. He places one hand on the window frame.âFor my dignityâŠâ The bedroom door bursts open. âDADDY!!â He freezes. Slowly turns around. Two tiny tornadoes launch themselves at him Sia crashes directly into him Nari wraps both arms around his leg . Mingi nearly loses his balance.
âOh!â
âDaddy!â
âWe found you!â
âWe knew it!â He instinctively scoops Sia into his arms while trying not to trip over Nari, who is now attached to his thigh like a tiny koala His hair sticks out in every direction. His shirt is backwards. One sock is missing He looks absolutely ridiculous. Across the room, your eyes meet his. His expression screams: Help me! You bite your lip. Very hard. Because if you donâtâ youâre going to laugh.
âDaddy,â Sia announces proudly, wrapping her little arms around his neck, âyouâre our hero. He blinks.
ââŠI am?â Nari nods shyly, still hugging his leg.
âYou protected Mommy from the bed monsters.â Mingi looks at her. Then at Sia. Then at you. Then back at them.
ââŠThe bed monsters?â
âYes.â
âThey come at night.â
âAnd Mommy was sleeping.â
âSo you protected her.â For several seconds, Mingi says absolutely nothing. Then the corners of his mouth slowly begin to rise. You know that smile No. Absolutely not. His eyes meet yours. That arrogant, cocky grin appears in full force.
âOh.â He nods solemnly. âOf course.â Sia gasps. âWe knew it!â
âYou did?â
âYou hugged Mommy so the monsters couldnât take her!â
âI did do that.â Nari smiles. âCan you protect Mommy every night?â You immediately point at him. âNo.â He doesnât even look away from you. Instead, his grin widens.
âOh,â he says smoothly. âI can absolutely protect Mommy every night. Iâd be happy to.â Your eyes narrow. He is such a child.
âMingi.â
He smiles innocently.
âWhat?â
âIâm simply serving my heroic duties.â
âMingi.â He pretends to think. âIn factâŠâ He shifts Sia a little higher on his arm. ââŠI should probably stay permanently.â
You stare at him. He stares back. Completely shameless. Sia claps excitedly.
âYay!â Nari nods. âThe bed monsters will be scared.â You press your lips together so hard they almost disappear. Because the grin threatening to escape is entirely his fault. He catches it anyway. And somehowâ despite the panic, despite the disaster, despite the fact that your carefully constructed secret has just been investigated by two five-year-old detectivesâ he winks. The absolute idiot.
The kitchen is louder than it has been in years. Flour somehow ends up on the counter, the floor, andâdespite all logicâon Mingiâs nose He looks at Sia. Sia looks at him. Without saying a word, they both point at Nari. Nari gasps. âI didnât do it!â
âYou definitely did,â Sia says with complete confidence. âI didnât! Daddy, tell her.â Mingi folds his arms dramatically, pretending to think very hard. âHmâŠâ The twins stare at him. Finally, he nods. âI have reached my professional conclusion.â
âAnd?â
âIt wasâŠâ He pauses for effect. ââŠthe waffle fairy.â
âThe waffle fairy?â Nari repeats.
âAbsolutely.â Sia immediately accepts this explanation. âThat makes sense.â Nari blinks. âIt does?â âOf course.â
âThe waffle fairy likes flour.â
âOh.â
âAnd sometimes she attacks kitchens.â
âOhhh.â
Satisfied, both girls nod as if this mystery has officially been solved. You stand at the table, placing plates and glasses down one by one From where you are, you watch the three of them. Mingi stands in the middle of the kitchen wearing an apron that says Kiss the Cook, except he has somehow put that on backwards too. Sia is standing on a chair, proudly stirring batter that no longer needs stirring. Nari carefully counts blueberries. âOneâŠTwoâŠThreeâŠâ Then Mingi suddenly claps his hands. âOkay!â The twins look up. âTodayâs cooking lesson comes with music.â Siaâs eyes sparkle. âMusic!â
âNo.â
He grins. âRap.â The girls exchange excited looks. He points at the mixing bowl. âReady?â Both girls bounce up and down. âReady!â
He starts tapping a rhythm against the counter.
âYoââ The twins gasp. He continues,
âWe got flour, we got dough, tiny chefs are stealing the show!â Sia immediately jumps in. âI got blueberries!â Nari quietly adds, âI got eggsâŠâ Mingi points dramatically. âThatâs my team!â He keeps the beat going:
âNo crying, No messââ The bowl slips slightly. Batter splashes onto his sleeve. The twins stare. He looks down. Then back at them. ââŠOkay.â He clears his throat. âMaybe a little mess.â Both girls explode into laughter Soon the entire kitchen turns into a ridiculous concert Sia is dancing with a whisk like itâs a microphone Nari is clapping perfectly off beat Mingi somehow turns the recipe into a freestyle about waffles conquering the world. You lean against the table for a moment Just watching Just listening The laughter fills every corner of the apartment. And suddenlyâ your chest aches. Not because youâre sad. Because this⊠this is exactly what you always imagined Years ago, before everything fell apart Before heartbreak Before lonely nights. Before doctorâs appointments where you sat by yourself Before learning to be strong because there was no other choice You wanted this Love A family Someone beside you while your children grew up. You wanted Mingi. Then he broke your heart. You promised yourself you would never forgive him. Never love him again. You swore that the name Song Mingi would only remind you of pain. Yet nowâ heâs standing in your kitchen. Rapping about waffles. Your daughters are laughing so hard that Sia nearly falls off her chair. Nari is smiling that quiet little smile she only shows when sheâs completely happy. And Mingi⊠He looks at them like theyâre the greatest audience heâs ever had Your thoughts become tangled. Could you love him again? Should you? Would he choose differently this time? Would he choose you? A real life A family. Would he stand beside you, despite everything? Maybe⊠Maybe Nari was right. Maybe sometimes love simply needs time to heal.
âMommy!!â
Siaâs voice pulls you back instantly. She runs toward you, holding up a slightly crooked waffle with enormous pride.
âLook!â You kneel down. âOh my goodness.â
âItâs shaped like a dinosaur!â You study it carefully.
ââŠI think itâs shaped like Uncle Jongho.â
âIt can be both.â
âI think youâre right.â She giggles proudly. Then your eyes lift. Across the kitchen. Straight to Mingi. Heâs watching you His sleeves are rolled up. His hair is even messier now. Thereâs flour on his cheek. He notices you looking. One corner of his mouth lifts into that familiar, impossibly confident grin. The uncomfortable knot in your stomach softens. It turns into something lighter. Warmer A flutter. Because no matter how much you analyze it No matter how many reasons you list⊠The truth quietly settles inside your heart. Maybe⊠You never stopped loving him.
After breakfast, the apartment becomes complete chaos. Sia races through the hallway pretending to be an airplane. Nari follows behind her, insisting she is actually a helicopter. Mingi, naturally, declares himself the airport. You stand in the kitchen collecting plates while listening to the constant giggles echoing through the apartment.
âCome on, Nari!â
âWeâre building a blanket castle!â The twins disappear into their room The apartment suddenly becomes quiet. For exactly three seconds. You place another plate into the sink. Then you feel someone behind you Strong arms slide gently around your waist. You freeze.
âMingi.â
âHm?â
He rests his chin lightly near your shoulder.
âWhat are you doing?â
âNothing.â
âThis is definitely something.â
âI disagree.â
You sigh.
âIf the girls see usââ
âTheyâre busy.â
âYou donât know that.â
âI have excellent instincts.â
âYou also thought hiding behind the curtain was a good idea.â
âI was under pressure.â You try to step away. He doesnât let go. Instead, he laughs quietly.
âYou worry too much. You always did.â
âI worry exactly enough.â
He smiles against your shoulder.
âI like mornings like this.â
You hesitate.
âDo you?â
âMhm. The girls laughing. The smell of waffles. You pretending youâre not smiling.â
You roll your eyes.
âI am not pretending.â
âNo?â
âNo.â
âHm.â
He sounds unconvinced. For a moment, neither of you says anything. The apartment is peaceful again. Then you decide to tease him.
âSoâŠâ He hums. âAre you sure you wouldnât miss your idol life?â The answer comes immediately.
âNo.â
You blink.
âNot even a little?â
âNot a second.â
âYou didnât even think about it.â
âI donât need to.â
You turn slightly to look at him.
âReally?â
He shrugs.
âI already know my answer.â
âAnd whatâs that?â
He smiles with effortless confidence.
âMy favorite crowd only has three people.â You stare at him. He continues,
âOne very stubborn, but insanely good looking woman and two tiny critics who think my waffles deserve ten out of ten.â
You laugh.
âTheyâre biased.â
âTheyâre correct.â
He grins.
âBesidesâŠâ He lowers his voice conspiratorially.
â..the bed monsters clearly require my professional services.â
You cover your face.
âOh no.â
âOh yes.â
âYouâre never letting that go, are you?â
âAbsolutely not.â
He straightens proudly. Then he lifts you up- bridal style. Your arms automatically wrap around his neck.
âWho else is going to protect you every night?â You canât help it. You laugh A real laugh. The kind that comes without effort. Mingi watches you for a second. His expression softens. Your heart gives one quiet, unexpected leap. And somewhere beneath all the fear, all the doubt, and all the promises you once made to yourself⊠a tiny voice whispers that perhapsâ just perhapsâ this version of Mingi is different and he really wants to be with you.
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Pairing: psychiatrist!Jeong Yunho x patient!female reader
ê€ Warning: bullying, mistreatment, ptsd, mentions of insanity & abuse, mental health talks, psychiatric diagnose, unethical thoughts and actions
ê€Â Word count: 25.1k
ê€Â Rating: mature
ê€Â Genre: dated around the late 1800's, psychiatrist x patient, lots of yearning, mutual pinning, forbidden love, inspired by Alias Grace, angst
ê€Â Summary: Being caged inside your home for a wrongdoing you can't even remember seems to not have the effect people have been expecting. With the arrival of a foreign doctor with studies unheard of before, your life takes a new turn. Will Doctor Jeong prove your innocence, or will he fall into your web like everyone else? Are you sane, or is he just as insane as his patients?
A/N: Helloo, my lovelies! ^^ Wrapping up this story took way too long due to me having some unplanned health issues that are still (?) kicking my ass...anyways, keep in mind while you're reading this that there are probably historical inaccuracies to this story, especially to South Korean history that I briefly read through when constructing Yunho character's background. The dresses MC wears also aren't the most accurate, but I hope you can look past that and imagine instead whatever you'd like. I watched the mini-series Alias Grace and was rather inspired by it, so you will find similarities to it within this story. I am no medical professional, so the diagnosis MC is given might be inaccurate even though I have taken my time to research these things. Let me know if I should tag anything else as a warning, and I really hope you enjoy this story as I have tried making it a bit different. Let me know your thoughts about it, I am always excited to read your feedback! <3 Oh, and, I hope Santa brings you something sweet tonight, this is my not so small present for you all! ^^ divider
           The old clockâs ticking seemed to only get louder by the second. The sheer curtains were pulled to the side to allow more sunlight inside the tea room, the grand doors opened to let in the late fresh summer breeze. The white hydrangeas lining the paths leading towards the back garden were gorgeous and carried a strong scent with them, I could smell it from my spot on the soft faded pink cushion of the sofa brought all the way from France. The tea room had been remodelled not long ago. There was something about it that gave old cottage vibes, but it has now been upgraded to a more fashionable Parisian feel. It was pretty, with hues of light peach and a darker coral, however, I used to like more the cosy feeling of the sage green and baby blue colours that had decorated the room once. Karina liked it more this way, she had said something about the lighter colours giving the impression of a bigger room. I did not understand why the tea room was required to look grander than it already was, but I didnât question her judgment. It was best if I didnât, not out loud, at least.
The servants were quietly waiting outside the room as my mother paced in front of us, Karina perched on a fancy chair with an abandoned book in her hands. I knew the ticking of the old clock and the silence was driving her mad, but I remained silent as I gazed forward, eyes on the gravel path. I longed to walk in the meadow close to our house, but I wasnât allowed to roam around on my own. Even inside my own home, I was under constant surveillance. The doctors have said it was for my own sake, but it felt like I was in a continuous cage. It was suffocative, I couldnât sleep some nights due to it, not even after drinking Mrs. Humphreyâs delicious camomile tea. My last hope resided in summer, in the warm breeze that kissed my cold skin, everything a lush green where I looked, to keep me sane. As sane as it could, since I was deemed a madwoman long ago.
Unlike the others who hired chauffeurs and dated carriages with old horses, this doctor arrived by a fancy patent motorcar. It wasnât him driving it, at least the servants had whispered that to each other, but his long wool coat looked expensive too. My mother finally stopped pacing and Karina sighed in irritation when there was a knock at the front door. One maid stepped forward and opened the door for the doctor, gently greeting him. I couldnât hear his voice, I was trying to catch the song of the birds outside, but I could feel the shift in the air. It was warmer inside as if the sun had stepped through our threshold. It warmed my skin like none other. Finally, the doctor was led towards the tea room, my back to him as my lips moved in a whispered song that comforted me. If I ignored the coil of my stomach and the sheen layer of sweat over my brows, I could convince myself that I was fine. That whoever came to check on me wasnât another vicious man eager to torture a damned soul like mine.
âMy apologies, maâam, I am unfamiliar with these roads.â The manâs voice was deep yet soft, like honey, thick but inoffensive. At least if I told myself that, it calmed my rapid heartbeat. As I continued sitting rigidly, my fingers wrung together, the tremors never disappeared. It was something natural, the other doctors have concluded, something they couldnât fix about me. Another thing they couldnât fix about me. It was fine, I knew I had been damned a long time ago.
âOh, it is no issue, we are glad you made it, Doctor.â My motherâs voice was filled with deep relief as the crease between her brows finally disappeared, hands locked behind her back as she rushed towards the entrance. Karina was surprisingly silent, but her expression spoke volumes. Her eyes had widened and her mouth had parted, fingers barely clutching the book in her hands anymore. I gulped, trying to steady my irregular breathing. I knew what was coming, the same questions and objects this doctor, too, would use to check my stability. I dreaded it all, I wanted to scream and throw a vase and make it shatter against the ground, but I would only be deemed even crazier. My eyes shook when I heard footsteps approach, heavier than those of my mother or Karina, it was the man. The Doctor. He was coming further inside, I could feel his eyes trained on my nape, no doubt curious and with a glint madder in his eyes than in mine, here to dissect me, pick me apart just to never fix me. I saw polished black shoes stop before me, and the lump in my throat almost made it impossible to speak up.
âMiss Harold, my name is Doctor Jeong Yunho.â Then, unlike any other doctor had done, this oneâs knees bent until he was crouching in front of me, looking at me. His eyes were round and kind, a dark brown unlike my icy ones, and they were filled with warmth and softness I hadnât seen in any other man. His nose had a perfect slope and his fair skin was sun-kissed, the apple of his cheeks a rosy red. His lips werenât too big but pouty and full, asking to be traced gently by soft fingertips. I shuddered, completely taken aback by his youth and beauty. The man was from faraway lands, yet judging by his speech, you couldnât tell until you saw him. He was gorgeous, he was breathtaking, âWould you feel safe if it was just the two of us in this room?â
No, I wanted to scream. My fingers tightened against each other, I gulped and hesitantly nodded, our eyes spilling into each otherâs as if a spell had them locked together. His features were serene and sincere, not a frown on his beautiful face to create creases, just a soft smile pulling at his lips. It was disarming and frightening at the same time. Then, the doctor smiled even wider as he stood back up, his height intimidating. My heart raced as I watched him, unable to take my eyes off him. And he was still looking at me as he spoke up, âIf you could excuse us, Iâd like to speak to Miss Harold in privacy. It wonât take long, I promise. Iâm only here today to familiarise myself with her.â
âGood, yes, Doctor, whatever you need.â My mother sounded reassured as she gripped Karinaâs arm, yanking her out of the tea room as she seemingly didnât want to go. Her eyes were fixed on Doctor Jeong, and her cheeks were blushed, âWould you like a cup of tea before we leave?â
âNo, but thank you, Mrs. Harold.â The doctor hummed, his voice warm, as he sat across from me. He had no leather tool bag, nothing. He only carried a ragged satchel bag, a dark green with patches made to it, and it seemed mostly empty. My heart couldnât settle down, not yet. Maybe his tools were hidden in the pockets of his long black coat. He hadnât taken it off, and he looked like he wasnât planning on staying for long. I couldnât decide whether that thought reassured or unsettled me even more. Silence stretched on as we stared at each other, my throat dry, but I made no moves to drink from my fine China cup. I gulped when the doctor finally moved, reaching inside his bag. Here it came, the torture for the next hours, he was just like all those other doctors. I could feel tears prick at my eyes and my chest felt on fire, my lungs constricting, but the world seemed to stop moving when the man finally retracted his hand from inside his ragged bag. He held no tool to harm me, instead, a slightly withering daisy was gripped daintily between his long fingers.
âI plucked this for you on my way here, Miss Harold.â The doctor spoke, leaning forward to extend his hand towards me. A daisy, from a man like him. A man who felt like the sun itself, warming my cold particles, how unusual. When I did not move to take it from him, his happy expression seemed to fall slightly. Before he could feel more disappointment, I quickly leaned forward and grabbed it from his hand. Our fingertips brushed for a second and the doctor gulped, loudly. I loved wearing my copper hair in a simple bun, lined with fresh daisies. How coincidental that I had made myself a daisy crown just this morning, and now, the doctor had brought one for me. It wouldâve been endearing if it was from a suitor, but I havenât had one since I was sent to the asylum.
âEverything has a price, Doctor, what must I offer in exchange for this?â I found my voice, less shaky than I had expected. My insides were twisting in every possible direction, my heart hammering so fast it made me feel lightheaded. I wondered whether Iâd remember the doctor tomorrow morning still. It wouldnât be the first time I experienced sudden memory loss.
The doctor frowned, sitting back on the couch stiffly, âPerhaps, your honesty? Will you answer my questions?â
âWill you measure my head and poke at my skin like all those other doctors?â
âNo, Iâm not here to physically evaluate you. Iâm here to glance inside your mind.â
âThat unsettles me more than getting cut open to determine whether my blood is still red or not.â
âHad they done that to you?â
âYes, you should rather ask what had they not done to me, Doctor Jeong.â
The doctor gulped, his dark eyebrows pulled together now and his lips downturned. He fished for something in his pocket, and a small pair of spectacles were placed low on his nose. It made him look more mature, more serious. I wondered if he wore it so that the other doctors would take him seriously, or whether because his eyesight wasnât the best.
âI wonât cut you open, Miss Harold, I wonât even touch you during my examinations.â My heart skipped a beat despite hammering uncomfortably against my chest, and I wondered why. His words, however, did bring a little comfort.
âHow will you determine what is wrong with me, then?â I raised my eyebrows, my fingers popping when I released the tension from them. I laid my palms flatly against my sage green dress, and the doctorâs eyes fleetingly glanced at them.
âBy talking, by listening to your stories and thoughts.â The doctor spoke of a practice I hadnât heard of before, âIf you trust me, that is, your secrets will be safe with me.â
âWill they be?â I smiled, a little ashen, âThe committee will want to hear what I said, there are no secrets we can keep with each other, Doctor Jeong.â
The doctor hummed, an almost amused smile pulling at his lips, âMy profession requires me not to disclose anything personal, so, even if the committee wants to hear it, I wonât relay our conversations word for word, Miss Harold.â
I gulped, analysing the manâs face. He looked sincere, his eyebrows didnât twitch and he wasnât sweating despite the coat still around him. It was summer, and it was warm outside, albeit not inside the tea room, that is why the grand doors were opened to let the warmth in. This room reflected a lot about how I felt on the inside, always cold and hollow, waiting desperate for the warm sun to fill me up with its hotness until it burned me away. I wanted to burn, I wanted to be freed of all I had to endure until now.
âYou need my honesty, but are you willing to be transparent with me?â My question seemed to take the doctor off guard as his eyes momentarily widened. Then, he clasped his long fingers together and placed his arms on his thighs, leaning forward in his seat.
âAs long as it helps us move forward and remains professional, I can be transparent with you, Miss Harold.â
âYou mustâve read the reports about me, do you think Iâm mad, Doctor Jeong?â
âIsnât everyone a little mad, Miss Harold?â
âI donât know, you are the doctor between the two of us, Doctor Jeong.â
âIndeed, and I claim that nobody is without faults or sins.â
âThen you must be a religious person, no?â
âMy profession contradicts my beliefs, yes, but I do believe there is something stronger and greater than us, Miss Harold. If we ask for forgiveness, we shall be pardoned.â
âFather Leon would love to have you at his service, Doctor Jeong.â
The doctor chuckled, a small smile settling over his lips as I realised I hadnât looked away from the man since he had sat down on the couch. That was news. I never looked anyone in the eyes, as I didnât feel comfortable. I had been told by previous doctors that they could see straight to my soul, my wicked mind and rottenness in the blueness of my irises. Now I never looked long enough to let them see what was inside my eyes, but this doctor didnât seem to be afraid of me, of what he might find inside my eyes. Could he not see the darkness of my soul? Or was his faith so strong he preferred to spot the brightness before he was proven wrong by the wicked that permeated those like myself?
âDo you believe in God?â Doctor Jeongâs voice was louder than before, more filled with emotion as if my answer was crucial to him.
âI suppose I must. Everyone says the devil was the one to make me act like this, and I wonder where had God gone to let the devil do this to me.â Doctor Jeongâs cheeks became a darker colour as he licked his lips, mouth parting, but no words left it. I hummed, placing my right hand over my left one. Doctor Jeong wore one single band of silver ring on his middle finger on his right hand. He couldnât have been married, then, I concluded.
âPerhaps youâll find an answer to your question once I have done my job here.â Doctor Jeongâs tone caught a solemn note, but I said nothing as he grabbed his satchel bag and adjusted the collar of his white shirt. I watched the motion, eyes glued to the fair skin of his neck even as the man stood. His ears were flushing red too, I wondered why. I suppose the summer warmth had gotten to him at last.
âYou are leaving already, doctor?â I asked as I looked up, standing when I realised he was about to depart. My mother had raised me with good manners, I would have even walked him to the front door if it werenât for Karina suddenly barging inside, her jawline set tight as she sent me a fierce look of displeasure.
âEager to have him all to yourself, sister?â Karinaâs voice dripped with venom as she rushed further inside, rudely grabbing the doctorâs arm. What if he didnât want to be touched? Karina lacked the awareness to consider that for a second. The doctor remained silent as he looked between me and Karina, and I just chuckled, looking down to the floor.
âI already have him all to myself, no need to be eager about it too.â The forced smile on Karinaâs face wouldâve satisfied me, but now I wanted both her and the doctor gone from my sight. My heart was racing again and I couldnât breathe well, the tremors of my hands wouldâve made me spill my tea if I were to drink from it. Perhaps Matilda could accompany me around the gardens, I wished to become one with nature for the remainder of the day.
âI shall see you tomorrow, Miss Harold.â Doctor Jeong bowed his head slightly before he let himself be dragged away by Karina, who sent me a glare that wouldâve scared anyone else but me. I let them leave as I crumbled back onto the sofa, suddenly feeling faint. I couldnât decide whether the doctor would pick my mind apart or not, and it was scarier that I had no idea how heâd do it.
           The air felt oppressive and thick, yet I could see the doctorâs motorcar approaching in the distance. Matilda had been kind enough to accompany me on my walk around the gardens, but she had rushed me back inside the tea room when my mother sent a butler to alert us that the doctor was fast approaching. Now, sitting on a chair by the open grand doors, I could see the dark clouds gathering around in the distance. It was as if they were trying to chase the doctor away, but he kept approaching until the motorcar's engine died down and his heavy footsteps echoed around the house. There was a knock at the door as my eyes watched a small white bird on a branch of a tree, my mind absent. The heavy footsteps approached further inside, and I turned my head to look up at the doctor.
âHello, Miss Harold.â He said with an easy smile on his lips, holding his satchel bag in both hands. He didnât wear a coat today, and the sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up. His nape was sweaty as the top buttons were unbuttoned. The heat had finally gotten to him, it could get rather cruel in this part of the county.
âHello, Doctor Jeong.â The smile came easily to my face. Despite only meeting him yesterday, my heart wasnât racing like before. Perhaps it was the absence of his leather tool bag and the fact that the man was so young and innocent-looking. Before we could proceed, however, there was a knock at the door.
âDoctor Jeong,â Karinaâs unmistakable voice called out with a shake to it, âWould you like some tea before you start yourâŠexamination?â
âThe heat is already killing me, but thank you.â He declined with a gentle flick of his wrist, yet Karina lingered in the doorway. She was only looking at the doctor, her favourite dress ironed out and tightly cinched at the waist. I turned in my seat and watched her with amusement. She wasnât subtle at all.
âMay I help you?â The doctor asked, sounding confused as Karina stood still and slightly jumped, looking down abashed.
âNo, Iâm sorry.â Then she finally departed, closing the door behind her as Doctor Jeong had asked. I slowly looked up at the handsome doctor, finding his eyes with ease as his spectacles were close to slipping off his nose again.
âWonât you sit, Doctor?â I pointed towards the chair, which was placed a decent distance away from mine, just by the other door. The breeze had picked up into a strong wind now, it blew inside and rattled the sheer curtains. I welcomed it with closed eyes while the doctor settled in, the rustling of paper caught my attention as I slowly fluttered my eyes open once again. It was silent for a second as I looked at the doctor, who was already watching me. His pouty lips were parted and his ears seemed to be red. As my eyes travelled all over his fair skin, I noticed the glint of something silver underneath his white shirt. It appeared to be a necklace, and once he leaned forward to retrieve a pencil from his satchel bag, I spotted a silver cross hanging off it. He really was a believer, then.
âDid you want to sit here?â The doctor asked as he leaned back in his chair, crossing one long leg over the other. I hummed, clasping my hands together in my lap as the tremors slightly subsided. My heart was at ease, it finally wasnât frantic like during breakfast and my walk in the gardens.
âYes, I find nature most beautiful during this time,â I answered the doctor, turning my head to gaze at the white hydrangeas. Their scent was so strong I could almost taste it in my mouth.
âSo, you like storms, Miss Harold?â The doctor asked and I chuckled, turning my head away when there was lightning in the distance.
âNo, doctor, Iâm terrified of storms.â I smiled as the doctor paused, he was jotting down my words in his notebook, I came to realise. He quirked an eyebrow, so I continued, âMy father died saving me after I had fallen off the ship, the storm was terrible.â
The doctor hummed, his eyebrows slightly furrowing as he quickly noted what I had just said, âAre you afraid of water, then?â
âNo,â I shook my head, our eyes meeting and staying locked as if we had been hypnotised by each other, âIâm only afraid of the destruction a storm can cause, even on land.â
âHave you seen many of those?â
âYes, our neighboursâ barn was destroyed just last month, it was terrible.â
âHave you helped him?â
âAs much as a woman can help, yes, I offered them my servants to help rebuild the barn.â
âThen youâre caring.â
âI suppose, if you say so, Doctor.â
âDo you not consider yourself a caring person, Miss Harold?â I smiled, watching the doctorâs expression even out as his pencil pressed a hole into the thin paper of his notebook.
âAs a doctor, do you care for your patients?â I raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious since I hadnât met anyone like him. If he dissected the mind, he must care for his patients, no?
âWithin the limitations of my oath and law, yes, I do care for them.â Then the doctor seemed to consider his next words, licking his lips as his eyes bore into mine. They were wide and dark, and it was easy to get lost in them, âAll I wish is to do is find a cure for them, to see them walk free of their shackles.â
âCan you cure madness, Doctor Jeong?â My voice sounded small, almost afraid. The doctorâs eyebrows furrowed as he averted his eyes, messily scribbling something down in his notebook. As I peeked at it, I realised the alphabet I was familiar with blended with one I did not know. Perhaps it was his mother tongue, then.
âEvery person has a trigger, Miss Harold, if I find yours, I can cure it.â Then, he bit his bottom lip, and the added words were silent, âIf youâll let me.â
Silence stretched on, and I felt my heart race for the first time since I had seen the doctor today. It was unsettling, I felt my cheeks warm up. The redness from the doctorâs ears seemed to spread down towards his neck and chest, I wondered if his skin was as smooth as it looked at first glance. Then, without considering my next words, I let the truth slip past my chapped lips.
âI want to be free, sir, I donât want to live like this for the rest of my life.â I had been young when I was convicted. My fate could have been much worse, but the men my father had been once acquittanced with owed him one, so they came to my aid. My sentence was very generous, the judge deemed me mad and unfit to be locked up in a womenâs penitentiary, and instead, I was bound to constant surveillance for the rest of my life. Even when I slept, Matilda was there with me. Or my mother when the maid was too tired to continue keeping watch.
The doctor wetted his lips again, leaning slightly forward in his seat. The pencil was clutched tightly between his long fingers, and his tone had dropped lower too, âI can rid you of your burden if youâre honest with me, Miss Harold, I can set you free. But for that, you have to tell me everything that happened and made you do what you did.â
âWhy wonât you say it, Doctor? Have you not read the reports? I was the talk of the whole town, still am, actually.â
âSomething isnât right about the reports, have you been truthful in your testimony?â
âWouldnât I be breaching the law if I wasnât?â
âPeople lie all the time, Miss Harold.â
âMay God forgive me for my sins, then, Doctor Jeong.â
A vein in the doctorâs forehead bulged as his jawline strained, mouth open but no words leaving his pretty lips. He huffed, then leaned back in the chair, eyebrows furrowing deeply as he wrote messily in the notebook once again. I smiled as I watched him, his black hair fell into his eyes as he looked down. His spectacles threatened to slide down his nose altogether, and I itched to fix it for him.
âLetâs start at the beginning, then, shall we?â The doctorâs tone had turned uncharacteristically soft as if he was talking to a frightened child. There was a fire in his eyes as he looked up once again and I gulped, feeling unsettled under his sudden undivided attention. His left palm pressed into the side of his thigh, his fingers tapping his black slacks rhythmically. I gulped, then nodded.
âWhat would you like to know about me, Doctor Jeong?â
âTell me about your childhood. Your likes and dislikes, who is most dear to you and why. Have you loved before? Do you feel lonely now? Just tell me everything that crosses your mind.â
He wanted to know everything about me. It felt unravelling, dangerous. He had said my secrets would remain with him, would he note them down in the language only he spoke? Or would he tell the committee right after he was finished with his examination? Taking a deep breath, I turned my head to gaze outside once again, my lungs deflating as I exhaled long and loud. The lightning was closer now, the little birds were nowhere to be seen. Something coiled in my guts as my fatherâs face flashed behind my eyes, his warm smile and his kind tone still so present in my mind. If he were still here, perhaps nothing wouldâve happened. There would be no Karina and Mr. Brooks, I wouldnât be condemned for life.
âMuch like I am afraid of storms, Doctor Jeong, Iâm afraid of solace. It hadnât always been like this, while my father was alive, I had never felt alone for even a second. Heâd take me to the woods on horseback, weâd pluck flowers for my mother and heâd teach me everything he knew about the fauna and the poisonous mushrooms. Heâd read stories for me before bedtime, and he had even taught me how to read. He was my favourite person, now itâs my mother and Matilda. Sheâs a young maid, we had found her hiding in the stable last winter. She was almost frozen to death, I thought I might be giving her a second chance at life if I took her in as my personal maid. She doesnât speak much and I canât tell whether she hates me or not, but I know she loves it when I take her on walks in the garden. I think sheâs a little bit like me. Out there, in nature, we can both pretend to be free, just two girls roaming between flowers and giggling about the future.â The doctorâs hand seemed to be moving with my words, it was as if he tried to capture and note down everything I said. For that sole reason, I didnât speak quickly, I let the words settle both in his mind and on his paper.
âI suppose my childhood isnât anything special, I come from an aristocratic family, you must imagine what it was like. I was raised to have good manners and bow in front of men, but not without having an opinion and a mouth to voice them with. My father had been a fair man, he and my mother had always made every decision together, so he raised me to find a man who sees me as his equal and his other half. There had been moments when I had rebelled, I think that is only normal, but I was never a moody or explosive child. You can ask my mother about that, sheâll tell you so too.â I said as the doctor nodded along to my words, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. I took a deep breath and watched his face as I continued talking, âThere was only one thing I loved as much as I loved my father, and it was ballet. But that, too, was taken away after I was admitted to the asylum. Ever since then, I havenât touched my pointe shoes. I had even asked Matilda to hide them deep inside my closet, my heart breaks anytime I catch a glimpse of them.â
A lump formed in my throat just from speaking about it, I could feel tears in my eyes as I watched the tree branches move violently with the strong wind. The willow tree looked gorgeous in the wake of the storm, and I wished nothing but to step under it and close my eyes, let the wind destroy my bun and rip the fresh daisies out of my hair. I took a deep breath, trying to ignore the dark flashes of memories I had tried to forget so badly. The asylum was a cursed place, filled with evil people who only caused more harm. I hated it and everyone that was associated with it. I could feel the doctorâs eyes on me, and he gulped, inhaling sharply. I glanced at him, and he looked amazed for some reason.
âCan you tell me about the asylum, Miss Harold?â My muscles tensed despite the doctorâs soft tone, and my heart started racing painfully in my chest. I thought wringing my fingers tighter together would stop the tremors from worsening, but it didnât. I felt lightheaded as my own shrill screams echoed in my ears, but I couldnât speak. My bottom lip shook as I took a breath through my mouth, and shook my head frantically, âAlright, itâs alright, Miss Harold. We wonât speak of it, take deep breaths.â
The doctor leaned forward in his seat and I rigidly turned to face him, my eyes wide in fear as I waited for him to strike. Maybe his mask would finally slip, maybe the tools were hidden inside his satchel bag. The notebook, his scribbling, my storiesâŠmaybe they were all just distractions. And yet, the doctorâs eyes remained kind and ridden with worry as he seemed to breathe through his mouth as well, as if he was mirroring my actions. I closed my eyes as the first thunder shook the ground, and inhaled deeply, keeping the air in my lungs until I couldnât no more. I released the shuddered breath and opened my eyes again, only to see the doctor gulp, loudly. His pupils were dilated and made his eyes seem completely black, his fair cheeks flushed deeply as his long fingers tightened around his pencil once again.
âPerhaps we should end the examination here, Doctor Jeong.â My voice was strained as I gulped around nothing, âThe storm is here. You should head home before it worsens.â
As if nature had agreed with me, the air filled with electricity as lightning struck not far away, the thunder loud and following shortly after. Doctor Jeongâs jaw tightened, but he nodded, humming approvingly. He swiped his bottom lip with his thumb before he grabbed his satchel bag, adjusting his spectacles as they did slip off the slope of his nose. Thunder wracked the earth again as a colder breeze billowed past us, ruffling my dress and the hair that had fallen out of my bun. It also moved Doctor Jeongâs messy hair, jelled back and out of his eyes in an attempt to make him look classy. As the doctor stood, slipping the notebook inside his satchel bag too, I mirrored him, smoothing down my dress.
âI call what we do here sessions, Miss Harold, and not examination.â The smile was easy on his lips and I hummed, flinching when the wind slammed the grand door of the tea room against the wall. Perhaps it was time to close them, âI shall see you tomorrow?â
âOf course, Doctor Jeong, please take care on your way home.â My eyebrows furrowed in worry as Doctor Jeong nodded, opening his mouth to say something just as the door to the tea room was yanked open. The man in the doorway was unfamiliar, but he looked worried.
âMr Jeong, we should go now if we donât want to be stranded somewhere on the road during the storm.â He must be the doctorâs driver, then. My mother appeared behind the driver, looking as worried as if the doctor was her own child.
âWe have guest rooms, Doctor, you could always stay.â My mother was a kind and loving woman, her intentions hardly questionable, âI would hate it if something were to happen to you.â
âThank you, Mrs. Harold, but I shall be on my way.â Doctor Jeong smiled widely, then faced me once again, and bowed his head much like yesterday. Perhaps it was their custom to take farewell like that, so, I bowed back to him. The doctorâs eyes widened for a second before his smile widened just slightly, and then he and his diver were gone, my motherâs expression was worried as she watched them leave from the front porch. Big droplets of water started falling from the dark clouds, and I quickly closed the grand doors as Matilda rushed inside to assist me. The rhythmic fall of the rain was a glaring reminder of my irregularly fast heartbeat.
The eyes were windows to oneâs soul, or so Yunho had been taught. He had dealt with many cases during his practice period, and now as a certified psychiatrist, he had gained even more popularity in the West. He had no choice but to move at a young age, the world was an ever-changing place. He was young and curious, he wished to explore and find people that needed his expertise. But there was something so mesmerising about her eyes which left him unravelled and flustered like nothing else. Her words dripped with honey, and Yunho could swear he heard angels singing, accompanying her soft tone whenever she told stories. He was captivated. He ached to write down every single word she uttered, he felt desperate to pick apart her brain, to look inside it, to fix her. He was desperate to understand what had triggered her manic episode, he was desperate to tell the committee that she was innocent. But he was a doctor first and foremost, and his job forbade him from any personal attachment towards his patients. But whenever he looked into her icy blue eyes, the breeze brushing the fallen copper strands of her hair against her sun-kissed cheeks, he felt his very own soul stir and reach out in desperation to connect with hers, to possess it. She was a madwoman, and he was a man desperate to stay sane in her company.
           Another thing I completely wished to be free of was dinners, where I was forced to sit with my so-called happy family. The bags under Mr Brooks's eyes had been getting darker and darker lately, and the creases in his forehead were an obvious sign that something was worrying him. But it wasnât my place to ask questions, so I continued to silently notice the small changes in his mood and behaviour. He had stopped pampering Karina, which was completely unheard of, and she was loud and clear with her complaints. She had wanted a silk nightgown just last week, but her father had denied her of it. He didnât mention the cause, he only said she already has more than enough nightgowns. The clinking of silverware gave me something to focus on as my eyes were cast on the brussels sprouts on my plate, pushing around it as I didnât enjoy their bitter taste. But Mrs Humphrey had cooked dinner with love, so I didnât want to leave anything on my plate tonight. The silence around the table was broken as my mother grabbed her glass of wine, her kind eyes settling on me.
âY/N, my dear, how are your examinations going?â I paused, feeling everyoneâs eyes in the dining room on me. I gulped down the food I had in my mouth and tapped with a napkin at my lips, letting my hands fall in my lap as I hummed. Doctor Jeongâs words rang clearly in my mind, what we were doing was called sessions.
âThey are called sessions, âma, and they are going well,â I spoke gently, hoping sheâd find my words reassuring. I knew she was constantly worrying about me, always fussing and around thinking I wouldnât notice. I might be absent-minded a lot these days, but Iâm mostly aware of my surroundings still. Mr Brooks nodded once, looking pleased as he wolfed down the steak Mrs Humphrey had made to be spicey, just like Mr Brooks liked it.
âThat is lovely to hear,â My mother beamed at me, meanwhile Karina scoffed under her breath, âDo you find communication with the doctor difficult, perhaps? Or is everything clear between you two?â
Mr. Brooks nodded along, one eyebrow raised as he watched me curiously. I adjusted myself in my chair and plastered on a little smile, âDoctor Jeong is well-versed and rather attentive. He notes down everything I say in his notebook, and meanwhile, I have noticed he scribbles along in his mother tongue as well, I find no difficulties understanding him. Heâs coherent and speaks English as if he was born around here.â
âThatâs a very reassuring thing to hear, my dear.â Mr Brooks spoke up with a smile, the corners of his lips tugging up. Karinaâs jawline was set tight as she let her fork clamper down loudly against her plate, her eyebrows raised mockingly.
âWhy are we letting her spend time alone with that doctor, again? How is that helping her?â Her tone was high-pitched, filled with blatant jealousy that Mr Brooks and my mother remained oblivious to.
âSweetheart, weâve discussed this already,â Mr Brooks said with a tired sigh, giving his daughter a disapproving look, âY/N needs a new medical approach, and Doctor Jeong is the best in this field. He came all the way here from South Korea when he was still just an apprentice. Iâve read up on him, heâs solved cases of mass hysteria and other mental issues no doctor could even come close to. Letâs not have this conversation again, Karina.â
Mr Brooks was mostly calling me insane to my face, but his words held no malice and I knew his intentions were pure. I couldnât resent him for wanting to find a cure for me, something that could finally fix me. He had no obligation to look out for me like this, I wasnât his daughter by blood, yet he had only treated me with kindness and understanding my whole life. He was a good man, perhaps a bit too absent from the household, but I could see in his eyes that he loved my mother dearly, and that was more than enough for me to accept him into our home. He couldnât replace my father, but he filled the void that sometimes got too much.
âI think she just needs attention,â Karina hissed under her breath as she slammed her fist on the table, making the maids behind her jump, âWhat are you waiting for, stupid cunts?! My glass is empty!â
âKarina,â My mother muttered, her eyebrows pulled together as she gave her a displeased look while the poor maid scurried to fill Karinaâs glass with wine, âA lady shouldnât use such vulgar language, nonetheless in front of her elders.â
âYeah, whatever Mrs Harold.â She scoffed as she glared at the maid, taking big gulps of her wine. I watched with distaste, catching Leiaâs gaze for a split second. Her eyes were tear-filled and I bit my bottom lip to stop myself from speaking up, it would only start an argument I didnât have the mental capacity for right now. But Karina wasnât done as her sharp gaze fell on me, her tone harsh when she spoke again, âI know you enjoy spending time with the doctor alone, it makes you fantasize, doesnât it? Youâre just playing with him like with everyone else around you, sister, arenât you? How long do you reckon until you get him riled up enough to get underneath your skirtsââ
âKarina!â Mr Brooks's voice was loud and stern, his eyes set on his daughter with disgust in them, âHow dare you say such things to your sister? In front of me and her mother, nonetheless! You should be ashamed, is this who I raised you to be?!â
Karina chuckled, humourless, âRight, father, you didnât raise me at all, perhaps that is why I am like this. Maybe you shouldnât have admitted mother into an asylum because she didnât know how to silence a crying baby, hm?â
The silence that settled over the table made my skin crawl. If anyone wouldâve dropped a pin, everyone couldâve heard it in the dining room. I released a shaky breath, the tremors worsening as Mr Brooks seemed to be struggling with containing his rage in front of my mother. Her mouth was open and a hand pressed against it, eyes shaking with pain and incredulity as she looked between Karina and her second husband. I took a deep breath and pushed my chair back, grabbing my plate to try and stabilise myself, to stay in the present. Eyes fell on me, and before Leia could come to approach me, I shook my head with a small smile, âIâll let Mrs Humphrey know she outdid herself once again, then I will be retreating for bed. Matilda will accompany me, sleep well tonight, mother.â
As I left the dining room, I heard Mr Brooks weakly whisper a good night, then Karinaâs sobs as she raced up the stairs, slamming the door to her room loudly. The chatter and good mood died down the second the kitchen door swung open, Leia following inside after me. Mrs Humphrey looked concerned when she noticed me holding my plate and went to stand up and take it from me, but I quickly shook my head.
âNo, stay seated, Mrs Humphrey, dinner is absolutely delicious.â I said with a smile, and the other servants and maids seemed to relax as well, âWould you mindâŠif I finished my dinner here, with you?â
âOh, come here, my dear.â Mrs Humphreyâs frown was deep as she beckoned me over, making space for me between herself and our butler, Jesper. He was still a young boy, his eyes filled with a youthful spark, full of life and happiness. He offered me a small smile and placed mushrooms filled with cheese on my plate, knowing I loved them. I chuckled and thanked him, then looked over the table and realised I felt most comfortable when around these people. They were simple, they were happy, and they made the most of their days. They were free, away from societyâs judgemental eyes, and they lacked the prejudice the other aristocrats hadnât even tried to hide around me. I felt like I belonged at this table, and as the happy chatter picked up again and Jesper made small talk with me, with Carla eagerly interjecting sometimes, I could feel my tense muscles relax and the void in my chest disappear. For a little while only, while I was still at this table, enjoying my dinner with the people who looked at me as if I was just a human too.
           The doctor was quickly growing on me. I couldnât trust him, not yet, it would be too soon. Itâs been only a week since he started visiting me for our sessions, but I started believing that he wasnât playing a character when around me. He was genuine, his eyes sparkled curiously with each question he asked, his frown was always worried and it downturned his pretty pouty lips, and when he smiled, something warm seemed to flood my chest. I could only compare it to the sun, for I have never felt such warmth when gazing upon a man before. Not even when suitors were lining up in front of our house, asking for a chance at marrying me. The doctor was considerate and kind, he hung on to my every word. It was his profession, I knew he was only doing his job, but I couldnât help but imagine he was a man interested in me, his notebooks filled with poems and sketches of me. It was a far-fetched fantasy, but it managed to warm my cheeks anytime I dwelled on it.
I was out in the back garden as I found myself thinking about the doctor again, excited to see him today as well. We had left off at a rather culminating point of my story yesterday, I wondered if he was as eager as I was to hear the rest of it. Matilda wasnât feeling well today, and as my mother was in town, Carla was the one supervising me. I didnât mind the change, she was a chatty girl and easily kept me from detaching from reality. Here, in the garden, as I thumbed at the leaves of the flowers, Carla was still speaking about an encounter with a fairy. A supposed fairy as she believed in God and deemed the little creatures spawns of evil.
âTell me, young miss, do you believe it was Satan sending those fairies my way?â Carlaâs voice was full of wonder, âHave I done something bad to attract his attention to me?â
âI donât believe so, Carla.â I answered her quietly, my eyes following a bee as it flew from flower to flower, âYou go to church every Sunday.â
âPerhaps I should go from now on every Wednesday and Sunday, too.â Carla huffed, hands on her hips as she tried avoiding the bee that was flying towards her. I chuckled, straightening up. The scent of the hydrangeas was familiar as I closed my eyes, inhaling it deeply into my lungs so that they would stay there for a long time.
âI donât believe fairies are inherently evil, Carla.â I mused as the breeze brushed upon my cheeks, already flushed from the great heat. My dress was thin and simple, I couldnât wear pompous dresses during summertime, they were too hot. I would often feel lightheaded from the strong sun, the thick dresses would only make me faint. The white fabric was soft against my skin, and the white ribbons brushed against my nape as my hair was pulled into two small buns at the base of my neck. I couldâve performed on stage looking like this, but even so much as looking at my pointe shoes wouldâve hurt my soul. I didnât let the memories resurface despite the sudden melancholia that wished to break through my emotions, âFairies are small creatures that protect nature, maybe you had done something they didnât approve of. Did you disrespect their land, perhaps? Or did you step on a flower they had blessed before? Fairies are territorial beings, and they are also quite vengeful. But if you ask Father Leon to bless you after service, Iâm sure youâll be just fine, Carla.â
The scoff that followed my words wasnât coming from Carla. I didnât open my eyes as I became aware of heavier footsteps approaching, I had completely missed the engine of his motorcar. I felt Karina stop behind me, but I turned my head towards the sun, basking in it. I couldnât touch the celestial without burning to a crisp, but perhaps the one it had sent to me in human form was really here to save me. A clear of throat made me blink my eyes open, and I turned to look over my shoulder.
âIf you have nothing else but fairies to talk about, then I donât see why Doctor Jeong should entertain your madness any longer.â Karinaâs eyes narrowed at me, âYou belong in an asylum, sister.â
I smiled, a little amused, as an ugly grimace appeared on Carlaâs face upon Karinaâs comment. The maid made to open her mouth, which wouldâve landed her in trouble, but the doctor beat her to it, âThank you for walking me here, Miss Brooks. But Iâd like to be left alone with Miss Harold, now.â
âRight,â Karina muttered, shooting me a jealous stare, âShe gets to have you all to herself, as always.â
Then, she turned around and raised her skirt above her ankles to storm off. Carla nodded her head and followed after Karina, not in a hurry so that the woman wouldnât pick a fight with Carla as well. The doctor sighed, pushing his small glasses up the bridge of his nose, looking a little bit bewildered. Then, he looked at me and the crease from his forehead disappeared. I was already smiling at him, my hands behind my back to hide the bad tremors. I had felt faint all day, but the doctor was here finally and I could finally take my first breath of fresh air of the day. I couldnât help but smile widely at him, and watch as the flush from his ears quickly travelled down to his chest. Even more buttons of his loose white shirt were undone, the silver cross sitting against his chest now glinting under the sunlight. His trousers were high-waisted and the shirt was tucked neatly into it, a leather belt pulled around his waist. And there, in his right hand, was something white. I tilted my head in wonder as I looked at it, curious about what it was. The doctor liked bringing small gifts, mostly silly, but memorable.
âHello, Doctor Jeong,â I spoke up, and the doctor released a loud breath.
âHello, Miss Harold.â His voice shook slightly, then his fingers tightened around the strap of his satchel bag, âHere, I have something for you.â
Then he extended his right hand out towards me, and my eyes widened in surprise. I could tell the ballerina was made out of a napkin, I hadnât seen anything like it before. My hands shook despite trying to ease the tremors, and my fingers hesitantly curled around the present as our skin brushed together. The doctorâs cheeks flushed rapidly, and I found myself unable to look into his warm eyes. I wondered if it was the heat that made our hands so clammy. I looked at the ballerina in my hands, melancholy overtaking me once again. I longed to dance around in the garden, Mrs Humphrey and my mother as my audience now that my father was gone, but it only brought back bad memories. I was too faint to twirl around now, my legs werenât as strong as they once used to be. I would fall even before doing my first pirouette, it was depressing.
âHow are you feeling today, Miss Harold?â
âFaint, but itâs from the heat, Doctor Jeong.â
We stood unmoving, our eyes boring into each otherâs. I didnât want to move to the tea room just yet, perhaps I longed to sit under the willow tree. The doctor made no moves, and so I said nothing about heading for the house. We were in eyesight if anyone were to look through the kitchen window, and we werenât doing anything wrong.
âThank you for the gift, Doctor Jeong, did you make it yourself?â I asked with round eyes, unable to keep the smile off my lips. The doctor flushed darker and averted his eyes, thumbing at his wet bottom lip.
âYes, I thought it would cheer you up. I hope I wasnât wrong.â His tone was tender and just a little hesitant, the doctor was almost cute like this.
âIt did cheer me up, sir, I was thinking about ballet just now.â I paused, and waited for the doctor to look up into my eyes, âIt seems you can already read my mind, I wonder how you do that.â
The doctor smiled, his forehead exposed as his dark strands were brushed away from his eyes, âWe are making progress, then, reading your mind isnât as easy as one might think.â
âAnd why is that?â I asked curiously, fiddling with the napkin in my hands.
âBecause itâs very complex, you like to speak in riddles, and you evade most of my questions.â Then the doctor chuckled and I bit my bottom lip, averting my eyes in embarrassment, âYouâre cunning, but Iâm good at catching all the little hidden messages.â
I grinned at the doctorâs words, my suspicions confirmed. I knew I could play around with him, he seemed like a very smart man. Hearing he could read between the lines was more than satisfying. My heart skipped a beat, but it didnât start racing like before.
âDo you like hydrangeas, Doctor?â
âTheir scent is too intense for my liking, but they are pretty flowers, Miss Harold.â
âThey symbolise purity and gratitude, even vanity in some cases.â
âWhat do they mean in your case, then?â
âGratitude, Doctor Jeong, towards you.â Our eyes met again as I looked away from the white flowers, a sudden calmness settling upon my racing thoughts, âI hope the end of my story will be satisfying to you.â
The doctor gulped, loudly, then motioned towards the house, âWould you like to continue inside? Did you remember something of importance, perhaps?â
âCan we sit under the willow tree?â I raised an eyebrow, âMrs Humphrey can see us from the kitchen if thatâs of worry to you.â
âSure, if youâll feel comfortable.â The doctor nodded, fishing for his notebook and pencil as I hummed, leading us down the pebbled path, the willow tree was just by the end of it. The territory the house resided on came with a small pond, I liked watching the still water while sitting by the trunk of the willow tree. The doctor followed after me quietly, and he watched me settle down into the green grass, dress splaying out around me. It had ridden slightly up, exposing my shins as I pulled them underneath myself. The doctor seemed to be frozen, eyes glued to where my legs had been just seconds ago. Then, he gulped loudly and settled down next to me. He sat a little closer compared to the usual distance between our chairs, but his presence was soothing. I smiled as I faced him, eyes falling on his long fingers as he got comfortable, opening his notebook to where we had left off yesterday.
âI donât remember anything new, doctor, but we havenât reached that part of the story yet.â I smiled, then turned my head to gaze out at the pond, âWould you like to hear what happens next?â
The doctor exhaled, âYou told me this noble boy barged inside your house in the middle of the night? He mustâve been madly in love with you to do such a thing.â
I chuckled, eyes focusing on the dragonflies above the pond, âI suppose he was at one point, yes. But men are easily converted, I find love like my mother and father had once shared hard to find, doctor. Our love didnât last long, but Iâm getting ahead of myself. It was a cold spring evening and he had been visiting, drinking with Mr Brooks to ask for permission to marry me. My mother was present too, of course, but she couldnât say much against Mr Brookâs words. In the end, the proposal was accepted and the man left, only to come barging inside hours later.â
âWhy did he do that?â
âBecause he was drunk, and because he had something to say.â
âDid you hear him out?â
I chuckled, facing the doctor. His eyes were wide as he was watching me, pencil pressing against the white paper, âYes, I did hear him out, but his words made no sense. He said something about a lavished lifestyle and a farmhouse, and something about being happy together even in a later age, it was endearing but very inadequate.â
âSo, what did you do, then?â The doctor wasnât even writing down what I was saying, it made me chuckle. The corner of his lips lifted subconsciously, he looked amused too.
âNothing, I just kicked him out and told him to come back when heâs sober. His drunken words meant nothing to me. I did not want to marry a man who made foolish confessions in an inebriated state of mind, besides, he was a gentleman. He should have known better than to barge inside a ladyâs home well past midnight, no, Doctor Jeong?â I quirked an eyebrow, my question seemed to snap the doctor out of his staring. He cleared his throat and looked down at his notebook, pausing for a few seconds before he jotted something down. I couldnât read it, it was in a foreign language.
âN-noâI mean, yes, Miss Harold. That was rather inappropriate of him, I must imagine the discomfort he had created for you.â He had barely finished his sentence when a giggle bubbled past my lips.
âOn the contrary, Doctor Jeong.â I grinned, ducking my head down to hide my amusement as confusion crossed the doctorâs features, âIt was the most fun Iâve had in a while. Mrs Humphrey, my mother, and I had stayed up for hours giggling about it afterwards. We even made jokes about it and Mrs Humphrey let us drink her very secret brew that tastes like flowers but could knock out even a sailor with just two jugs. I have no idea what it is, but itâs very strong.â
The doctorâs eyes were filled with awe as I laughed, memories of easier times never failing to bring me in a good mood. It wouldâve been easier like this, if things stayed put and if Karina wouldnât have meddled with everything. I have faced hardships before, but having the person I considered my sister to betray me had stung like none other. In the end, neither one of us got what we wanted, just a lot of animosity and a tension-filled relationship. Sometimes I wanted to ask Karina if all of it was worth it, but I knew not to entertain an already greedy person.
âAnd how does this memory make you feel now?â Doctor Jeongâs tone was airy, and he wasnât looking at me as he was scribbling in his notebook. I pondered for a second before I placed my hands on the grass, gripping it tightly between my fingers. Sometimes the tremors stopped when I grabbed something too hard.
âBittersweet, but mostly happy. Iâm grateful I was able to experience all of that at least once in my lifetime, others arenât as lucky as I am. I am well aware of that.â The doctor nodded along as I spoke, but then he paused writing and looked at me with a frown.
âAnd when you think of that man? How does he make you feel, Miss Harold?â I gulped, not having expected that question. But it was easy to answer, Iâve pondered many times over this specific question, there wasnât anything the doctor could surprise me with anymore. I smiled softly but knew the doctor could feel the shift in my mood.
âMostly angry that I wasted years on that man when I couldâve found someone more decent, more loving.â Then I shrugged and watched as the doctor licked his lips, adjusting his spectacles on his nose, âDo you believe that God has everything planned for us, Doctor?â
âMostly, yes, but we have enough free will to change the direction of our lives.â The doctor answered, his eyebrows furrowed in thought. I hummed, plucking the grass from the ground forcefully. My knuckles ached from how hard I had gripped onto it.
âYou canât run from what is meant for you, Doctor Jeong, we wouldâve never met if I wouldnât have gone mad.â But Doctor Jeong didnât seem to be too convinced by my words. He chewed on his bottom lip, sweat rolling down between his pecks. I gulped, then averted my eyes from his exposed fair skin, and instead focused on his beautiful round brown eyes, âAre you glad we got to meet?â
The manâs eyes widened at my forward question, but I meant no harm nor did I have questionable reasons to ask such a thing. The doctor cleared his throat, playing with the pencil in his hands as he thought his answer over, âIâll be glad once you are back to being yourself, until then, I cannot allow myself to feel any sort of satisfaction.â
âDonât you think my madness is part of me, now?â I muttered, gazing off towards the house. The curtain in the kitchen moved, but I knew it wasnât Mrs Humphrey. She was out in town with my mother at this hour. Doctor Jeong inhaled sharply, then closed his notebook loudly. The paper made a noisy sound, making me look over to him. The man looked aggravated as if my question had bothered him immensely, but I was merely curious about how he viewed me.
âPerhaps we should continue tomorrow, Miss Harold, and we must proceed with the story. The committee is pressing me with questions, they are very curious to hear the full story.â The doctor was avoiding my question, that was unusual. He stood, brushed the dirt off his trousers, then hastily grabbed his satchel bag and clumsily placed the notebook and his pencil inside.
âThank you for indulging with me, Doctor Jeong.â I looked up at him, and had to shield my eyes from the sun, âI love sitting under the willow tree.â
âI will keep that in mind, Miss Harold, have a nice afternoon.â The doctor then bowed his head and I mirrored his actions, then he was rushing back towards the house, looking a little rigid. Karina stood in the doorway to the tea room, a tray filled with cookies and lemonade in her hands, but Doctor Jeong merely nodded at her and left the house in haste. Karinaâs glare could be felt even from the distance, and I gently stood to head back inside, keeping the arrangement in mind. I wasnât supposed to be unsupervised, I knew Carla would be in the laundry room if she had nothing else to do.
Yunho couldnât sleep. He kept reading over and over his notes, all the small hidden messages making his head ache. His stomach growled in hunger, but he was physically unable to stand from his study and ask the housekeeper to prepare dinner for him. The girl was frail, she was soft-spoken but witty. She liked to keep him on his toes, and she was great at making him lose track of what was most important. He felt like he was making no progress, yet the committee kept pressing him for an answer. Father Louis was understanding enough not to ambush him with questions daily, but the rest of the officials werenât. They wanted a diagnosis of Miss Harold already, they didnât want to understand that Yunho couldnât give his verdict in anything but a week. Building trust took time, getting to hear the unfiltered truth from someone who loved to play with her words took patience. Yunho was a patient person, but he wondered how long he had until heâd break. Whenever he closed his eyes, he felt as if she was watching him, standing over him, smiling at him. Her skin was sun-kissed and sometimes her cheeks were burnt from staying out in the sun for too long, but Yunho knew her skin would be soft. When he had twisted and turned his napkin into shapes, absentmindedly, he realised he had made a ballerina out of it. Thus, he had made his first mistake as a professional. He had allowed himself to sympathise with Miss Harold. He had allowed himself to notice her smile was brighter than the sun itself, and that she smelled an awful lot like those hydrangeas that Yunho was allergic to. And he had allowed himself to notice the tremors of her hands, making him yearn to hold her frail hands between his with the hopes of soothing her nerves. Yunho wondered if she yearned for him like she had yearned for her once lover.
           The clouds were almost black as they expanded over the horizon. The wind was too cold for us to keep the grand doors of the tea room open, so they remained closed as I sat on the soft sofa, gazing out through the glass. Matilda had left the curtains undrawn for me, and a few scented candles were lit to ease my muscles' tension. I couldnât focus lately, these past three days my mood had quickly reclined. I know the doctor had noticed it too, but he didnât prod more than it would be considered rude. I was reluctant to tell him the cause of my moroseness, he wasnât here to listen to me weep about how unfairly Karina treated me. She had been ruthless these past three days. I knew she had a vendetta against me, but ever since the doctor started coming here, she had been progressively getting worse and worse. I could handle it until I couldnât. If I ignored her and got lost in a deep spot in the back of my mind filled with happy memories, I would end up with a backhanded slap to my face. If I talked back and stood my ground, I would only fuel her fire, giving her power over me. Karina was clever, she knew when to strike. If my mother was around us, she was an angel. If the servants were watching, sheâd be sharp and arrogant towards me. If Mr. Brooks was present, she didnât bother hiding her disdain, but she wasnât as straightforward as around the servants.
She didnât hold back one bit if it was just the two of us. My eyes were lost on the gloomy visage, eyes tracking the swaying vines of the willow tree. It was even more beautiful in the eyes of the storm, I couldâve stared at it for hours on end. My mind was silent like this, absent of all the turbulent thoughts that shook me to my core and kept me up at night, when Matilda, poor girl, struggled to stay up and look over me. Just last night, she had fallen asleep, and I was grateful because I had a moment to myself where I could secretly slip away and walk through the gardens in hopes of clearing my mind. It wasnât a smart decision, however, because I couldnât remember anything after I stepped through the threshold of the house. I just know sometime later I was gasping for air as my arms were restricted and my throat was scratchy, Mr Brooks desperately trying to hold down my trashing body. My white nightgown was dirty with mud and the ends of it were dripping wet with pond water. It wasnât foreign that I would lose consciousness if something lay heavily on my chest and gnawed at my thoughts, but it had been long since I had lost track of myself so deeply. Not since the incident, at least.
And Karina was enjoying it, her lips pulled into a nasty smirk as my mother cried by my side, asking Matilda and Leia to bring cold towels and help me clean up. Mr Brooks had looked tired as he gently helped me back to my room and tucked me into bed, his eyes pained and suffering as if I was blood-related to him. His expression made me feel guilty for worrying not just my mother, but also him. I felt terrible, yet I couldnât control my mind or my body when these episodes happened. Even now, as I sat on the sofa waiting for the doctor to arrive, I felt lightheaded and on the brink of losing consciousness. My body felt light and heavy simultaneously, and I could feel my pulse in my neck. My lips felt chapped no matter how much tea I drank, and my throat was tight. I wanted to see the doctor, I needed to tell him why I had done what I had done. I had always been too afraid to confess the truth, not wanting to hurt my mother and break up the second family she cherished. But I also couldnât continue living like this, not when Karina prayed for my downfall. Her harsh words from yesterday were still fresh in my mind, and I had to blink the tears away for a second.
âI know youâre just a whore, desperate to find another man to toy with.â She had spat with flushed cheeks, a cup filled halfway with wine in her hand, âDo you seriously think that doctor wants to touch you? Youâre a deranged woman now, Y/N, nobody will want you. Not even Doctor Jeong Yunho, you whore. I wonât let you have him too, you always get what you wantâbut not this time, Y/N, mark my words.â
And just when I had thought she was done, she had marched up to me and grabbed me by the throat harshly, making me gasp, âIf he doesnât send you to an asylum, I will kill you myself, Y/N. Youâre an abomination and a disgrace, even your own mother hates you, whore.â
The knock at the door startled me, I had been lost deep in thought. I turned my head and noticed Matilda giving me a small smile, âYoung miss, the doctor is here to see you. Would you like me to prepare anything for you two?â
My heart skipped a beat, but I couldnât tell why. Perhaps because I knew heâd take my mind off things, even if I was forced to relive the past I tried to bury deep down, sequences I couldnât even remember anymore. Or, maybe, it was because I desperately wished to gaze upon his soft face, lose myself in his warm and round eyes peeking at me over his small spectacles. I couldnât decide which was the reason, but I needed his presence to calm my turbulent mind and body finally.
âThank you. I will welcome him inside, and you can take a break.â I stood up, hands balling into fists as nausea washed over me, âWe wonât need anything, but I hope you get some sleep, Matilda. Youâve been watching over me for three days.â
âThat is my duty, young miss.â Then she bowed her head before I could tell her she needed to take care of herself, and she took her leave. I smoothed down my long-sleeved dark blue dress now that the weather wasnât as warm as days ago. I hadnât pulled my hair into a bun today, even if it was not ladylike, I wished to feel my copper strands brushing against my cheeks when I moved my head. It shielded my face like a curtain if I didnât want to be seen, I hoped Doctor Jeong wouldnât mind.
Sucking in a deep breath and bracing myself, I left the tea room in search of the doctor, who should have been in the foyer, getting rid of his coat and dress shoes, but instead, he wasnât there. I paused for a second to listen for his voice, and a smile pulled at my lips when I realised he was in the living room. Perhaps we could hold our session inside there today, I could play the piano and show him my favourite piece, if that, of course, was deemed fine by the doctor. As my fingers brushed against the wooden door, about to push it further open, I realised the doctor wasnât alone. Karinaâs sweet giggles flooded the room before she continued speaking.
âSurely, Doctor. I am pleased to hear you do not burn yourself out by coming here daily. I can only imagine how tiring it must be to listen to my sister, sheâs rarely coherent. You must have noticed, given that you are a doctor, that she often has no idea where she is or who she is talking to. She tends to get lost in her own mind and blabber on about nonsense.â Karina then paused as my heart raced, my eyebrows furrowed in distaste, âShe looks completely normal upon first glance, but it quickly becomes obvious sheâsâwell, sheâs insane, you know?â
âIâm sorry, Miss Brooks, I cannot be discussing this with you.â Doctor Jeongâs voice was neutral, and cold, unlike the tone he used with me, âBut as a licensed doctor, given that I am one, I can tell when her surroundings influence her mood, or why she is in a bad headspace.â
Karina scoffed, sounding a little offended, âAre you insinuating anything right now, Doctor Jeong? I donât need a license to be able to tell that my sister is insane. How long until you realise sheâs just trying to trap you here, twirl you up into her web of lies and fantasies? If you think you can help a mad person, Doctor, I fear you should seek help too. Sheâs beyond help, sheâs desperate and pathetic, and as I have stated, sheâs madââ
âI am not mad!â Before I could stop myself, I let my anger take over me as I barged through the ajar room, âI am not insane, Karina, youâre always putting words in my mouth! Who has ruined everything I have ever had, huh?! You, you did, so donât call me your sister. I am not your sister, and I will never be, you filthy skank!â
Karina gasped loudly, her hand flying up to her mouth. The doctorâs eyes had widened too, clearly taken aback by my outburst. I had been soft-spoken and kind in front of him, careful to not show anything he could incriminate me with in front of the committee. Karina had gotten what she wanted all this time, I suppose. Now, the doctor would make an early report that wasnât favourable for me without even hearing the truth, or as much as I could remember of it. I gulped, feeling ashamed as tears filled my eyes, but I tried to keep myself from crying. Karina wailing like a banshee next to Doctor Jeong was more than humiliating enough to force me to keep myself in place.
âEnough,â The doctor snapped, his friendly and soft features morphing into something of anger and vexation. For a second, I thought it was directed towards me, but then he turned his head and his warm chocolate brown eyes fell on Karina, now sharp, âThis is the last time I let you off the hook, Miss Brooks. If you donât stop treating your sister so poorly, I will have to write you up on the board as the main suspect that causes Miss Haroldâs turbulent manic episodes to occur, is that what you want? Do you wish to also be psychologically evaluated? I can do that, I can get one of my colleagues to come out here and question you, but you might be surprised to find yourself deemed insane too.â
Doctor Jeongâs words visibly shook Karina as she crumbled into an armchair, fingers sinking into her hair as she shook her head at the doctor, crocodile tears streaming down her cheeks pathetically. My heart was racing in my chest, the doctor was all I could see. His flushed cheeks from anger, his whitening knuckles around the strap of his satchel bag, his rapidly rising and falling chestâJeong Yunho had stood up for me, taken my side. He was my doctor, he was supposed to look out for me, but he wasnât obligated to protect me from claims that might be true. I didnât feel insane, I never had, but Karina might still be right. Maybe I was a danger to society and Doctor Jeong hadnât discovered why yet. It was only a matter of time until I exploded in his face, showing him my true colours. I had no idea what I was fully capable of, that part of my memory was still absent, but I could never forget the feeling of pure satisfaction and elation as I watched Karina lay on her back, gasping for air as blood trailed from her nose down to her mouth, chin, and then neck.
Doctor Jeong sighed loudly, his eyebrows furrowed as he licked his lips, shaking his head in almost disappointment at Karina. Then, he faced me and his features instantly softened. My heart raced again, and I hid my hands behind my back. Then, without many words, he came closer to me and nodded with his chin towards the stairs, âWould you mind if we skipped the tea room today, Iâd like a more private setting.â
I gulped, feeling lightheaded once again, âNo, the storm ruins the pretty visage either way.â
The doctor hummed as I turned around and took off towards the stairs, his strong footsteps loud behind me. My hands trembled as we ascended the creaky old stairs, my fingertips tracing the old railing. Doctor Jeongâs fingers were close to mine, tracing the same pattern as mine, so close yet so far away at the same time. I exhaled softly and tried to keep a clear head, but my nausea was getting worse as I led the way to my bedroom. My mother wouldâve been outraged by the idea of leading a man inside my room, but this was the doctor, he was here to help. I couldnât think of a more private room than my own bedroom, the heavy door closed and locked once we were inside. The doctor seemed to tense when he heard the lock, his back to me. I felt exposed, a little naked, now that the man was in my intimate space. There wasnât much to my room except for a desk filled with books and poorly done sketches, and a vase filled with daisies and tulips. The doctor headed for my desk, meanwhile, I headed for my bed. The sheets were satin and silky as I lowered myself onto the edge of my bed, letting my hands sink into the fabric. With a questioning glance, the doctor turned my chair around to face me and sunk into it with a heavy sigh.
âI apologise.â My eyebrows rose in surprise as I tilted my head in question, âFor letting your sister speak like that of you, I should have never let her go that far. I shouldnât have even let her corner me like that and-andâit doesnât matter. I understand if you need space after this, I might be able to convince the committee to give me a few more weeks.â
âSheâs not my sister.â I whispered as I wrung my trembling fingers together, looking down in my lap, âKarina is not my blood sister, Doctor Jeong. I might have viewed her once as a sister, but not anymore.â
The doctor fumbled around for his notebook and pencil, which had gotten smaller from having sharpened it so often. The doctorâs eyebrows were furrowed as he pushed the spectacles up on the bridge of his perfect nose.
âDoes this have to do anything with what happened on that day?â The doctorâs voice was gentle, understanding even. I bit my lower lip and nodded slowly, feeling my head swarm around uncontrollably. Would he know what to do with me if I were to pass out? He is a doctor, after all, but Matilda is the one who knows me best, perhaps I shouldnât have locked the door.
âShe-she reallyâhurt me that day, and Iââ My throat felt dry as my lungs started heaving for air, âI donât knowâmaybe I did want her to di-dieâI canât do this right now, Doctor Jeong, Iâm sorry.â
Doctor Jeongâs bottom lip was between his teeth as he suddenly let his notebook rest on the desk behind him. He leaned forward, lowering his head as he tried to make eye contact with me. I gulped and kept my gaze focused on my tremor-ridden hands, âListen to me, Miss Harold, we donât have to talk about it today. Iâm just here to chat, I can tell you are not feeling well. Your mother informed me through a letter that you had hurt yourself last night, may I know what happened? Can you tell me? I wonât even take notes, just this one time.â
I gulped, slowly raising my eyes to look up at the doctor. He wore a tight beige shirt today with a dark blue vest over it, his pants snugly fitting his long legs. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows, showcasing his fair and smooth skin, veins bulging through. The wristwatch on his left hand looked fancy, the leather a very dark blue to match his vest. Doctor Jeongâs dark hair was swept back once again, but it looked fluffier today. I itched to reach out and run my fingers through his hair, wanting to feel its softness for myself. I tensed my muscles before I could do anything stupid like that. The doctorâs cheeks were slightly flushed, and his tooth was leaving a small white dent in his bottom lip. Because he was leaning forward, there was less distance between us, but still respectable. Like between doctor and patient.
âIââ I chewed on my bottom lip before taking a deep breath, âI havenât been feeling well lately, Doctor, so I couldnât sleep last night. I went for a walk andâŠI donât remember what I did or what happened. Sometimes I lose consciousness while Iâm awake, itâs frightening. I woke up with a muddied nightgown and a cut on my arm, Matilda had patched me up though.â
âHow often does this happen?â
âNot that often.â
âDo you have an idea what may cause it?
âWell, yes. I think itâs Karina, sheâs been antagonising me for the past three days and Iâm so tired of it all. I just disassociate when I see her approaching me now, Iâm sorry.â
The doctor sighed, rubbing his bottom lip with his thumb. His spectacles had slipped lower once again, âDo not apologise, you havenât done anything wrong. Iâm just glad youâre alright, Miss Harold.â
âThe thought of you visiting daily keeps me afloat, Doctor Jeong, I have something to look forward to now.â I smiled, widely, and the doctorâs eyes widened before he blinked rapidly, looking stunned. Afraid the moment of lightness would pass by before I could grasp it, I continued, âWould you mind telling me your story today? What itâs like where you are from? How you were as a child? Is thatâŠis that unprofessional? Are we not allowed to speak about you, Doctor?â
Doctor Jeongâs gulp was loud, then he took a deep breath and slowly leaned back in his chair, his legs spreading wide. He looked conflicted for just one second, but upon a glance at my face, he gave in. I couldnât help but beam at the doctor as he chuckled, taking his spectacles off to place them on the desk behind himself.
âWhere should I even start?â He hummed, looking towards the window, lost in thought. He was gorgeous, and he was kind. I hadnât met a man like him before, I wished to trace my fingers along his jawline, but Karina was right. I couldnât be a whore, not with this man, âAs a child I was energetic and always blabbering on about whatever was inside my mind. I liked to ask a lot of questions, but I was reprimanded often for being too curious. Life isâŠdifferent in South Korea at this time, very much different compared to how things run here. I am lucky I managed to sail so far away, my family has made great sacrifices for me to end up here. Iâm not even able to send them often letters, itâs too risky.â
âWhy?â
âBecause they are in hiding, our belief in God is frowned upon, Catholics arenât safe there now.â To prove a point, Doctor Jeong grabbed the silver cross underneath his shirt and brought it forward, clutching it tightly in his hands, âI can bravely say it here despite the other religions that exist, nobody has tried to murder me for it, so far. Besides, I cannot tell whether they still live where we did before I managed to sneak onto a French ship and escape. The elite class isnât like the one here, itâs falling apart and I cannot be sure that my family are still part of it today.â
My eyebrows furrowed as an ashen look crossed the doctorâs face, âDo you miss your home?â
âYes and no,â The doctor answered truthfully, âI was young when I sailed here, I had nothing and no one until my foster father found me. He was a Dutchman, very kind but unforgiving. I got lucky because he was a doctor and I came here to study advanced medicine with the hopes of once returning home and spreading the word, but I cannot go back, not yet. Theyâd shun me away, shame me and possibly kill me. South Korea isnât welcoming of strangers yet, and in their eyes, Iâd be one too for leaving our homeland only to return with new doctrines. Even if it means saving hundreds of lives. Not that I work with the physical body, but everyone needs someone who can soothe their soul once in a while.â
âYouâre beyond courageous, Doctor Jeong, I admire you.â I sounded breathless as I closely listened to the doctor, making sure no word he uttered slipped by my ears. I wanted to know more about him, who he was and why he chose to be here. I couldnât imagine being on my own, out on the streets, away from my mother, âI promise not to waste your time here, Iâm almost at the end of my story.â
âI know, Miss Harold,â Doctor Jeong smiled softly, âRather an acquittance than your doctor, Iâd like to tell you that I look forward to our sessions. You are easy to connect with, and you donât make it hard for me to glimpse inside your mind. I cannot say I understand each choice youâve made, but thatâs the beauty of having free will and individual thoughts, it sets us apart and makes us unique.â
I couldnât help but blush as I averted my gaze from his intense one, feeling shy all of a sudden. The doctor wasnât calling me specifically unique, but the implication was there, and I couldnât help myself but imagine, âWhat about your home? What was that like, Doctor Jeong? And your family?â
For a second, he was silent. It made me think I had offended him in some way, but then his eyebrows slightly furrowed and he looked serious, âSince I am not talking to you as your doctor, you should just call me Yunho, if I mayâŠY/N?â
Hearing my name fall from his lips had my heart racing and my breath shuddering. I gulped, feeling speechless for a second as my eyes bore into Doctor Jeongâs, wondering if the man knew what it meant to drop such drastic formalities. But I obliged because I wanted his name to roll off my own lips like mine had done on his, desperate to fortify this frail bond between the two of us, doctor and patient, âRight, of courseâŠYunho.â
Doctor Jeongâs eyes fluttered shut for a second, his gulp was loud. I watched redness coat his ears down to his neck, his fingers digging into the wooden armrests. He was still wearing the silver band around his middle finger, I wondered whose it was. Was it from someone back home? Or was it from his foster father?
âRight, Y/N, well my home certainly was smaller than your house, and also built with different architecture in mind. And people donât wear these fancy suits at home, we have our own traditional clothes that we proudly wear. I still have the one I arrived in tucked away as a means to never forget where I come from.â Doctor JeongâYunhoâsmiled softly, eyes glazed over with memories as he spoke quietly, almost as if to himself, âI have a younger brother, heâs the loveliest. I didnât want to leave him home, not even my father and mother, but we wouldâve been discovered if we were to run away together. My mother sent me off sobbing, clutching me to her chest and wondering if weâd see each other ever again. My father was a stoic man, but he had cried too. He had enough faith in me and God to know Iâd make it out alive and become what they sent me away for. I left a dear friend behind too, but he promised to follow me one day. I do not know if weâll see each other, perhaps heâs wandering around on a completely different continent, but at least I have something of his with me.â
My eyes flickered towards the silver band Yunho was absentmindedly playing with, his lips set in a tight line. So, the ring was from someone he dearly loved and cherished, I wished I could reach out and pat his hand to offer him comfort. But Yunhoâs solemn look switched into one of contentment as he looked at me again, âOur house was in a lovely neighbourhood, filled with silence and the chirping of birds each early morning. Our servants were few, so they lived with us, and they had quickly become part of the family too. I would play in the dirt with my brother when our mother was busy in the kitchen, overlooking the cooks while also helping out. Our father worked long hours but he always returned with fresh flowers for my mother and some sort of western delicacy nobody was allowed to know about. I would often take walks on the beach, if thereâs anything I miss terribly, itâs the wide sea and the calmness it brought with itself.â
âI love sailing,â I muttered, tucking my hands underneath my thighs as I hummed, âDespite whatâs happened to my father, I find solace in the sea. It silences my fears, much like taking walks in the garden does. I feel like I belong to nature, that I can easily become one with it.â
âNature is a beautiful place,â Yunho hummed, swiping his thumb against his bottom lip, watching me closely, âYouâd love exploring the world.â
I chuckled sadly, âI would, Yunho, but Iâm forced to rot away in this house under the very eyes of my servants and family. I canât even be left alone here, sometimes I want it all to stop. Tell me, have you travelled a lot?â
Yunho looked abashed as he shrugged one shoulder, âEnough to see all sorts of places, people, and cases. Not each one had a happy ending, but I had learned something from each of them, so it was worth it in the end.â
âI wish to see the world, Yunho. I donât want to be caged in here anymore. Could you set me freeâno, will you set me free, Yunho?â
âIâIâll try, I really will, Y/N. If you tell me the truth, I can help you and write a promising report on your case. But you have to be transparent with me for that to happen.â
âWhat if they donât agree with you? See me as unstable and a danger to society, what then? Will I require a caretaker still?â
âIâm afraid, yes. Perhaps youâll have even more severe surveillance, Iâm sorry. I truly promise to do my best, but you have to trust me.â
âAnd what ifâŠwhat if you became my caretaker?â
The silence that followed my question felt heavy, it felt wrong. I shouldnât have asked that, but I was desperate to know how far Doctor Jeong would go to prove I wasnât insane. And perhaps, a hidden sadistic part of me wanted to know just what exactly the doctor would do for me, to me.
âThat would imply you are very unstable, I donât think Iâve ever heard of such a thing.â Doctor Jeong breathed out, reaching for his spectacles.
âBut would you become my caretaker?â I whispered, gazing up into his eyes with yearning as the doctor abruptly stood, âI wish to see the world, the places you go to. I wish to see South Korea once youâre allowed to go back, Yunho. Would you take me with you?â
He was packing his things frantically, breathing through his mouth loudly, âI cannot tell, Miss Harold, it implies great responsibility to look over someone unstable. Given if you were the object of my desires, I wouldnât even consider becoming your caretaker, but Iâm your doctor and itâs inappropriate.â
âIsnât it only inappropriate if you make it that?â I stood, facing the doctor before he could run off. He looked conflicted and angry, so I backed off, âMy apologies, I have taken you for granted and stepped over our boundaries as doctor and patient. I hope I havenât made you too uncomfortable, Doctor Jeong, thatâs not what I wished to do. I hope you can forgive me.â
âI will be back tomorrow, and you must tell me what happened, Miss Harold.â With a nod of his head, the doctor was at my door, quickly unlocking it, but he didnât twist the knob right away. He took a deep breath and released it with a whisper, âAnd I would become your caretaker, if I could.â
His footsteps echoed through the house just as lightning struck in the distance. I walked to the window and watched the doctor get onto the motorcar as his butler drove away, trying to avoid the storm. And then, just like that, the world started spinning as blackness threatened to coat my vision.
           My knuckles were bloody from having picked at the skin consistently since I was awake. The tremors from my hand have extended to my whole body, my head felt underwater. I couldnât understand what was happening around me, but I jumped each time thunder rumbled the earth. I know I had been placed on a chair in front of the window in my bedroom, Matilda sitting in the corner with my mother regularly checking on me, but I couldnât tell what was being said to me or done around me. I didnât have an appetite this morning, and getting out of bed was harder than ever before. I knew something was wrong, that something had disturbed my peace of mind, but I had no idea what this sudden change in my mood meant. I tried to break through the veil of haziness and speak to Matilda, tell her that my head was throbbing and my joints ached from how wrung up my body was, but my lips formed no words. I tried using the breathing technique Mrs Humphrey had once taught me, but nothing was working. I wasnât able to control my body, and it was only making me more anxious.
The door to my room opened, but I continued to look out the window absentmindedly, bracing myself for the loud rumble when lightning struck again. After the doctor left yesterday, it hadnât stopped raining ever since. I knew he couldnât make it today, but he was determined enough to push through the storm and visit me. Unless it was a serious issue that needed to be urgently taken care of, the doctor never cancelled our session. The thought of seeing him when I felt so unwell managed to calm my racing heart, but until he was actually standing in front of me and I could gaze into his deep eyes, I couldnât help but take shallow breaths as my muscles tensed up even more.
âLook at you,â It was Karinaâs voice unmistakably, âtrembling and sweating like a dying child, arenât you? Who are you acting for, hm? The doctor isnât here, Y/N, no need to act all pitiful like this, nobody in this house cares about you.â
Her voice was crystal clear for some reason, it made my ears ring as I released a shuddering breath. My mind was so askew that I couldnât even answer her, I just needed a warm embrace and a deep voice to whisper that everything was fine. Did nobody care about me? That was so depressing, it brought tears to my eyes.
âBesides, heâs not coming today.â I failed to inhale as Karina continued to speak, âHe sent a letter to your mother that he couldnât find a carriage in time, so he isnât coming. How tragic, all this acting only for him to not witness itâŠâ
The sound that left my mouth was quiet, but unmistakably a whimper. Matilda shifted in her armchair and cleared her throat. I could see Karina through the reflection of the window, she was smirking maliciously as she stared at the back of my head. She looked so pleased with herself, that it made tears stream down my cheeks. I wanted to say something, but the lump in my throat was getting tighter and tighter, I realised I had stopped breathing. Why wouldnât Yunho come? Was he like Karina too, did he not care about me? Did he lie to me yesterday? Was I worth so little that he couldnât take on being my caretaker? Why must this be my fate? Why must I be forced never to leave this estate, this house, trapped under the eyes of people who either hate me or pity me? I wanted to sob, but the more I tried to breathe, the quicker I realised dark spots had started appearing in my vision.
âI donât know what you two do during your little sessions, but the committee has given him one more week before he has to make his final report,â Karina chuckled, I heard her coming closer, fingers gripping the back of my chair, âAnd then, heâll be all mine. I already talked to my father and he considers Doctor Jeong a nice suitor, how exciting. You canât have him, Y/N, and he wonât have you either. I see the way you look at him, you are pathetic.â
Karinaâs warm breath fanned my ear and cheek as she whispered her last words, cackling like an evil witch in all those fairytales my mother had told me about. My mouth parted to inhale deeply, but the spots grew darker, becoming more.
âMiss Brooks, please,â I heard Matilda plead as she sprung up from her seat, âLeave young miss alone, she isnât feeling well.â
âOh, shut up, you silly goose!â Karina snapped at Matilda, throwing her a disgusted look, âYou and everyone else who feeds into her delusions should be admitted to an asylum, get a grip! Sheâs fine, she just needs her daily dose of attention, stupid girl.â
Hearing the word asylum cracked something further inside me as I sprung up from my seat, eyes wide and body cold. I looked at where Matilda was standing, but all I could see was the face of the man who found great pleasure in cutting me open just to leave me bleeding and helpless. A scream tried to tear through my throat, but I lost my balance as I tumbled to the floor, fingers digging into the floorboards painfully. Someone shrieked as my stomach heaved, but there was nothing to empty. I could hear the manâs words, his tone unbearable and scratchy as he told me I was worthless and a whore, hungry for male attention ever since my father had died. It made my skin crawl, it made me feel dirty and disgusting as I tried to scrape at my arms.
âMrs Harold!â I could hear the panicked screams, but I couldnât tell where I was anymore. I felt caged and in danger, like someone was leering over my shoulder, waiting for me to pass out so I could be targeted. I whimpered when I felt hands on my back and tried to slap them away, but I was forcefully hauled up to my feet. A wail finally tore through my lips, and I started trashing around when I felt myself being lifted off the floor and carried somewhere.
âNo! No, stop!â I screamed, my voice nothing but a screech as my nails sunk into whoever was carrying me, âDonât take me back there! I havenât done anything, please! Noâno! I didnât mean toâI donât knowâwait, no, please, Iâm sorry, stop!â
My body sunk into something very soft and warm as fingertips pressed into my skin, forcefully prying my eyes wide open. My lungs heaved for air as I tried to get away from whoever was touching me, but I couldnât, they were stronger. They were always stronger, I could never get away. They would never leave me alone, I was always their little experiment. They would cut me open as if I was a rat, they would ask me questions and whip me even if I told the truth, they liked to touch me and make me beg for them to stopâŠI wanted to die. I couldnât do this anymore. Why would they torture me like this? Did my mother not love me? Had my fatherâs ghost abandoned me?
âPlease.â I managed to whisper when my body finally froze up, all fight leaving it. My muscles and joints ached, my heart thumped wildly, and I couldnât hear my thoughts anymore.
âMy baby, please, stop.â A female voice pleaded above me, âNobody is hurting you, tell me whatâs wrong, baby. Iâm here, your mother is here, please.â
How could my mother be here? The asylum didnât let anyone visit us. My eyes burned when I opened them, but I couldnât see well, they were filled with tears. There, looming above me stood the one man I yearned for. His eyes were kind and brown like the most expensive Swiss chocolate, his skin fair with a rosy flush to his cheeks that made him endearing, small spectacles slipping down the perfect slope of his petite nose. The doctor was here.
âYunho, save me.â My voice was barely audible as I croaked out my words, but I noticed my motherâs eyes widening before I drifted off to the darkness that had come to claim my body. Here, nobody could hurt me.
But even in my dreams, the miscreants wouldnât leave me alone. I couldnât tell where I was due to the darkness that enveloped me, but I felt frozen down to the bone. My summer dress did nothing to keep me warm, and the little friction to my arms only caused me to shiver more. I tried to call out to see if anyone was there with me, but my vocal cords wouldnât even croak. My heart was racing and my eyes burned, I could tell I was in danger but I couldnât see because of what. The impending doom I felt, however, said to me that I needed to run and that I needed to run now. So, I didnât wait around as I grabbed the skirt of my dress and aimlessly took off, unable to see anything due to the permeating darkness. My feet hurt from all the little rocks that cut into it, and then something touched my cheek that made me cry out. It was warm, almost scorching hot against my frozen skin. There were whispers around me that I couldnât make out, or understand even if I concentrated on them, but then one of them started making sense. It made more sense than the others, its timber familiar and warm, kind. Then, I could feel fingers tracing my left cheek, a calming hum easing my tense muscles until I could finally take a deep breath. It burned my lungs, it felt as if I was inhaling for the first time.
âOpen your eyes, Miss Harold.â Then, just so that I only could hear it, the familiar voice whispered, âIâm here.â
A gasp tore through my lips as my eyes flew open, jolting me awake as I sat, frantically looking around. It was a lot darker in the room than the last time I was conscious, and the rain was hitting the roof of the house harder than before. Matilda, my mother, Mr Brooks, and Mrs Humphrey all stood at the foot of my bed, different emotions reigning on their faces. As I made eye contact with my mother, she let out a loud sob as she fell into Mr Brooksâ arms, and I felt my lower lip trembling. I hated seeing her in a state like that, worrying over me. Before I could cry too, my head was gently turned to the side until all I could see was the doctor. My mouth opened in shock as the doctor looked at me with sad, but worried, eyes, a wet rag clutched tightly in his other hand.
âYunho.â My throat felt scratchy as I reached out incredulously, wondering whether I was just hallucinating. I noticed my bloody knuckles were bandaged now, ointment placed on the nightstand table next to my bed, âYou are here? Really here?â
âYes, Miss Harold.â He smiled gently, hesitantly letting me touch his jaw, âHow are you feeling?â
âSick,â I said before I could mule over my answer. My stomach was aching and my head was thumping, âI donât know what happened to me, Doctor, I cannot remember.â
âDonât try to remember now, your body and mind are overwhelmed,â Doctor Jeong then gently guided me to lay down in my bed once again, âYou need to relax, Miss Harold. You fainted, and Miss Matilda has told me you havenât eaten all day long, thatâs unhealthy.â
âIâm sorry.â I felt like a child being chastised by their parent for the first time, except that Doctor Jeongâs face didnât look even a little bit angry like my motherâs had back then, âI thought I would throw up if I ate anything, still do.â
The doctor hummed, then slightly turned to look back at the others in the room, âMrs Humphrey, can you bring me that tea I asked you to brew? It will greatly help Miss Harold right now.â
âItâs storming outside, why did you come?â My eyebrows furrowed as I watched the doctorâs serene face, his spectacles were missing and his hair was a wavy mess on top of his head. Looking further down, I realised he wasnât wearing his fancy suit. Instead, the doctor wore a beige tunic with the strings undone, showing a silver of his collarbones and chest. His silver cross dangled between his pecks whenever he moved forward to check for my temperature, letting the cold rag ease the thumping of my head. The doctorâs boots were still on his feet and looked muddy, but nobody was paying attention to that as he sat on the edge of my bed, taking care of me.
âIâm a doctor, my duty is to ensure my patients are healthy and safe.â Then he glanced back at my mother and Mr Brooks, Matilda had left the room with Mrs Humphrey, âYou scared everyone, you scared me, Miss Harold.â
âThank you for coming, but what you did was unsafe, Doctor Jeong.â I gulped, eyebrows furrowing in worry, âHow will you get back home?â
âHe will sleep here tonight, sweetheart.â Mr Brooks answered for the doctor, looking just as worried as I felt, âCanât let him go out in this bad weather, itâs risky. I will ask the maids to make dinner for you, Doctor Jeong. The guestroom is already being prepared, your butler can sleep with the rest of the servants, if that is alright.â
âYes, thank you for your hospitality.â Doctor Jeong bowed his head, smiling at Mr Brooks, âIâm sorry to say this, but Miss Harold should rest now and the more of us are in the room, the bigger the risk of overwhelming her is.â
âOh, of course.â My mother whispered, her eyes glossy again, âRest, my dear.â
I hummed as I watched her and Mr Brooks leave, leaving me alone with Doctor Jeong as the door closed after the two exited the room. I sighed long, looking at the doctor as he removed the rag from my forehead to wring it in more cold water. We said nothing as he placed the rag back onto my forehead, gently removing wet hair strands from my cheeks. He sat close to my body, but his eyes avoided looking into mine. I gulped, trying to find the right words to say just as there was a knock at the door. Doctor Jeong told them to come in and Matilda came inside with a tray and a cup of tea. She offered me a sad smile as she placed the cup of tea on the nightstand.
âGet some rest tonight, Matilda.â
âBut you are not feeling well, young miss.â
âThis is an order, how long until you faint from exhaustion? Please, I wonât leave my bed tonight, you shouldnât either.â The maid looked hesitant, but didnât say anything other than a quiet âthank youâ, and then she was out of my room, closing the door after herself.
âSomeone should check on you tonight, though.â Doctor Jeong said quietly as he helped me sit up, puffing up the pillows behind my back. He grabbed the cup of tea and handed it to me. It was still hot, its scent herbal. My nose twitched as I took a whiff of it before tasting it, cringing away from it, âIt tastes horrible, I know, but itâs very good for your health. Drink it.â
It tasted so bitter I thought I would throw up on the spot, but it was supposed to make me feel better, so I toughened up and drank it as quickly as possible. The doctor watched me as I placed the cup on the nightstand, looking a little amused. I wrung my fingers together and placed them in my lap, looking down at my hands. I felt guilty for having forced the doctor to come all this way in such bad weather, yet he was looking at me with kind eyes and a soft smile.
âHow do you feel now?â He asked, turning his body more to face me.
âSlightly better, my head isnât thumping as violently as before, thank you.â I answered, sinking back into the pillows and cushions, âI thinkâthis could be a grave accusation, but what if Karina is the reason I am like this?â
I couldnât meet the doctorâs eyes as I chewed on my bottom lip, my thoughts whirling around too quickly for me to comprehend them. The doctor froze for a second, then I saw a hand reach out, only to settle on the blanket next to my thigh. I could feel Doctor Jeongâs body heat through the blanket, I wished he had placed his hand over my thigh instead.
âWhy do you think that, Miss Harold?â
âMay I call you Yunho?â
âOf course, Y/N.â
For a second, I paused and looked up with a smile. Yunho was already looking at me with a small smile on his lips, and I huffed a little embarrassed. Seeing him dressed so casually was doing something weird to me, my heart raced from excitement as I felt shy all of a sudden.
âJust like on that day, she was saying bad things to me again, antagonising me. I know she hates me, but I get so angry around her that sometimes I canât even form words.â I gulped, eyebrows slightly furrowing as Yunhoâs fingers twitched next to my thigh, âI wasnât feeling well all day, but then she started speaking and I justâshe brought the asylum up and I was back there again, being terrorised and touchedâI canât talk about it, Iâm sorry, Yunho.â
âLetâs not talk about it, then.â Yunhoâs jaw was clenched as he licked his lips, his forehead creasing as he leaned slightly forward.
âI donât remember anything after that, even her words are muddy.â I felt helpless as my eyes bore into Yunhoâs understanding ones, âMatilda was there the whole time, you can ask her what happened, Iâm sure sheâll tell you everything. She hates Karina as much as I do, she wouldnât lie for her.â
âIâll keep that in mind, Y/N.â Yunho nodded once, then tilted his head to the side. I gulped, feeling nervous for no reason, âDo you think youâll be able to sleep tonight? Are you feeling tired?â
I hummed, playing around with my fingers as I looked down at my lap again. Yunhoâs fingers were tapping the blanket, his breaths audible but even, âI feel spent, and I know I will be able to sleep, but IâmâŠscared to fall asleep alone.â
âI understand, Iâll let Mrs Harold know. Perhaps she could keep you company.â
âYunho?â
âYes, Y/N?â
âCan you stay until I fall asleep?â
My voice was quiet as I glanced up at Yunho through my eyelashes, feeling my cheeks heat up. He looked taken aback, then something I couldnât recognise crossed his features for a split second. He exhaled through his mouth and gulped, loudly. He hummed, deep in his chest, and flattened his palm against the blanket as he shuffled his feet around until his muddy boots hit the ground. I realigned my pillows and crawled a little further away on my bed, to make more space for Yunho as he made himself comfortable, still on the edge of it.
âBut I cannot stay once you are sleeping, Iâm sorry.â
âI know, itâs alright, Yunho.â
Our smiles were small but appreciative. Yunho nodded and chewed on his bottom lip, his eyes raking over my face as I watched his cheeks flush a deep shade of red. It wasnât warm in my room, but I suppose the sheets could make him feel warm too. His hand balled into a fist, grabbing a tight hold of the blanket as I glanced down at it.
âSweet dreams, Y/N.â
âYou too, Yunho.â
Every waking moment he spent thinking of her. Even in his dreams, she appears as a vixen, tempting Yunho to do unforgivable things. He knows he cannot, heâs her doctor and sheâs a patient in desperate need of treatment. Yunho knows this, she isnât his first case. Heâs met people with manic episodes before, potential dissociative amnesia too, but something sets her apart from the rest. Yunho has never once in his life wanted to reach out and cradle one of his patients to his chest and tell them everything would be alright now that he was there. But when he saw her, so frail and generous, soft-spoken and kind, he couldnât help but feel anger whenever she told him of Karina. Yunho had a feeling she wasnât like that unprovoked, and the more he heard of Karina and her schemes against his patient, the more convinced he was that Karina had lied in the first place to get her into that asylum, far away from the safety of her home. Yunho knew what went down inside an asylum, heâs treated many mentally unstable patients before, straight inside those horror houses, and his blood boiled anytime he saw pain and terror strike upon her face whenever the asylum was mentioned. Yunho didnât want to know, truth be told, what had happened to her there because he was sure heâd march up to that asylum and strangle every man who had hurt her. He was a doctor, his ego and fame protected him from making a mistake, but when she had led him inside her bedroom, Yunho was close to throwing it all out the window, quite literally. Her unique scent of hydrangeas had been so potent inside her bedroom, and her sitting daintily on the cushions of her queen-sized bed had his thoughts going haywire. Yunho wanted to touch her, not just tell her that she was safe and sound with him, but show her too. He was wanting and wanting, and he wondered if her story would have a happy ending. Could he save her from the madness they plastered over her head? Or would he dig her a bigger hole once the committee hears his verdict of her mental state? But what Yunho most importantly needed to sort out with himself, was the question thatâs been mulling over in his head ever since she had uttered it. Would he be willing to become her caretaker? Just to keep her safe and away from Karina, of course, Yunho was a professional, above all. He told himself he didnât have second intentions with her, but the more days passed by spent in her company, he couldnât tell for sure anymore.
           Karina was right about one thing, the committee had given Doctor Jeong one more week to sort out everything. He was right, I couldnât beat around the bush anymore, besides, we had gotten close in my story to that faithful day. Doctor Jeong knew this, I knew it too. Because he was afraid of overwhelming me again too soon, he had given me two days of bed rest before heâd return to resume our sessions. The two days had gone by and I was nervously waiting for him in the foyer. After the storm passed, the heat returned even stronger. I didnât wish to stay in the house, it aggravated me anytime I glanced towards the stairs, Karinaâs injured body lying by the foot of it too clear in my mind. The doctorâs patent motorcar was louder today than other days as it rolled to the front of the house, where he was welcomed by Mr Allen, the gardener. He was an elderly man who had grown fond of Doctor Jeong like many others in the household. Myself included, which would explain why my heart was beating uncontrollably once again, sweat brimming my eyebrows.
âWill you be alright?â Leia asked as she shuffled past behind me, fresh bedsheets in her arms, âI donât think Matilda will survive one of your episodes.â
Leia had no mal-intentions, she was just honest down to a pulp. I chuckled, glancing at her as she had stopped in the doorway to the laundry room.
âI might not survive another episode, too.â Leiaâs eyes widened guiltily, but I continued to smile, âIf the doctor writes a good report about me, Iâll finally be out of your hair, Leia. Pray for it.â
âI donât believe in God, young miss.â
âDonât let Doctor Jeong know that.â
Speaking of the devil, his knuckles rasped against the sturdy front door as Leia grinned, disappearing inside the laundry room. I opened the door before the doctor could knock again, welcoming him with a bright smile on my face. He paused, looking taken aback.
âGood morning, Doctor Jeong.â I greeted him, stepping aside to let him walk inside.
âGood morning, Miss Harold, you seem to be doing fine.â He returned a small smile as he shrugged his blazer off, wearing another tunic but fancier this time. It was a deep green, paired with his brown trousers which made him look like he was a huntsman returning from a long hunt to his wife, jittery to have her in his arms. I gulped, feeling embarrassed by my thoughts when I realised, I had imagined myself as the wife Doctor Jeong would return home to. It was inappropriate, but the thought was intrusive and fast before I could stop it.
âThank you for letting me rest, it has helped.â I hummed, raising a hand when the doctor went to step out of his polished shoes, âDo you mind if we sit underneath the willow tree today?â
âNot at all,â The doctor beamed, taking me off guard, âI was just about to suggest it, you know we cannot postpone todayâs topic. Being in a place you love might bring comfort, I hope, at least.â
âYou are thoughtful,â I smiled, then led the way towards the tea room, the grand doors were pulled open, letting inside the fresh warm breeze. Mr Allen was in the doorway, trimming the bushes, but he made way for us when he spotted us. I offered him an appreciative smile as he raised his hand in a silent greeting, a straw of wheat between his teeth as he tipped his hat towards Doctor Jeong. The doctor bowed back to him politely before we made our way down the gravel path, headed towards the willow tree. The warmth today made me feel hot despite the thin summer dress I wore, its sleeves short with a sweetheart neckline. It was a sage green, a pretty contrast against my copper curls. Without needing to ask, Matilda has made a daisy crown to wrap around my bun. I felt pretty and safe covered in my favourite things, sitting underneath the willow tree as frogs ribbited down by the pond, bees buzzing by. The doctor got ready as he opened his satchel bag, taking his notebook and new pencil out. As we sat, I noticed our thighs brushing together, the doctorâs now musky cologne invading my senses. When he placed his notebook on his left thigh, twisting his upper body to face mine, the pages of it brushed against my own thigh too.
âIn our last session, you spoke about visiting your fatherâs grave with your mother. You made him a daisy crown since he loved the flowers just as much as you do, and then, when you returned home, your once lover was waiting for you in the foyer.â Doctor Jeongâs tone was gentle but impersonal, he was a professional after all, âYou stopped after you said you were fighting and it gotâŠviolent? You must elaborate on that, did nobody hear it? Did nobody help?â
I sighed, picking at the grass, âIt didnât get violent in the sense of a physical altercation, but our words were harsh and unforgiving. He called me many names that day, he broke my heart, Doctor Jeong. I know you are curious about what was said, and because it leads up to what happened between Karina and me, I shall tell you.â
The doctor was jotting down my words in his notebook, his hand flying over the page. His bottom lip was between his teeth as he pushed at his spectacles with his other hand. He hummed and briefly glanced at me when I remained quiet for too long. I had to brace myself, so, I took a deep breath and gazed at the doctor instead of at the house, finding my nerves calmer if I gazed at his beautiful face, and his chocolate brown eyes whenever he held eye contact.
Doctor Jeong hummed, still writing as I let my eyes take in his focused expression. His forehead was creased slightly as he chewed on his bottom lip, his neck flushed from the heat. I had also shifted more into his space subconsciously, and I had to refrain from tracing his brows before sinking my fingers into his smooth-looking hair, âYou see, it wasnât Matthew who had changed, but Karinaâs attitude towards me. She became snappy and rude, she didnât make it obvious, but I knew she was looking down on me. She barely talked to me now when my mother and her father werenât around, but she somehow always found time to ask about Matthew. At first, I thought nothing much of it, I figured she mightâve not liked him too much and was looking out for me in an obscure way, but then I found their letters. Mr Allen was bringing in the post and I told him I would sort them out, so when I saw Matthewâs letter, of course I had assumed it was for meâŠexcept, it hadnât been. It was addressed to Karina, and there were all sort of weird questions about me as if whatever Karina had said before had upset him.â
âHas Karina been sending him letters behind your back?â Doctor Jeong looked confused as he looked up at me, his round eyes narrowed and void of kindness. When the doctor was this serious, he looked almost frightening. But I knew he was kind and caring underneath that mask, so I didnât care. I hummed and nodded, absentmindedly picking at the scabs that had formed over my bruised knuckles.
âYes, and she was lying to him, saying very ugly things about me. Still to this day, I donât understand why she did all of that. Leia says sheâs blinded by jealousy and wants to be better than me, but unless Karina says it, I donât want to believe it. Anyways, I didnât confront Karina right away, I hurried over to Matthewâs house to talk to him.â I huffed sadly, looking at the doctor again, âHe was just about to mount his horse and leave for the city, but when he saw me, he knew we had to talk. It turns out, Karina has been lying about me for months now, saying I was seeing other men behind his back and somehow even made up some evidence of it. She had sent him handkerchiefs that had been my fatherâs, claiming they were of those I wasâsleeping with. She even told him I was badmouthing him and that I was only marrying him out of pity, and because my father had made me promise I would marry someone richer than my family. Butâit was all lies! I loved Matthew, I always have! I wanted to marry him and have a nice household, but Karina took it all away from me. What he said to meâŠit had hurt a lot, and it still does, so I wonât repeat his words, but he broke off our engagement and told me to never appear in front of his eyes. I had loved him, YunhoâŠâ
My throat clenched as I took a shuddering breath, eyes filled with tears. Yunho had stopped writing and looked at me with pain in his eyes, bottom lip between his teeth, âIâm sorry, you deserved better.â
I hummed with a sad chuckle and quickly wiped my eyes before the tears could fall. This was it, this is what Yunho had been desperately wanting to hear for a month now. I lowered my legs and looked at Yunho with a neutral expression, making his eyes widen minutely, âI know, but itâs okay. If God is watching like everyone claims him to be, Karina will be punished, and so will Matthew. I was a mess after that conversation with Matthew, and I cried all the way back home. My chest was clenching and my heart was thumping wildly, I thought that was what heartbreak felt like, and I still believe so. When I stumbled through our front door, Karina was justâŠthere. Waiting for me in the foyer with an amused smirk. She didnât even feign innocence as she asked what happened, she could clearly see Matthewâs crumbled letter in my hand. I wonât deny it, I said some very ugly things to her. I didnât even let her speak as I exploded on her, Iâm still surprised the house staff didnât try to stop me. I have said this in my report too, but I struck first, I slapped her and pushed her back when she started laughing. She was only doing it to make me even angrier, and it was working.â
My muscles tensed as I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, keeping it in my lungs as Yunhoâs jaw was clenched, his eyes focused on my face as I continued talking, âI needed space, so I backed away before I could do anything really hurtful. My head was thumping and my body was shaking, I felt like I was suffocating. Karina just continued laughing as I hurried to the stairs, wanting to lock myself in my room and cry myself to sleep. She was following after me, now cackling instead of laughing, and then she said somethingâsomething that Iâll never forget, âAll that courting and playing around each other just to never even fuck him? Donât worry, youâre not missing out on anything, sister, heâs not even good in bed.â I saw red when I heard her say that, my thoughts were a mess and I didnât even doubt the accuracy of her words. I just reacted, I know I slapped her again as I stopped on the stairs, but I couldnât say anything as I was close to sobbing, so I just ran up the rest of the stairs, but she was still following after me. She was saying something, and I was screaming at her to shut up, but she wouldnât. And IâI just really wanted her to shut up, to not look at me with those eyes and I justâI donât know, Doctor, I donât know. My whole body was shaking and I couldnât see clearly, my head was aching and I couldnât even hear anymore, I justâI just remember suddenly coming to myself again when there was a shrill screech. And then I remember Matilda looking at me with terror in her eyes as she called for Jesper and Mr Allen to come help, to call for a doctor.â
âIn your report, you saidââ
âI know what I said, Yunho, I said I turned around and gave her a backhanded slap, yanked on her hair and bashed her head against the wall before pushing her down the stairs.â Yunhoâs eyes were shaking as our faces were close, âBut I donât remember doing any of those, the lawyer told me to say that to protect myself from a serious accusation. Matilda lied for me, and so did Mr Allen. In the end, Mr Brooks paid the judge and I was simply classified as insane, the case was swept under the rug and Iâve been forced to live like this ever since.â
âI knew there was something wrong with that report,â Yunho muttered under his breath, âBut why did you lie?â
âI was young and scared,â I sighed, my eyes searching Yunhoâs face for any judgment, but it wasnât there, âI thought they would lock me up if I didnât make up a story. But in the end, I was locked up in my own house for six years, a prison still, just different. I fainted in the court too, I donât remember much from there either.â
Yunho looked troubled as his eyebrows were deeply furrowed, his bottom lip thoroughly chewed on, and his spectacles pushed up on his nose. With his free hand, he reached forward, but stopped just before his fingertips could touch my hand and instead balled it up into a fist and lowered it back into his lap. His jaw clenched as he gulped, shaking his head as he looked down at his notebook.
âI have a scar on my abdomen,â I whispered, hand pressing against my covered stomach, âfrom having fallen over and cutting myself, do you believe me, Doctor?â
When Yunhoâs jaw just clenched and he didnât look at me, I gulped nervously and reached towards my sleeves to pull them off, to let the dress pool at my waist, but one fleeting glance at me had Yunho reaching forward with a panic-ridden face, his eyes widening, âStop, what are you doing? I believe you, Y/N, I do.â
His hands were big and warm, wrapped completely around mine as the sleeve of my dress swiftly slipped off my left shoulder. His thumb rubbed my bruised knuckles, and despite the sting, I welcomed the affectionate gesture as it covered my arms in goosebumps. I released a long breath, my eyes boring into Yunhoâs. His eyes were easy to read, he looked conflicted and confused. I had no idea if he believed me, but I wanted him to. Hurting Karina was wrong, but she deserved it, and I was glad I managed to make her hurt at least once compared to how many times she had hurt me. But I remained silent as Yunho leaned even closer, our faces a breath away from each other. He gulped, loudly, then frowned. As I opened my mouth, he looked alarmed and scrambled backwards, letting my hands drop into my lap as he gasped, grabbing for his things frantically. I didnât understand what was happening, but when I tried to help, he just pushed my hand away. My heart hammered in my chest nervously as sweat rolled down my temples, and I stood so quickly I got whiplash. Doctor Jeong was just about to take off towards the house when a desperate question left my lips.
âWill you save me, Doctor Jeong?â My voice was trembling just as much as Yunhoâs hands, âWill you become my caretaker and take me away with you, will you?â
My questions went unanswered as Yunho ran off, not even bothering to go inside the house as he followed the cobbled path to the front of the house. The engine of his motorcar was loud as I slumped back against the tree with a dizzy head.
            The committee was more eager than I had thought at first to wrap this whole thing up. Just two days after my last encounter with the doctor, a letter came at an early morning hour that the verdict would be given today. I was nervous, but I braced myself for the worst possible ending, which would be me being sent back to the asylum. I doubted I would survive that once again, so I could only hope the doctor had taken pity on me and would be generous in his report. My mother had been buzzing around the house all morning, making sure everything was perfect for the arrival of the committee. Cookies had been baked, fresh tea was brewed, the ground floor aired out with every corner dusted off, and the tea room was decorated with vases of freshly picked flowers. The grand doors were opened, creating a serene surrounding as I sat on the sofa by myself. Nobody was inside the room except for me, something which was rare. I gaze forward, at the visage, trying to commit it to memory. I wondered if I would get to see it tomorrow too.
Matilda had dressed me in a dainty white dress to feign innocence, with my hair pulled in a low bun, and daisies hanging out of it. It felt as if the ghost of my father was here to cheer me on, to offer me some braveness before everything would unfold. And it would, way too soon. There were loud knocks against the front door before it was opened, and six people piled inside our foyer. My mother and Karina quickly walked inside the room with my mother sitting next to me, meanwhile, Karina took her spot in her favourite armchair. The image was eerily similar to the first day the doctor had arrived, it made my heart race. The rest of my future was in the hands of another man, and I couldnât do anything about it. I knew what I had done to Karina was wrong, but a small part of me knew that she had deserved it. My muscles tensed when Mr Brooksâ voice carried inside the tea room as he led the committee and Doctor Jeong inside. My jaw clenched and my hands balled into fists as they each walked in, eyes on me as I remained unmoving.
The committee consisted of the town mayor, the judge who had handled my case, the townâs richest married couple, and Father Louis, the head of our church. My stomach churned as the familiar faces sat down surrounding me, leaving space for Doctor Jeong at the front. Mr Brook sat next to my mother and held her hand, making my mother sigh loudly. I didnât want to look at anyone, I was afraid to see what they hid in their eyes. The doctor seemed tense as he rolled his shoulders a few times, then cleared his throat and accepted the tea from Mrs Humphrey, who had insisted on staying in the room, in the back where she didnât bother anyone. I couldnât focus on anyone else but the doctor as he finally seemed like he was ready to speak up. He faced the room and his eyes took in everyone, staying on me for a second too long. I could see Karina sneer from my peripheral vision, but I didnât care. I was just as curious to hear what Doctor Jeong had to say as the committee.
âDear committee, Mr and Miss Brooks, Mrs and Miss Harold, and of course, Mrs Humphrey,â Doctor Jeong bowed his head lightly, âThank you for coming, and Iâd like to thank the committee for entrusting me with this intricate and peculiar case. I must say before I begin, that I have encountered cases like Miss Haroldâs before, but neither one has been as complex as hers. I trust my personal judgement and everything I have learned up until this point, that my verdict is the right choice, and that if the committee sees it fit as well, it shall proceed with Miss Haroldâs sentence accordingly.â
Doctor Jeongâs fingers were wrung together in front of him, his dark blue suit was perfect. He looked dashingly handsome with his wavy hair falling all over his forehead and into his eyes, his spectacles perched into the pocket of his vest. His warm eyes found mine for a second before he looked around the room again, nodding to himself. He took a deep breath and continued his speech, starting to pace around the front of the room. Him standing in front of the garden and the path that led to the willow tree was dreamy, âWe all know that Miss Harold had lost her father when she was young, which would be hard news to swallow for a person at any age. I assume that his early death left Miss Harold traumatised in a way that could go unnoticed unless looked upon by a professional, which didnât happen. Her stress and repressed pain had accumulated, waiting for a small spark to ignite the explosion, which did happen as we all know it. I spent a month daily by Miss Haroldâs side, listening to stories of her childhood, and her adulthood, all leading up to the moment weâve all been curious about. During my time studying her, Iâve come to observe that she is a very kind soul, attentive, and a generous person. She is soft-spoken and very sensitive to everything that happens around her, it is rather hard for me to imagine she could even as much as hurt a fly.â
I gulped, feeling my heart hammer in my chest as Yunho spoke with much conviction, his eyebrows furrowed as he stopped moving around, his eyes settling on Father Louis, âHer mental state, however, fluctuates a lot based on her surroundings, she easily reacts to the change of weather and the change of mood of a person. People like Miss Harold arenât only in touch with their peers, but with nature as well, as insane as that might sound, itâs a rather special attribute to have. Sheâs had bad days during our sessions, and I had the chance to further observe the cause of this. As a psychiatrist, I do not enjoy lightly throwing out diagnoses, but I have to ensure the health of my patients. Miss Harold suffers from manic episodes that get triggered by certain words, environmental changes, and people. In Miss Haroldâs stories, I have found one person who seemed to be always around her when these episodes happened, making me confident in my theory that she is Miss Haroldâs trigger.â
The people in the room gasped as they looked around. My heart was hammering, I could feel my pulse in my throat, but I couldnât help but let out an amused huff. Karinaâs eyes were wide and her knuckles white as she gripped the armrest of the armchair, fear painting her face. It felt satisfying looking at her, and if I hadnât known the doctor better, I wouldâve missed the satisfied smirk on his lips there for a millisecond, âIf this wasnât about the health of Miss Harold, I wouldnât be throwing out names so unabashedly, but this is to ensure her safety and health. Miss Brooks seems to like to pick on Miss Harold whenever she gets the chance, and she likes provoking her sister. Before anyone could deny my claim, I was witness to such a thing happening, Miss Brooks herself has said some very rude things about Miss Harold that no lady should utter, less about their sister, even if not related by blood. That being said, I cannot throw all the blame on Miss Brooks since Miss Harold is traumatised and doesnât know how to handle it, or how to control her outbursts.â
Then, as if there was nobody else in the room with us, Doctor Jeongâs eyes found mine, his expression softening. Karina had started crying next to me, but I couldnât care less as my mother was glaring at her, the committee didnât look very pleased either.
I couldnât breathe as my eyes bore into Yunhoâs, filling with tears. I had expected him to go against me for having lied in my report, or to try and go around the topic without bringing it up much, but no, he was actively lying for me and keeping up the image that I had a lapse of judgement all this time. My motherâs hand found mine as she squeezed it reassuringly, tears streaming down her cheeks. I glanced at her fleetingly, my body buzzing with life as my hands trembled. I wanted to see the faces of the committee members, but Yunho was all I could look at. There was a heavy sigh in the room, it couldâve come from Mr Brooks or someone else, I couldnât tell.
âIâm very close to giving my verdict, so allow me to say this before that,â Yunho smiled softly, looking towards the committee with a gentle look on his face, but with a steely look in his eyes, âMiss Haroldâs is a human like all of us in this room, and she is allowed to make mistakes. Sheâs been punished for her mistakes, probably unfairly, and we mustnât make the same mistake again. I have concluded, that Miss Harold needs an environmental change for her to fully heal. This house no longer feels homey to her, she feels caged in and watched all the time, plus now you all know that Miss Brooks wonât leave her alone either. As a verdict, I have concluded that if the committee and her mother agree, Miss Harold could be assigned a new caretaker. AndâŠbefore you make suggestions as to who could fit this role best, I would like you all to consider me as her new caretaker for the next year. I am a doctor, I know what to do and how to act in case she is having another episode. I will be leaving the country in a month to return to France, where my foster father has requested my presence. The environmental change would benefit Miss Harold greatly, that is, if you trust me, of course.â
I felt close to fainting by the time Yunho had stopped talking. Him, Doctor Jeong Yunho, my new caretaker? Could that be possible? Would the committee even let it happen? I had no idea, but I wanted to fall in his arms and sob as I thanked him for his effort, for listening to me, for trying to save me from this place. The committee erupted in whispered mutters amongst themselves, but Father Louis seemed more than pleased with Yunho. His brows were sweaty as he dabbed at them with the back of his wrist, his arms covered with the sleeves despite the heat. My mother wasnât moving next to me, and Mr Brooks had turned his body away from Karina, who was trying to catch her fatherâs gaze insistently. Then, there was a tsk as the judge rose to his feet, all eyes falling on him.
âThank you. Doctor Jeong, for your in-depth analysis and for the tabs and reports youâve been keeping on Miss Harold this month, we appreciate it.â He rubbed at his chin, his hair already silver from age, âWe have selected you, Doctor, to treat this delicate case because we have heard of your expertise. You have never once failed to treat your patients accordingly, and I find no reason to doubt your verdict, however, wouldnât it be risky to take Miss Harold away from here? Couldnât that trigger her madness even more? And if Mrs Harold wonât agree, she cannot go. Either way, we cannot let her go unless you promise to report back to us monthly, Doctor Jeong, and once the one year is up, you must return her home. She shall be reevaluated, then her fate will be decided for the future.â
When Yunho and my eyes met again, I knew my fate had been sealed. France, a new beginning by his side, sounded like a far-fetched dream that was now within my reach.
Yunho was a professional, except when it came to her. The lines had blurred long ago, he couldnât tell who was the doctor and who was the patient when it came to her. All Yunho knew was that he could never let her go, not when she clung to him as if her life depended on him. Her lips tasted like honey and her moans were the prettiest music he had ever had the chance to hear, her skin soft and warm and her body so pliant underneath his. All it took was one touch from her for his whole being to crumble, he felt drunk on her, insatiable. Yunho knew he couldnât let her return home, not now that heâd found Mingi too, not when the three of them were living in a tucked away village in a homey cottage, away from prying eyes. Yunho finally had what heâd been yearning for his whole life. His family was back, right within his reach, and even when he missed his home, heâd gaze upon Mingi and her, and realise that his home was here with them. And she was sweet like nectar, Yunhoâs guilty pleasure that he just couldnât get rid ofâdidnât want to get rid of. He was a bad man for preying upon the innocent and unassuming ones, but may God forgive him for his sins, he was just a man after all. He knew he was bound to become insane like his patients one day, but Yunho was already a madman for her, and he didnât care. Profession be damned, only the four walls of their cottage would truly know the truth, much like her amnesiac brain that had no desire to return to a land and home thatâs treated her so horribly once. Here, Yunho was a complete man and he had wowed to protect what was hisâŠno matter what it took. Mingi and her were staying there with him, forever.
in some kind of cruel trick, the universe has fated you to the person who hates you most.
word count: 8.7k
tags: omegaverse!au, soulmate!au, alpha!yunho, omega!reader, inaccurate depiction of omegaverse as iâm not familiar with the genre. warnings under the cut
warnings: dom!yunho, sub!reader, mentions of coercion, grooming and segregation, discrimination (none of those by yunho), unequal power dynamics, mentioned punishment. MASSIVE dick!yunho, slight corruption, BITING, pet names, titles (alpha/omega. sorry). rude yunho at first. not proof read
âââââ
You are fucking irritating.
Yunho doesnât know much. As an alpha since birth he was raised separately from the omegas â fragile little bunnies who could so easily have been ripped apart if heâd been having a bad day â and given very limited access to the outside world. âThe people out there,â his father had told him, âcould do as much damage to you as you could to them.â As such, heâd been entirely sheltered and shielded, separate from everything he could threaten or be threatened by. So no, Yunho doesnât know much. Not about omegas, anyway. But what he does know is that you are fucking irritating.
Heâs never even met you, never been given the chance, yet he knows this. He sees you from across the grounds, through the fence neither of you have ever crossed; sees your annoying face, scrunched up in a pout or a huff whenever something doesnât go your way. He hears your whines and pleads and that irritating giggle when a weaker wolf than he gives into your antics and gives you what you want. Even from across the grounds he hears it all and he wants nothing more than to shut you up. He stays up at night picturing it â finally putting you in your place, showing you how a stupid little omega is supposed to behave. Showing you that despite the alphas youâve encountered who bend and cater to your every whim just because youâre cute, there are some out there with a stronger will than that. There are some whoâd be all too happy to set you straight, to keep you in line and teach you to behave the way your teachers clearly failed to. God, he wants to be the one to do it.
He watches you today with a scowl. Youâre giggling and jeering with your friends, skipping happily around the garden with some kind of kite. How juvenile, he thinks. His lip curls at the sight. Youâre only a few years younger than him; you must be in your early twenties by now â you have no reason to be so childish, so immature and⊠cute. He hates that word. Hates using it on you. Fuck, he could justâ
âChrist, Yunho.â
He looks up, thoughts interrupted by his best friend, sitting next to him with a half-amused, half-concerned expression. âWhat, Mingi?â He huffs.
âAre you still watching that little omega?â
He shrugs, muttering to himself and Mingi laughs. âYou are. Jesus, dude, itâs been years. Why are you so obsessed with her?â
âIâm not obsessed,â Yunho snaps far too quickly. Mingi raises an eyebrow. âIâm not obsessed,â he repeats, more slowly. âSheâs just annoying. She needs to grow up. Sheâs so childish.â
âTheyâre all childish, Yunho, theyâre omegas. Thatâs what theyâre like. And yet she bothers out of all of them. That seems like obsession to me.â
âWell itâs not,â Yunho says, irritated. His gaze still follows you, now sat with your friends in a circle and listening to one of the others tell some kind of story. You watch her intently, eyebrows scrunched in concentration. You look interested, thoughtful. He scoffs, shaking his head. He hates how every single emotion shows on your face, hates how he knows exactly whatâs going on in your stupid little head just by watching the way your nose scrunches and your lips twitch. He hates it. At least youâre listening well, he thinks.
âYouâre kidding,â Mingi says. âYouâre literally watching her right now. Fuck man, youâre practically studying her and youâre not obsessed?â
âWhoâs obsessed?â
They both turn to see their friend and the heir to the pack, Hongjoong, approaching with drinks in his hands. He sits down next to Mingi, handing each of them a drink which they accept. He stares at Yunho for a second, noticing the irritated expression on his face, and locks eyes with Mingi, looking confused.
âYunho,â Mingi explains, âis staring at that little omega again. He fucking hates her, man. Itâs not healthyâ
Hongjoong snorts. âItâs not hate.â
The other two whip their heads to face him, Mingi looking confused and Yunho irate. âWhat?â They both ask.
Hongjoong chuckles, taking a sip before he speaks. âItâs not hate,â he repeats. âItâs been what, years, right?â
âHis whole life more like,â Mingi mutters. Yunho elbows him and he yelps. Hongjoong shakes his head.
âYeah, years heâs been obsessing over how much he hates her. Do you even know her name?â
Yunho shrugs, irritated and Hongjoong laughs. âYeah. You will one day, though. Because you donât hate her.â
âOf course I hate her, Hongjoong!â Yunho protests, trying to keep it down so the nearby alphas donât intercept the conversation. âSheâs fucking annoying, dude. Look at her. Can you really say you donât hate her?â
Hongjoong shares a look, knowing and exasperated, with Mingi and places a hand on Yunhoâs shoulder, squeezing it gently before walking off. Yunho turns back to Mingi, confused expression on his face and Mingi sighs before speaking.
âWe canât even see her from this far, Yunho.â
âââââ
Youâve been noticing it for a while. Your friend was the first one to point it out; a kind, temperate beta named Alexa. âOver there,â sheâd said. âBy the fence. Thereâs an alpha thatâs been staring at you for a while.â
Youâd followed her gaze to see two figures on the other side of the fence, one of them staring intently over at you. The other man, almost as tall as him, seemed to be attempting some kind of conversation, but to no avail; his friendâs entire attention was set on you, on staring you down with a scowl. He looked displeased, irritated as he glared at you and it was intimidating. You felt yourself shrink slightly under his gaze, feeling small and vulnerable and almost scolded.
Put out, youâd turned back to Alexa worriedly. âWhy is he doing that?â
âI donât know,â sheâd sighed. âBut donât worry. Just stay away from the fence, yeah?â
âYeah,â you breathed. âAs always.â
So you did. You stayed away from the fence â though it wasnât a big ask as that was what the rules bid you do anyway â and pretended not to see his eyes on you, to hear the whispers from the other omegas about that alpha that keeps staring at the girl over there. It wasnât unusual to have an alpha stare over, of course; after all, the people on each side of the fence would of course one day be matched with each other. But it was weird for an alpha to be so fixated and so⊠angry at one omega in particular, especially one they havenât made a single move to approach. And it worried you. You wondered if you were doing something wrong, if there was something wrong with you that made you so unappealing to this alpha and, God forbid, may turn the other alphas off you too, when it came to the day when youâd be matched with one. And you didnât even know what it was!
But there was nothing you could do, of course, without actually approaching the fence which would risk your life, so you ignored it, trying to enjoy your days the way you normally did. But it lingered in the back of your mind, always hovering there, bothering and worrying you. Why did he hate you so much? And why you?
You find out a few weeks later. Itâs the day of the mating ceremony â to the town, the most important day of the year, and to you the most important day of your life. Because this year, among the hundreds of alphas and omegas due to be matched is you.
The procedure is simple, and youâve rehearsed it enough at school to know it like the back of your hand; in your nicest, whitest dress, youâll walk gracefully down to the stage, a low wooden platform surrounded by towering rows of seats. The head of the pack, some man youâve never met and yet have spent your entire life swearing loyalty to, will select for you a mate â one of the many alphas vying for an omega, under whose control youâll spend the rest of your life. Itâs a crucial, irreversible moment; the chiefâs decision is final, because he has the experience and the instincts to know who ought to be paired with who, which pairings will further the packâs prosperity. Itâs an ancient, foolproof system, so you tell yourself. No matter how many times you say it it doesnât quite resonate.
The walk to the town hall is nerve wracking; you cling to the hand of the omega beside you, an equally nervous boy named Zhou. Knowing youâre being watched on your journey by the hundreds, even thousands of people who line the streets each year to witness it, you keep your eyes fixed on the ground, trying to focus on each slow step, each tap of your white ballet shoes against the cobbled streets. Itâs eerily silent; a funeral more than a celebration.
When the town hall comes into view you feel yourself shudder; like everything on this side of the fence, itâs large and imposing and much grander than youâre used to. You shrink into yourself slightly but donât allow yourself to stop; you have to make a good impression.
Youâre guided to your seat, just above the stage and sink into it with a sigh of relief. Youâre in the clear until your name is called â and that could take hours. You close your eyes for a moment, breathing in the fresh air wafting through the open window near to your block of seats. Itâs rich and earthy and strangely⊠homely. Youâve never smelled something quite like this before.
On the other side of the stage, Yunho and his friends sit slouched in the alphas section of the seats. Theyâre a little bored, to no oneâs surprise â like many alphas theyâve been to several of these ceremonies; itâs common for an alpha to take several years to finally be matched, thereâs no shame in it. Often itâs simply a matter of waiting for the right omega to come of age. And itâs not up to them, anyway â the chief is the one who knows who belongs with who.
He cranes his neck, turning to look over at Hongjoong, who stares straight ahead with a severe expression. No wonder he looks so serious, Yunho thinks; one day this ancient ceremony, and the sacred matching of everyone in this town, will be down to him. It must weigh on him. He wonders if those instincts â instincts that will make or break the future of the pack â have begun to show yet. He shrugs, slouching back. Not his problem. Craning his neck to try to get a glimpse of the blurry selection of omegas this year, he figures he has his own things to worry about.
The ceremony starts slowly and typically; an endless, droning speech by the pack leader, before the first, tense matches get underway. They seem decent this year, he has to admit; a few of the alphas he knows decently well are matched, each with their own beautiful, well-trained omega, who greets their new master with practised grace. He feels a twinge of jealousy. Heâs by no means too old to be matched, and certainly isnât the oldest alpha in the section, but heâs just a man. Just an alpha. He may not need, but he wants an omega of his own, a pretty, obedient little thing to spoil and care for and mould into the perfect life partner for him. He wants⊠well, heâs not sure what exactly. He canât see past the annoying, ever-present image of you in his mind. Sneering at him, tormenting him.
When they read your name, he knows itâs you. Itâs a name heâs never heard and yet when the syllables leave the announcerâs mouth, he knows whoâs about to stand up before you do. He perks up, surprised to see you making your way down the stairs; he hadnât known you were being matched this year. He should have, he supposes; from your looks and the people you hang around with he figured youâd be about 21 by now, but to actually see you, knowing youâre about to be given away, is an odd, conflicting feeling.
He watches as you bid your friends goodbye before walking slowly towards the centre of the hall. You take a brief look around at the audience, at the hundreds, even thousands of pairs of eyes on you, before your gaze reverts to the ground. Youâre shy and more demure than heâs ever seen you. If only you were like this all the time, he thinks, heâd feel a little less sorry for the poor alpha who youâre about to be given to. He looks around at the other alphas, wondering who youâll get. They all watch you intently, apparently quite enamoured by you and he scoffs. They have no idea what youâre like. They donât know what it would take to tame you; he doubts any of them, even Hongjoong, would be up to the task. He wonders who is. He slumps back in his seat, waiting to find out.
âOmega,â the announcer says. âYou are already soul-tied to an alpha in this pack.â
He sits up, more interested now, as do the rest of the audience. A soul-bond is quite rare, and heâs never seen one in person; far beyond even the pack leaderâs control, itâs an ancient, mythical bonding ritual that until now, he wasnât even entirely convinced was real. The others are surprised too; he hears whispers of who it will be, who it is thatâs been destined for you from the beginning, and listens eagerly as the announcer opens a sheet of paper, bringing the microphone to her lips and reading out two short words.
âJeong Yunho.â
He baulks. His jaw drops and he stands up indignantly, swearing heâd heard it wrong. Jeong Yunho. Thatâs his name. Theres no fucking way. He turns outraged to the men beside him who look entirely unsurprised. He growls, remembering what theyâd told him weeks ago. Curse them. Curse them for being right.
The announcer repeats his name, waiting for him to go down to greet you and Mingi nudges him forward. âWell, Yunho,â he grins. âLooks like youâll get to put her in her place after all.â
ââââ
After the ceremony youâre led to another room, with a small table and couch. In it is a beta you faintly recognise, a kind and unassuming looking woman but for the fact that sheâs holding a pair of handcuffs.
âWill you come willingly, omega?â She asks.
âYes,â you say, âI will.â
Not that you have a choice â you know what happens to omegas who resist their matches; and though you knew straight away this Yunho was the man whoâs been glaring at and bothering you so much, having seen him a little closer now, you figure youâre lucky to have at least gotten an attractive alpha. And you couldnât stand the humiliation of being dragged across the grounds in handcuffs anyway.
âGood,â the woman smiles. She pockets the handcuffs, in case you change your mind, you assume, and takes your hand. âIâll take you to your alpha, then.â
The walk to your alphaâs house is short; he lives right next to the town hall. He must be important, you think, and the size of his house certainly suggests that. You swallow thickly as you stare up at it and the woman squeezes your hand. âNothing to worry about, omega,â she smiles. âYunhoâs a lovely young man. Just be good and obey him and youâll have a wonderful life with him, okay?â
You nod shyly and she pinches your cheek. The skirt of the dress youâd been given for the ceremony catches on your shoes as you make your way up the stairs of his house and she reaches down to untangle it, keeping you steady and graceful as you wait by the door.
A few seconds after the doorbell rings, the large oak door creaks open, revealing the stern-looking man from earlier. As close as youâve ever been, you grasp for the first time how tall and how handsome he really is. You blush, looking down. He bids the women goodbye, as do you, before beckoning you inside. The door slams shut behind you, making you jump a little. He studies your reaction, watching your carefully before he comes to stand in front of you.
âOmega.â
You shuffle in place, gazing intently at the ground â anywhere but at him. He shakes his head. âLook at me and greet me properly, omega,â he says, a little more sternly.
Shyly you lift your head, staring up at him with hooded eyes. Theyâre almost⊠doe-ish, he thinks. More like prey than another wolf. âAlpha,â you whisper.
He nods. âIntroduce yourself.â
Shyly you start to whisper your name, but he stops you. âThe surname is wrong,â he says. âItâll be Jeong now. Omegas take the alphaâs name.â
You sigh nervously, nodding. You feel stupid to have forgotten that and he clearly already thinks that you are stupid; you want to kick yourself for proving him right so quickly. âYes, alpha,â you whisper.
âIntroduce yourself,â he repeats. âAnd this time get it right.â
You try it again, using his surname this name and he nods, satisfied but unsmiling. âGood,â he says. âNow, omega. I doubt you were expecting to be given in a soul-tie like that, and neither was I. But the fact remains that you are my omega now, and you will act like it. That means following the rules and standards I give. Got it?â
Unsure but hoping to please him, you agree. He stares at you as though heâs scrutinising you â which he probably is. âI understand, alpha.â
âI donât expect you to meet my standards right away,â he continues. He speaks coolly, casually but you can tell this is serious. âYouâre just an omega, after all. And Iâve been watching you for a while and I can see that even for an omega, youâre quite a brat.â
You donât know if youâre supposed to reply â to protest or dispute him or agree with his insults, so you just stare at him, letting him continue. That seems to please him at least.
âI know you have the betas under your thumb,â he says with almost a sneer. âEven some of the alphas, too. But you wonât have me. Iâve been waiting a long time to put you in your place and by some miracle the Gods have dropped you right into my lap to do so.â
You gulp. You wonder what heâs going to do to you â you know as his God-given omega he has the right to do anything he likes, so long as you arenât killed or âseverely and permanently injuredâ. In this pack, at least, there are slightly higher standards for the conduct of alphas towards their omegas, but theyâre still low. And now that youâve been given to him, he has the right to control, care for and discipline you however he chooses.
âWhat are you going to do?â You whisper.
âWell, I assume youâre aware of what I can do,â he says. You nod. âBut unlike some of the alphas here, I have a personal policy that I intend to stick to.â
âWhatâs that?â
âOther than your brandââ you gulp at the mention of the large, obvious mating mark heâs probably going to be giving you shortly ââI will never permanently mark you in any way. Not from sex, not from punishment, nothing. Understand?â
You nod, feeling relieved. You know the law and you know that, if he wanted to, heâd be perfectly entitled to cover your entire body in deep, lasting marks â so long as they donât cause actual damage. But he doesnât want to do that, for some reason. Maybe heâs not scary after all; although the mention of punishment, though expected, sends a small shiver down your spine.
âThank you,â you whisper.
He hums. âAs for your questionâŠâ
You tilt your head, looking confused. âAbout what?â
He lifts an eyebrow â surprised, apparently. âAbout what Iâm going to do to you.â
âOh.â You forgot youâd asked that. Stupid omega, you can almost hear him thinking.
âYes, about that. The simple answer is, Iâm going to treat you like an omega should be treated.â
âMeaning what?â
âMeaning Iâll take care of you,â he says. âIn all ways. By looking after you, guiding you, comforting you, and of course, disciplining you when I see fit.â
His words dizzy you slightly, affecting you in more ways than one. You find yourself picturing all the ways heâll fulfil that promise; everything he might do to you. Everything he could do. You swallow, voice thick. âDiscipline me how?â
He cocks an eyebrow, unimpressed but amused. âIt shouldnât be a mystery,â he says. âThere arenât as many ways to get through to omega like you as there are of getting through to, say, a beta. Youâre wired to require a moreâŠâ He tuts, shaking his head, ââŠhands on approach.â
Oh. Visions of him towering over you, wielding a stick or a whip or any one of the multitudes of weapons youâve heard are frequently used on omegas, fill your head. Your heart races again, fearful and you instinctively back off a bit. He seems to know exactly what youâre thinking because he sighs, shaking his head. âIâm not going to beat you, omega,â he says.
You blink, surprised and not quite believing. âYouâre not?â
âNo,â he says. âWhy did you think I was? Is that the only way to get through to you?â
âNo,â you whisper. âI just heardâŠâ
âWell you heard wrong,â he says, tone final. You nod demurely, no more will to argue. âIâm not some feral wolf chasing lost omegas through the forest. I have more control than that.â
âIâm sorry,â you say. He nods, jaw tense.
âListen to me,â he continues, voice firm. âIâm never going to beat you with a stick, or whip you, or any of that.â Your eyes widen slightly; thatâs exactly what you were thinking. Can he actually read your mind? You stay silent, letting him continue. âIâll never strike you in anger, either. Now that youâre mine, you are â whether I like it or not â precious to me. I intend to take good care to keep you safe and unsullied.â
âBut you will⊠strike me,â you say softly. You canât say youâre surprised â or even disappointed. You ignore the way your heart speeds up slightly at the thought of him hitting you â his wide palm clapping against your skin again and again.
âIf I have to,â he says. âBut weâll talk about that later.â For the first time he offers what you could almost fool yourself into thinking is a reassuring smile. âFor now we have the most important part.â
Your heart starts to race at his words. You know exactly what heâs referring to â youâve been told of this moment since childhood, both through textbooks at school and scary stories told around the campfire just on the edge of the woods that is completely off limits for omegas. The mating, they call it, is the most important moment of an omegaâs life; however long youâve been with an alpha, youâre not truly their omega until theyâve left that deep, permanent mark on you â the branding. And as scared as you still are of Yunho you know there are far worse alphas to be paired with, so as terrifying at the words mating and branding sound to you, youâre eager to get it over with â to be bonded to Yunho for life, officially claimed. You can deal with Yunho, you think, not least because heâs apparently been literally created by the Gods to be yours. You do not want to deal with the other alphas you see prowling about. This will protect you from that if nothing else.
âOkay,â you say. âIâm ready.â
He looks almost surprised at your obedience and smiles, a little wider this time. âGood,â he says. âIâm glad. Iâll take good care of you.â
You look up, still surprised that a man whoâd for so long looked at you with suchâŠvitriol, whoâd looked so horrified at being matched with you, would have a single ounce of desire to be nice to you. Certainly not during the first time he takes you. âReally?â You ask.
âYes,â he says. âA soul bond is rare and if something happens to you, I wonât get another. Plusââ he pauses, sighing like he canât believe what heâs about to say ââif the Gods put you with me themselves, they must have seen your potential to be the kind of omega I like. So deep down, there probably is some part of you that wants to obey me. I just have to drag it out of you, I think.â
You bite your lip, shivering slightly. For some reason you kind of like that idea; the image of being forced to obey. Physically compelled to listen and revere him. âYes, alpha.â
âWell,â he says. For once he looks a little unsure. âI guess thereâs no point delaying it any further, is there?â
You swallow, understanding immediately what it is. âNo, alpha.â
He nods almost grimly, tapping his foot against the wooden floor. âAlright then. Weâre going to go to my bedroom now.â
You blink. âWe donât share one?â
His eyes narrow slightly, lips pursing and you instinctively bow your head. âNo,â he says. âNot yet. Youâll have your own room until you earn the privilege to sleep with me.â
You nod â youâd heard that before. Itâs a common practice for new mates, particularly⊠unwilling ones, which you suppose he is at least, as admittedly crushing as that is to think.
Itâs a crucial rule, your teacher had told you; an easy and blatant mark of who is above and who is beneath. Doesnât make it very nice to hear though.
âFollow me,â he says.
He starts to walk and, lost in your thoughts, it takes you a second to realise. By the time you scurry after him heâs already noticed and regards you with a stern, but slightly amused expression. âYouâre in a daze, omega,â he says. âTry to get out of your head now. Focus on my commands. Letâs go.â
He starts to walk again and this time thereâs no delay in your obedience; you start to walk beside him, matching his pace until he stops you, looking irritated. You wonder what youâve done wrong now â or if you could ever do anything right.
âDid no one teach you about walking with your alpha?â He asks, frowning.
You shrug, shaking your head. âI donât think so, alpha.â
He sighs. âI will, then,â he says. âWhen I walk you are to walk half a step behind me. Even if weâre holding hands I will not be seen to allow an omega â my omega, at that â to walk in front of me. Got that?â
You nod, flushing â youâve never heard that rule, though itâs not entirely foreign to you. Maybe youâd been zoned out when your teacher had gone over it. It wouldnât be surprising; but in any case youâve been taught it now so you may as well obey it â and if it makes Yunho like you a little bit more, thatâs a bonus. You shuffle behind him, careful never to quite catch up with him and he keeps a close eye on your efforts. You see him nod in satisfaction and allow yourself a small smile. You can do this â youâve been trained for this. Youâre a born and bred omega, and a well-trained one at that. You can obey your alpha with your eyes closed.
Arriving outside the tall oak door, he pauses, turning to you. He lifts a strong, large hand to cup your cheek and you feel a slight jolt when he makes contact. Based on the look on his face, you know he felt it too. He stares at you, eyes narrowed before he exhales. âSoul-tied indeed,â he mutters. âThereâs no escape now, then. For either of us.â
âIâll be good,â you say; the words leave your mouth of their own accord, almost automatically. Yunho is silent for a moment, lips parted in surprise before he chuckles slightly.
âPerhaps training you up wonât be as monumental a task as Iâd thought,â he says. âYou just need a firm hand, I think.â
You say nothing, unsure how to reply and by now incredibly on-edge.
âCome in.â
He opens the door to reveal his room and you bite back a noise of surprise. You figured his room would be specious, well decorated; this is another level. The only way you could describe it is lavish. Thick, embroidered drapes hang from windows that reach from floor-to-ceiling; meeting the thick, warm carpets that cover the floors. A crackling fire burns on one side of the room, next to an open door leading to a bathroom; on the other side, a king-size bed, richly decorated and surrounded by four intricately carved posters holding up a canopy. After he enters you take a step inside, slightly dazed. Having spent the past few years of your life in the omega dormitories, youâve never seen anything like this; youâre not sure if this is just the way alphas live or if Yunho is particularly important â either way, this is overwhelming. He watches your reaction with a slight smirk. âWhat do you think?â He asks.
You nod, swallowing thickly. âIâ itâs wonderful, alpha. Iâve never seen something like this.â
âAh yes,â he says, nodding like heâs just realised. âYouâll have been in the omega dormitories, wonât you? This must be quite the shock.â
âYeah,â you breathe, still staring open-mouthed around the room.
He chuckles, taking your hand again. âYou have plenty of time to admire it later. For nowâŠâ He looks you up and down again â he keeps doing that, you think. Itâs a little unnerving.
You nod demurely, knowing and accepting the fate on the tip of his tongue. âIâm ready.â
The low sounds of the fire is all thatâs audible for a few moments before Yunho nods; as he does, shoulders tensing and untensing slightly, a foreign look crosses his eyes â a darkness; a glint. You gulp, understanding it; not necessarily recognising it consciously, but feeling it in your bones, your veins, the deepest parts of your DNA â the parts that make you an omega. His omega.
âTake off your clothes,â he says, voice dropping. âLet me see you.â
You hurry to obey, pulling off your thin shawl and shimmying out of the sleeves of your dress. At the bodice you falter; hindered slightly by the tight and complex fastenings of your corset. You huff a little, slightly vindicated; youâd told your matron this was too difficult, warmed her it may prove a problem for the alpha you were matched with but sheâd slapped you, as hard as someone is legally allowed to slap an omega thatâs not theirs, before fastening it tighter as some kind of petty revenge. Trying to get it undone, you look up at Yunho with pleading eyes.
âWhatâs wrong?â He asks, confused.
âMy corset, alpha,â you whisper.
He sighs, biting back a chuckle before rounding you to inspect the fastenings running down your back. âOh dear,â he says. âThey really packed you in there, didnât they? I feel quite useless at this.â
âYou just need to untie it,â you whisper.
He clears his throat, resting two large hands on your delicate hips â youâve never felt as small as you do now. Even in that massive auditorium. âI can try,â he says quietly.
He sets to work and, to both of your surprise, seems to get the hang of it quickly; skilled fingers undo each fastening with careful efficiency and soon the dress falls off of you entirely, pooling at your feet and leaving you in your underwear. You feel his eyes on you, practically staring a hole through you with the intensity of his gaze. You flush, turning to face him. âAlphaâŠâ you whisper, eyes cast downwards.
You hear him exhale â deep and relieved as if heâd been holding his breath. When you look up you see his eyes are wide, pupils dilated. âYou look⊠exquisite, omega.â
In the dim light of his room, illuminated by the crackling fire, you see him in a way you havenât before. He almost looks⊠golden. Your reservations about Yunho aside, you see now why your match with him was created by the Gods â itâs clear that when it comes to this man, everything was. Thereâs nothing secular about him; not a single hair or pore untouched by divinity. You gulp, stepping forward, heart pounding. âWill you kiss me, alpha?â You ask.
He doesnât waste a second; he pounces on you quickly and without restraint, attacking your mouth with his, emanating sounds you can only describe as feral. He nips and bites at your lips, running his hands across your partially nude body with growing hunger. You moan into his mouth, breathing in and gasping slightly when his hand closes around your neck, stilling you. He backs up a bit, staring you down with eyes that are now entirely dark.
âListen to me,â he growls. âYouâre my omega and Iâm going to make you a good one. Youâre going to do everything I say, when I say it. Do you understand?â
You nod, dazed. âYes, alpha.â
He releases you, sending you staggering backwards and he watches you with an amused smile. You stand still for a second, waiting for his command and he tilts his head. You try not to let your reaction show, but you know what heâs doing. Heâs playing with his food.
âCome here.â
You take another hesitant step towards him. He stares deeply into your eyes for a second before a strong hand on your shoulder forces you to your knees. Your head bows instinctively and you rest your hands in your lap like youâve been taught. From lowered eyes you look up and see him nod in satisfaction. âVery good, omega,â he smiles. âIâm pleased to see youâve already mastered this position. It will be a familiar one for you.â
You nod, trying to sit a little more straight; with such a⊠distraction in front of you, staring you down, it could be easy to lose focus, so you make a conscious effort to keep the position â back straightened, head bowed and legs together. He walks a slow circle around you, inspecting your efforts. From his slight nod you guess heâs pleased with them. âSpread your legs a little,â he says softly.
âYes, alpha.â You shift your knees ever so slightly, creating a slight gap between your legs. He watches you closely as he rounds back to face your front. Taking a step towards you he places his foot between your parted thighs â not kicking or shoving them apart any further, just sitting there, noting the gap between them.
âGood,â he says. âThis is the position I want you to remember. The same one youâve been taught but with your legs spread just enough for me to do this. Do you understand?â
You nod, swallowing thickly. He shakes his head. âTell me you understand.â
âI understand,â you whisper. At his arched brow you add a hurried âalphaâ and he smiles.
âWhen I tell you to get in position, I want you to do this,â he says. âWhen I come home from work each day, I want you waiting by the door like this. Alright?â
âAlright,â you whisper.
He stares at you for a moment, face blank but eyes focused, fixed. Youâre not sure what heâs doing â examining you? Appreciating you? Planning, maybe? You shift a little, feeling awkward. âBe still,â he says. You whisper an apology and he smiles, holding out his hand.
You take it nervously, allowing him to pull you to your feet with ease. You seem to weigh nothing to him, you think. He leads you carefully to the bed, his grip strong on your hand, and pats the thick blanket folded neatly into each corner. âCome,â he commands softly.
Moving to obey, you find the bed is a little too high â makes sense, you suppose, considering it was built for an alpha. He chuckles, recognising your predicament and grabs you gently, lifting you up and carefully placing you atop the blankets. You blush. âSorry,â you mutter.
He laughs, shaking his head. âNo need to be sorry, sweetheart,â he smiles. He clicks his tongue, thoughtful. âBesides⊠itâs a pleasant surprise just how light you are.â
âLight?â You repeat.
He hums. âDelicate.â
You bite your lip â a little too hard, apparently, because you soon taste blood. His eyes widen slightly at the sight, flooded with hunger but you know he can control himself â you thank the Gods youâre wolves and not vampires. He clears his throat, looking a little dazed and you smile to yourself. Youâre doing that.
âLie back on the pillow,â he says. âItâs time, omega.â
Ignoring the speeding of your heart, you shuffle back, situating yourself in front of the pillow and slowly lying down. You feel yourself become a little lightheaded as you do; excited and terrified all at once. This is the moment youâve waited for all your life. To be marked, to be claimed, to be mated. Bound forever. Closing your eyes, you try to steady your breathing â in, out, in, out, you chant to yourself over and over. As you do you feel a large, warm hand place itself gently on your shoulder. You donât need to open his eyes to see, feel his presence inches from your face. âKeep breathing, omega,â he mutters. His voice is low, deep, alpha.
You lift a shaking hand to place it atop of his â even with your eyes closed you can tell heâs impossibly bigger than you. You nod. âIâm ready.â
Itâs silent for a moment before a low, soft growl starts to fill the room. Itâs barely audible â you wonder if anyone else would even hear it, or if itâs part of your connection with Yunho youâre just beginning to discover. You open your eyes, adjusting to the sight of him hovering above you. He looks unsure but focused, brimming with strength and desire heâs waiting to unleash. Waiting for what?
You reach a hand out, touching his face; itâs impossibly warm and drenched with sweat. Your voice almost gets caught in your throat but you push it out. âTake me,â you whisper. âTake me, alpha.â
Itâs immediately clear that was all he needed; the moment you utter those last two fated syllables, a permission, command and plea at the same time, he pounces, diving into you to take you for his own. Your bra comes off easily, ripped off with his teeth. As they move towards your panties they graze against your skin, leaving a thin trail of blood and you can tell these are not his human teeth. No, Yunho isnât human right now, but nor is he a wolf â heâs right in the sweet spot where heâs as dominant, controlled and calculated as he is when human, but at the same time sharp, sadistic and utterly feral. The perfect mix; the perfect place. You arch your body up off the bed, offering yourself to him, pulling yourself closer. He digs his teeth into the thin band of your panties, ripping them off and discarding them without a word before his hands grab your hips, shoving them back into the mattress. âDown,â he growls, and his voice is unlike youâve ever heard it.
Wet, desperate kisses attack every inch of your now entirely bare skin, peppering the light, superficial bites he leaves; enough to hurt and enough to bleed but not enough to count. Not enough to brand you. No, that bite is special, anticipated, sacred â he canât do it yet. You both know it and he holds himself back with the knowledge.
âSpread your legs,â he orders. âNice and wide for me.â
Your breath hitches, catching in your throat. Slowly you start to part your legs, dragging them apart nervously. Youâre nervous, hesitant; he still hasnât seen your pussy yet, your most intimate and sacred area that heâs shortly going to claim in its entirety.
Youâre terrified; terrified he wonât like it, heâll think itâs ugly, heâll think itâs not as good as the omegas heâs fucked before. You know thatâs not true, realistically; mated by the gods, heâs wired to want you, need you in every way, every part of you. But no oneâs ever seen you like that before â seen you there.
Yunho snarls, not fooled by your efforts to delay it. âToo slow,â he says. He grabs your legs, yanking them apart painfully and you yelp, slipping backwards again.
âYunhoâŠâ you start â then stop. When you look up, Yunho is staring directly at your heat, eyes wide and ablaze, practically salivating. A low growl emanates from his throat, making your hairs stand on end. You shiver.
âBaby,â he says. âYouâre perfect. Iâm gonna fuck you so hard.â
A whine slips from your mouth, nervous and aroused and he shushes you. âYouâll be fine,â he whispers.
He sits back up, eyes growing dark by the minute as he hurriedly stands, allowing him to remove his pants and underwear. When he gets to the thin white dress shirt, fastened with what, in this daze of need, seems to be hundreds of buttons, he seems to grow impatient â with a low growl he easily rips it open, buttons flying everywhere. He hurriedly discards it, leaving him nude and allowing you to see him fully for the first time. You bite back a moan â heâs beautiful. Every inch of his torso is toned and perfected, skin glistening with sweat; strong, muscular thighs support his weight and as he walks back towards the bed, you see the thick muscles tensing and untensing in his arms. But thatâs not where your eyes are drawn; itâs a beautiful sight, but youâre still an omega â a hungry, desperate omega at that, so your gaze is fixed a little lower. His dick is long and impossibly thick, pulsating with desire and already leaking slightly from the angry red tip. It looks painful. Delicious. You inhale sharply, willing it towards you. âYunhoâŠâ
âIâm here,â he mutters, he clambers back onto the bed, hovering on top of you and this time wastes little time. Holding his shaft in his hand, he pumps it once, twice, getting it ready. His eyes are fixed on your entrance, entirely black and you know if this wasnât your alpha, the one bound to protect and care for you, youâd be utterly terrified. Heâs massive and powerful and dwarfs you in every way. He could rip you apart.
âIâm scared,â you whisper. It slips out without your permission but he doesnât mind. He squeezes your thigh, comforting and possessive.
âI know.â He lines his dick up to your entrance, teasing it with the tip and you jump. Youâve never been touched there before. Not even by yourself. He chuckles, reaching to stroke your hair. âKeep breathing,â he says. âFocus on my voice.â
When he finally pushes in, you feel the true scale of his size for the first time. It forces and stretches you open and you feel like youâre going to burst, come undone at the seams or collapse into yourself entirely. But the same stretch, the same burning feeling is insanely, viscerally pleasurable. Itâs unlike anything youâve felt before, anything youâve dreamed of â or feared. Itâs new and divine and just feels⊠right. He really was made for you.
Heâs taking it slow, you can tell; you feel the way heâs holding himself back, forcing himself to be gentle, and you know thatâs probably as painful for him as for you. You see the way his limbs shake as he pushes in, struggling to hold themselves back from pinning you down and splitting you open me you bite your lip. âYou can move now,â you say softly, invitingly.
He looks at you quizzically for a moment, brows furrowed, before his lips bloom into an amused, knowing smile. âOmega,â he chuckles. âIâm only halfway in.â
You canât help it; your jaw drops, falling open in shock. That canât be right. He canât beâ oh. You look down, seeing the truth of his words. Heâs halfway inside and you already feel like this. What the fuck will it feel like when heâs actually, properly in?
You soft whine sounds from the bottom of your throat, a million emotions behind it; fear, desperation, a visceral arousal. âKeep going,â you urge, though half of your brain is screaming at you not to.
Something flashes across his eyes and he shakes his head, squeezing your thigh again a little more harshly. âIâll decide, omega,â he says. You nod, muttering an apology and he groans. âFuck, omega. I swear Iâm gonna teach you some fuckinâ manners.â
âAlphaââ
âNo, not now,â he chuckles, knowing what you were going to ask. âI have a long, long time to do that. But stop trying to tell me what to do. I can control myself but not if you provoke me.â
You gulp, nodding dizzily and lying back. You donât want to provoke him â not now, anyway. There are other, less dangerous times to piss Yunho off than when heâs about to brand you. He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your lower stomach; it tickles, and you canât help the giggle that slips out. âCute,â he says. âIâm gonna get this all the way in now, baby. Hold my hand.â
You hear your heart pounding as he grabs your hand, lacing his fingers through yours. He gives it a comforting, immobilising squeeze before he finally pushes himself in fully. Having already been halfway in, youâd gotten used to the pain, but you canât help the scream that comes out. Yunho is unreal. Without even moving heâs pressed up hard against your cervix, pushing the limits of what you can take, how far your walls can stretch before breaking. You know itâs close; a wrong or sloppy movement on either of your parts could seriously cut or damage you, and the adrenaline is dizzying. And yet like this â in Yunhoâs hold, holding his hand, under his care â youâve never felt so safe. So secure. So destined.
Youâve known you were an omega since you knew what an omega was â youâd presented as a baby, and spent every moment since then being told and reminded of what you are, what you were bound to be. But you admit thereâs been times, moments where youâve wondered; wondered if this is all you were meant for, wondered if you really had a mate out there â if you even wanted one.
Now though, as Yunho slowly starts to move, stretching and pushing you to the limit yet at the same time producing feelings and sensations you didnât know were possible; as he moves in and out of you perfectly at ease, as if you were made and moulded for him, the doubt is gone. Itâs real. Itâs true. Youâre the perfect omega, his omega, and you were made for Yunho as much as he was made for you.
Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes, pained by the stretch as much as pleasured. Yunho, now speeding up to almost a rut, coos at you, kissing your tears as they slide down your cheeks. âGood girl,â he breathes. âFuck, youâre taking me so well. No oneâs ever taken me like this.â
You groan, mouth wide open and he roughly presses his lips to yours, effectively silencing you; now each sound you make goes directly into him, each scream released against his lips, into his mouth. You canât think of any way you could possibly be closer to him. ExceptâŠ
âItâs almost time,â he grunts. By now his thrusts are hard and relentless, lifting your body from the bed and slamming it back down with ruthless proficiency. Youâre on a high; impossibly stretched and unbelievably pleasured, and so is he. He lifts himself up, detaching his mouth from yours and you watch his eyes fix on your bare shoulder. Fear trickles into you, diluted by the mountain of emotions and sensations surrounding it. Heâs going to do it now. Heâs going to mark you and youâre going to be his. Forever.
âTell me I can brand you, omega,â he says. âTell me I can or I wonât be able to do it.â
âYou can brand me,â you gasp. âPlease, alpha. Make me yours. Mark me.â
He opens his mouth and you see his sharp canines more prominent than ever. He moves to take each of your hands in his, holding you down before he dives in, sinking his teeth into your supple, delicate flesh.
The pain is⊠unexpected. It hurts, undeniably so, but not in the way youâd expected. It doesnât feel like youâre being bitten, not exactly; itâs a dull yet piercing pain that perforates and warms you at the same time. Itâs not pleasurable or pleasant in any way; itâs just natural. Safe. It almost feels like home.
You close your eyes, riding it out; Yunho keeps fucking you through it, which certainly makes it easier, even as his grip on your delicate wrist turns almost bruising. Youâre not sure how long heâs biting you for, how long you stay like this; seconds or minutes baby, but you know better than to interrupt him. This is a delicate, ancient process that he knows more about than you do. You just have to take it.
He comes up eventually, eyes wild with desire and blood coating his lips â your blood. You know heâs close to wolf now; heâs only refraining from transforming because heâs still inside you, still fucking you and mating you for the first time. He keeps going, strangled, feral sounds accompanying every rough movement until he comes with a yell, unloading in you, but youâre so dizzy from the bite, from the feeling of blood trickling down your shoulder, that you barely notice until he pulls out, gathering you into his arms. He runs a finger across the mark in your shoulder, inspecting the wound. Itâs already healing slightly. The scar will be beautiful.
âMy baby,â he mutters. âMy mate. Thank you.â
âYunho,â you whisper. Your voice is hoarse, throat scratchy and painful from the screams and cries youâd let out as he fuck you and he notices, shushing you softly.
âDonât try to talk yet,â he says, chuckling slightly. âI have a loud one, donât I?â
You flush, bowing your head. âSorry.â
âBaby, no,â he laughs. âItâs a good thing. The best, actually. Makes me feel good.â
Itâs silent for a moment; a warm and comfortable silence, before you speak. âI didnât think weâd be bonded,â you admit. âI thought you hated me.â
He hums, thinking for a moment. His hand runs up and down your back in soothing motions as he holds you. âI thought so too,â he says. âBut I can see now that I⊠could never have hated you. Soul ties are just misunderstood. Theyâre so rare that not much is known about them and theyâre not taught, so I⊠I felt that powerful feeling for you and mistook it for hate.â
âSo it wasnât hate,â you say.
âOf course it wasnât,â he chuckles. âYouâre my omega. Not just because the pack leader said so or anything, but because the Gods said so. Thatâs everything. And as much as I might want to set you straight a bitââ he pauses, tapping a finger against your cheek lightly, ââand believe me, I will set you straight. The feeling I felt wasnât love. It was need.â
You nod, humming in content. Your eyes close for a second, heavy with exhaustion from your exertions before they open again. âShouldnât I go back to my room now?â
He hesitates, thinking. Heâd been the one to insist on that rule earlier, but now⊠âAccording to the rules you should,â he says. He pauses, pondering for a moment and sighs, shaking his head like he canât believe the words coming out of his mouth. âBut I want you to stay. Will you stay?â
You smile, nuzzling into his chest happily. He runs a hand through your hair, damp with sweat. You hear the steady beat of his heart and feel the rise and fall of his chest, lifting you up and setting you down with each breath.
âYes, Yunho,â you whisper. âIâll stay.â
âââââ
thank you for reading! again, this isnât proof read so please forgive errors. iâve also never written werewolf/omegaverse fics so forgive me if thereâs inaccuracies. please reblog and comment if you enjoyed. requests are OPEN. loveđ€đ€đ€
Summary: Five years ago, Mingi had to make a choiceâbetween you and his career. Back then, he chose his career, which soared rapidly afterward. Famous, beloved, celebrated all over the world. You, on the other hand, were left behindâalone, broken, and hurt. And as fate would have it, you meet again, and things take an unexpected turnâŠ
a/n: Hey everyone! Iâm still on vacation, but I didnât want to leave you hanging any longer! Hereâs the next chapter! Itâs a little shorter this time, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. Thank you so much for all your sweet comments and likes! They truly mean a lot to me!
Chapter 7
Two weeks.
Two whole weeks of being responsible adults.
Which, in your case, mostly means aggressively not looking at Mingi for too long, not standing too close, not remembering exactly how his hands feel on youâand definitely not thinking about that night. You both agreed. Clear rules. Simple.
No more crossing that line.
For the sake of the twins.
For the sake of whatever fragile, newly rebuilt dynamic you have.
For the sake of your sanity.
And honestly?
You meant it.
You still mean it.
âŠin theory.
In reality, itâs a disaster.
Because avoiding Mingi is one thing.
Being in the same room with him?
Thatâs something else entirely.
You stand in his apartment now, holding a stack of papers that suddenly feel way heavier than they should.
âJust sign here,â you say, pointing a little too quickly, a little too professionally.
Mingi nods, equally stiff. âRight.â
The two of you are the definition of awkward. No teasing. No lingering looks. No accidental touches. Itâs almost impressive.
If it werenât so painfully obvious.
He signs. You flip pages. He signs again. You nod like this is a business meeting and not the most fragile ceasefire in human history.
At one point your fingers brushâ
You both freeze. Then immediately pull back like youâve been electrocuted.
âSorry,â you mumble.
âYeah. Same.â
You clear your throat. âOkay. That should be everything.â
âGreat.â
Silence. You nod. He nods. This is fine. Everything is fine. You gather the papers quickly, clutching them like a lifeline. âI should go.â
âYeah,â Mingi agrees, way too fast. âYou should go.â
Neither of you moves.
ââŠOkay,â you say again, turning toward the door.
âOkay.â
You take three steps.
You can feel him behind you. Not touching. Not speaking. Just there.
And somehow thatâs worse. You crouch down to tie your shoe, mostly because your legs need a second to remember how to function.
This is good, you tell yourself.
Youâre leaving. Youâre being smart. Youâre in controlâ
The air shifts. You donât even fully process it beforeâ
Strong hands are suddenly on you.
ââMingiâ!â
You barely get his name out before he lifts you clean off the ground. The papers slip from your grip, scattering somewhere behind you, but neither of you cares.
Not even a little.
Your hands instinctively grab onto him as he pulls you close, and thenâ
His mouth is on yours.
So much for self-control. The kiss hits hardâimmediate, intense, like both of you have been holding your breath for two straight weeks and finally snap.
âYou were leaving,â he mutters against your lips, like heâs accusing you of something.
âYou told me to,â you shoot back, breathless.
âI didnât mean it.â
âThatâsââ you kiss him again, cutting yourself off, ââvery clear.â
He huffs a quiet laugh, but it dissolves instantly as the kiss deepens again, his grip tightening like heâs not risking you getting away this time. Youâre both terrible at this.
Absolutely terrible.
âI thought we saidââ you start, trying very weakly to sound reasonable.
âWe did,â he agrees.
âThis is a bad idea.â
âDefinitely.â
You pull back just enough to look at him.
âThis is the last time.â
âThe last time,â he echoes immediately.
You narrow your eyes. âYouâre lying.â
âSo are you.â
ââŠYeah.â
And then youâre kissing again. Thereâs really no point pretending. Youâve both been trying so hard to keep your distanceâcareful, controlled, disciplinedâand itâs been working⊠Until now.
Because once you know what this feels like,
ince youâve crossed that lineâ Going back to nothing? Impossible.
Your fingers curl into his shirt as he still holds you effortlessly, like you weigh nothing, like this is exactly where you belong.
âLast time,â you mumble again, less convincing than before.
âLast time,â he agrees, not even trying to hide the smile in his voice.
Neither of you believes it.
Not even for a second.
Steam fills the bathroom, thick and warm, curling around you like a cocoon. You have to rise onto your tiptoes just to reach himâbecause of course you do. Mingi is still unfairly tall, even under a shower, even when everything is chaotic and slippery and way too intense. Your hands grip his shoulders for balance as you stretch up, lips brushing his, and he immediately dips his head down to meet you halfway. The water runs hot over your skin, soothing, almost hypnotic after everything that just happened. Your forehead rests briefly against his chest, both of you catching your breath, the world outside reduced to nothing but white noise and heat. For a moment⊠itâs quiet. Peaceful. Dangerously comfortable. Mingiâs arms are loosely wrapped around you, his chin brushing the top of your head.
âWe said last time,â he murmurs.
You let out a soft, tired laugh. âWe say a lot of things.â
âYeah.â
âStill a bad idea,â you add.
âThe worst.â
His fingers shift slightly against your side.
Yours tighten on his shoulders.
You tilt your head up again, rising onto your toes without thinking this time. Heâs already looking at you. So much for peace. The kiss starts slowâalmost carefulâbut that lasts all of two seconds before it turns into something deeper, familiar, like slipping right back into a rhythm neither of you ever really forgot. Your tongues dancing with each other. Hot, wet, deep. Your hands slide up, his grip pulls you closer, water running between youâ
âand thenâ
âMINGI?â
You both freeze. Completely. Eyes snapping open.
The voice echoes through the apartment like a gunshot.
ââŠJongho?â Mingi whispers under his breath, like maybe if he says it quietly enough, reality will undo itself.
âMINGI, ARE YOU HERE?â comes the voice againâlouder now.
Your heart drops straight into your stomach. Fuck! Mingi looks down at you. You look up at him. Pure panic.
BANG.
The bathroom door swings open. You both jerk back instinctively, pressing yourselves against the tiled wall, hidden behind the shower curtain like the worldâs worst criminals. Water still running. Breathing held. Existence: paused.
âHyung?â Jongho calls, footsteps getting closer. âAre you showering?â
Mingi squeezes his eyes shut for a split second, then forces out, âYeah!â
Too fast. Too loud. Too suspicious.
You clamp a hand over your own mouth.
Jongho hums thoughtfully. âOkay⊠random question. Did you eat my sandwich?â
You blink.
Of all the thingsâ
Mingi blinks too.
ââŠWhat?â
âMy sandwich,â Jongho repeats, now fully in the bathroom. You can hear him moving around. Too close. Way too close. âI left it in the fridge this morning. Itâs gone.â Mingi runs a hand down his face. âJongho, this is⊠not a good time.â
âI knew it,â Jongho mutters. âIt was San, right? It has to be San. Heâs been acting weird all day.â
Mingi glances down at you like please donât move, please donât breathe, please donât exist. You nod very slowly, eyes wide.
âI donât know,â Mingi says, tryingâand failingâto sound normal. âMaybe ask him later?â
âBut youâre good at reading people,â Jongho insists. âDo you think heâd lie to me about a sandwich?â
You bite your lip so hard youâre surprised you donât make a sound. Mingi exhales slowly. âJonghoââ
âAnd also,â Jongho continues, completely ignoring him, âI need to tell you something. But you cannot tell anyone.â
Oh no! You feel the scream rising in your chest. Jongho + secret = disaster. Your eyes light up instinctively, your body already reactingâready to jump in, to ask questions, to engage like you always used toâ Mingi sees it coming.
His hand clamps over your mouth instantly.
You glare up at him, muffled protest dying against his palm. His eyes narrow at you in warning.
Donât. Make. A. Fucking. Sound!
You squint back like this is betrayal.
âMingi?â Jongho presses, confused now. âWhy are you being weird?â
âIâm not being weird,â Mingi says, voice tight. âIâm justâshowering.â
âFor a long time,â Jongho notes.
You can practically hear the suspicion forming.
âOh.â
A pause.
âOhhh.â You freeze. Mingi freezes.
ââŠWhat?â Mingi asks carefully.
Jongho snorts. âAre you thinking about her again?â You nearly choke. Mingiâs soul visibly leaves his body.
âYou know,â Jongho continues, completely unbothered, âlike old times? Thatâs why youâre taking so long? Releasing some pressure?â
Your eyes sparkle with evil delight. You poke Mingi right in the chest. He shoots you a betrayed look. You do it again. He swats your hand away silently.
You try againâ He grabs your wrist.
You twistâ
Your foot slips. Suddenly the both of you are very close to eating the shower floor.
Mingi reacts instantly, arm tightening around you, catching you just in time, pulling you flush against him to steady you.
Water splashes everywhere. There is entirely too much movement. Too much noise. Too much everything.
Outside the curtainâ
ââŠWhat was that?â Jongho asks slowly.
Mingi doesnât even hesitate. âShampoo fell.â
You stare at him. Shampoo? Jongho hums again. ââŠYou okay in there?â
âWouldnât dream of it.â Footsteps. The door.
Click.
Silence. Real silence this time. Mingi doesnât move. You donât move. Three seconds.
Five. Ten. He slowly removes his hand from your mouth. You inhale sharply.
ââŠJONGHO MET SOMEONE?!â you whisper-yell immediately.
Mingi groans, dropping his forehead against yours. âYou were this close to getting us caught.â
You grin, completely unrepentant. âWorth it.â
He lets out a breathless laugh despite himself.
ââŠWeâre terrible at this,â he mutters.
âAbsolutely horrible.â
Youâre still very close. Still pressed together.
Still under hot water.
Stillâ
Yeah.
You both know.
You really are terrible at this.
It is nearly midnight when Mingi quietly slips into the dorm. A stupid smile sits on his face.
Not that he would ever admit why.
The whole arrangement with you is perfect. Completely perfect. No relationship.
No expectations. No feelings.
Just two adults making terrible decisions on a regular basis.
And the sex? Fucking fantastic. God, you two were made for fucking each other.
Absolutely worth the constant sneaking around. So far, nobody has figured it out. The closest call had been that disaster with Jongho and the shower, but somehow the two of you had survived it. Barely.
Mingi quietly closes the front door behind him and slips off his shoes. The dorm is dark and silent. Good. Everyone is asleep. Perfect.
He starts walking down the hallwayâ
âand nearly dies.
âFuuuck!â
Yunho is suddenly standing there. Just standing there. Like some kind of seven-foot sleep paralysis demon. Mingi clutches his chest dramatically.
âDammit, Yunho!â he hisses. âAre you trying to kill me?â
Yunho grins. A grin Mingi instantly does not trust.
âWhere were you all evening?â
Mingi freezes for half a second. Then casually keeps walking. Far too casually.
âI was at the studio.â
Yunho follows. Of course he follows.
Like a giant golden retriever with a detective license.
âThe studio?â Yunho repeats.
âYep.â
âWorking?â
âYep.â
âOn songs?â
âYep.â
âAll evening?â
ââŠYep.â
âHm.â
Mingi hates that sound.
That is Yunhoâs suspicious sound. He reaches the kitchen and immediately opens the fridge, mostly because it gives him something to do with his hands.
âIâve been busy lately,â Mingi says.
âHm.â
There it is again. Mingi grabs a bottle of water. Yunho leans against the counter.
Still watching. Still smiling. Still annoying.
âThe studio, huh?â
Mingi takes a sip.
âThatâs what I said.â
âInteresting.â
âWhat is?â
âWellâŠâ
Yunho gestures vaguely toward him.
âIf youâve been at the studio all eveningâŠâ
Mingi immediately regrets existing.
ââŠwhy is your shirt inside out?â
Silence. Absolute silence. Mingi slowly looks down. His soul leaves his body. The shirt is, in fact, inside out. Very obviously. Very embarrassingly. Very suspiciously. For a few seconds he just stares at it. Then at Yunho.
Then back at the shirt. Yunho is already trying not to laugh.
âOh.â
âYeah,â Yunho says. âOh.â
Mingi clears his throat.
âI can explain.â
âPlease do.â
âIâŠâ
Nothing. His brain is empty. Completely empty. He points at the shirt.
âI took it off.â
Yunho blinks.
âYou took it off.â
âYes.â
âAnd then put it back on.â
âYes.â
âInside out.â
ââŠYes.â
âOn purpose?â
ââŠMaybe?â
Yunhoâs smile grows wider. Mingi wishes the floor would open up and swallow him.
âWhy exactly did you take it off?â
âI was hot.â
âYou were hot.â
âVery hot.â
âIn the studio.â
âYes.â
âIn the middle of the night.â
âYes.â
Yunho nods.
âInteresting.â
Mingi groans.
âStop saying interesting.â
âIt is interesting.â
âIt isnât.â
âIt really is.â
Mingi takes another sip of water. Yunho watches him. Patiently. Like a shark. Waiting.
âDid you take the shirt off yourself?â
Mingi nearly chokes.
âWhat?!â
âOr did somebody else take it off for you?â
His voice shoots up an entire octave.
âNo!â Too fast. Way too fast. Yunhoâs eyebrows climb higher. Mingi immediately realizes he has made things worse. Again.
âI meanââ
âOh my God.â
âIt isnâtââ
âOh my God.â
âYunho.â
âOh my God.â
âStop saying oh my God.â
Yunho is openly laughing now. Mingi rubs both hands over his face. This is a nightmare. A complete nightmare. He should have just gone to bed. He should have worn the shirt correctly. He should have become a monk.
âIâŠâ Mingi starts.
Then stops. Starts again.
âI mean, technicallyââ
âTechnically?â
âThat sounded worse than I meant it.â
âIt really did.â
Mingi sighs. Deeply. Painfully. Defeated.
Yunhoâs eyes narrow. A knowing look appears on his face. And suddenly Mingi knows. He knows exactly whatâs coming.
âNo way.â
Yunho points at him.
âNo way.â
âYunho.â
âThere is no way.â
âYunho.â
âItâs Y/N.â
Mingi closes his eyes. Damn it.
âIT IS Y/N.â
âKeep your voice down!â
Yunho looks delighted. Absolutely delighted.
Like Christmas came early.
âYouâre seeing Y/N again.â
âWeâre not seeing each other.â
âOh?â
âWeâre not.â
âSure.â
âWeâre not!â
âSure.â
Mingi groans. Yunho laughs harder.
âYou are terrible at lying.â
âI am not.â
âYou walked into the dorm smiling.â
âI always smile.â
âYou never smile like that.â
âI do.â
âYou looked like somebody had handed you the winning lottery ticket.â
Mingi points aggressively.
âYou cannot tell anyone.â
Yunho immediately looks offended.
âI would never.â
âYou absolutely would.â
âI would not.â
âYou absolutely would.â
Yunho considers this.
ââŠOkay, maybe San.â
âYUNHO.â
âAnd Wooyoung.â
âYUNHO.â
âAnd maybe Yeosang.â
âYUNHO!â
Yunho bursts out laughing. Mingi drops his forehead against the refrigerator door.
His life is over. Completely over.
âYou fucking clever idiot,â Mingi mutters.
Yunho grins proudly.
âI know.â
Mingi sighs.
âYou cannot tell anyone. We want Sia and Nari to not know!â
Yunho holds up both hands.
âFine. Fine. Your secret is safe with me.â
Mingi narrows his eyes.
âI donât trust you.â
âThatâs fair.â
âI mean it.â
âI know.â
âNobody can know.â
Yunho studies him for a moment. The teasing softens slightly. Then he smiles.
A genuine one.
âYou look happy, though.â
Mingi opens his mouth. Ready to deny it.
Ready to come up with another excuse. Ready to lie.
But for onceâŠ
Nothing comes out.
Because the truth is annoyingly obvious.
And Yunho sees it immediately. He is still grinning when Mingi finally straightens up from the refrigerator. Unfortunately. Very unfortunately. The grin looks familiar. And Mingi knows exactly what that means. Yunho has another thought. A dangerous one.
âSoâŠâ Yunho says slowly.
Mingi immediately sighs.
âNo.â
âYou donât even know what Iâm going to say.â
âI know enough.â
Yunho ignores him completely.
âSo youâre together again?â
Mingi nearly drops his water bottle.
âWhat?â
âYou and Y/N.â
âNo.â
âNot officially?â
âNo.â
âSecretly?â
âNo.â
âThinking about it?â
âNo.â
Yunho narrows his eyes. Mingi narrows his eyes right back. For a moment they simply stare at each other. Then Yunho speaks.
âHave you thought about marrying her this time?â
Mingiâs entire face goes blank. Completely blank. As if somebody just unplugged his brain.
ââŠWhat?â
Yunho shrugs.
âIâm just asking.â
âWHY WOULD YOU ASK THAT?!â
His voice cracks halfway through the sentence. Yunho immediately starts laughing.
âThere it is.â
âThere WHAT is?!â
âThat panic.â
âThere is no panic!â
âMingi.â
âThere is no panic!â
âYou sound panicked.â
Mingi drags both hands down his face.
âOh my fucking God.â
âMingi.â
âNo.â
âMingi.â
âNO.â
Yunho looks completely unbothered.
âYou loved her.â
âWeâre not talking about this.â
âYou have children together.â
âWe are definitely not talking about this.â
âYou almost had a family.â
Mingi points aggressively.
âWe HAVE a family.â
The words leave his mouth before he can stop them.
Silence. Yunho notices. His expression softens immediately.
âYeah,â he says quietly. âYou do.â
For a second neither of them says anything.
Then Mingi clears his throat. A little too loudly.
âWeâre not getting married.â
âOkay.â
âWeâre not dating.â
âOkay.â
âWeâre not trying again.â
âOkay.â
âWeâre just sleeping together.â
Yunho blinks.
âYeah.â
âOh.â
âYeah.â
âOh.â
Mingi rolls his eyes.
âStop saying âohâ.â
Yunho looks genuinely surprised now.
âSo thatâs it?â
âThatâs it.â
âJust sex?â
âJust sex.â
âNo relationship?â
âNo.â
âNo feelings?â
âNo.â
âNo emotional complications?â
âNope.â
Yunho stares. Mingi smirks. The confidence returns instantly.
âSee?â
Yunho still looks unconvinced. Mingi leans back against the counter.
âItâs easy.â
âEasy?â
âVery.â
âWith Y/N?â
âYes.â
âThe woman you were in love with for years.â
âAncient history.â
âThe mother of your children.â
âCoincidence.â
Yunho almost chokes.
âCoincidence?!â
Mingi starts laughing.
âIâm kidding.â
âYouâre unbelievable.â
Mingi shrugs.
âWeâre adults.â
âUh-huh.â
âWe know what weâre doing.â
âSure.â
âWe set boundaries.â
âWonderful.â
âItâs casual.â
âFantastic.â
âItâs just really good sex.â
Yunho immediately grimaces.
âOkay.â
Mingi grins.
âReally good.â
âMingi.â
âLike, unbelievablyââ
âMingi.â
âLife-changingââ
âI DONâT NEED DETAILS!â
Mingi bursts out laughing. Yunho throws a kitchen towel at him.
âYouâre disgusting.â
âYou asked.â
âI did not ask.â
âYou implied.â
âI absolutely did not imply.â
Mingiâs grin widens. Yunho groans.
Sometimes being friends with Song Mingi is exhausting. Very exhausting.
The laughter slowly dies down.
And then Yunho notices something.
A tiny shift. A tiny hesitation. Just for a second. Something in Mingiâs expression changes. And Yunho has known him for far too long to miss it.
âWhat?â Mingi asks.
âHm?â
âThat look.â
âWhat look?â
âThat look.â
Yunho smiles. Slowly. Knowingly. Mingi immediately regrets speaking.
âNothing.â
âYunho.â
âNothing at all.â
âYunho.â
Yunho waves a hand dismissively.
âNo, no. Forget it.â
âSay it.â
âNo.â
âSay it.â
Yunho laughs. Mingi groans.
âYouâre impossible.â
âAnd youâre avoiding the question.â
âWhat question?â
âThe one you donât want me to ask.â
Mingi already knows where this is going.
And he hates it. Deeply.
âYunho.â
âAre you absolutely sure nobody is going to develop feelings?â
Mingi exhales dramatically.
âThere it is.â
âIâm serious.â
âSo am I.â
âYou two were together for years.â
âWe were.â
âYou loved each other.â
âWe did.â
âYou have children together.â
âWe know.â
âYou spend more time together now than most married couples.â
âOkay, now youâre exaggerating.â
âAm I?â
Mingi opens his mouth. Then closes it again.
BecauseâŠ
Actually.
Maybe.
A little.
Yunho crosses his arms. Looking every bit like an older brother preparing to lecture someone. Which is ridiculous.
Because theyâre practically the same age.
Yet somehow Yunho still manages it.
âMingi.â
The concern in his voice is genuine now.
No teasing. No jokes. Just worry.
âYou donât want this ending badly.â
âIt wonât.â
âYou donât know that.â
âIt wonât.â
âYou sound very confident.â
âI am.â
Yunho studies him carefully.
âYou were crazy about her once.â
Mingiâs gaze drops briefly. Just briefly.
A second. Maybe less. But Yunho sees it.
Of course he sees it.
Back thenâŠ
God.
Back then Mingi had loved you with everything he had. The kind of love that consumed entire years. The kind that changed people. The kind that never really leaves. Even after five years. Even after heartbreak. Even after mistakes.
Mingi swallows. Then forces a smile. A relaxed one. An easy one.
The same smile heâs been using for weeks.
âItâs different now.â
âIs it?â
âYeah.â
âYou sure?â
Mingi nods. Too quickly.
âWeâre adults.â
Yunho raises an eyebrow.
âWe can separate love and sex.â
âHm.â
âWeâre keeping it simple.â
âHm.â
âItâs just sex.â
âHm.â
âNo feelings.â
âHm.â
âNo relationship.â
âHm.â
âNo chance of falling in love.â
Yunho is trying very hard not to laugh now.
Mingi narrows his eyes.
âWhat?â
âNothing.â
âWhat?â
âNothing at all.â
âYunho.â
Yunho finally shakes his head. A fond smile pulling at his lips.
âMingi.â
âWhat?â
âJust be careful.â
The joking is completely gone now.
âYou and Y/N have both been through enough.â
Mingi looks away. Toward the dark window.
Toward his reflection. Toward the smile that still hasnât completely disappeared since leaving your house.
âYou donât want either of you ending up with a broken heart⊠again.â
For a moment, Mingi says nothing.
Because deep down⊠In a place he has been very deliberately ignoring⊠There is a tiny voice asking uncomfortable questions.
Questions about why he keeps finding excuses to stay a little longer. Why leaving your house gets harder every night. Questions about why he keeps finding excuses to stay a little longer. Why leaving your house gets harder every night. Why seeing you smile at him feels dangerous. Very dangerous.
But he shoves all of that away immediately.
Locks it up. Pretends it doesnât exist.
âNo worries,â he says lightly.
Then he hops off the counter. Back to being relaxed. Back to being casual. Back to pretending.
âWeâre not going to fall in love again.â
Yunho watches him. The smile on his face turning strangely soft. Amused. Affectionate. And not convinced for even a second.
Mingi salutes him.
âGoodnight.â
Yunho chuckles under his breath.
âGoodnight, Romeo.â
âShut up.â
âSure.â
And as Mingi disappears down the hallway, Yunho shakes his head. Because if there is one thing he knows about Song Mingi, itâs that the man has always been absolutely terrible at recognizing when heâs already in love.
One of the biggest advantages of having Mingi back in the girlsâ lives?
Free time. Actual, real free time.
Which is exactly why youâre currently wandering through a department store with Mina while Sia and Nari are spending the afternoon with their father.
For the first time in years, you donât have to rush home. You donât have to check the time every five minutes.
You donât have to worry about finding a babysitter. You can simply exist. And unfortunately for you, Mina has decided to spend that freedom shopping for lingerie.
âLook at this one,â Mina says dramatically, holding up something made of approximately three strings and a prayer.
You stare.
âThatâs not underwear.â
âIt absolutely is.â
âIt covers nothing.â
âIt covers the important parts.â
âBarely.â
Mina grins.
âYou say that like itâs a bad thing.â
You roll your eyes and continue browsing.
Normally, this part of shopping is entirely Minaâs territory. For the last five years, your love life has been practically nonexistent. Between raising twins alone, working, surviving, and trying not to lose your sanity, sexy lingerie hasnât exactly been a priority.
Who would you even wear it for?
Today your attention lingers. Just briefly.
Just casually. Just enough to pick up a black lace set that looks suspiciously impractical and examine it. Purely hypothetical. For research purposes. Nothing more. Unfortunately for you, Mina notices everything. Especially things that donât fit your usual behavior.
Her eyes narrow immediately. Slowly. Dangerously. She stares at the lingerie in your hands. Then at you.
Then back at the lingerie.
âOh.â
You already hate that tone.
âOh?â you ask cautiously.
Mina points dramatically at the black lace.
âOkay.â
âNo.â
âSpill.â
You sigh.
âMinaââ
âWho are you fucking?â
The question comes out loud. Far too loud. Several nearby shoppers glance over. You nearly drop the lingerie.
âMina!â you hiss.
âWhat?â
âKeep your voice down!â
Mina looks completely unbothered. Absolutely shameless. One of the many reasons sheâs both your favorite person and your greatest headache.
âWho is it?â
âNo one.â
âSweetheart.â
âThere is no one!â
âSweetheart.â
You laugh nervously. A terrible mistake.
Mina immediately points at you.
âThere it is.â
âWhat?â
âThe guilty laugh.â
âI donât have a guilty laugh.â
âYou absolutely have a guilty laugh.â
You turn away and pretend to inspect another rack.
âMaybe I just want nice underwear.â
You donât even have to look at her. You can feel the skepticism radiating off her. Slowly, you glance over. Mina is staring. One eyebrow raised. Completely unimpressed.
âSweetheart,â she says patiently, âIâve known you for half my life.â
You groan.
âYou would never buy this unless there was somebody with a dick you wanted to see it.â
She gently plucks the lingerie from your hands. Holds it up. Studies it. Then looks back at you.
âThis thing isnât even comfortable.â
âMina.â
âWho is he?â
âNo one.â
âYouâre lying.â
You immediately start walking away. Fast. Very fast. Unfortunately, Mina follows. Of course she does. A sharp gasp suddenly escapes her. You know that gasp. And you know youâre in trouble.
âOh my God.â
âNo.â
âOh my God.â
âMina.â
âThere IS someone.â
âMina!â
âThere is!â
You grab her arm.
âWill you stop shouting?â
Her eyes are sparkling now. This is the most excitement sheâs had all week.
âWho is it?â
âNo one.â
âIs it that terrible Mr. Potato Head guy?â
You look horrified.
âNo!â
Mina physically recoils.
âThank God.â
âObviously not.â
âOoooh.â
Her eyes widen.
âI know⊠you gotta be fucking kidding me?!â
You immediately slap your hand over her mouth. Too late. Way too late.
Minaâs eyes become enormous. Then she makes a muffled sound against your palm.
ââŠMmmph?â
You narrow your eyes.
âMmmph?â
Her eyes somehow widen further.
ââŠMINGI?â
You close your eyes. And groan. Loudly.
Because apparently your best friend is a psychic. The second you remove your hand, she explodes.
âYOUâRE FUCKING WITH MINGI?!â
Half the store probably hears her.
âSHHHHH!â
You immediately grab her wrist and drag her toward a secluded corner behind a display. Mina is practically vibrating.
âOh my God.â
âMina.â
âOh my God.â
âMina.â
âOh my God. You really fucking him again.â
âMina!â
She suddenly claps her hands together. Once. Twice. Three times.
âI KNEW IT.â
You stare.
âWhat exactly did you know?â
âThat man has been in love with you for years.â
Your mouth falls open.
âWhat?â
âIt took him long enough.â
âMinaââ
âI mean honestly.â
She throws her hands in the air.
âThe motherfucker practically won the lottery with you and then threw away the ticket.â
âMina!â
âAnd now heâs finally realized youâre the woman of his lifeâŠagain.â
You blink. Several times. Completely speechless.
âWhat? No!â
Mina pauses.
âNo?â
âNo!â
âYouâre not together?â
âNo.â
Mina frowns. Deeply confused. The concept clearly does not compute.
âThen what exactly is happening?â
You immediately regret being alive. Your face grows warm. You clear your throat.
Twice. Then three times.
Mina watches with increasing suspicion.
âWeâreâŠâ
You stare at the floor.
ââŠjust sleeping together.â
Silence. A long silence. The kind that should worry anyone. Slowly, Mina blinks.
âWhat?â
âWeâre sleeping together.â
âJust sleeping together?â
You nod.
âNo relationship?â
âNo.â
âNo dating?â
âNo.â
âNo feelings?â
âExactly.â
Mina stares at you like youâve just informed her the Earth is flat.
âWhat?â
You sigh.
âWe agreed.â
Mina still looks horrified.
âItâs casual.â
âWhat?â
âItâs just sex.â
âWhat.â
âMina.â
âWhat.â
You rub your temples.
âYou cannot tell anyone.â
Immediately, her expression changes. Serious now. Well⊠As serious as Mina gets.
âThe girls donât know,â you continue. âAnd we want to keep it that way.â
Mina nods.
âFine.â
âPromise.â
âI promise.â
âActually promise.â
âI promise.â
You exhale in relief. Then Mina folds her arms. And gives you a look. The look. The one that means she thinks youâre being an idiot.
âThatâs bullshit.â
You blink.
âWhat?â
âEverything you just said.â
You stare. Mina stares back.
âItâs not bullshit.â
âIt absolutely is.â
âMinaââ
âSweetheart.â
Her voice softens slightly.
âYou know who gets to have casual sex?â
You point at yourself.
âMe?â
âNo.â
You lower your hand.
âOh.â
âStrangers.â
âWhat?â
âPeople who donât know each other.â
âMinaââ
âNo.â
She shakes her head.
âNot you two.â
You roll your eyes.
âMina.â
âYou were together for years.â
âYears ago.â
âYou loved each other.â
âWe were young.â
âYou have children together.â
You open your mouth. Close it. Open it again. Nothing comes out.
Mina points triumphantly.
âExactly.â
âWeâre adults now.â
âSo?â
âWe have rules.â
She laughs. Actual laughter.
âOh sweetheart.â
âWhat?â
âNobody in the history of humanity has ever said âwe have rulesâ right before making a good decision.â
You groan.
âIt is simple.â
âSure.â
âIt is.â
âSure.â
âWe are not getting feelings involved.â
âSure.â
You narrow your eyes. Mina smiles sweetly.
Far too sweetly.
âI am not falling for Mingi again.â
Mina snorts. You glare.
âIâm serious.â
âSo am I.â
You cross your arms. Mina sighs. Then gently takes your hand. The teasing fades.
Just for a moment. Because beneath all the chaos and flirting and outrageous comments, Mina has always been protective of you. Especially when it comes to him.
âListen.â
You meet her eyes.
âIâm genuinely happy youâre having fun again.â
Despite yourself, you smile.
âThat sounds like you.â
âIt does, doesnât it?â
âIt really does.â
She grins. Then squeezes your hand.
âBut be careful.â
Your smile falters slightly.
âMinaâŠâ
âHe broke your heart once.â
The words are gentle. Not accusatory. Not angry. Just honest. And somehow that makes them worse.
For a second, neither of you speaks.
Then you force a smile.
âWeâre fine.â
Mina studies you. Clearly unconvinced.
But eventually she nods.
âOkay.â
âOkay.â
âYour secret is safe with me.â
Relief floods through you.
âThank you.â
âBesides,â Mina says, already grabbing another lace set from a nearby rack, âif this eventually turns into a romantic disaster, Iâll get to say I told you so.â
You groan. She beams.
âAnd honestly?â
âWhat now?â
Mina holds up a scandalously tiny piece of black lace.
âIf youâre going to make questionable life choices, at least buy the matching set.â
You burst out laughing despite yourself. Because thatâs the thing about Mina.
Life is always louder when sheâs around.
Always messier. Always more fun.
But as the two of you continue shopping, her words linger in the back of your mind.
He broke your heart once.
And for the briefest moment, something uncomfortable twists in your stomach.
You ignore it.
Because this is simple. Just sex. No feelings.
No relationship. No complications.
âŠRight?
The rules are clear. Very clear.
You even made Mingi repeat them again yesterday.
âNumber one,â you say, counting on your fingers. âNo one can know.â
âNumber two: no sleepovers,â he adds.
âNumber three: no flirting in front of the others.â
âNumber four,â you finish, looking him dead in the eyes, âthis is physical. Nothing emotional.â
He nods. Serious. Focused.
âWe can do that.â
You nod back.
âWe can definitely do that.â
You cannot do that.
Because nowâ
Youâre standing in front of the studio building. Wearing heels. A long coat.
And absolutely nothing appropriate underneath.
You glance down briefly.
Yeah.
This was either a brilliant ideaâŠ
or the fucking worst one youâve ever had.
ââŠItâs fine,â you mutter to yourself. âIn and out.â You walk in.
Confident. Fast. Like you belong here.
Which you do. Technically.
You pass the front desk with a quick smile, heading straight for the hallway that leads to Mingiâs studio.
Almost there.
Almostâ
âWhoa, whoaâhold on.â
You freeze.
Of course.
Of fucking course.
You slowly turn around.
There he is.
Wooyoung.
Shit! Shit! Shit!
Leaning casually against the wall like heâs been waiting for entertainment all day.
And apparentlyâhe just found it.
âWell, this is interesting,â he says, pushing himself off the wall, eyes scanning you from head to toe. âDidnât expect to see you here.â
You force a smile. âHi.â
ââŠHi,â he repeats, grinning wider. âWhat are you doing here?â
âJustâuhâvisiting.â
âVisiting,â he echoes, clearly not buying it.
He takes a step closer.
You take a step back.
He notices.
Oh, he definitely notices.
ââŠWhy are you standing like that?â he asks, tilting his head.
âIâm not standing like anything.â
âYou are,â he says immediately. âYou look like if you move too fast, something will fall off.â Your soul leaves your body. You laugh.
Too loud.
âWow. Haha. Thatâs crazy. AnywayâI should goââ
You try to step past him.
He blocks you.
Effortlessly.
âOh no,â Wooyoung says, shaking his head. âYou donât just show up looking like that and then leave without explaining.â
âI look normal.â
He raises an eyebrow.
âNormal?â
âYes.â
âIn a coat. Inside. With heels. Like youâre about to either attend a gala or commit a crime or getâŠ?â
You cross your arms instinctively.
Big mistake.
The coat shifts slightly. Wooyoungâs eyes narrow.
âOh, this is getting better,â he murmurs.
âItâs not.â
âIt is.â
âItâs really not.â
He steps even closer now, reaching out casually.
âHere, let me take your coatââ
You jump back like he just tried to stab you.
âNO!â
The hallway goes silent. Wooyoung blinks.
ââŠThat was aggressive.â
âNo, it wasnât,â you say quickly. âI justâIâm cold.â
âYouâre cold.â
âYes.â
âIn a heated building?â
âYes.â
âIn that coat.â
ââŠYes.â
He stares at you. Then grins.
Oh no.
âOh my god,â he says, delighted. âYouâre hiding something.â
And that was the moment when you knew you were totally fucked.
Summary: Five years ago, Mingi had to make a choiceâbetween you and his career. Back then, he chose his career, which soared rapidly afterward. Famous, beloved, celebrated all over the world. You, on the other hand, were left behindâalone, broken, and hurt. And as fate would have it, you meet again, and things take an unexpected turnâŠ
a/n: Here I am again! Okay guys⊠finally, finally thereâs smut! I know my smut writing still needs improvement, but Iâm trying my best! Thank you so much for all the likes, comments, and reblogs!Love you guys!
Chapter 6
The kindergarten hallway smells like finger paint, disinfectant, and stale coffeeâand youâre pretty sure if you have to breathe it in for one more second, youâll actually lose your mind.
Youâre exhausted. Not just tiredâexhausted. The kind that sits behind your eyes and makes everything feel just a little too loud, too bright, too much. All you want is your bed, your blanket, and absolutely no other human beings.
And yet.
Here you are.
Mingi walks beside you, a black cap pulled low over his face, hands shoved casually into his pockets like heâs hoping to pass unnoticed. It would almost workâalmostâif he wasnât, well⊠him. Tall, broad, impossible to miss. A couple of parents are already staring. One whispers. Another nudges their partner. Someone blatantly turns around to get a second look. You sigh heavily, rubbing your temple. âWe shouldâve brought a cardboard cutout of you instead.â
Mingi glances down at you, amused. âI think that would attract even more attention.â
âGreat,â you mutter. âNext time Iâm coming alone.â
âYouâd miss me.â
âIâd miss the peace.â
He huffs out a quiet laugh, but you barely register it. Youâre already moving toward the exit, determined to escape before anyone else can stop you.
âFreedom,â you murmur under your breath.
âBarely survived,â Mingi agrees lightly, matching your pace with ease.
âNext time, youâre wearing a full disguise.â
âI am the disguise.â
You snortâthen stop dead in your tracks.
Of course.
Of course itâs her.
The mother of the boy who shoved Nari last week. She stands near the exit like sheâs been waiting, posture straight, smile polished and just a little too eager. Soft features, carefully styledâsomeone who clearly prides herself on appearances.
âMr. Song!â she exclaims, stepping forward immediately, her attention locked on Mingi. âI was hoping Iâd catch you! Iâm such a huge fanâmy son listens to Ateezâ new album all the time!â Your jaw tightens.
Mingi gives a polite nod, reserved as always. âThank you. I appreciate that.â
âOh, he just adores you,â she continues, leaning a little closer. âHonestly, itâs such an honor to have your children in the same class as mine.â
Thatâs it.
Youâre done.
Completely done.
This fucking bitch. Yep, you going to kill her.
You inhale slowly, but it comes out sharper than you intended. âMaybe your son should apologize to Nari first,â you cut in, voice tight, âinstead of you trying to charm her dad.â
Silence drops like a curtain.
Mingi blinks.
The womanâs smile flickersâthen disappears entirely. âExcuse me?â
You wave a hand dismissively. âOh, donât play stupid with me. He pushed her. Remember? Or did that not make it into your highlight reel?â
Her eyes narrow. âThatâs incredibly rude.â
âYeah,â you nod, unfazed. âYou might recognize the trait. Kids usually pick it up from somewhere.â Mingi presses his lips together, very obviously trying not to laugh.
âOh, you are unbelievable,â she snaps, color rising in her cheeks.
âAnd youâre deflecting,â you shoot back, stepping closer. âWhich is honestly impressive, consideringââ
She takes a step back. Just one.
But you notice. And so does Mingi.
Your height might be⊠modestâbut right now? The look in your eyes more than makes up for it.
âMr. Song,â she says quickly, redirecting her attention like heâs her escape route, âyou really should control your wife.â
You let out a sharp, incredulous laugh.
âYeah,â Mingi cuts in smoothly. He reaches for your hand, fingers slipping into yours and lacing them together effortlessly. Then he lifts your joined hands just slightly, giving you a scheming little grin. âShe keeps me on a very short leash.â
You shoot him a flat, deeply sarcastic look.
He just smiles wider. The woman scoffs. âMaybe if you two focused on your marriage, your children wouldnât be so⊠sensitive.â
Mingi exhales slowly.
Uh oh.
He knows that look.
You going to kill her..
âAlright Mingi, hold my purseâŠâ
Youâre seconds away from launching yourself across the hallway.
So before you can move, he steps in front of you.
And in one ridiculously smooth motion,
he hoists you over his shoulder.
âWhat theâMingi!â
Your view flips instantly, dignity abandoned somewhere on the kindergarten floor.
âMingi, put me DOWNâ!â
âNope.â
âI am NOT doneâ!â
âYes, you are, wifey.â
You kick your legs, twisting as he calmly starts walking toward the exit like this is completely normal. Behind you, you can practically feel the stunned silence.
âStop calling me that!â you hiss, thumping lightly against his back.
âMhm.â
âI just wanted to talk to her!â
âYou were about to commit a felony.â
âShe started it!â
âAnd you were about to finish it.â
You huff, arms crossing as much as your position allows.
Smack, right on your ass.
You freeze.
ââŠDid you justââ
âYouâre hot when youâre angry wifey,â Mingi says easily, his hand settling on your assâand staying there like it belongs.
You go completely still.
âDonât call me that! I hate you!â
âNot true.â
ââŠa little true.â
He chuckles, adjusting his grip slightly as your resistance finally fades, your energy draining out of you all at once.
âCarâs this way,â he murmurs.
You sigh, letting your head rest against his back. âIâm still mad.â
âI know.â
ââŠShe deserved it.â
âShe did.â
ââŠYouâre still annoying.â
âI know that too.â
A pause.
You roll your eyes, but donât argue as he carries you the rest of the way to the car.
The drive is quiet. Too quiet.
The city lights blur past the window, streaks of gold and white against the dark, but you barely register any of it. Your head is heavy against the seat, your body running on fumes.
Your car breaking down earlier was just the final insult of the day. Of course it had to happen today.
You sigh, rubbing your face. âI just want to sleep for a week.â Mingi hums softly from the driverâs seat. âTempting.â
Your phone buzzes.
You glance down, expecting another headacheâbut instead, itâs a message from your mom.
The twins want to stay over tonight. Hope thatâs okay.
You blink. Then exhale slowly.
ââŠOkay,â you mutter.
âWhat?â Mingi asks.
âThe twins are staying with my mom.â
A small pause.
âGood,â he says, a little too casually.
You narrow your eyes slightly but donât comment. The car pulls up in front of your building, the engine going quiet. For a moment, neither of you moves.
âThanks for the ride,â you mumble, already reaching for the door.
âIâll walk you up.â
You groan softly. âMingiââ
âIn case someone tries to kidnap you.â
You snort. âYeah, thatâs exactly the problem.â
âOr,â he adds calmly, stepping out of the car, âin case you hurt someone.â
You give him a flat look as you climb out. âIâm too tired for violence.â
âDebatable.â
You roll your eyes but donât argue. Honestly, you donât have the energy. Anything that gets you to bed faster. The hallway to your apartment is dim and quiet, your footsteps echoing softly. You fumble a little with your keys, exhaustion finally catching up to you in full force. The door clicks open.
You step inside.
Stillness.
It settles between you without warning.
No noise. No distractions. Just the two of you. You turn slowly.
Mingi is standing there, just inside the doorway, watching you. For a second, something shifts. Your expression softensâjust barely.
In a perfect worldâŠ
You swallow.
In a perfect world, this would be easy.
You and Mingiâyou worked. You always had. Effortlessly. Emotionally, physically⊠everything just fit in a way that never made sense with anyone else. Like something inevitable. Like something meant.
No one had ever made you feel like that.
No one had ever touched you like that.
Your gaze driftsâjust for a secondâto his lips. And there it is.
That familiar spark that you pushed down for five years. That dangerous, electric pull that sinks straight into your chest and spreads, slow and warm and impossible to ignore. Itâs been a long time, since someone, a man touched you. Too long. Your body remembers before your mind can catch up. And thatâs the problem.
Because this?
You and Mingi again? This is a terrible idea.
A horrible, catastrophic, absolutely idiotic idea. You hate him.
Youâre not supposed to want this.
Your heart and your brain are practically screaming at you to take a step back, to turn around, to end this moment before it starts -but your body?
Doesnât care. Not even a little.
Your breath catches.
And before you can think too much again, before you can stop yourself,
you close the distance and press your lips against his.
Itâs not gentle.
Itâs not careful.
Itâs impulsive, messy, full of everything youâve been holding backâand the second it happens, itâs like striking a match in a room full of gasoline. Mingi freezes for half a heartbeat. Then he exhales sharply against your mouth, one hand coming up to your waist, pulling you closer like heâs been waiting for this exact moment.
The kiss deepens instantly, heat flaring, familiar and overwhelming and dangerous in the way only the two of you ever are. Your fingers clutch at his shirt without thinking, grounding yourself in something solid as everything else spins. This is a mistake. You know it. He knows it.
But neither of you stops.
Still tangled together, you barely make it past the doorway. Your back hits the wall firstâsoftly, clumsilyâbecause neither of you is paying attention to where youâre going. Youâre too busy kissing him like youâve both forgotten how to breathe, like letting go would be the worst mistake of your life.
Itâs messy. Hungry.
Your tongues are intertwined. Desperate in a way that makes your chest ache.
Your hands are in his hair, his cap long forgotten somewhere near the entrance, and his arms are wrapped tightly around you, pulling you flush against him like heâs afraid you might disappear if he loosens his grip for even a second. One of his hands wanders to your ass and he roughly grabs the soft flesh.
You stumble forward together, half walking, half crashing into furniture, lips never quite parting, every movement uncoordinated and urgent. The kiss is hot and wet. Saliva is everywhere. It feels like too much.
Like everything at once.
And for a split secondâjust oneâyour brain finally catches up. This is a mistake.
A huge fucking mistake.
Your hands press lightly against his chest, a breath catching as you try to pull back, to break the kiss before it goes any furtherâ
âMingi, weââ
âI missed you, dolly.â
The words are low, rough, right against your lips. Everything stops. Not around you. Just inside you.
That name.
Your name.
The one he gave you years ago, half teasing, half fond, because of how small you always looked next to him. Most of the time he calls you that while you two were fucking the whole night. He hasnât used it in so long it almost feels like a memory instead of something real.
And yetâ
Here it is.
Soft. Familiar. Dangerous. Because this name always leads to sex.
You feel it everywhere.
Your chest tightens, your breath stutters, and whatever resistance you had left just⊠melts.
Completely. Gone.
Your fingers curl into his shirt again, this time not to push him awayâbut to pull him closer. Standing on your toes, you press your tits against his pecs.
Thereâs no coming back from this.
Not anymore.
Not when he looks at you like that.
Not when he says your name like it still belongs to him.
âDonâtââ you start, but it comes out weaker than you intend, your resolve slipping through your fingers.
Mingiâs thumb brushes along your jaw, his forehead almost resting against yours, his voice quieter nowâbut somehow even more intense.
âDonât stop,â he murmurs.
And you donât. You kiss him again. Deeper.
Like youâve already decided you donât care about the consequences. Like you never did.
Once again, you begin kissing passionately. His wet tongue explores your hot mouth. His hands wander down your body. You rise even higher on your toes and press yourself closer to him. His hand grips the back of your neck and roughly pulls you back by your hair. You moan, eyes closed, mouth slightly open. "What do you want, dolly, hm?" Mingi asks in a husky voice, briefly examining your face, before he licks in your open mouth. "I... I want you," you sigh hotly, opening your eyes. You see his greedy gaze fixed on you. His hand is on your ass again, his fingers digging inside. "Oh my dolly, use your words precisely, what do you want from me?" He pulls your hair harder again, and you moan loudly, no shame left. God, you want him more than anything.
"I want you to fuck me."
Not a second after you uttered those words, Mingi grabs your hamstrings and lifts you up with a careless ease. You immediately wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, leaning forward slightly to slide your tongue down his throat. You could feel his hard erection against your thighs. As if you were as light as a feather, Mingi carried you to your bedroom, kicked the door shut with his leg, and laid you down on your back on the bed. "Still so pretty dolly" he murmured, pressing you down into the mattress with his body weight. While one hand began kneading your breasts, he braced himself with his other forearm beside you to avoid crushing you completely. He began to shower the sensitive skin of your neck with hot kisses, licking small circles with his tongue, nibbling at your skin, and gently kissing those spots. You crane your neck to offer more surface area, and your hand wanders into his hair. God, this man is driving you crazy! Said man unbuttons your blouse and wants to inspect your breasts as quickly as possible. "Good Lord, have they gotten bigger?" he asks in surprise, his large hands squeezing your breasts together. You just shrug, amused, but immediately bite your lip as Mingi impatiently pulls off your bra and starts sucking on your nipples. While he sucks on one, his other hand plays with your stiff nipple. You moan and become restless beneath him.
Your hands tug at his sweater, which he casually pulls over his head. Your eyes travel down his body. Oh fuck, he's gotten broader and more muscular! You pull him closer for another hot, passionate kiss. "Let me do something nice for you,dolly," Mingi purrs, his lips brushing your cheek to your ear. "Let me lick you until you scream." You have to suppress a grin, because Mingi was and apparently still is the king of dirty talk. When he takes one of your nipples in his hand again and plays with it, you moan loudly and close your eyes. "I'll take that as a yes," he chuckles in a deep voice, slowly moving off you. He practically crawls your tight skirt off, and when he sees your tight, black panties, he greedily licks his lips. He quickly removes your remaining clothes, his hands sliding under your thighs to lift your hips higher. You feel his hot breath on your pussy, and you shudder as he licks it with his thick tongue. "You still taste so sweet, dolly," he purrs, pushing his head back between your legs. He licks and sucks your clit, his strong, large hands holding you in place for him. You flinch, your hips automatically shifting closer to his face. Your hand grips his hair. You moan and writhe, but he has a firm hold on you, even as one hand releases his and he slides a finger into your eager opening. "Mingi, fuck ⊠ah," you moan his name more intensely. "Yes, Dolly, just the way you like it," Mingi replies, inserting another finger inside you. His fingers pump relentlessly inside you, and when he gently curves them, you moan loudly. Once again, he plays, teases, and licks your clit, noticing how restless you become beneath him. "Come for me, Dolly," he challenges, continuing to pleasure you with his tongue. You feel the knot you'd almost forgotten about forming in your belly, and within a couple of minutes, it explodes. Your whole body jerks, your legs tighten around Mingi's head, and you throw your head back. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, and you feel like rockets are exploding between your legs.
The clink of Mingi's belt buckle snaps you back to reality, and you lift your head. Mingi has taken off his jeans and is standing in front of you in just his boxers. You see the large bulge between his legs and can hardly wait to finally feel him inside you again. Because his cock is just as big as Mingi's ego. Long, thick, and perfect. When he pulls down his boxers and you see his penis, your mouth almost waters. "Mingi, condom!" you remind him conscientiously, and he just rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, okay." He really hasn't changed a bit. He quickly grabs a condom from his wallet and puts it on. Then he positions himself between your legs, his gaze hungrily on your pussy. "Ready for a reunion, babe?" he laughs, his large, strong hands gripping your hips and positioning himself in front of you. Slowly, he slides inside you, and you've completely forgotten how big and thick his cock was. You gasp and grab his shoulders, your fingers digging into his skin. "Mingi, fuck, slow down!" you cry, feeling like you're being split in half. Mingi's gaze shifts away from where his penis disappears inside you, and he presses you down with his body weight. His broad body towers over you and swallows you completely beneath him.
"Oh, you can do this. You're a big girl, aren't you, Dolly?" he pulls you up, withdraws his penis, and thrusts it back in. You exhale and close your eyes. With each thrust, you relax more, your pussy yearning greedily for his penis. With each thrust, your bed slams against the wall, and with each thrust, moans getting louder. "Oh yeah, you feel so good," Mingi moans, his hair falling over his forehead, his eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. Relentlessly, Mingi pounds into you, your thighs now almost touching your stomach, allowing him to slide even deeper inside. "Oh dolly, how I've missed this," Mingi babbles, his breathing quickening. "Mingi," you moan, feeling a second orgasm building. "Fuck MingiâŠaaah," but you can't continue, because your brain has lost the ability to form coherent sentences; all it wants is for Mingi to fuck you until dawn. Mingi thrusts into you like a madman. He supports his body weight on his hands, planted beside your head. Then he sinks down onto his elbows and begins to kiss youâdemandingly, hungrily. You moan into his open mouth.
You close your eyes, preparing for your second orgasm, but Mingi has other plans. He pulls his penis out of you, rolls you effortlessly onto your stomach, lifts your hips, and you land face down on the mattress. Before you can even respond, Mingi is already hammering his penis into you. Doggy style has always been your favorite position. "Just the way you like it," Mingi gasps, his hands digging into your hips. The obscene slapping of his heavy balls fills the room, skin on skin rubbing together, moans alternating and simultaneous. "God, Mingi, it's so good," you gasp, your long hair flying wildly across your face. You struggle on to your hands. Your whole body jerks forward and then back again. You only hear a devilish laugh from Mingi as you suddenly feel his hand wandering from your ass between your thighs. "Oh dolly, scream for me," two of his fingers begin to trace slow circles over your clitoris. You bite your lip; the stimulation from his thick penis inside you and his massive fingertips on your sensitive clit makes you cry out. "Oh dolly, come for me," Mingi begs sweetly, intensifying his thrusts. "Come on my cock, come on, my sweet Dolly," his praise fuels you even more, and the second orgasm washes over you like a tsunami. You scream his name, screw the neighbors, screw everything! Your whole body jerks, your arms give way, and you fall face down again. Mingi keeps your ass up, letting you savor your orgasm, and has to restrain himself from coming because your pussy is clenching hard and tight. As your breathing slows and your body begins to relax, Mingi grabs your hair tightly and pulls you up by the back of your head. "Min-," you cry out, turning your head toward him, but before you can say anything else, Mingi slowly begins thrusting into you again. "It's too much," you howl, and your head falls back against his chest.
Mingi's hand moves to your lower abdomen and he presses down on the spot where the outline of his thick penis is visible. "Aw, come on, Dolly," he purrs, nibbling at your earlobe, "you're a big girl now. You can take my big cock again.â You moan, his penis still deep inside you despite the overwhelming stimulation. "Mingi, please, I can't," you whine, but Mingi doesn't hear you. Instead, his other hand moves to your breasts and he leans closer. "God, they're so big and firm," he moans, gently kneading them. "Dolly, can you come for me again? Please, my pretty, pretty baby dolly," he asks in an angelic voice, tugging at your earlobe. "No, Mingi, it's... it's too much," you cry, but your body is deceiving you and you push your ass into his lower abdomen. "One more time, Dolly, be a good girl, come on. Be a good dolly fâme. Give me one more,â he begs greedily, thrusting harder with each word. Every thrust elicits a moan from you, and you fall back onto your hands. Mingi pounds into you harder and faster, and your third orgasm slowly builds. "Oh yes, Dolly," Mingi moans, throwing his head back. Your poor, delicate body is being used by him, and he has to hold you down. "Mingi, I... I...,â But the rest of the words don't even leave your mouth, because you come a third time, sucking Mingi dry. Your thighs twitch, your pussy throbs, and Mingi comes with you. He thrusts into you uncontrollably and without rhythm. "Oh fuck, y/n," he howls one last time before you fall forward beneath him, and he mounts you from behind.
âââ
The room is silent except for your uneven breathing.
You lie flat on your back beside Mingi, both of you staring at the ceiling like youâre trying to process what just happened. The sheets are tangled around your legs, the air warm and heavy, and your entire body still hums from him. From the way he touched you. Kissed you. Like five years had never happened.
And thatâs the problem.
Because it had happened.
He left.
He broke your heart so badly you had sworn to yourselfâthrough tears, through lonely nights, through raising your daughters aloneâthat you would never let him this close again.
And yet here you are.
In your bed.
Bare skin against bare skin.
Still trying to catch your breath after sex that felt so devastatingly familiar it almost hurts.
Your eyes squeeze shut for a second.
God.
Why is it always like this with him?
Why does your body still fit his so perfectly?
Beside you, Mingi drags a hand over his face, exhaling quietly. He looks just as wrecked as you feel. His chest rises and falls heavily, muscles tense despite the obvious exhaustion settling into him.
You clear your throat awkwardly and finally glance over at him.
âThat wasâŠâ you start, then immediately lose the rest of the sentence.
Mingi lets out a breathy laugh, still staring upward. âYeah. That wasâŠâ
Neither of you knows how to finish it.
Because there arenât really words for whatever the hell that just was.
A beat of silence passes. Then reality crashes back in.
âWe cannot do that again,â you blurt out quickly, almost too quickly.
Mingi nods immediately. Too immediately.
âRight,â he agrees, voice rough. âAbsolutely not.â
âIt was a mistake.â
âDefinitely.â
âAn exception.â
âYeah.â He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. âIt just⊠happened.â
âExactly.â
Another silence. Painfully awkward.
You both nod like youâre in some serious business meeting instead of completely naked in bed together.
âAnd nobody can know,â you add firmly. âEspecially Sia and Nari.â
At the mention of the girls, Mingi finally turns his head toward you. His expression softens instantly, warmth flickering in his eyes before he forces himself back into seriousness.
âThey wonât,â he says quietly. âThis stays between us.â
You nod.
âOne time,â you mumble.
âOne time,â he agrees. Never again.
That should make you feel better. Instead, your gaze betrays you. It drifts downward before you can stop itâover his broad chest, the faint flush still spread across his skin, the strong lines of his arms, the messy dark hair falling into his eyes, and thenâ His lips.
Your stomach flips.
Jesus Christ.
Itâs been so long since anyone made you feel like that. Since anyone touched you like you mattered. Like they knew your body better than you did yourself.
You quickly look away. Unfortunately, Mingi seems to be having the exact same problem.
You can practically feel his eyes moving over you nervously before he abruptly looks at the ceiling again like it personally offended him. The silence stretches.
âWe could maybeâŠâ you start carefully.
Then immediately stop.
Mingi turns his head. âWhat?â
âNothing.â You wave him off fast. âForget it.â
You try to ignore the thought screaming in your head.
Because this is stupid.
A horrible idea. Catastrophically dumb.
But alsoâ
In the last five years, your sex life has been practically nonexistent, and beside you lies Mingi, looking unfairly attractive while still trying to recover from ruining your entire nervous system.
One more time, you think.
Then itâs really over.
You turn toward him before your common sense can stop you.
Mingiâs eyes instantly drop to your lips.
Then back to your eyes.
Thereâs a long pause.
ââŠOkay,â he says slowly, like he already knows this is the worst decision either of you could make. âOne more round. Then weâre done.â
A laugh escapes you before you can help it.
âDone,â you repeat weakly.
âCompletely done.â
âAbsolutely.â
Neither of you believes that for even a second.
You barely have time to smile before Mingi suddenly leans in and kisses you again.
And just like that, all your good intentions disappear.
His hands slide to your waist, large and warm, pulling you effortlessly onto him as your heartbeat stumbles wildly in your chest.
Yeah.
This is definitely a mistake.
âž»
The aquarium is a terrible idea.
You realize that approximately five seconds after walking in.
Itâs dimly lit, the air slightly humid, everything echoing softly â and somehow every single space feels too small. Too close. Too intimate.Especially with him there.You keep your eyes glued to the floor, or the tanks, or literally anything that is not Mingi. The glowing blue water, the slow drifting jellyfish, the flickering reflections dancing across the walls â all of it is suddenly fascinating.
Anything to avoid looking at him.
Anything to avoid remembering.
Because your brain, traitor that it is, keeps replaying flashes from that night like itâs got nothing better to do. You clear your throat and crouch down next to Sia, pointing at a tank. âLook, sweetheart, a shark.â
âBaby shark?â Sia asks immediately.
âYes,â you say quickly. âExactly. Baby shark. Focus on the shark.â
Across from you, you can feel him. You donât even need to look. You just know where he is, like your body has developed some kind of hyper-awareness it absolutely did not have a week ago.
âCareful,â Mingi says suddenly, stepping closer to guide Nari away from the glass. His hand brushes yours in the process.
Itâs barely a second.
But itâs enough.
You both freeze.
Your breath catches. His shoulders tense.
And then, just as quickly, you both pull back like youâve been burned.
âSorry,â he mutters.
âYeah. Same,â you say, way too fast.
Silence drops between you again, thick and awkward and loud despite the soft hum of the aquarium around you. Even the kids notice. Nari looks up at both of you, squinting suspiciously. âWhy are you being weird?â
âWeâre not being weird,â you say immediately.
âYou are,â Sia adds, nodding like a tiny, judgmental expert. âYouâre doing the face.â
âWhat face?â Mingi asks, already regretting engaging.
âThe face where you donât look at each other,â Nari explains very seriously.
You force a smile that probably looks more like a grimace. âWeâre just⊠tired.â
âMhm,â Sia hums, unconvinced. You and Mingi share a glance. A real one this time.
It lasts half a second too long.
And suddenly, itâs all there again â the heat, the closeness, the way everything spiraled out of control so fast you never even had the chance to stop it. You snap your gaze away like youâve touched something dangerous.
âLetâs keep moving,â you mumble.
âYeah,â Mingi agrees quickly. âMoving is good.â
Walking is worse. Because now youâre side by side. Close enough that your arms brush occasionally, sending tiny, ridiculous shocks through your system every single time.
Close enough that your brain keeps whispering, remember?
You hate your brain.
You really hate your brain.
By the time you reach the penguin enclosure, you are seconds away from losing your mind. The space is even tighter here, crowded with families, the glass fogged slightly from the temperature difference. The penguins waddle around clumsily, diving into the water and popping back up like tiny, chaotic torpedoes.
âLOOK!â Nari squeals, pressing her hands against the glass. âBABY PENGUINS!â
Sia gasps dramatically. âTheyâre so small!â
You latch onto that instantly. Safe topic. Safe, harmless, completely non-threatening topic.
âYes,â you say, crouching down beside them. âTheyâre called chicks.â
âCan we have one?â Nari asks.
âNo,â you and Mingi say at the exact same time. You both pause.
âOkay, but,â Sia continues, completely unfazed, âcan we have a baby brother then?â
Everything stops.
Everything.
The air. The sound. Your heartbeat.
You feel Mingi go completely still next to you. You do not look at him.
You refuse.
âThatâs⊠not how that works,â you say, your voice somehow both too tight and too thin at the same time.
âWhy not?â Nari asks, tilting her head.
âYeah,â Sia adds, âhow do you even make a baby?â
You choke.
Actually choke.
Mingi makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like he just inhaled his own soul.
âOh my god,â you whisper under your breath.
The kids are staring at you expectantly.
Mingi is very deliberately looking anywhere but you. The universe is laughing.
âBabies,â you start, your brain scrambling for literally any safe explanation, âuh⊠happen whenââ
âWhen people really, really like each other,â Mingi cuts in quickly.
You whip your head toward him. He still isnât looking at you.
âYou mean like you two?â Nari asks innocently.
Silence.
Dead. Absolute. Silence.
You can feel the heat rising in your face at a speed that should be scientifically studied. Mingi finally risks a glance at you.
Big mistake. Because the second your eyes meet, it hits again â that stupid, vivid, undeniable memory of exactly how much you didnât hate each other a few nights ago.
You both look away immediately.
âNotââ you start.
âNot like that,â Mingi finishes at the same time. You both stop. Again.
The kids are now fully invested.
Sia narrows her eyes. âYouâre doing the face again.â
âWeâre not doing a face,â you insist.
âYou are,â Nari says. âItâs a weird face.â
Mingi lets out a quiet, defeated exhale. âOkay. New topic.â
âAgreed,â you say instantly.
âPenguins,â he says.
âPenguins are great,â you echo.
âVery⊠non-complicated,â he adds.
âExtremely,â you nod.
Another pause.
Another glance. Another flash of memory you really donât need right now. This is a disaster. A slow, awkward, ridiculously charged disaster.
And somehow⊠itâs only making everything worse that neither of you can stop thinking about how not nothing that night actually was.
The drive home is quiet. Not peaceful quiet. Not comfortable quiet. The kind that presses in on you. Sia falls asleep first, her head tipping against the window, soft breaths fogging the glass. Nari follows minutes later, curled up in her seat, clutching her little penguin plush like itâs the most important thing in the world.
You glance at them in the rearview mirror.
Then, against your better judgment, at him. Mingi is already looking at you. You both look away instantly.
Your heart does something stupid.
By the time you pull up in front of the house, the silence has stretched so thin it feels like it might snap.
âIâll get them,â he says quietly.
You nod, because if you speak, something might slip out that you canât take back.
You watch him walk around the car, open the back door, and carefully unbuckle Sia first. Heâs gentle. So careful it almost hurts to watch. She stirs just enough to mumble something incoherent, arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as he lifts her. He adjusts her weight like itâs second nature, pressing a soft kiss to her hair. Your chest tightens. Then he goes back for Nari, who barely wakes at all, her face buried against his shoulder as he carries both of themâone in each armâlike itâs nothing.
And something inside you just⊠melts.
Itâs dangerous.
Thatâs what it is.
Because thisâthis version of himâis the one you tried so hard to ignore.
The one that makes everything complicated.
You follow him inside quietly, closing the door behind you, watching as he moves through the dim hallway toward their room.
The soft glow of the nightlight flickers on as he nudges the door open with his foot.
You hover in the doorway while he lays them down, one after the other, pulling the blankets over them, tucking them in with a care that feels almost sacred.
For a moment, everything is still.
Peaceful.
Safe.
And then he straightens, turning toward you.
And just like thatâ Itâs back.
That tension.
That awareness.
That pull.
You step back automatically as he walks past you into the hallway, closing the door gently behind him.
Now itâs just the two of you. Alone.
The silence is immediate. You can hear your own heartbeat in your ears.
Mingi runs a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly, like heâs trying to steady himself.
You should say something.
You need to say something.
âWe should talk,â you blurt out, the words tumbling over each other before you can second-guess them. You swallow, forcing yourself to keep going. âAbout⊠the other night. I think weââ
You donât get to finish.
Because in the next second, heâs moving.
Fast.
One step, twoâand suddenly his hand is on your arm, pulling you toward him with a force that steals the breath right out of your lungs. And then his mouth is on yours.
Hot.
Immediate.
Wet.
Like heâs been holding back for hoursâdaysâyears. For half a heartbeat, your brain goes blank. This is a bad idea, again.
This is exactly what you said you wouldnât do again.
This isâ
You kiss him back. Just as hard. Just as desperate. His tongue enters your mouth. Because the truth is, you havenât stopped thinking about it either.
Not for a second.
Your hands fist into his shirt, pulling him closer instead of pushing him away, your body already remembering the shape of his, the heat of him, the way everything spiraled out of control last time. A quiet, frustrated sound leaves him, like heâs just as lost in it as you are. Maybe more.
Your back hits the wall, but you barely notice. All you can focus on is him.
The way his hands tighten around your ass, hesitate for the briefest secondâlike heâs giving you a chance to stop this.
You donât. You donât even try.
Because the memories of that night are still burning under your skin, impossible to ignore, impossible to forget.
And right now?
You donât want to.
Not even a little.
This is a mistake. You know it.
But as you pull him closer, deepening the kiss, one thought cuts through all the chaos, clear and dangerous and completely, utterly convincingâ
Just one more time.
One last time.
And then youâll stop.
You swear it.
ââ-
Your hands glide over his massive thighs, your fingernails leaving faint marks on his skin while his cock is buried deep in your mouth. "Fuck, Y/N," Mingi groans hoarsely, throwing his head back, "this feels so good." You bring up a hand to wrap around his thick, hard shaftâthe part you can no longer fit inside your mouth. Your head bobs up and down, and a mixture of saliva and cum trickles from the corner of your lips. "Fuuuck, dolly," Mingi gasps obscenely, grabbing your ponytail as his hips involuntarily thrust deeper into your mouth. You want to keep sucking, but Mingi slides his hands under your armpits and hoists you up. You protest, but against his strength, you stand no chance. He pulls you into a heated, deep kissâa mix of saliva, pre cum, and wetness swirling inside your mouths. "I want to ride you, Mingi," you whisper hoarsely, slowly pushing him back onto the mound of pillows. Mingi keeps his hands on your hips as you position yourself, slowly guiding his cock into your wet pussy. You throw your head back and let out a loud moan. Mingi feels like his cock is on the verge of explodingâyour blowjob was just that goodâand he struggles to hold back, trying not to come right away.
"Slow down, Dolly," he groans as you immediately start riding him as if he were a wild bull. "Oh, Mingi, come on," you tease, purring, "hold out just a little longer." You push yourself up again, then sink back down onto him. "Or are you starting to feel your age?" A husky, devilish laugh escapes you, and you continue riding him eagerly. Again and again, you push yourself up only to let yourself drop back down, driving his cock deeper inside you. Mingi thrusts his hips upward, and you let out a moan as he hits your G-spot. "Fuck," you pant, raking your fingernails across his nipples. Mingi whimpers, but his thrusts grow harder; gripping your hips tightly with his handsâfeet planted and abs tensedâhe hammers faster and harder into you. "Mingi... ah... oh God," you pant, but he isn't listening anymore; his sole mission is to bring you to the brink with him. "Dolly, touch yourselfâcome on," he grits out through clenched teeth, pressing you down even deeper onto his cock. Obediently, you follow his instructionâbut not before slipping your index and middle fingers into his mouth. Mingi sucks greedily on your fingers, wetting your fingertips, which immediately find their way to your clit. You circle your fingers slowly, feeling your body react instantly as your hips jerk forward against them. You want moreâyou need more. "Mingi, I need more," you moan, leaning forward slightly so your breasts brush against his chest, bracing yourself with one hand on his shoulder. "Give me more, pretty boy," you plead. "Be a good boy and give me more," you demand, your voice growing sterner. "Don't come without me." Mingi whimpers; he can barely hold back any longerâthe pleasure is too intense, his balls are too full, and his cock is throbbing. One of his hands releases your hip and slowly wanders over your ass. "Y/n, I can't take it anymore," he gasps, pausing briefly. "Oh, come onâbe good, big guy. Be a good, pretty, big boy... for me." Mingi breathes heavily; he summons his last reserves of willpower, quickly moistens his fingertips, and slowly finds his way to your other hole. Carefully, he circles around it; you react instantlyâyour pussy clenches and throbs, refusing to let go of Mingi's cock.
"Just like that," you gasp, arching your back even further. You press hot kisses against his chin. "My good, gooood boy," you praise Mingiâwords that only spur him on even more. He pushes his finger deeper inside you and begins thrusting into you once again. He closes his eyes, finding his rhythm, his finger buried deep in your ass. You let out an obscene moan; and even though Mingi is often the dominant one of the two of you in bed, you know exactly how to wrap him around your little finger and make him whimper like a little puppy. "Oh, keep goingâcome on, pretty boy," you purr into his ear. "Come with me... give it to me harder... be obedient," you continue to lull him with your words. Mingiâs thrusts grow harder, more faster; for one last moment, you manage to compose yourself and whisper into his ear: "Mommy needs it harder... give it to her harder... be good, babyboy" you babbleâbut you get no further, he is fucking you you so hard and deep, so your orgasm sweeps you away just as Mingiâs does him. Completely uncontrolled and without rhythm, Mingi hammers into you. You moan in unison, throwing your head back, your spine still arched. Mingiâs cock pumps deep and hard inside you one final time; you convulse, gasp aloud, and stars explode behind your closed eyes. Silence envelops the room; nothing can be heard but your heavy, labored breathing. Your forehead rests against Mingiâs chest, his penis still buried inside your throbbing pussy. Mingiâs breathing is rapid and ragged. As you both come down from the high, you lift your head; Mingi lies motionless beneath you. You brush a stray lock of hair from his face, and a smirk spreads across your lips. "What a good boy," you coo, giving him a very lightâalmost affectionateâtap on the cheek. Mingi gives a mocking gasp, but has no energy to fight back.
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Summary: Five years ago, Mingi had to make a choiceâbetween you and his career. Back then, he chose his career, which soared rapidly afterward. Famous, beloved, celebrated all over the world. You, on the other hand, were left behindâalone, broken, and hurt. And as fate would have it, you meet again, and things take an unexpected turnâŠ
a/n: Hey guys, Iâm back again and the story continues! Iâve probably revised this chapter a hundred times! Itâs slowly starting to go in the right direction, and Iâm excited to hear your feedback! A few more chapters are coming, and I might already be working on something new, but Iâm not sure yet whether I should publish it!
Thank you for all your love!!
Chapter 5
A few weeks later, itâs your birthdayâand even though you have absolutely no desire to go out with Mina, she manages to convince you anyway. The twins are staying over at your motherâs place again, and tonight is just for you and Mina. Good food, delicious cocktailsâa proper girlsâ night.
Mina has also forced you into wearing your tightest, shortest dress, paired with matching high heels. As you step into the elegant restaurant, a waiter greets you and leads you to your table. Itâs set for four people.
Frowning, you turn to Mina. âIs someone else coming?â you ask as you sit down.
She waves it off casually, giving you a vague answer. âMaybe one or two.â
You take the menu from the waiter with a polite nod, but your eyes snap right back to Mina. Your brows knit together. âWhat do you mean, âone or twoâ?â you whisper sharply, glancing around.
Mina ignores you completely and orders champagne first. Then she turns back to you, all bright and cheerful, and drops it like itâs nothing.
âI asked Mingi if he wanted to come. Ohâand heâs bringing Yunho!â She practically swoons. âHave you seen him? He looks absolutely edible. Totally my type!â
Your jaw nearly hits the floor. âAre you out of your fucking mind?!â you hiss at her. âI thought you hated Mingiâand all of Ateez! Like, forever! And now youâre inviting those two idiots to my birthday?!â
The waiter returns, pouring the champagne. Mina thanks him sweetly; you barely nod, your eyes locked on her again the second he leaves.
She takes a sip, smacks her lips in satisfaction, and leans back, completely at ease. âRelax, sweetheart. First of all, Iâve changed my opinion about Mingi. Heâs a fine man.â Your eyes widen. âA fine man?â you repeat, incredulous.
But Mina just keeps going, unfazed. âSecond, itâs been a while for meâand a celebrated, 6ft.1 K-pop idol is a very welcome distraction.â
You stare at her, speechless.
âAnd thirdââshe delivers this completely deadpanââsomeone has to pay for all this expensive food.â
You want to disappear. Or scream. Or both.
âSo let me get this straight,â you say slowly, disbelief dripping from every word. âYou invited my exââ
âAnd the father of your children,â she cuts in helpfully.
ââwhom I am trying to keep my distance from,â you snap back.
âWhom you kissed,â she counters instantly.
You freeze for a second.
ââŠtogether with his best friend,â you continue, âbecause you need a distraction for the night?â
Mina beams at you, practically glowing with pride.
âAm I not a genius?â she asks with a triumphant grin.
You just shake your head, grab your glass, and take a long, desperate sip of champagne. This was supposed to be a quiet night on the couch.
A little while later, you donât even notice them at firstâbut Mina does.
Her whole posture shifts.
âOh. My. God,â she mutters under her breath, eyes locked somewhere behind you.
You donât even need to turn around to know.
Theyâre here.
Mina doesnât bother being subtle for even a second. Her gaze dragsâslowly, unapologeticallyâover Yunho from head to toe, her lips parting slightly before she bites down on the lower one.
âJesus ChristâŠâ she murmurs, clearly impressed. âYou did not tell me he looked like that.â
You tilt your head back, staring up at the ceiling like it might just open up and swallow you whole.
âPlease just kill me now,â you mumble under your breath.
But to your absolute disbelief, Yunho doesnât seem any less interested. His eyes land on Mina almost instantly, a grin tugging at his lips as he gives her a once-over just as bold.
Oh great. Perfect. Exactly what this night needed.
Before you can spiral any further, you suddenly feel a warm hand settle gently against your back. You tense for a split secondâthen a beautiful bouquet appears in front of you.
Your breath catches.
Slowly, you turn your headâand there he is.
Mingi.
His expression is different this time. Softer. Peaceful. Warm in a way that hits you completely off guard. For a second, you just stare at him. Then you take the bouquet, a little flustered. âThank youâŠâ you say quietly. He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. âHappy birthday,â he murmurs, his voice low. âI still remember lilies are your favorite.â
You press your lips together, tryingâfailingâto suppress the smile spreading across your face. Itâs useless. You end up beaming at him anyway.
âThank you, MingiâŠâ
You donât notice the way his eyes linger on you a second longer than necessary.
Ever the gentlemen, the guys pull out your chairs. You and Mina sit, and soon enough drinks and food are ordered.
Mina raises her glass, turning toward you with a bright grin. âTo my bestâand hottestâfriend for all eternity.â
You snort softly, amused, and clink your glass against hers. âMina, stop it.â
She takes a sip, then casually drops, âYou should start modeling again.â
You click your tongue, cheeks slightly flushed from the champagne, and shake your head. âNot an option. That ship has sailed.â
âI agree with Mina,â Mingi says, completely serious.
You glance at him, surprised.
âYou had some really great deals at the beginning of your âcareer,ââ he continues. âThatâs how we met, remember? Through that talent management thing.â
Your expression softens a little despite yourself. The memory pulls you back.Thatâs where it all started.
You met Mingi. You met Yunho.
âDo you guys remember that disgusting janitor?â you ask suddenly, grimacing.
Yunho immediately nods. âOh, hell yeah. That guy couldâve walked straight out of a horror movie.â
Mingi laughs. âHe only had eyes for you, though.â
You gag dramatically in response.
Mina takes a sip of her drink, then says dryly, âEveryone always only had eyes for you.â
You pull your lips into a small pout, glancing away, a bit embarrassed.
But Mina isnât done.
âWith a face like yours and a body personally sculpted by God?â she continues, completely unfiltered. âItâs no wonder Mingi is still following you around like a lovesick puppy.â
On any other day, you might have strangled her. But now, slightly tipsy, you just laugh, shaking your head.
Mingi, however, immediately cuts in. âI am not following her around like a puppy!â
Yunho lets out a laugh and makes an exaggerated, theatrical gestureâclutching his chest, then pointing at Mingi before miming someone pathetically trailing after another person with tiny, dramatic steps.
The table bursts into laughter.
And while youâre distracted, smiling and glowing in a way you donât even realizeâ
Mingi is watching you.
Mina leans back in her chair like she owns the entire room, one leg crossing elegantly over the other as she swirls her drink, eyes glinting with mischief.
âSo,â she begins, dragging the word out as she looks between Mingi and Yunho, âtell me everything.â
Yunho raises an eyebrow, amused already. âThatâs⊠very unspecific.â
Mina smirks. âOther idols. Scandals. Secrets. Whoâs actually worth the hypeâand who just looks like it.â
You close your eyes briefly. âOh noâŠâ
Mingi lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head. âYouâre dangerous.â
âIâve been called worse,â she shoots back instantly. âNow come on, donât be boring. I work in PRâI can smell a media-trained answer from a mile away.â
Yunho leans forward slightly, clearly entertained. âAnd what do we get in return?â
Mina tilts her head, consideringâthen smiles slowly. âFine. Iâll trade.â
That gets their attention immediately.
âOh?â Mingi says, intrigued.
Mina takes a slow sip, deliberately building suspense. âI once dated a K-pop idol.â
You nearly choke on your drink. âMina, donâtââ
âAnd,â she continues smoothly, completely ignoring you, âhe was an absolute disaster in bed. Big package, like the biggest balls Iâve ever seen, but his dick ⊠small.
The table goes silent for half a second.
âNo way,â Yunho blurts out, eyes wide.
âWho?â Mingi adds immediately, leaning in.
Mina just smiles sweetly and says nothing.
âOh come on,â Yunho groans. âYou canât just drop that and not tell us who it was!â
She taps her glass lightly with her nail. âPR agency,â she sing-songs. âClient confidentiality. I take my job very seriously.â
âThat is evil,â Mingi mutters.
âI prefer âprofessional,ââ she corrects.
Youâre laughing quietly into your drink at this point, watching the two of them lean in like gossip-starved teenagers.
âBut wait,â Yunho says, narrowing his eyes slightly, âyou said dated. What happened?â
Mina lets out a dramatic sigh, placing a hand over her chest. âOh, besides his small dick, he wanted a baby.â
You close your eyes.
âLikeâimmediately,â she continues, dead serious. âMan was ready to name our future children on the second date.â
Mingi nearly spits out his drink. âYouâre kidding.â
âI wish,â she says dryly. âThat was the exact moment I finished my wine, stood up, and emotionally exited the relationship.â
Yunho is howling. âThatâs insane!â
âI donât do âletâs build a familyâ before dessert, especially with such a small weener,â Mina adds, completely unfazed.
Mingi shakes his head, laughing. âYouâre unbelievable.â
âIâve heard that too.â
Thereâs something in the way they look at her nowâequal parts impressed and wildly entertained.
And Mina? She thrives on it.
She leans forward again, pointing her glass lazily between them. âHonestly, thoughâmost of the really good-looking ones? They always have something weird going on.â
Mingi and Yunho freeze.
âExcuse me?â Yunho says slowly.
Mina just nods, completely serious. âItâs a pattern.â
Mingi scoffs. âThatâs notââ
She points directly at him.
âYou,â she says bluntly, âbig dick, but you have commitment issues.â
You immediately choke on your drink, coughing as you turn away, laughter bubbling up despite yourself.
Mingi blinks. âIâwhat?â
Mina doesnât even flinch. She just shifts her gaze to Yunho, narrowing her eyes slightly like sheâs analyzing him.
âAnd youâŠâ she hums. âYou definitely have something. I just havenât figured out what yet. But thereâs no way youâre normal.â
You lose it.
Actually lose itâlaughing openly now, tears threatening as you cover your mouth.
Yunho places a hand on his chest, deeply offended. âI am perfectly normal!â
Mina raises an eyebrow. âYouâre a 6ft1 K-pop idol with that face. You are not normal.â
ââŠfair,â he mutters.
Mingi shakes his head, still laughing, but clearly not willing to let that stand. âOkay, hold on. We also have advantages.â
âOh?â Mina leans back, intrigued again. âThis should be good.â
âWeâre successful,â Mingi starts, counting on his fingers.
âDriven,â Yunho adds.
âDisciplined.â
âHardworking.â
âCharming,â Yunho throws in with a grin and his eyes wander down between his legs.
Mina watches them like sheâs at a live performance, thoroughly entertained.
You just sit there, shaking your head, smiling into your glass, letting the chaos unfold.
Mina taps her chin thoughtfully, pretending to consider. âHmm. That does sound nice.â
Mingi leans forward slightly. âSee?â
She smiles slowly.
âBut youâre still on thin ice,â she says sweetly.
Yunho laughs. âI like her.â
âOf course you do,â you mumble under your breath.
And across the tableâ
Mingiâs gaze drifts back to you again.
Like it always does.
Absolutely charmed by Minaâs honest and open personality, Yunho wants to learn more about her. You only grimace and tell him not to, because you know Mina has absolutely zero filter. Mina swirls her drink again, clearly not done with tonightâs entertainmentâand very much aware she has a captive audience.
âYou know what,â she says suddenly, leaning forward with a wicked little smile, âsince weâre already exposing peopleâŠâ
You immediately narrow your eyes. âMinaââ
âNo, no,â she waves you off. âThis one is too good.â
Yunho perks up instantly. âOh, Iâm listening.â
Mingi leans back, already grinning. She places her glass down dramatically. âSo. I once fucked a guyâŠ,â
You groan softly, dragging a hand over your face. âHere we goâŠâ
âHe had a thing,â she continues, completely unfazed, âwhere he would make⊠animal noises.â
Thereâs a beat of silence.
ââŠIâm sorryâwhat?â Yunho chokes.
Mingi blinks. âNo.â
âYes,â Mina nods, dead serious. âFull commitment. Method acting. At one point I genuinely thought I was in a nature documentary.â
Yunho is wheezing. âNOâwhat kind of noises?!â
Mina doesnât even hesitate. She lowers her voice slightly and, with perfect confidence, lets out a questionable, low growlâfollowed by something that vaguely resembles a howl.
Thatâs it. The table erupts.
Mingi doubles over, laughing, one hand coming up to cover his face. âI canâtâ I canât do thisââ
âI wish I was joking,â Mina says, completely composed, taking another sip of her drink. âI tried to ignore it at first, you know, be supportive, culturally openââ
Youâre laughing so hard you can barely breathe.
ââbut then he started switching animals mid-performance,â she continues, shaking her head. âThatâs when I knew. This is not my journey.â
Yunho is gone. âSwitchingâ? Like a playlist?!â
âExactly like a playlist.â
You wipe at your eyes, still laughing, your whole body warm and light.
And you donât even noticeâ
Not reallyâ
How Mingi shifts beside you. How his arm stretches along the back of your chair, settling there casually, loosely behind you.
Close. Comfortable. Like it belongs there.
His laughter fades a little as he looks at youâreally looks at you again, still smiling, still glowing from laughter.
God⊠he missed this.
Across from you, Mina watches the two of you for a moment. And something in her expression softens.
âApart from that,â she says suddenly, almost thoughtfully, âyou two should really have more babies.â
You freeze mid-laugh.
ââŠIâm sorry?â you say slowly.
Mina shrugs lightly. âI donât even like children. At all. Theyâre loud, sticky, and deeply inconvenient.â
âCharming,â Yunho chuckles.
âBut,â she continues, pointing between you and Mingi, âthe two of you? You make ridiculously cute ones. Itâs actually offensive.â
You let out a long, tired sigh, leaning back in your seat. âMinaâŠâ
An eye roll is all you manage in response.
Mingi, on the other hand? He looks way too amused. A quiet laugh escapes him as he glances at you, then back at Mina. âI mean⊠she does have a point.â
You turn your head so fast you almost get whiplash. âDonât you dare.â
Yunho immediately jumps in, grinning. âHonestly, you two could single-handedly fix South Koreaâs birth rate.â
You drop your head into your hands. âI hate all of you.â
âThatâs not denial,â Mina sing-songs.
Mingi chuckles beside you, his arm still resting behind you, his presence warm, steady, entirely too close.
And while they keep jokingâ
Keep laughingâ
His gaze drifts back to you again.
Soft. Lingering.
Like maybeâ
Just maybeâ
He wouldnât mind that idea at all.
Dinner eventually winds downâplates empty, glasses not so muchâand somehow the four of you end up agreeing to get another drink. Which, in theory, is easy.
In reality? Not so muchâconsidering youâre with two very recognizable K-pop idols.
âHat down. Lower,â you mutter, tugging slightly at Mingiâs cap as you all step out into the cold night air.
âI am wearing it low,â he protests quietly.
âLower.â
He huffsâbut listens.
Yunho, meanwhile, is completely useless, too busy leaning close to Mina, whoâs practically glued to his side.
âI swear,â you mumble, watching them, âtheyâre going to forget we exist.â
âThey already have,â Mingi says dryly.
You snort softlyâthen immediately regret stepping outside without a thicker jacket.
âGod, itâs freezing,â you mutter, rubbing your arms. You try to play it off at first, shoulders tensing slightly, your posture stiff as Mingi walks beside youâclose.
Too close.
But then another cold gust hits you, and you visibly shiver. He notices immediately.
Without making a big deal out of it, he moves closerâhis arm slipping around your shoulders, pulling you gently against his side. You stiffen for half a second.
Then⊠you relax. Just a little.
Itâs warm. Annoyingly warm.
You let out a quiet breath, and before you can overthink it, you lean into him just enough to steal some of that warmth.
Neither of you comments on it.
Ahead of you, Mina laughs loudly at something Yunho says, grabbing his arm, the two of them completely in their own world.
Mingi glances at them, then back at you. âWe should probably be concerned.â
âWe really should,â you murmur.
Neither of you does anything about it.
The bar you end up in is small, dimly lit, and tucked away enough to feel safe from curious eyes. You slide into a cozy corner booth, Mina immediately claiming the inside seatâand Yunho right next to her, of course.
Mingi sits beside you. Drinks are ordered.
You actually try to refuse at first. âIâm good. Really.â
Mina narrows her eyes at you, already halfway through her glass. âWhat, youâre not drinking because you might kiss Mingi again?â
You choke. âMinaââ
On any other night, that comment wouldâve been your villain origin story.
But right now? You feel good. Light. Warm. Surrounded by your favorite people.
So instead, you just shrugâcompletely unfazedâand lift your glass.
âMaybe I am,â you say casually⊠and then wink at Mingi.
Mingi freezes for a split second.
You actually watch the moment it hits himâhis brain short-circuitingâbefore he forces himself to stay composed, clearing his throat and taking a sip of his drink.
Yunho bursts out laughing. âOh, heâs gone.â
âI am not gone,â Mingi mutters.
âHeâs very gone,â Mina confirms, delighted.
You just grin into your glass.
At some point, the conversation shiftsâlike it always does when alcohol is involved.
âTo be fair,â Yunho says, leaning back, âthis isnât even our worst night together.â
You raise an eyebrow. âOh no. Donât.â
âOh yes,â he grins. âRemember that time the three of us went drinking and everything justâcompletely fell apart?â
Mingi groans softly. âWe donât need toââ
âYou lost your shoes,â Yunho continues, pointing at you.
You gasp. âThey were uncomfortable!â
âYou threw them,â he corrects.
âI did notââ
âYou absolutely did,â Mingi cuts in, laughing. âAnd then refused to walk.â
You cross your arms. âMy feet hurt so bad.â
âYeah,â Yunho snorts. âSo Mingi had to carry you home.â
Minaâs eyes light up. âHe carried you?â
âAgainst my will,â you insist.
âYou literally climbed onto my back,â Mingi says.
âThatâs not the point.â
âAnd I tripped,â Yunho adds proudly.
âYou didnât just trip,â Mingi says. âYou fell face-first.â
âAnd chipped half a tooth!â Yunho finishes, way too pleased with himself.
Mina is losing it. âI love this story.â
âOr,â you say quickly, trying to redirect, âwhat about that time we tried to prank Hongjoong?â Yunho perks up immediately. âOh my god.â
Mingi already looks tired. âNoâŠâ
âWe went to his place,â you continue, grinning now, âbut he wasnât homeââ
âSo we improvised,â Yunho says.
Mina leans forward. âIâm scared.â
âYou should be,â you nod. âWe found his brother instead.â
Minaâs hand flies to her mouth. âNo.â
âYes,â you and Yunho say in unison.
âWe put a fake snake in his bed,â Yunho adds.
Mina wheezes. âYou did not.â
âHe almost had a heart attack,â you say, half-laughing, half-horrified even now.
Mingi rubs his face. âWe were banned from that apartment for weeks.â
âWorth it,â Yunho says.
âNot worth it,â Mingi corrects.
Yunho suddenly leans forward again, clearly about to say something else, grin turning dangerous.
âAnd letâs not forget that one night where the three of us almostââ
You react instantly. Your hand slaps over his mouth.
âDonât you dare,â you say, eyes narrowing at him.
Yunho just mumbles something unintelligible against your palm, laughing. Mingi coughs into his drink.
Minaâs eyes dart between all of you, absolutely thrilled. âOh my god. OH my god. What happened?â
âNothing,â you say firmly.
âSomething,â Yunho insists from behind your hand.
âYou had a threesome?!â
You press harder. âSay one more word and I will end you.â
He raises his hands in surrender, still laughing.
You slowly pull your hand awayâbut keep your glare locked on him.
The table dissolves into laughter again.
And somewhere in between the chaos, the drinks, the warmthâ Mingi leans slightly closer to you.
Not enough to interrupt. Not enough to be obvious. But enough that you feel it.
âYouâre having fun,â he murmurs softly.
You glance at himâand for a moment, everything else fades out.
ââŠMaybe,â you admit quietly.
His lips curve into the softest smile.
And againâ You donât notice the way he looks at you.
Like youâre everything.
The cold air hits the moment you step outside the bar, but Mingi barely notices it.
Not when his head is still full of you.
Your laugh.
Your voice.
The way you leaned back, carefree, teasing, glowing in a way he hasnât seen in years.
For a while, he just walks beside you in silence, hands in his pockets, trying to steady himself. Mina and Yunho are already ahead, practically attached to each other, arguing about something that sounds suspiciously like which taxi is âvibing more.â
He barely registers it.
Because youâ You drift closer.
And then you lean into him again. Like itâs natural. Like it used to be.
His breath catches, just for a second, before he carefully slides his arm around you, pulling you in without a word. You donât resist. You just melt into his side, warm despite the cold, and for a few quiet steps, everything feels⊠easy. Dangerously easy.
Too familiar. Too right. Mingi exhales slowly.
Then suddenlyâhe stops.
And gently pulls you back with him.
You stumble a little, turning toward him, confusion flickering across your face as he steadies you against his chest. His hand lingers at your waist. For a moment, he just looks at you. Really looks. God⊠there you are.
Your lips slightly parted, your cheeks flushed from the alcohol and the night, your eyes still bright from laughing.
He hasnât seen you like this in so long.
And it hits him all over again. Hard.
He glances past you brieflyâjust to make sure Mina and Yunho are far enough ahead, too wrapped up in each other to notice.
Then his gaze drops back to you. Soft. Focused.
âIt was nice,â he says quietly, voice lower now, steadier than he feels, âseeing you laugh like that tonight.â
You donât look away. That alone almost ruins him. A faint, crooked smile tugs at his lips. âI was starting to think you forgot how⊠or that you only laugh like that when Iâm not around. Which, honestlyâis kind of rude.â
Thereâs that little smirk on your lips again.
God. Youâre so beautiful. He missed that. Je missed you.
âThank you,â you say softly.
And the way your cheeks warmâwhether from the alcohol or himâdoes something dangerous to his chest. He studies your face, slow, unapologetic, taking in every detail like heâs trying to memorize you all over again.
âI mean it,â he murmurs. âYouâre the most beautiful woman Iâve ever met.â
You laughâof course you doâand shake your head slightly, cheeks deepening in color. âYouâre just saying that because youâre drunk⊠and itâs my birthday.â
He doesnât even hesitate.
âNo.â
The word is firm. Certain.
Your smile falters just a little.
âItâs true,â he continues, softer now. âAnd IâŠâ He exhales quietly, his gaze flickering between your eyes. âI missed that. The way your eyes light up when youâre happy.â
Something shifts in your expression.
You look away. And thatâhe canât allow. Not now. Not when he finally has you like this again.
Gently, he lifts his hand, hooking his finger under your chin and tilting your face back toward him. Your breath catches.
So does his.
His gaze dropsâjust for a secondâto your lips. And he swears he feels his pulse everywhere at once. This is a terrible idea.
You could push him away.
You could slap him.
You probably kill him.
He doesnât care. Not anymore.
Not after tonight. Not after seeing you like this and realizing just how much of you heâs been missing. His voice lowers, almost a whisper.
ââŠAnd nowâmy last birthday gift for you.â
And then he closes the distance. The kiss is soft at first. Careful.
Like heâs giving you every chance to pull away.
But when you donâtâ
Something in him gives in.
His hand tightens slightly at your waist as his lips move against yours, warmer now, deeper, still gentle but no longer hesitant. Itâs not rushed, not messyâjust⊠full.
Full of everything he hasnât said. Full of everything he still feels. You fit against him like you always did. And for a moment, the world justâ Stops.
When he finally pulls back, itâs slow. Reluctant. Your lips are still parted, your expression dazed, like youâre trying to catch up with what just happened.
He doesnât give you time to overthink it.
Instead, he smirksâjust a littleâgrabbing your wrist and tugging you along with him.
âCome on,â he says, voice lighter now, teasing creeping back in. âWe should probably go catch our friends before they accidentally get married in that taxi.â
He glances at you, eyes still warm, still a little too intense.
âAnd you, my hot supermodelâtry to keep up.â
And just like thatâ
He pulls you back into the night.
âââââ
Mingi is coming to your office today. It took you a lot of effort to come to this decision, but the past few months have shown you that Mingi is the best father for your twins that you could ever imagine. And no matter what has happened between you, or what is currently going on between you, in the event of your death, Mingi is to receive full custody and take care of Sia and Nari.
This directive is being drawn up by none other than Mr. Potato Headâyou mean Lee Don-junâand even though you once went on a date with him and he apparently still wants more from you while you donât feel the same, youâre glad that he agreed to handle this paperwork for you.
The moment the door to your office opens, the entire atmosphere shifts.
You donât even have to look up to know itâs him.
Mingi doesnât just enter a room â he arrives.
âHey,â he says, voice warm, low, effortlessly smooth.
You glance up from your deskâand there he is. Tall. Broad shoulders filling the doorway like it was designed too small for him. Dark hair slightly messy, like he didnât bother fixing it⊠or knew he didnât have to.
Your brain, unfortunately, chooses that exact moment to stop functioning normally.
âOhâhey. Youâre early.â
âCouldnât wait,â he replies, stepping in, eyes already on you in that way that feels just a little too intentional.
Before you can process that, a second presence awkwardly clears his throat.
âAhâyes. Good, youâre both here.â
Lee Do-jun enters the room, your colleague, or better known as Mr. Potato Head. Mingi knows immediately who he is; his large head and protruding ears gave him away. How could you go on a date with such a loser?
He stands near the filing cabinet, small and stiff in comparison to Mingi, almost a head smaller, adjusting his glasses nervously. His ears stick out more than usual todayâhow is that even possible?âand his eyes⊠linger. On you. For too long. Mingi notices. And something in his posture changes instantly.
Subtleâbut unmistakable.
He walks over to your desk instead of taking the chair across from it, placing one hand casually on the surface⊠the other briefly brushing against your shoulder as he leans in. âMissed you,â he murmurs, just low enough that it almost feels private. Your breath catches.
ââŠWe saw each other yesterday.â
âStill counts,â he says, flashing you a quick wink.
You blink. Why is he like this today?
Mister Potato Head stiffens.
âYes, well,â he interjects, voice tight. âLetâs remain focused. This is a legal matter.â
Mingi finally turns to look at himâand itâs almost unfair. The contrast alone is enough to make the tension feel ridiculous.
ââŠAnd you are?â Mingi asks, finally turning toward him. Eventough he absolutely knows who this potato head belongs to.
His tone is polite.
But thereâs something underneath it. Sharp. Measuring. The man straightens immediately. âIâm a colleague of y/n,â he says, adjusting his sleeves. âAnd I drafted the agreement for you.â
You nod quickly. âYeah, he handled the paperwork.â Mingi hums softly. His eyes donât leave the manâs face. Thenâslowlyâhis gaze drifts. Back to you.
Then to the way Mister Potato Head is looking at you. Lingering. Again.
Something flickers in Mingiâs expression.
âOh,â he says lightly. âThat explains it.â
You frown slightly. âExplains whatââ
But before you can finish, Mister Potato Head speaks again.
ââŠHow do you two know each other?â
Thereâs a beat. A very small one.
Just long enough for tension to settle into the room like static before a storm. Mingi doesnât look at him. He looks at you. And thenâhis lips curl. Not into a smile. Into something far more dangerous.
âWe were a couple.â
The words land clean. Effortless. But itâs not just what he says. Itâs how he says it. Like itâs obvious. Like it still means something. Likeâif he wanted toâ nothing would be stopping him. Your breath catches.
âMingiââ
You donât even know what you were going to say. Because the look he gives you right then? Itâs calm. Itâs confident. Itâs fucking Mingi. Possessive in a way that makes absolutely no senseâand yetâ
Your stomach flips anyway.
Across from you, Mister Potato Head goes completely still.
âI⊠see,â he says slowly, but he very clearly does not see. His eyes dart between you both, trying to recalculate something that no longer adds up. And Mingi? Mingi finally looks at him again.
Relaxed.
Unbothered.
Like heâs already won something that was never even a fair competition. I mean, come on, look at his fucking giant head! His hand settles lightly against your back again.
Familiar.
Intentional.
And this timeâ
Very much on purpose.
You glance up at him, completely thrown now. ââŠWhat are you doing?â you whisper.
Mingi leans in just slightly, close enough that only you can hear him.
âHandling the situation.â
âI⊠wasnât aware,â Do-jun says, but his voice tightens at the edges. His jaw shifts. âYou never mentioned that.â His gaze flicks to youâsharper now. Accusing, almost. Like you should have told him. Like he had any right to expect that.
Mingi notices. Of course he does. And this time, he doesnât even try to hide it.
âOh?â Mingi says lightly, finally looking at him again. Mister Potato Head lets out a short, humorless breath.
But his eyes donât leave you. And now thereâs something ugly sitting behind them. Jealousy. Thinly veiled. Poorly contained.
âWell,â he adds, straightening his papers a little too aggressively, âsome things are better clarified.â
Mingi tilts his head slightly. Almost amused. âAre they?â he says.
Your pulse is way too fast now. The air feels tight. Charged.
And somehowâ youâre right in the middle of it. The meeting continues, but itâs barely functional. Mister Potato Head stumbles over explanations he clearly prepared. Loses his place. Repeats himself.
Because every time he looks upâ Mingi is closer to you. A hand brushing yours when passing a pen. Fingers lingering just long enough to make it intentional. Leaning in to âreadâ something, his shoulder pressing against yours, his voice dropping just for you.
âYouâre not even focusing anymore,â you whisper under your breath.
âOn him?â Mingi murmurs back, barely suppressing a smile. âWhy would I?â
âThatâs literally why youâre here!â
âMm,â he hums softly. âIâm here for you.â
Your breath hitches. Behind you, thereâs a sharp soundâpaper being set down harder than necessary.
âI think weâre done,â Mister Potato Head says abruptly. Too abruptly. His patience is gone. Whatever composure he had leftâgone with it.
âYou can review the rest privately.â
He gathers his things, movements stiff, irritated, and heads for the door. You and Mingi stand up to thank him.
You think that Mister Potato Head has already left and immediately turn to Mingi to ask him what that strange behavior was about.
But Mister potato head stops. Right at the threshold. And looks back. At you. Again. Still staring at your ass. Like heâs trying to hold onto something that was never his. Thatâs it. Thatâs the moment.
You feel it before you even see itâ the shift in Mingi beside you. Then suddenlyâ his arm wraps around you. Firm. Decisive. Pulling you against him like there was never another option.
âMingiââ
You donât get to finish.
His hand comes up to your jaw, tilting your face toward hisâ and then he kisses you. Not gentle. Not hesitant. Itâs confident. Claiming.
Slow enough to feel intentionalâ deep enough to make your thoughts scatter completely. Your brain blanks.
Your hands donât even know what to do. Youâre justâthere. Overwhelmed. Caught. Completely.
And you miss itâ the way Mingi slightly opens his eyes mid-kiss. Just enough. To look past you. Right at the door. Right at him. Mister Potato Head is still standing there. Frozen. Watching.
And Mingi?
Mingi smirks. Sharp. Victorious. Dangerous.
Thenâwithout breaking the kissâ he gives him a slow, deliberate wink.
A silent message.
Youâve lost.
Sheâs not yours.
Fuck off, Mister Potato Head!
The door shuts. Finally. Only then does Mingi pull backâjust enough to look at you. Like nothing just happened.
Like he didnât just start a war and win it in the same breath. You stare at him. Completely wrecked.
ââŠWhat the fuck was that?â you manage.
Mingiâs thumb brushes lightly over your jaw, like heâs still adjusting you where he wants you.
âProblem solved,â he says calmly.
âThat was not a problemââ
âHe was staring at you,â Mingi cuts in quietly. Your voice falters.
ââŠSo?â
His gaze locks onto yours. Steady. Certain.
And way too intense.
ââââ
The hallway outside your office is quiet.
Mingi leans casually against the wall for a second, rolling his shoulders like heâs shaking off the last remnants of irritation.
But itâs still there. That edge. That something sitting just under his skin.
He exhales once, then turns and heads down the corridorâ straight toward the restroom. The door swings open. And of courseâ of course heâs not alone.
Mister Potato Head stands at the sink, sleeves rolled up, staring at his own reflection like heâs trying to reconstruct whatever dignity he just lost. For a moment, neither of them speaks. The tension is immediate.
Mingi steps up beside him, unbothered, turning on the faucet like this is the most normal interaction in the world. Water runs. Silence stretches. Thenâ
âSo,â Mister Potato Head says, not looking at him. âThat was⊠quite the performance.â
Mingi glances at him in the mirror.
âWas it?â
A scoff. Quiet. Bitter.
âYou donât have to pretend,â he mutters. âIâve seen that kind of thing before.â
Mingi dries his hands, calm, precise.
âAnd what kind is that?â
Mister Potato Head finally turns his head. Thereâs a sharpness in his eyes now. Defensive. Bruised ego trying to bite back.
âThe kind where someone tries a little too hard,â he says. âOvercompensating.â
A pause.
Thenâhe lets his gaze drop and rise again, deliberately sizing Mingi up.
âEspecially when they know theyâre not actually⊠relevant anymore.â
There it is. Fucking petty Potato Head. Mingi doesnât react right away. He just watches him. And thenâ very slowlyâ he smiles. Not friendly. Not amused. Just⊠dangerous.
ââŠYou talk a lot,â Mingi says quietly.
Mister Potato Headâs jaw tightens.
âIâm just being realistic.â
âAre you?â Mingi tilts his head slightly, like heâs considering him for the first time. âBecause from where Iâm standingâŠâ Not only physically superior than Mister Potato Head.
He steps just a fraction closer.
Not enough to be aggressive.
Enough to make it clear he could be.
ââŠyouâre the only one here trying to convince himself of something.â
Silence.
Sharp.
Uncomfortable.
Mister Potato Head exhales through his nose, then straightens slightly, like heâs found better ground to stand on.
âI see her every day,â he says, more firmly now. âAt work. We talk. And sheâs never mentioned you. Not once.â Thereâs a flicker of triumph in his eyes.
Like thisâfinallyâshould land. Mingi doesnât even blink. If anythingâ his expression settles. Becomes quieter. More certain.
âYeah,â he says simply.
Thatâs it. No irritation. No denial. Nothing to grab onto. And somehowâthatâs worse.
ââŠThat doesnât bother you?â Mister Potato Head presses, the edge in his voice creeping back in. Mingi lets out a quiet huffâalmost like a laugh. Then he looks at him fully.And this time? Thereâs no softness left.
âNo,â he says.
Then, calm. Precise. Cutting exactly where it should:
âYouâre rightâshe doesnât talk about me.â
Mister Potato Headâs smirk starts to returnâ Until Mingi continues.
âBut she remembers me.â
The words land heavier than they should.
Thereâs something in the way he says itâ
low, certainâ that makes the air shift.
Mister Potato Headâs expression falters.
ââŠWhat is that supposed to mean?â
Mingi steps past him, grabbing a paper towelâbut pauses right beside him.
Close enough that the difference between them is impossible to ignore.
Then, just slightly leaning in, voice droppingâ not loud. Not crude. Just enough.
âLetâs just say,â he murmurs, âIâm not exactly forgettable.â
Then he straightens, completely composed again.
âAnd you?â he adds lightly, glancing at him in the mirror one last time. A small, almost pitying smile. âDid she ever scream your name?â That one hits.
Hard.
Mister Potato Head goes still. Because he knows. He knows.
Mingi tosses the paper towel, turns, and heads for the doorâ
but stops just before leaving. Without looking back, he adds: âNext time you look at her like thatâŠâ
A pause.
Just enough to let it sink in.
ââŠmake sure Iâm not around.â
Then he walks out. Like it was never even a fucking competition.
âââ
Youâre still trying to gather your thoughts. Which is already difficult enough after⊠that kiss. So when the office door opens again a few minutes later, you look up immediatelyâ and freeze. Mingi walks in.
Whistling. Actually whistling. Hands casually in his pockets, shoulders loose, like he just had the most pleasant, completely uneventful experience of his life.
Behind himâ just for a second, you catch a glimpse of Mister Potato Head.
Red-faced.
Flustered.
Practically speed-walking down the hallway without looking back. Your eyes narrow.
Oh. Mingi, you naughty bastard!
Oh, something definitely happened.
You slowly stand from your chair, crossing your arms.
ââŠWhat did you do?â
Mingi doesnât even miss a beat.
âMe?â he says, glancing at you with the most innocent expression youâve ever seen on a man who is clearly not innocent. âNothing.â
You raise an eyebrow.
âMingi.â
He shrugs lightly, strolling further into the room.
âI washed my hands. Very responsibly.â
âThat is not what I meant.â
âThen you should be more specific.â
You stare at him. He smiles smugly.
And itâs way too satisfied. You take a step closer, lowering your voice.
âHe looked like he just lost a fight.â
Mingi tilts his head slightly, considering that.
ââŠDid he?â
âYes.â
âHuh.â
âMingi.â
This time, your tone lands. He exhales softly through his noseâlike heâs holding back a laughâand finally closes the distance between you. One step. Two. Until heâs right in front of you.
Towering over you.
Close enough that you can feel the warmth of him before he even touches you.
ââŠWhat?â he murmurs.
Your breath catches slightlyâannoying.
âYou did something.â
âI talked to him.â
âThatâs already too much.â
A quiet huff of amusement leaves him.
âRelax,â he says softly.
But he doesnât step back.
If anythingâ he leans in just a fraction more. He bends down toward you, looking at you with amusement.
Now you can feel it properly.
His presence.
Your heart starts doing that stupid thing again.
ââŠYouâre unbelievable,â you mutter.
âYeah,â he says lightly. âYou mentioned.â
âI did not.â
âMhm.â
Your eyes flick up to hisâand immediately regret it. Because now heâs looking at you like that again. Focused. Sharp. Like the room got smaller and youâre the only thing in it.
ââŠYou really should be more careful,â he says quietly.
Your brows knit. âAbout what?â
His gaze flickersâbrieflyâto the door. Then back to you. Lower now. Softer. But somehow more intense.
ââŠWho you let around you.â
Your stomach tightens.
âThatâs not yourââ
ââproblem?â he finishes for you.
A small smile tugs at his lips.
âYeah,â he says. âI know.â
But he doesnât move away. Doesnât give you space to breathe properly. Instead, he leans in just enough that his voice dropsâmeant only for you.
âStill,â he murmurs, âyou could aim a little higher.â
Your heart stutters.
ââŠExcuse me?â
Mingiâs eyes flick over your face, slow, deliberateâlike heâs taking his time with something he already understands.
âYou heard me.â
âThatâs incredibly rude.â
âIs it?â he says softly.
Thereâs no bite in it. No real insult. Just⊠certainty. And thenâ finallyâ his fingers brush your arm.
Barely. But itâs enough. Enough to send heat straight through you.
âWell you know that Iâve always been a littleâŠâ he pauses, like heâs choosing the wordâ but he isnât.
He already knows it.
âPossessive.â
The word lands between you. Heavy. Not aggressive. Not controlling. Just⊠honest. Your breath catches.
Because of the way he says it. Like itâs not a warning. Like itâs a fact.
And somehowâ it doesnât scare you.It does the opposite. Your heart jumps.
Heat creeps up your chest and between your legs.
ââŠYou donât get to be,â you say, but your voice isnât nearly as steady as you want it to be. âNot anymore.â Mingi notices.
A slow smile spreads across his lips.
âI know,â he says quietly.
But he doesnât step back. Doesnât break the moment. If anythingâ his gaze dips briefly to your lips. Then back to your eyes.
And this timeâ thereâs no teasing left in it.
Just something warm.
Dangerous in a completely different way.
âDoesnât mean Iâm going to stop,â he adds softly. Your heart really doesnât know what to do anymore.
And the worst part? Youâre not even trying to move away.
ââ
Your phone is still warm in your hand when you finally manage to step away from the desk.
Mingi has left the office. Said something about âgiving you space to focus,â like he didnât just rearrange your entire nervous system five minutes ago. You sit down too fast in your chair, exhale once, then stare at your phone like it might bite you. Then you call Mina. She picks up on the second ring.
âOkay,â she says immediately. âYouâre calling during work hours. Either youâre dying or youâve finally fucked someone interesting.â You close your eyes.
ââŠHi.â
A beat.
Then: âOH MY GOD. YOU DID.â
âI didnât say that.â
âYou didnât have to SAY it. Your tone just confessed.â
You press the phone harder to your ear. âI need you to be normal.â
âImpossible,â Mina says brightly. âStart talking.â
So you do. At first it comes out messy. Fragmented. Like your brain is still trying to file it under this did not happen. âMingi came to my office,â you say. âEarly. You know because of the custody issues.â
âOooh,â Mina interrupts immediately. âOffice man energy. I like it.â
âAnd then Lee Don-Ju was there.â
Thereâs a pause.
ââŠWho?â
You sigh. âMister Potato Head,â you whisper almost inaudibly.
A sharp laugh explodes through the speaker.
âSTOP. You actually call him that?â
âIt fits,â you say flatly.
âIt REALLY fits,â Mina agrees, still laughing. âPlease continue.â
So you do. You tell her about the meeting. About the tension that builds too fast, too strange. About Mingi leaning in too close, about how he looks at you like heâs already decided things that no one agreed on.
âAnd he justââ you stop, swallowing. âHe just acts like Iâm still⊠his.â
Mina goes quiet for half a second.
Then: âOh. So itâs THAT kind of situation.â
âWhat kind?â
âThe âI am emotionally unavailable but violently territorial over youâ kind,â she says instantly. âClassic male lead behavior, honestly.â
âItâs not a K drama.â
âIt literally is.â
You ignore that. Then you say it. The part youâve been avoiding even in your own head.
ââŠHe kissed me.â
Silence.
â..again.â
Not even breathing on the other end.
ââŠHE WHAT?!?â
You pull the phone slightly away from your ear.
âMina, come on!â
âNO, NO, NO, HOLD ON.â Her voice is suddenly high-pitched, disbelieving, delighted. âYou cannot drop that like itâs nothing. He kissed you again? Like KISSED kissed you?â
âYes.â
âThat smug motherfucker! Was it good?â
You hesitate. That hesitation is apparently answer enough. Mina SCREAMS.
You wince. âPlease donâtââ
âNO BECAUSE THIS IS CINEMA,â she continues, spiraling. âThis is literally a slow-burn getting-backâtogether romance with a jealous side character named POTATO HEADââ
âHeâs a collegeaue.â
ââWITH A POTATO HEAD LAWYER AND A MAN WHO WALKS INTO ROOMS LIKE HE OWNS YOU!â
You bury your face in your free hand.
âItâs not funny.â
âItâs EXTREMELY funny,â Mina insists. âAnd also insane. And also I love it.â
You exhale.
âItâs confusing,â you admit quieter. That makes her pause again. A little softer this time. âBecause you still like him?â The question lands heavier than you want it to. You stare at your desk. At the place where Mingi was standing minutes ago. At the invisible imprint of him that somehow still feels too close.
âI donât know,â you say first.
Then, more honestâworse:
ââŠYes.â
Mina makes a sound like sheâs just won a prize.
âI KNEW IT.â
âI said yes and I regret it immediately, because five years ago he broke my heart in pieces!â
âYou donât regret it,â she corrects. âYou regret that itâs true.â
You donât answer. Because sheâs right, and you hate that she is.
Minaâs voice drops slightly, still excited but more careful now. âOkay, but listen to me. Real question.â
You already know whatâs coming.
âDo you still find him attractive?â
A pause. You close your eyes again. That part is not complicated. That part is infuriatingly simple.
âYes,â you admit.
Mina screams again.
âSTOP. STOP. YOUâRE LIVING MY DREAM AND MY NIGHTMARE AT THE SAME TIME.â
âMinaââ
âNo, no, let me process,â she says dramatically. âSo your brain is like: âdanger, red flag, emotional damage risk again,â but your pussy is likeââ
âDonât.â
âââYES, SIGN ME UP, RUIN ME, THANK YOU VERY MUCH.ââ
You press your fingers to your forehead.
ââŠPretty much.â
She gasps. âOH MY GOD. HEâS THAT GOOD?â
âYeah, best Iâve ever had,â you say, then immediately regret it.
Mina catches it instantly. Of course she does.
âOho,â she says slowly. âSo he has a big dick and knows how to use it!â
Mina sighsâstill way too entertained. âOkay. Listen. Iâm going to say something very important.â
ââŠGo on.â
âYou are not confused,â she says. âYou are just emotionally held hostage by a tall man with good timing and a big cock.â
âThat is notââ
âThat is EXACTLY what it is.â
You lean back in your chair.
Your ceiling suddenly feels very interesting.
âI told myself I wouldnât let him back in,â you say quietly.
Mina softens again, just slightly.
âAnd?â
You swallow.
âAnd he still makes me forget that.â
Thereâs a pause on the line.
Less joking now.
Just her voice, a little lower.
ââŠYeah,â Mina says. âThatâs usually how it starts.â
You donât reply.
Because somewhere deep down, you already know sheâs not talking about a joke anymore.
And for the first time since Mingi walked into your officeâ you donât know whether the problem is him coming back into your life⊠or the part of you that never really closed the door.
âââ
Sunday morning is quiet for exactly three secondsâthen the door bursts open.
âMORNING!â
Mingiâs voice fills the apartment before he even fully steps inside, loud, bright, completely out of place in your low-energy haze. He looks like he always does after being away for a few daysâcharged up, eyes sparkling, that familiar mischief already written all over his face.
You, on the other hand, feel like youâve been run over by the entire week.
Shorts. Oversized T-shirt. Hair in a high ponytail that was more about survival than style.
You barely glance at him. âYouâre loud.â
âAnd you lookââ he stops mid-sentence, eyes dragging over you, a slow grin spreading, ââhot.â
You roll your eyes, already turning away. âCoffee?â
âYes, please,â he answers immediately, like he owns the place. Before you can move, two small hurricanes come sprinting around the corner.
âDaddy!â
âDaddy, youâre back!â
Sia and Nari launch themselves at him, matching his energy perfectly. He laughs, scooping them up effortlessly, spinning once just because he can. Meanwhile, you just stand there, exhausted, watching the chaos unfold.
âSit down,â you mumble. âIâll make coffee.â
You turn toward the kitchen, already halfway gone mentally, when his voice cuts through again.
âWaitâwhat the hell are you wearing?â
You stop.
Slowly, you look down at yourself, confused, tugging slightly at the hem of your shirt. âWhat?â
âThat.â He points at you like youâve personally offended him. âWhat is that?â
âItâs⊠a T-shirt?â you say flatly. âCongratulations, youâve identified clothing.â
His eyes narrow. âFrom who?â
You squint at him. ââŠItâs an old shirt. From We Dem Boyz.â
Silence.
Then Mingi looks at you like youâve just committed a crime.
âTake it off.â
You blink. ââŠExcuse me?â
âTake. It. Off.â
A laugh slips out of you, sharp and disbelieving. âHave you completely lost your mind?â
âIâm serious,â he says, already stepping closer. âYouâre not wearing that in my presence.â
âOh my god,â you scoff, turning away again. âGrow up.â
âTake it off,â he repeats.
And, of courseâ
âYeah, take it off!â Sia echoes immediately.
Nari nods enthusiastically. âDaddy said so!â
You freeze for a second, then slowly turn your head toward them.
They just giggle.
You shake your head, laughing under your breath, and start walking toward the kitchen again. âIâm getting coffee. You can argue with yourself.â
Thereâs a pause. Then you hear movement. Heavy, deliberate.
You donât even need to look back to know.
âIf you donât take it off,â Mingi says, voice lower now, threaded with amusement, âI will.â
You snort. âYeah, Iâd like to see you trââ
He lunges.
âHeyâ!â
You barely get a step before his hand catches your shirt, pulling you back with surprising force. You stumble straight into him, hitting his broad chest with a soft thud.
âMingi!â
Heâs already trying to tug the shirt up, laughing as you immediately start struggling.
âLet goâare you insane?!â
âNever,â he grins.
You twist, pushing at him, but heâs strongerâalways has beenâand it only makes it worse when you start laughing despite yourself.
âStopâ! Mingi, I swearââ
âGet it!â he calls out.
Tiny hands join the chaos.
Sia grabs the hem of your shirt. Nari tries to help from the other side, both of them giggling like this is the best game ever invented.
âOh my god, noâthis is betrayal!â you laugh, half breathless now, trying to fend all three of them off. âYouâre supposed to be on my side!â
âNope!â Sia chirps.
âTeam Daddy!â Nari adds proudly.
âThis is ridiculousâ!â
Itâs absolute chaosâtugging, laughing, you trying to escape, them refusing to let goâ
Victory. The shirt comes off.
âYES!â Mingi cheers, holding it up like a trophy. âBurn it!â
âRun!â he immediately adds, tossing it toward the girls. âHide it!â
Sia and Nari scream in excitement and sprint off down the hallway, clutching the shirt like itâs the most valuable thing theyâve ever owned. You finally stumble back, free, breath uneven, hair slightly messed up now.
âUnbelievable,â you mutter, still catching your breath, though a reluctant smile tugs at your lips. Mingi, however, isnât looking at your face anymore. Your smile fades just a fraction. His gaze dropsâat your titsâbefore he smirks, completely unashamed.
âHm,â he hums. âYou know⊠for safety reasonsââ
You already narrow your eyes.
âThat sports bra should probably go too,â he continues casually. âWouldnât want more rival merch in the house.â
You stare at him. Then smack his arm lightly.
âIdiot.â
He just grins, completely unfazed, eyes still teasing, still too aware. You press your lips together, forcing your expression back into something neutralâeven if thereâs still a hint of laughter threatening underneath.
âStay right there,â you warn, stepping back. âDonât follow me.â
âWouldnât dream of it,â he says, already clearly lying.
You turn and head quickly toward your room, grabbing the first thing you can find to throw on.
Summary: Five years ago, Mingi had to make a choiceâbetween you and his career. Back then, he chose his career, which soared rapidly afterward. Famous, beloved, celebrated all over the world. You, on the other hand, were left behindâalone, broken, and hurt. And as fate would have it, you meet again, and things take an unexpected turnâŠ
content: fluff, little smut
a/n: Hi everyone! Here comes Chapter 4 â I think this is one of my favorite chapters so far! And weâre slowly heading toward smut, so stay tuned! Thank you so much for all the likes, it really means a lot to me!
Chapter 4
To say your day has been absolutely shitty so far would be the understatement of the century.
Your workload is piling up to the ceiling, the girlsâespecially Siaâcry every single night because they want Mingi to move in with you, and speaking of the devil, Mingi has been nagging you for days about taking the girls with him to Sydney for his concert. When he first suggested it, you thought it was a bad joke. When he turned out to be completely seriousâand then casually added that you should come tooâyou nearly lost your mind. After everghing that happened the last time?! Who does he think he is? You have a job, a routine, a lifeâwell⊠sort of. Either way, youâd rather go on another date with Mister Potato Head than fly to Sydney in a private jet with Mingi and your daughters just to watch another Ateez concert. For days now, the two of you have been arguing about it nonstop. Youâre putting away the last documents when your mom texts you, saying the girls want to stay over and sheâll bring them back sometime tomorrow afternoon.Well, at least youâve got the place to yourself, you think. Youâre going to order some good food and take a long bath.
Another message pops up. Mingi. Again. Ever since the girls told him you still think heâs hot, heâs been texting you more, getting closer, trying to break down the distance youâve worked so hard to build. Especially after the argument at the concert, you try to keep Mingi as far away from you as possible. Because Mingi usually means trouble, and unlike him, you've grown up, become responsible, and can control yourself. You ignore the message and put your phone away just as your coworker and good friend Jia walks into your office.
âHey y/n, a few of us are going out for food and then to a bar. You coming?â
Your answer should be an immediate âno,â but you hesitate. But one the other side youâre still a girl in her 20sâ. No kids, no responsibilities, and you havenât been out in ages. Another message from Mingi lights up your screenâand just like that, decision made.
Fuck it. Good food and a few drinks sound exactly right after a week like this.
ââââ
Youâre laughing with your coworkers, sitting around the table, absolutely destroying one specific group of people: men. Jia just got out of a relationship, and her declared enemy is anything with a penis. Unfortunately, a few drinks turn into⊠quite a few drinks. And now youâre very drunk. Like⊠very.
But heyâone more shot wonât hurt.
âDonât look, but the guy across from us keeps staring at your cleavage,â Jia whispers, subtly nodding her head.
You glance over and give him a judgmental once-over. Ugh. Youâre so done with men.
âTo be fair,â Han-woo cackles, âyou do have amazing boobs.â
You roll your eyes.
âWith your body and your face, men should be lining up for you,â Jia adds dryly before downing another shot.
You wave her off but blow her a kiss anyway. You buy one more round before calling it a night. The moment you step outside and the cold air hits you, it finally clicks just how drunk you actually are. Completely. Absolutely. Wasted.
Shit.
Youâll call Mina. She can pick you up. You squint at your phone because everything is annoyingly blurry.
When it finally starts ringing, you press it to your ear.
ây/n?â
âMinaaa, can you pick me uuuup?â you slur, already stumbling over your own feet.
ây/n? Is that you?â the voice on the other end asks.
âYeeees,â you mumble, âIâm in front of Sulbam and I wanna go home. Minaaa, I am so drunk,â you giggle.
ây/n? Are you okay? You sound drunk.â
You click your tongue, annoyed. You love Mina, but sometimes sheâs really slow.
âMina, come on. Iâm waiting outside, okay? And hurry,â you slur, running a hand through your hair. âThereâs this gross guy inside who kept staring at my boobs.â
With that very important information, you hang up. Honestly, Mina shouldnât be so dramaticâyouâve been here before.
Mingi gets lucky and finds a parking spot right in front of the bar.
He spots you immediately. Youâre wearing high heels againâseriously, how do you even walk in those things? Then again, you are tiny. At least they give you some height. A tight black skirt, your gray coat⊠and your full attention glued to your phone.
âWhat are you doing here?â you slur when he suddenly appears next to you.
Thatâs when it hits him just how drunk you are. You squint at him, scrunching your nose.
âYou called me.â
âNo I didnât!â you protest, laughing mockingly.
Mingi rolls his eyes. Arguing with you is already hard enoughâbut drunk you? Impossible.
âCome on, y/n. Iâll take you home,â he says gently, holding out his hand.
You stare at it suspiciously.
âYouâre shaking, and your hand is freezing. Come on. I wonât do anything, I promise.â
Like heâs trying to lure a scared little bunny, he keeps his hand out, staying perfectly calm. You sigh⊠and take it.
âBut you have to tell Mina, or sheâll come for nothing,â you hiccup, grabbing his hand. The moment Mingi pulls you closer, you trip over your own feet and fall right into him. He catches you instantlyâone hand on your arm, the other steadying your waist âand thatâs when he really realizesâ you are completely wasted. You blink up at him.
ââŠwow.â
Mingi frowns. âWhat?â
âYouâre⊠like⊠really big,â you mumble, poking his chest like youâre inspecting a suspicious piece of furniture. âAnd strong. Like⊠unnecessarily strong.â
He exhales sharply. âYouâre drunk.â
âNooo,â you protest immediately, swaying a littleâokay, a lot. âIâm observant.â
âRight,â he mutters, already guiding you toward the car. You let yourself be dragged along like a very uncooperative ragdoll.
âCarefulââ he starts, but itâs too late. You trip again, cling to him, and somehow end up half-hanging off his arm.
âWhy is the ground moving?â you whisper, deeply offended. âThe ground isnât moving. You are.â
âRude.â
Somehowâhonestly, itâs a miracleâhe manages to get you to the passenger side and gently shove you into the seat.
âStay,â he says, like youâre a misbehaving puppy. You immediately donât.
The moment he leans in to grab the seatbelt, you twist around, grab his sleeve, and start talking at full speed.
âThere was this GUY,â you declare dramatically, âin the bar. Disgusting. Revolting. A criminal, honestly.â
Mingi pauses, one hand braced against the car, the other holding the seatbelt. âA criminal.â
âYes! He kept staring at my boobs!â you gasp, outraged, as if this is breaking international law.
Mingi blinks. ââŠI see.â
âNo, you donât see,â you insist, poking his shoulder. âIt was likeâlike laser focus. Zero shame. None. Absolutely none.â
âIâm trying to buckle you in,â he says, attempting to reach across you again.
You lean forward at the exact wrong moment. His hand slips. He loses balance.
And suddenlyâhe nearly lands on top of you. For a split second, youâre face to face. Very close. Way too close. You squint at him.
ââŠDo you think my boobs are nice?â
Mingi freezes.
ââŠWhat?â
âYou heard me,â you say, completely serious now, as if this is a highly important scientific inquiry. âAre they nice?â
He exhales slowly, like heâs reconsidering every life choice that led him here.
ây/nââ
âBecause that guy clearly thought so,â you continue, gesturing vaguely, almost smacking him in the face. âAnd Jia said theyâre amazing, but Jia is biased because sheâs anti-men right now, so her opinion doesnât fully countââ
ây/n.â
âAnd I just thinkâobjectively speakingâyou as a manââ
ây/n.â
ââshould give a professional assessmentââ
ây/n!â
âWhat?!â you snap.
Thereâs a pause. Mingi looks at you. Really looks at you. Then he shuts his eyes briefly, like heâs surrendering.
ââŠYes,â he says flatly. âYour boobs are great.â You beam.
âI knew it.â
He finally manages to grab the seatbelt again, leaning over you carefully this time.
âNow will you sit still for two seconds?â
âYes Sir.â
He clicks the seatbelt into place with a sharp click. You grin up at him.
âYou almost fell on me.â
âI did fall on you.â
âYou liked it.â
Mingi just stares at you. Then he slowly pulls back, shuts the car door, and mutters under his breathâ
âI shouldâve let Mina pick you up.â
The drive is⊠an experience. Mostly for Mingi. Because you do not stop talking. And by the time he finally parks in front of your place, you are dramatically slumped against the window like a tragic movie character.
âI canât walk,â you announce the second he opens your door.
âYou walked into the bar just fine.â
âThat was before,â you say, offended. âMy feet have given up on life.â
He sighs. âOf course they have.â
You make a sad little noise as you try to standâand immediately wobble.
âOkayânopeâabsolutely not,â you mutter, grabbing onto him. âAbort mission. My feet are broken.â
âTheyâre not broken.â
âThey are emotionally broken.â
Mingi crouches down in front of you before you can argue further.
ââŠWhat are you doing?â you ask, squinting at him. âTaking these off before you break your neck.â One by one, he slips off your heels. The second your feet hit the ground, you groan in relief. âOh my god. I can feel my soul again.â
He straightensâand pauses. Because now, without the heels, youâre⊠tiny. Like, really tiny. Have you ever been that short? You blink up at him.
ââŠwhy are you staring?â
ââŠNothing,â he says quickly.
Your eyes narrow. âYou just realized how small I am, didnât you?â
ââŠMaybe.â
You gasp.
âYouâre the one who wore those death traps.â
You huffâthen immediately reach for him again. âCarry me.â
He stares at you. âNo.â
âIâm injured.â
âYouâre drunk.â
âSame thing.â
Thereâs a long pause. Then he exhales.
ââŠFine.â
Before you can celebrate properly, he bends down, hooks an arm under your legs, and lifts you up effortlessly. You blink. Then grin.
âOh my god.â
âWhat now?â
âYouâre so strong,â you say, poking his shoulder again like earlier.
He adjusts his grip on you as he starts walking toward your building. You, meanwhile, are having the time of your life. âAnd broad,â you add, patting his chest. âVery broad. Likeâwow. Do you work out or are you just⊠like this naturally?â
âPlease stop evaluating me like Iâm a piece of furniture.â
âIâm appreciating you.â
âYouâre drunk.â
âIâm honest.â
By the time he reaches your door, heâs already questioning his life choices again.
âKeys,â he says.
You blink at him.
ââŠKeys?â
âYes. The things you need to open your door.â
âOhhhh.â
You make absolutely no move to get them. He stares at you. You stare back.
ââŠy/n.â
ââŠMingi.â
ââŠYour keys.â
You sigh dramatically and fumble around in your bag for way too long before finally handing them to him like itâs a great personal sacrifice. Once inside, he kicks the door shut behind him and starts toward your bedroom.
âOkay,â he says, âIâm putting you down now.â
âNo.â
ââŠNo?â
âNo,â you repeat, tightening your arms around his neck. âI live here now.â
âYou already live here.â
âExactly. So I stay.â
He tries to pry you off. You cling harder.
ây/nââ
âNope.â
He takes one more stepâ âand promptly trips over absolutely nothing.
âShitââ
You both go down. Onto the bed.
Mingi catches himself at the last second so he doesnât fully crush youâbut he still ends up hovering right over you, braced on his arms. For a moment, everything goes still. You blink up at him. Slowly. Then a grin spreads across your face.
âOh my god.â
ââŠDonât start.â
âYou totally did that on purpose.â
âI absolutely did not.â
âMhm,â you hum, clearly not believing him. âYou just wanted an excuse to fall on top of me.â He lets out a disbelieving laugh. âYouâre naughty!â
âAnd you want to kiss me,â you add, very matter-of-fact. He freezes.
âI do notââ
âYou do,â you insist, nodding seriously. âI can tell.â
âOh yeah? How?â You tilt your head slightly, eyes half-lidded in drunken confidence.
âBecause youâre staring.â
âIâm notââ
âAt my ass.â
He chokes.
âI am NOTââ
âYou are,â you say, way too pleased with yourself. âItâs okay. Everyone does. Iâve been told itâs very nice.â
Mingi squeezes his eyes shut for a second like heâs praying for patience.
âThis,â he says slowly, âis why I shouldnât help you.â
You grin up at him, completely unbothered.
âBut you are helping me.â
ââŠUnfortunately.â You poke his chest again.
âAlso, for the recordââ
âNo.â
ââyou still havenât denied wanting to kiss me.â
âI literally just did.â
âMhm. Weak denial.â
He stares at you. You stare back. Still smiling. Still completely impossible.
ââŠYou need to sleep,â he finally mutters.
âBut Iâm entertaining.â
âYouâre exhausting.â
âSame thing.â
He exhales, pushing himself up before you can say anything worseâand probably more incriminating.
âStay. Here.â
âNo promises,â you sing.
âI mean it, y/nââ
Youâre still grinning up at him, way too pleased with yourself.
âBut you still want to kiss me,â you add, poking his chest again.
âI donâtââ
âYou do.â
âI donât.â
âYou do.â
He exhales sharply through his nose, jaw tightening.
ây/nââ
âYouâve been staring at me this whole time,â you continue, completely relentless. âFirst my boobs, now my butt⊠honestly, Mingi, youâre not even subtle.â
âI am NOT staringââ Well, he knows itâs a lie.
âYouâre obsessed with me,â you cut in, nodding like youâve just solved a complex mystery. That does it. Something in his expression shifts. Before you can say another word, he suddenly leans back down and presses you into the mattress with his weight. Your breath catches.
âOhâso now youâre using your strength again?â you murmur, still teasing, even though your voice wavers just a little.
âYeah,â he mutters, eyes locked on yours, âbecause you donât know when to stop talking.â
You grin.
âMake me.â
Thereâs a split second of silence. A dangerous one. Thenâhe snaps. Mingi doesnât think, doesnât hesitate. He just moves. He leans in and crashes his lips against yours, the impact a little rough, a little desperateâlike something heâs been holding back for far too long. For a fraction of a second, you freeze, and he feels it. The stillness. The surprise. It almost makes him pull away. Almost. But then you respond. And everything shifts. Your fingers twist into his shirt, tugging him closer, and thatâs all it takes for something deep in his chest to give in completely. The kiss softensâbut only slightlyâmelting from sharp urgency into something fuller, heavier with history. He remembers you. Not just the way you look, but the way you feel. Your lips are warmâso familiar it almost aches. They move against his with a rhythm that isnât new, just⊠rediscovered. Like muscle memory. Like something his body never forgot, even when everything else fell apart.
He tilts his head, deepening the kiss without thinking, his hand coming up instinctively to your waist, pulling you flush against him. Thereâs a quiet intensity in the way he kisses you nowânot rushed, not uncertainâjust certain. Like he knows exactly how you respond. The slight pressure, the way his lips linger just a second longer than necessary, the soft exhale against your skin when you press closerâitâs all deliberate, but effortless. Like slipping back into a language he used to speak fluently. And Godâyour lips still feel the same. Soft, but not fragile. Responsive. Stubborn, even, meeting him with equal force, equal need. It sends a low, steady heat through him, something deeper than just the momentâsomething rooted in everything you used to be. Everything you might still be. For a second, itâs just you. Just this. And the way your lips fit against his like they were never meant to forget each other. And for someone who âdidnât want to kiss youâ? Heâs not exactly holding back. Not even a little. When he finally pulls back, just barely, your faces are still way too close. Your lips are still tingling. Your thoughts? Gone. You blink up at him. Then a smug little smile spreads across your face. ââŠwow.â He exhales, like heâs just made a very questionable life decision.
âDonât.â
âYou really wanted to kiss me.â
âI didnâtââ
âYou literally just attacked me.â
âYou told me to.â
âI didnât think youâd actually do it,â you shoot back, grinning.
ââŠYeah,â he mutters. âNeither did I.â
You hum, clearly satisfied.
âTold you you were obsessed with me.â
He lets out a short, disbelieving laugh, shaking his head.
âYou are unbelievable.â
âAnd you kissed me anyway.â
Thereâs a beat. Something shifts. Your smile⊠softens. Just a little. You look at himânot teasing this time. Not smug. Just⊠tired.
ââŠstay.â
Mingi blinks.
âWhat?â
You hesitate for a second, like the words feel heavier than everything youâve said so far.
âStay,â you repeat, quieter now. âJust⊠for a bit.â He watches you carefully. This isnât your usual tone. Not the sharp, cold one. Not the playful, drunk one. Something else.
âI donât want to be alone tonight,â you admit, voice softer than before, almost fragile. That hits. Harder than anything youâve said all night. Mingiâs expression shifts instantly.
Because suddenly, itâs not about your teasing, or the kiss, or the chaos. Itâs about the fact that you mean it. You let out a small, breathy laugh, trying to brush it offâbut it doesnât quite land.
âIâm alone a lot, you know,â you mumble, eyes drifting away from his. âSo⊠justâstay. Please.â
And thatâthat completely wrecks him. For a moment, he doesnât say anything.
Because he shouldnât. He knows he shouldnât.
He kissed you. Youâre drunk. This is already a line he shouldnât have crossed. And the second youâre sober? Youâre going to kill him. Probably castrate him. He knows that.
Stillâ he looks at you. The way youâre lying there, suddenly so small again, not because of your heightâbut because youâre not hiding behind the wall of distance for once.
And yeah. Heâs done for. Mingi exhales slowly, running a hand through his hair like heâs trying to make a better decision. He doesnât.
ââŠjust tonight,â he mutters quietly.
Your eyes flick back to him.
âYeah?â
âYeah,â he says, softer now. âJust tonight.â
Your lips curve into a small, relieved smile.
âOkay.â
He shifts beside you instead of getting up, keeping just enough distance to pretend this is a good idea. Itâs not.
You turn slightly toward him anyway. Of course you do.
He lies on his back, and you nestle softly against his side, your head resting on his chest. Your eyes drift closed. For a moment, it feels just like it used toâwarm, familiar, and quietly perfect.
ââŠMingi?â
He closes his eyes briefly.
âWhat.â
âYouâre still obsessed with me.â
He lets out a quiet, tired huff.
âGo to sleep, y/n.â
And this timeâ
you actually do.
ââââ-
The morning hits you like a truck. Your head is pounding. Your mouth is dry. Your entire body feels like you got run overâand honestly, that mightâve been preferable.
You groan softly, turning onto your sideâ
âand freeze.
Oh no.
Fucking no!
Mingi.
Everything comes crashing back at once. The bar. The car. The talkingâgod, so much talking. The teasing.
The kiss.
Your eyes snap open.
You kissed him.
No.
Worse.
He kissed you, because you told him to!
You sit up abruptly, immediately regretting it as your head throbs even harder.
âShitâŠâ
You press your fingers to your temples, trying to piece things togetherâbut itâs all fragments, flashes, feelings.
And thenâ
you notice him.
Mingi is sitting at the edge of your bed, already dressed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. Like heâs been awake for a while.
Waiting.
The moment you move, he looks at you.
Thereâs something unreadable in his expression.
ââŠMorning,â he says quietly.
And just like thatâ
the walls go back up.
You pull the blanket tighter around yourself, like itâs some kind of shield.
âWhy are you still here?â you ask, your voice colder than you intended.
He blinks, clearly thrown off.
âIâ you asked me to stay.â You let out a short, humorless laugh.
âRight.â
Thereâs a pause.
Tension fills the room way too quickly.
âYou donât remember?â he asks carefully.
You do.Every second.
But admitting that? Not an option.
You shake your head slightly, avoiding his gaze. âNot really.â
Thatâs a lie. He knows it. You know he knows it. Stillâyou stick with it.
Another silence.
Then you inhale slowly, forcing the words out.
âDid you seriously think that was okay?â
Mingi frowns. âWhat?â
You finally look at him, eyes sharper now.
âKissing me. When I was drunk.â
His expression hardens instantly.
âYou kissed me back.â
âI was drunk,â you snap. âAnd emotional. And clearly not thinking straight.â
âThat doesnât mean I forced youâŠâ
âI didnât say you forced me,â you cut him off quickly, your tone defensive. âBut you knew what state I was in.â He stares at you, disbelief creeping in.
âSo whatâyou think I used that?â
You hesitate. That split second is enough.
Mingi lets out a short, bitter laugh. âWow.â
âIâm just saying it wasnât exactly⊠fair,â you mutter, even though something in your chest twists.
âUnbelievable,â he says under his breath, running a hand through his hair. âYou were the one pushing. The one teasing. You literally told me to kiss you.â
âI didnât think youâd actually do it!â you shoot back.
âOh, Iâm sorry,â he snaps, sarcasm dripping. âNext time Iâll ignore you completely, is that what you want?â
âYes!â you fire back. âThatâs exactly what I want. Justâdonât cross the line!â
A heavy silence drops between you.
Mingi looks at you like he doesnât recognize you.
âWhy are you like this?â he asks, frustration bleeding through. âWhy canât you justâbe normal about this?â
You stiffen.
âNormal?â
âYeah,â he says, standing up now, pacing a step. âNormal. Not pushing me away every time things get even slightly⊠I mean, not acting like everything has to be a fight.â
Your jaw tightens.
âOh, Iâm sorry if I donât handle things the way you want me to.â
âThatâs not what I saidââ
âNo, thatâs exactly what you meant,â you interrupt, your voice rising. âYou always do this. You show up, you push, you act like youâŠâ
âBecause I still care!â he snaps, turning back to you. âGod, do you even hear yourself right now?â
âI didnât ask you toââ
âYes, you did!â he fires back. âLast night! âStay, Mingi, I donât want to be aloneââdoes that ring a bell?â
Your breath catches. For a secondâ just a secondâ you falter.
But then the fear kicks in again. The walls slam back up.
âThat was a mistake,â you say coldly.
That one lands.
You can see it. Mingi goes still.
ââŠRight,â he says quietly.
The room feels suffocating now.
âMaybe,â he continues, his voice tight, âif you stopped being so damn stubborn and icy all the time and start to forgive me.â
âOr maybe,â you shoot back, âif you respected boundaries, we wouldnât be having this conversation.â
Thatâs it.
Something in him finally snaps.
âYeah,â he says sharply, grabbing his jacket. âYou know what? Youâre right.â
He heads for the door.
âMingiââ you start, but you donât even know what youâre about to say.
He stops for half a second.
Not turning around.
âNext time, Iâll just leave you alone.â
The door slams behind him.
And just like thatâ
you are.
Alone.
Again.
âââââ
Youâre sitting on a park bench with Mina at a childrenâs playground. The sun is shining, the girls are playing with their friend, and youâre recounting the kiss with Mingiâand the massive blow-up the morning after. You havenât heard from him since. He said goodbye to the girls and then left for a week-long tour in Australia. Yeah, maybe you were too harsh. Maybe you blamed him for something that wasnât entirely his fault. But he kissed you. Thatâs why you told Mina everything, hoping sheâd understand. Maybe even confirm that you handled the situation perfectly. When you finish, Mina just stares at you.
âYou kissed him?â
âHe kissed me.â
âBecause you wanted him toâŠâ
âIâno, I was drunk!â
âBut you wanted him to kiss you.â
âOkay, fine! But he shouldnât have listened to me!â
âI wouldâve kissed you too, to be honest. You can be pretty damn convincing,â she says with a casual shrug, a lazy grin tugging at her lips.
âMina! Thatâs not the point! He shamelessly took advantage of my state and kissed me. He shouldâve known better!â you insist, digging your heels in like your life depends on it.
âY/n,â Mina says gently, which is already suspicious, âit was a kiss. Big deal. Shake it off. Friends kiss.â
âWe are not friends.â
Mina sighs. A full-body, soul-leaving-her-eyes kind of sigh.
âY/n,â she tries again, âMingi is part of your life now. Like it or not. So you either keep giving him the cold shoulder for the rest of your life, or you open up a little and see where this goes,â she chirps, taking a sip of her coffee like she didnât just drop a whole emotional ultimatum on your lap.
âWhere is this supposed to go? He broke my heart, remember?â you snap, glancing over at Sia and Nari.
âYeah, and that sucked. But you survived. You grew. Youâre stronger now.â Mina squeezes your hand, and you give her a small smile. âWhich doesnât mean youâre not allowed to have a little fun. Didnât you say heâs⊠generously equipped?â
You stare at her like she just suggested arson as a hobby.
âMina!â
âWhat?â
âY/n, youâve been a perfect mom for years. Gold star, seriously. But maybe itâs time you think about yourself. Apologize to him and move on.â
Your mouth drops open in pure offense.
âI should apologize to him?!â
âYes.â
âNever. Iâd rather lick this disgusting park bench than apologize,â you declare, crossing your arms stubbornly under your chest.
Mina gestures toward the bench like a game show host presenting the grand prize.
âWell then. Go ahead.â
You hesitate. You actually consider it. How old is this bench? How many sticky children have touched it?
You groan, throwing your head back.
âFine. Iâll apologize. But I am not sleeping with him.â
âUntil youâve had a drink,â Mina comments dryly. You shoot her a look.
âNot even then. Iâm an adult. Iâll apologize, and then Iâll forget the whole thing. End of story.â You nod firmly to yourself and slide your sunglasses back onto your nose like that settles it. Mina leans back against the bench, watching the playground.
âSo⊠big dick?â
ââŠfuck, yes.â
ââââ
Mingi didnât plan to tell Yunho. He really didnât. But now theyâre sitting on his couch, a couple of beers in, and somehow it just⊠slips out.
âWe kissed.â
Yunho freezes mid-sip.
ââŠIâm sorry, what?â
Mingi shrugs, like itâs nothing. Like it didnât rewire his brain for a solid 48 hours.
âIt just happened.â
Yunho slowly lowers his drink, staring at him like he just confessed to a crime.
âYou kissed her.â
âYeah.â
âThe same woman who would rather commit murder than admit she likes you?â
Mingi huffs. âShe doesnât like me.â
âSure,â Yunho says dryly. âAnd Iâm the fucking Pope.â
Mingi rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his beer.
âShe was drunk.â
âAh,â Yunho nods. âClassic. Alcohol: ruining emotional repression since forever.â
Mingi snorts despite himself, then leans back into the couch.
âBut she wasâŠâ He hesitates.
Yunhoâs eyes narrow immediately. âShe was what?â
Mingi exhales slowly, staring at the ceiling like the answer is written there.
âDifferent.â
Yunho perks up. Oh, this gonna be good.
âDifferent how?â
Mingi shrugs, but thereâs something softer in his voice now.
âShe was laughing. A lot.â
He pauses.
âTalking nonstop. Likeâactual nonsense half the time, butâŠâ He huffs a quiet laugh. âShe was funny and flirty andâŠ,â
Yunho watches him carefully.
âAnd?â
âAnd nothing,â Mingi mutters.
âBullshit.â
Mingi clicks his tongue, annoyed. âShe justâwasnât so⊠tense all the time.â
âAh,â Yunho says, nodding like a therapist who just hit a breakthrough. âSo not her usual âIâd rather die than be nice to youâ vibe.â
Mingi gives him a look. âYouâre exaggerating.â
âIâm really not.â
Thereâs a pause.
Mingi stares down at his bottle, turning it slightly between his fingers.
âShe smiled at me,â he says quietly, almost like he didnât mean to say it out loud. âLike⊠really smiled.â
Yunho doesnât even try to hide his grin now.
âOh, youâre fucked.â
âIâm not fucked,â Mingi shoots back immediately.
âYouâre so fucked,â Yunho repeats, delighted.
Mingi scoffs. âRelax. It was one kiss.â
Yunho leans forward, elbows on his knees.
âWas it a good kiss?â
Mingi doesnât answer.
Thatâs all Yunho needs.
His grin widens. âOh my god. It was a good kiss.â
âShut up.â
âIt was a really good kiss.â
âYunhoââ
âYouâre in trouble, man.â
âIâm not in trouble,â Mingi insists, a little too quickly. âNothingâs gonna happen. Sheâd rather torture me and dump my body somewhere than start anything with me.â
âWow. Romantic,â Yunho deadpans.
âIâm serious.â
Yunho studies him for a moment. Then his expression shiftsâjust slightly. Less teasing. More knowing.
ââŠAnd you?â he asks. âWould you?â
Mingi frowns. âWould I what?â
âStart something.â
The question hangs in the air. For a second, Mingi looks like he might brush it off again. But then he exhales, running a hand through his hair.
âThatâs not the point.â
âThatâs not an answer.â
Mingiâs jaw tightens.
âIt wouldnât work,â he says finally. âNot afterâŠâ He trails off.
Yunho tilts his head. âAfter you broke her heart?â
Mingi lets out a quiet, humorless laugh.
âYeah,â he mutters. âAfter that.â
The room goes a little quieter. Mingi stares at nothing in particular, expression unreadable now.
âI really messed that up,â he adds after a moment, voice lower. âBack then.â
Yunho watches him, the teasing goneâfor once. âThen maybe donât mess it up again,â he says simply. Mingi huffs, shaking his head.
âBold of you to assume Iâll even get the chance.â
Yunho leans back again, smirking just a little. âOh, you will,â he says. âShe kissed you back, didnât she?â
Mingi hesitates. Just for a second.
Yunho points at him immediately. âThere it is.â
âDonât start.â
âYouâre doomed.â
âShut up.â
Yunho raises his beer in a mock toast.
âTo emotional damage.â
Mingi flips him offâ
âbut thereâs the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his mouth.
âââ-
After a week, you text Mingi and ask to meet. He agrees with a thumbs-upâwhat an sulky idiot. You meet at your place, and as you park your car and step out, youâve already spotted him. You find him faster than expected. Heâs leaning against the side of the building, phone in hand, looking annoyingly calm. Like he didnât just turn your brain into emotional soup for the past week. Of course he looks good. Of course he does. Asshole. He glances up when you approachâand there it is. That small, knowing smile that immediately puts you on edge. âHey,â he says, like nothing happened.
God. You hate that.
âHi.â
Great. Brilliant start. Nobel Prize for communication. Thereâs a pause. Not a comfortable one. The kind that stretches just a little too long. You cross your arms. Uncross them. Cross them again.
âI⊠uhâŠâ
Wow. Incredible. Truly eloquent. Mingi doesnât interrupt. He just watches you, patient. Which somehow makes it worse.
âI wanted to talk to you,â you finally manage.
âYeah, I figured.â
Of course he did. Of course heâs calm. Of course youâre the one internally combusting. You inhale. Deep breath. You can do this. Youâre an adult. A rational, emotionally mature adultâ
âIâm sorry.â
The words come out rushed, like youâre afraid they might physically hurt you if you say them slower. Mingi blinks. Just once. Then he nods slightly, like heâs giving you space to continue. You donât want to. Unfortunately, you also have a conscience.
âI was⊠unfair,â you admit, each word dragged out like it weighs ten kilos. âThat morning. IâI blamed you forâŠâ You gesture vaguely. âStuff.â
âStuff,â he repeats, amused.
You glare at him. âDonât.â
He raises his hands in mock surrender, lips twitching. You sigh, rubbing your forehead. âI was drunk, yesâbut thatâs not the whole truth.â
He doesnât say anything. Just watches you. Waiting.
âIâŠâ You hesitate again, then force it out. âI wanted you to kiss me.â
There. Itâs out. You feel like you just confessed to a crime.
âAnd then I freaked out and made it your fault. Whichââ you wince, ââwas shitty.â
Silence. You risk a glance at him. Heâs still calm. Still steady. No anger. No smug âI told you so.â Just⊠soft.
âWell,â he says after a moment, âthat explains a lot.â
You huff. âDonât sound so pleased about it.â
âIâm not pleased,â he says, then pauses. âOkay, maybe a little.â
You roll your eyes, but thereâs no real bite behind it.
âIâm serious,â you mutter. âI shouldnât have snapped at you like that.â
Mingi shrugs lightly. âYou were overwhelmed. It happens. I mean, given our history.â
âThat doesnât make it okay.â
âNo,â he agrees easily. âBut it makes it understandable.â
That throws you off more than anger would have. You glance at him again, suspicious. âYouâre⊠not mad?â
âI was,â he admits. âFor about five minutes. Then I figured youâd come around eventually.â
You scoff. âWow. Your faith in me is inspiring.â He grins. âI know you.â
That lands harder than it should. You shift your weight, suddenly unsure what to do with yourself now that the world hasnât ended.
âSo⊠weâre good?â you ask, a little awkwardly. Mingi studies you for a second, then nods. âYeah. Weâre good.â
Relief settles in your chest, warm and unexpected. You exhale. âOkay. Good.â
Then his expression changes. Subtleâbut you notice. That familiar spark. Trouble incoming.
âSo,â he says casually, pushing off the wall and stepping a little closer, âyou wanted me to kiss you.â
You immediately tense. âDonât start.â
âIâm just clarifying,â he says, completely innocent. Liar. âFor accuracy.â
You narrow your eyes. âMingi.â He ignores that.
âAnd,â he continues, tilting his head slightly, âsince weâre being honest nowâŠâ
Oh, this is fucking bad.
ââŠdid you like it?â
Your brain short-circuits.
âIâwhat? Thatâs notâirrelevantââ
âThatâs not a no,â he points out smoothly.
You open your mouth. Close it. Open it again. âIâm not answering that.â
Mingiâs grin widens, slow and dangerous.
âWhich,â he says, leaning in just enough to make your pulse trip, âis a yes.â
âIt is not!â
âMm.â He hums thoughtfully. âSo you didnât like it at all?â
You hesitate. Fuck. This fucking smug bastard. He sees it. Of course he sees it. His eyes light up with pure, shameless amusement.
âOh, wow,â he murmurs. âYou really liked it.â
Your face burns. âYouâre insufferable.â
âAnd you wanted me to kiss you,â he shoots back, far too pleased with himself.
You groan, dragging a hand over your face. âI take it back. Iâm not sorry.â
âToo late,â he says lightly.
You drop your hand and glare at him.
He just smilesâsoft this time, but still teasing.
âGood to know, though,â he adds.
âKnow what?â you snap.
âThat Iâm still a good kisser.â
You stare at him.
Then you shake your head, already turning away.
âUnbelievable.â
Mingi falls into step beside you effortlessly.
âHey,â he nudges, voice low, playful, âif you ever need a reminderâŠâ
You donât even look at him.
âShut up.â
He laughs.
And damn itâthis time, you donât fight your smile.
ââ-
You push the door open a little too fast, morning air still clinging to your jacket as you step inside, gripping the small bag in your hand.
âIâm just dropping this off andââ
You stop. On the couch: Yunho. Next to him, sprawled out like he owns the placeâWooyoung. Both look up.
And thenâthose grins. Yeah. No escape.
âWell, well,â Wooyoung drawls, slowly sitting up, eyes sparkling with mischief. âIf it isnât our favorite little scandal.â
You sigh, already walking toward the table. âIâm just bringing Mingi his stuff.â
âOf course you are,â Yunho says calmly, but the corner of his mouth twitches. âAnd the kissing? Complimentary service?â
You shoot him a look. âYou two are being dramatic. It was one kiss. It meant nothing. Itâs not happening again.â
âShame,â Wooyoung murmurs, placing a hand over his heart in fake disappointment as he leans closer to you. âAnd here I was thinking I might get lucky too, sweetheart.â
You roll your eyesâbut thereâs a small smile tugging at your lips. He notices. Of course he does.
âOr,â he adds, voice dropping just enough to be teasing, not pushy, âmaybe you just go around kissing people. I wouldnât complain, babygirl.â
For exactly five seconds, you drop your usual composure. You step closer, lean down just a littleâyour fingers come up, thumb and middle finger gently but firmly pinching his cheeks.
âCareful,â you say quietly, eyes locked on his, âwhat you wish for.â Then you let go.
Wooyoung blinks, caught off guardâand then breaks into a soft laugh. âOh, youâve always been my favorite.â
Yunho chuckles under his breath before tilting his head slightly, watching you more closely now. âSo⊠did you like it?â
You donât hesitate. âNo.â Too fast. Too sharp. The room shifts, just slightly. Yunhoâs expression softens, something quieter slipping into his voice. âYou knowâŠâ he starts, leaning back, more serious now, âsince you and Mingi broke up⊠he hasnât had anything real.â
You stay still.
âHe hooks up sometimes,â Yunho continues, almost casually. âNothing serious. ButâŠâ He pauses, then looks straight at you. âHe hasnât looked at anyone the way he looks at you.â
Your chest tightens. On the outside, you barely react. Maybe a blink. Maybe a small shift of your weight.
Inside? Everything stirs. Confusion. Old memories pushing back to the surface. Something fragile you thought you buried.
And beneath all of itâ
Relief.
You hate that itâs there. Yunho notices. Damn clever Yunho! Of course he does. He doesnât call you out. Just glances at Wooyoung and gives him the smallest, knowing wink.
Message received. The seed is planted.
âI should go,â you say, grabbing your jacket a bit too quickly.
âYeah, but come back!â Wooyoung replies, softer this time, watching you.
You donât look back as you head for the door.
You open it, step outsideâ
And the moment the door closes behind you, everything hits at once. Your thoughts spiral. Your chest feels too tight.
And your heart? Complete chaos.
âââ
The door barely clicks shut behind you before it swings open again. Mingi steps in, slightly out of breath, keys still in his hand. âI forgot myââ
He stops. Yunho and Wooyoung are both staring at him. Grinning.
ââŠWhat,â Mingi says slowly, already suspicious. Wooyoung sits up straighter, way too excited. âYour girl was just here.â
Mingi freezes. âSheâs notââ He exhales. âWhy was she here?â
âShe brought your stuff,â Yunho answers casually, then adds, way too innocently, âand we had a lovely chat.â
Mingi narrows his eyes. ââŠWhat did you do?â
Wooyoung gasps. âWow. No trust.â
âMingi,â Yunho says, folding his hands together like heâs about to deliver life advice, âwe might have mentioned the kiss.â
Silence. Mingi blinks once. Twice.
ââŠyouâve gotta be fucking kidding me?â
Wooyoung waves a hand. âRelax, she didnât kill us.â
âYet,â Yunho adds.
Mingi stares at both of them like heâs actively reconsidering every life choice that led him here. âDo you two want to pick out a shared grave now or later?â
Wooyoung bursts out laughing. âSee, this is why youâre still single. No vision.â
âNo survival instinct, you mean,â Mingi mutters.
Yunho leans forward, elbows on his knees. âListen. She said it didnât mean anything.â
Mingi looks away immediately, jaw tightening just a bit. Wooyoung clocks it instantly.
Mingiâs eyes flick back to him. âWhat does that mean?â
Itâs Wooyoung who answers, grin returning full force. âIt means sheâs lying. Or at least⊠not telling the whole truth.â
Mingi scoffs quietly. âYou donât know her like that.â
âOh please,â Wooyoung shoots back. âI know exactly what I saw. And what I saw? Was a woman trying very hard to act unaffected while lookingââ
He gestures vaguely in the air.
ââridiculously hot while doing it.â
Mingi closes his eyes for a second. âDonât.â
âIâm serious!â Wooyoung insists. âShe walked in like that? Hair, attitude, that body, that whole âI donât careâ thing? Yeah, no, if I were you Iâd risk my life again.â
Yunho chuckles. âHeâs not wrong.â
Mingi looks between them, incredulous. âYouâre both insane.â
âAnd you,â Yunho points at him, âare wasting time.â
Mingi frowns. âWhat am I supposed to do, exactly?â
âTry,â Yunho says simply. âTalk to her. Get closer again. You donât have to jump into anythingâbut stop acting like itâs over when it clearly isnât.â
Mingi hesitates. Wooyoung leans forward, resting his chin on his hand, eyes sharp. âAlsoâjust putting this out thereâyou two had insane chemistry in bed.â
Mingi groans. âWooyoungââ
âNo, Iâm serious!â he cuts in, unapologetic. âThe tension? The way she reacts to you? And letâs not pretend you two were fucking like rabbits.â
Mingi drags a hand down his face. âI hate you.â
âIâm helping you,â Wooyoung corrects. âBecause if I looked like her? And had that kind of history with you? And that kind ofââ
âFinish that sentence and you die,â Mingi snaps.
Wooyoung grins. ââconnection,â he finishes innocently. âThen yeah. Iâd absolutely give it another shot.â
Yunho nods, more grounded but just as firm. âShe still affects you. That hasnât changed. And from what we saw?â He tilts his head slightly. âYou affect her too.â
Mingi goes quiet. The teasing fades, just a little. He looks down at the floor, thinking.
Wooyoung softensâjust barely. âLook⊠worst case? She shuts you down.â
âBest case?â Yunho adds.
Mingi exhales slowly.
ââŠBest case,â he mutters, almost to himself.
Wooyoung leans back again, satisfied. âExactly. And if it works out, I expect a thank you.â Mingi shoots him a look. âYouâre not getting anything.â
Wooyoung grins. âWeâll see. Iâm very persuasive.â
âDonât,â Mingi and Yunho say at the same time. Then Yunho smirks.
âGo after her, idiot.â
Mingi huffsâbut thereâs something different in his expression now. Less doubt. More⊠resolve.
âBetter start looking for a new band memberâbecause once sheâs done with me, Iâm fucking dead.â
ââ-
You sit at the small kitchen table, crayons scattered everywhere, paper covered in chaotic splashes of color. Sia is talking non-stop, her voice bright and loud as she gestures wildly with a purple crayon, while Nari sits beside her, quietly focused, carefully filling in the lines of what looks like a cat.
âAnd then Nikki fell! Likeâboom!â Sia exclaims, nearly knocking over her cup.
Nari giggles softly, not looking up. âShe didnât cry, though.â
You smile, half-listening, half-lost in your own thoughtsâthe same thoughts that have been haunting you for days now. That kiss. God, why did you let that happen?
âMommy?â
Siaâs voice snaps you back.
âYes, baby?â
She tilts her head, studying you very seriously. âWhy are you so small⊠and Daddy is so big?â
You blink, caught off guard. âSmall?â
âYouâre tiny!â she declares, holding her hands up as if measuring you. âDaddy is likeâwhoooosh!â She stretches her arms as high as she can.
You huff a quiet laugh. âPeople grow differently. Some are tall, some are small. Thatâs just how it is.â
Nari finally looks up, her big eyes thoughtful. âWill we be big like Daddy⊠or small like you?â
You soften at her question. âWe donât know yet. Youâll grow however you grow. And youâll both be perfect, okay?â They nod, satisfiedâfor nowâand go back to coloring. For a moment, thereâs peace. Just the sound of crayons scratching against paper.
You almost relax.
âMommy?â
You already feel the danger before Sia even finishes.
âHow do you and Daddy kiss?â
Your entire body freezes. For a second, you forget how to breathe. That kiss flashes through your mind, vivid and unwantedâhis lips, the way everything you buried came rushing back. You swallow hard, forcing your face to stay neutral.
âWe⊠donât kiss,â you say quickly.
Sia frowns immediately. âBut mommys and daddys kiss! Nikkiâs mommy and daddy kiss all the time!â You clear your throat. âWell, every family is different.â
Sia narrows her eyes, unconvinced. Nari tilts her head again, curious.
âBut how would you do it?â Nari asks softly. âDo you stand on a chairâŠ?â
Sia gasps. âOr a ladder?!â
You bite your lip, a laugh threatening to slip out despite your internal panic. âOkay, thatâs enoughâhow about we focus onââ
The doorbell rings. Youâve never been more relieved in your life.
âIâll get it!â you say quickly, standing up a little too fast. You practically rush to the door, grateful for the escapeâuntil you open it.
Because life clearly hates you. Mingi stands there, exactly as alwaysâeffortlessly tall, annoyingly charming, that familiar smirk already playing on his lips.
âMiss me?â he teases.
You roll your eyes, stepping aside. âDonât start.â
He chuckles, brushing past you like he belongs thereâlike he never left. Of course he walks straight into the kitchen with you trailing behind, already bracing yourself.
âHey, princesses,â he greets warmly.
âDaddy!â Sia shouts, jumping off her chair.
Nari smiles shyly, waving. âHi, Daddy.â
He grins, crouching down to their level. âWhat are you two up to?â
Sia doesnât hesitate. Not even for a second.
âWe were asking Mommy how you two kiss!â
Silence. Mingi bursts out laughing. Loud. Unapologetic. Completely entertained.
Your face burns as you step forward and smack his shoulder. âSeriously?!â
Heâs still laughing, shaking his head. âWow⊠straight to the important questions, huh?â
You cross your arms, glaring at him while he grins like this is the funniest thing in the world. Meanwhile, your heart is pounding, that stupid, stupid kiss replaying all over again.
Great. At this rate, it really is going to haunt you forever. Mingi leans back slightly, still grinning like he just found his new favorite form of entertainment. His eyes flicker to you, full of mischief.
âOh?â he says, voice dripping with mock curiosity. âNow Iâm kind of curious too⊠how do we kiss?â
You narrow your eyes at him instantly. âDonât.â
Sia gasps like this is the best moment of her life. âI KNOW!â
Both of you turn to her.
âYou can stand on a chair!â she announces proudly, pointing at one of the kitchen chairs like she just solved a world problem. Mingi blinks, then slowly looks at the chair⊠then at you⊠then back at Sia.
ââŠWhat?â
Nari nods, completely serious. âMommy is small,â she explains gently, like he might not understand. âAnd you are very, very big.â Thereâs a beat of silence. Then Mingi bursts out laughing againâlouder this time, throwing his head back like this is the funniest thing heâs ever heard. You roll your eyes, already turning away, but you canât quite stop the small smile tugging at your lips.
âGlad youâre having fun,â you mutter. Sia, however, is not done. Not even close.
âI can show you!â she declares, suddenly climbing onto her chair. âThis is how you do a kiss!â
âOh noââ you start, stepping forward.
Mingiâs grin only widens, his gaze flicking to you, pure trouble dancing in his eyes. You point a finger at him. âDonât you dare.â
He raises his hands innocently. âWhat? Iâm just learning from an expert.â
âMingiââ
âIâm warning you!â you snap, already backing up a step. Too late. He moves fast, reaching out and pulling you lightly toward him.
âMingi,â you hiss under your breath, âI swear toââ
âDO IT, DADDY!â Sia cheers.
âDaddy!â Nari adds, quieter but just as invested.
Traitors! Mingi doesnât hesitate. He leans down and presses a quick, exaggerated kiss to your cheek. Your brain short-circuits. Before you can even react, he turnsâstill holding you looselyâand looks at the girls like theyâre a panel of judges.
âWell?â he asks casually. âHow was that?â
Sia hums, considering.
But Nari frowns slightly, shaking her head. âHmm⊠I donât knowâŠâ
Mingi raises a brow. âNo?â
She looks at you, then back at him. âDaddy is really big,â she says thoughtfully. âI donât think that works.â
You nod immediately, crossing your arms. âSee? It doesnât work.â Mingi glances between you and Nari⊠then smirks. He lets go of you like itâs no big deal, shrugging. âRelax,â he says lazily. âUsually youâre the one trying to kiss me anyway.â
Your mouth drops open. âExcuse me?!â
Sia bursts into loud laughter. Nari follows, giggling into her hands. Mingi just winks at you.
Fucking winks!
You stare at him, completely outraged, while he casually scoops both girls upâone under each arm. They squeal instantly, kicking their legs.
âDaddy!â Sia shrieks.
âAgain!â Nari laughs.
âAlright, alright,â he chuckles, already walking toward their room with the two of them in his arms. âLetâs give Mommy a break before she explodes.â
The chaos trio disappears down the hallway, their laughter echoing. And just like that, the kitchen falls quiet.
You stand there for a moment, unmoving. Then you let out a long, slow breath. Mingi is the devil.
And the fact that you kissed himâ
Yeah.
Thatâs definitely going to drag you straight to hell with him.
You tuck the girls into bed, pulling the blankets up carefully, smoothing them down the way you always do. Sia is already out cold. One second sheâs talking, the next sheâs completely goneâarms and legs sprawled in every direction, mouth slightly open, hair a wild mess across the pillow. You huff a quiet laugh, brushing a strand out of her face. Nari, on the other hand, is still awake. She lies on her side, small hands tucked under her cheek, eyes open and thoughtful in that way that always feels a little too old for her age. Quiet. Observing.
You sit down on the edge of the bed, your voice soft.
âWhatâs going on in that little head, hm?â
Nari hesitates, her fingers fidgeting with the blanket. Then she looks up at you.
ââŠMommy?â
âYeah, baby?â
She pauses again, like sheâs trying to figure out how to say it.
ââŠDid Daddy make you sad?â
The question catches you completely off guard. Your brows lift slightly. âWhy do you ask that?â
Nari tilts her head, thinking hard. âBecauseâŠâ she mumbles, her voice small, âother mommies and daddies⊠they kiss.â
She glances at you carefully.
âBut you donât wanna kiss Daddy,â she continues, very matter-of-fact, in that soft, serious tone. âSo⊠maybe you donât like him?â
For a second, you just look at her. And despite everything, something warm tugs at your chest. Sheâs so observant. So thoughtful in her own quiet way. You smile gently, reaching out to brush your thumb over her cheek.
âI do like Daddy,â you say softly. âJust⊠not in the kissy way.â
Nari studies your face, then nods slowly, like sheâs filing that away.
ââŠDid he hurt you?â
The question is quieter this time. You let out a small breath, your gaze drifting for a second before returning to her. You think about how to say itâhow much to say.
ââŠYeah,â you admit gently. âA little.â
Nariâs brows knit together. âDid he say sorry?â
You nod. âHe did.â
She goes quiet again, thinking. Really thinking. You can almost see the little gears turning in her head.
ââŠDid you forgive him?â she asks after a moment. You hesitate. Because the truth isâyou donât fully know. But you donât put that weight on her.
ââŠYeah,â you say softly.
Nari nods again, slower this time. Then she looks up at you once more, eyes wide and curious.
ââŠDid you love him? Like mommies love daddies?â
That one hits differently. For a second, you donât answer. The words catch somewhere in your chest, tangled in memories you havenât touched in a long time.
ââŠI did,â you say quietly. âA while ago⊠I loved Daddy very much.â
Nari hums, like that makes sense to her. Then she shifts a little closer into her pillow, still watching you.
ââŠCanât you just love him again?â
You canât help itâyou smile a little at that.
âI wish it worked like that,â you murmur. âBut itâs not that easy, sweetheart.â
Nari seems to think about it. Really think. Then, in the most serious, gentle little voiceâlike a tiny therapistâshe says:
âMaybe⊠your love is just hiding.â
You blink. She continues, soft and certain, like sheâs figured it out.
âMaybe it needs⊠another try.â
For a moment, you canât speak. The words settle somewhere deep, heavier than they should coming from someone so small. You swallow, your throat tight.
ââŠYeah,â you whisper finally. âMaybe.â
You pull the blanket up a little higher around her shoulders, tucking her in properly this time. Leaning down, you press a soft kiss to her forehead.
âGood night, baby,â you murmur. âI love you so much.â
Nari smiles sleepily, already drifting.
âLove you tooâŠâ
Her eyes close not long after, her breathing evening out as she slips into sleep. But you stay there for a moment longer. Because her words donât leave.
Maybe itâs just hiding.
Maybe it needs another try.
And somehow⊠they follow you long after you leave the room.
Summary: Five years ago, Mingi had to make a choiceâbetween you and his career. Back then, he chose his career, which soared rapidly afterward. Famous, beloved, celebrated all over the world. You, on the other hand, were left behindâalone, broken, and hurt. And as fate would have it, you meet again, and things take an unexpected turnâŠ
Warnings: fluff, angst,
a/n: Hi guys! Here comes Chapter 3! Oh, Iâm excited to hear your thoughts on it! I still havenât gotten around to the tag list, but Iâm taking care of it. Thanks so much for all your likes!
Chapter 3
âDaddy, youâre doing it wrong,â Nari said seriously.
âThere is no âwrongâ in creative architecture,â Mingi replied proudly, placing another block on top.
âIt fell again,â Sia pointed out.
ââŠIt is modern art,â Mingi corrected.
The girls giggled, and for a moment, everything was peaceful.
Then Sia suddenly leaned in closer, like she was carrying the most important secret in the world.
Sia nodded seriously. âMommy was talking with Auntie Mina.â
Mingi raised his eyebrows a little. âOh? And what were they talking about?â
Sia hesitated for dramatic effect. âAbout you.â
That got his attention.
Mingi paused. âMe?â
Sia nodded. âAuntie Mina asked if you still look good.â
Mingi let out a small laugh, a little surprised. âShe did?â
âAnd Mommy saidâŠâ Sia leaned even closer, lowering her voice to a whisper, ââŠyes.â
Mingi blinked.
Sia continued quickly, like she didnât want to miss a single word. âShe said you look even better now. And⊠stronger. And more broad.â
Nari gasped. âAgain with the BROAD!â
But Mingi wasnât laughing anymore.
He just sat there for a second, blinking slowly, like he wasnât sure he heard correctly.
ââŠMommy said that?â he asked quietly.
Sia nodded very confidently. âYes.â
Nari added, âShe said it like three times.â
Mingi leaned back slightly, clearly caught off guard. His ears turned a little red.
âOh,â he said softly. âI⊠didnât know that.â
For once, he didnât have a funny comeback.
Sia tilted her head.
But before he could say anything else, Sia suddenly reached out and placed her tiny hand on his forehead.
Mingi froze. âUh⊠what are you doing?â
She frowned in concentration.
Then she leaned back and said very seriously, âDaddy⊠do you have a fever?â
Mingi blinked. âWhat? Noâwhy?â
Sia looked at him with full concern. âBecause Mommy also said youâre hot.â
Silence.
Nari slowly turned her head. âOhhhhhh.â
Mingi went completely still.
ââŠShe said that?â he asked quietly.
Sia nodded again, still very serious. âSo maybe youâre sick.â
Mingi stared at her for a second, then let out a slow breath.
âThat is not⊠medical information,â he said carefully.
Nari tilted her head. âSo youâre not sick?â
âIâm not sick.â
Sia pressed her hand against his forehead again, double-checking. âHmm.â
The girls immediately went back to their blocks like nothing happened.
âAnyway,â Nari said, âyour tower is still bad.â
Mingi laughed under his breath. âYeah⊠I deserved that.â
But he didnât stop smiling for a while.
As you unlock the door, loud laughter from Sia greets you immediately, followed by Nariâs softer giggle. At the same time, you hear Mingi making exaggerated, booming noises. When you step into the living room, you find him with Nari in his arms, tossing her gently up and down while Sia clings to his leg.
A quiet laugh escapes you before you can stop it, warmth spreading through your body at the sight. And then it comesâthe sharp, familiar ache in your chest.
Because no matter how good of a father Mingi is, no matter how much the girls love him, you will never be a real family. Not the kind with a mother and a father who love each other. The kind that puts their children to bed together at night, reads them stories, cooks side by side while singing too loudly, showing their children what love is supposed to look like. That kind of picture-perfect family will never exist.
You clear your throat, making your presence known and interrupting the moment. After the girls greet you, Mingi gives you a subtle look, signaling that he wants to speak to you privately. You give a brief nod and turn to the girls.â Mom and Dad need to talk about some grown-up things. Why donât you stay here and draw for a bit?â
Then you move into the kitchen.
âSo, what is it?â you ask, beginning to unpack the groceries.
âYou work as a lawyer, right?â
âThatâs right.â
When Mingi notices you canât quite reach the top shelf, he sighs, steps closer, takes the box of cereal from your hands, and places it in the cabinet.
âIâm thinking about suing Seo-Jun.â
You freeze mid-motion.
âWhat?â you ask, blinking in disbelief. âWell, he lied to me. He betrayed me. And the amount he paid you as hush money isnât just insultingâitâs outrageous.â
You open your mouth, but no sound comes out.
âItâs not just that my children are worth more than any amount of money,â Mingi continues quietly, though the tension in his jaw is unmistakable, âitâs the way Seo-Jun âhandledâ the situation.â He emphasizes the last word.
âHe shouldnât get away with that.â
When he finishes, he looks at you intently, clearly expecting a professional opinion. But you remain rooted to the spot. Slowly, so you donât look completely stunned, you close your mouth again.
As much as you hate Mingiâhate the way he treated you back thenâyou never expected this from him. The way he handles the situation now, the way he shows up for the childrenâŠ
It unsettles you.
âIâll look into it,â you say quietly, avoiding his gaze. âI can ask a colleague who might have dealt with similar cases.â
No. There is no way Mingi is finding his way back into your heart. You turn away, exhaling slowly, tension tight in your chest.
But Mingi isn't finished with you yet. There's one more thing he'd like to address.
âSo you think Iâm still hot?â
You close the cabinet a little harder than necessary, taking a slow breath as if that might steady you. It doesnât. Behind you, you hear him shift, pushing off the kitchen counter.
ââHot,â huh?â Mingi repeats amused.
You freeze for half a secondâbarely noticeable, but enough. Then you turn, expression composed. âYouâre misinformed.â
âMhm.â He nods like heâs taking that very seriously. âStrange. Because Iâm pretty sure I heard it from a very reliable source.â
You cross your arms. âTwo small children who still believe dinosaurs live under their beds are not a reliable source.â
He huffs out a quiet laugh, stepping a little closer. Not enough to crowd youâjust enough to be there.
âThey seemed very confident,â he says. âDetailed, too.â
You roll your eyes. âIâm sure they added their own dramatic interpretation.â
âDid they also invent the part where you said I look better now?â he asks, tilting his head slightly.
You open your mouthâthen close it again.
Heat creeps up your neck despite yourself.
âI donât recall saying anything like that.â
âConvenient,â Mingi murmurs.
Thereâs a brief silence. Thenâ
âAnd stronger?â he adds.
You grab a random item from the counter, focusing on it like it suddenly requires your full attention. âYouâve been working out. Itâs⊠observable.â
âObservable,â he repeats, amused. âWow. That almost sounded like a compliment.â
âIt wasnât.â
âRight.â
Another step closer. Subtle. Deliberate.
âAnd âbroadâ?â he continues, voice quieter now, just a hint of a grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. âThat one came up multiple times, apparently.â
You let out a short breath through your nose. âIf youâre done interrogating meââ
âIâm not,â he cuts in, lightly.
Of course he isnât.
You finally look at him properlyâand immediately regret it.
Thereâs something in his expression now. Not just teasing. Sharper. Warmer. Familiar in a way you donât want to name.
âAnd then,â he adds, almost thoughtfully, âthere was the part about me being âhot.ââ
âOh my god,â you mutter under your breath, turning away again. âThis is ridiculous.â
âIs it?â he asks softly.
You feel him step closer again. This time, itâs harder to ignore.
âYou always were honest about that kind of thing,â he continues, voice dropping just enough to make your pulse trip. âBack then.â
You go very still.
âThat was a long time ago,â you say, controlled.
âMhm.â A pause. Then, quieter: âDidnât sound like it.â
Your grip tightens slightly around the edge of the counter.
He exhales, almost like heâs choosing his next words carefullyâexcept he doesnât really.
âBesides,â Mingi adds, a trace of a smirk returning, âif I remember correctly⊠you werenât exactly subtle when you liked something.â
Your head snaps toward him. âMingiââ
âWhat?â he says lightly, lifting his hands in mock innocence. âIâm just saying. You had very⊠clear ways of expressing approval.â
Your face burns now, unmistakably.
âThatâs enough.â
âIs it?â His voice softens, but he doesnât step back. âBecause I distinctly remember you being a lot lessââ
âStop.â
The word lands sharper this time.
A beat of silence.
Your breathing is steady, but only just.
Mingi studies you for a moment. Really studies you. The color in your cheeks, the tension in your shoulders, the way you refuse to fully meet his eyes.
And thenâjust slightlyâhis expression shifts.
Not gone, the teasing. Just quieter.
ââŠAlright,â he says after a moment.
But he doesnât move away immediately.
âStill,â he adds, softer now, almost under his breath, âgood to know some things didnât change.â
You donât answer.
You just turn back to the counter, pretending to focus on somethingâanythingâelse.
But the warmth hasnât faded.
And neither has the way heâs looking at you.
Damn Song Mingi, that charming bastard, still manages to get under your skin even after five years.
While Mingi is busy working on a puzzle with Nari, Yeosang, San, and Yunho are sitting on the floor with Sia, fully committed to a very serious Barbie session. Meanwhile, Wooyoung and Hongjoong are in the kitchenâwell, Wooyoung is actually cooking, and Hongjoong is⊠enthusiastically supervising with zero interest.
Mingi keeps having to bite back a grin every time he glances over at his bandmates, all of them holding Barbies like itâs the most normal thing in the world. But then again, Sia is Siaâbossing everyone around like a tiny general, telling them exactly how the game is supposed to go. And when San dares to marry off his doll to a different Ken? Sia is this close to a full-blown meltdown.
Nari, much quieter and shyer than Sia, leans against Mingi, completely focused on the puzzle in front of her.
âWait, why is this doll called Mister Potato Head again?â Yeosang asks, holding it up right in front of Siaâs face. She immediately bursts into giggles. Even Nari looks up and joins in.
âBecauseââ Sia shakes with laughter, and the three guys in front of her start laughing too, ââbecause he looks like that guy Mommy went on a date with once!â
San nearly chokes laughing, and Sia cackles right along with him. Mingi canât help but smile tooâbut something else creeps into his chest. Jealousy? Again? He knows he has no claim on you, none at all⊠but the thought of you with another man leaves a weird, uncomfortable knot in his stomach.
âHis head was this bigâlike a potato!â Sia explains, making a huge circle around her head with her tiny arms.
âAnd he had giant ears,â Nari adds, shooting her dad a cheeky look.
Yeosang, Yunho, and San listen in rapt attention as the tiny performer delivers what might as well be an Oscar-worthy reenactment.
âAnd he kept staring at Mommy like thisââ Sia widens her eyes dramatically and juts her head forward. San is doubled over, clutching his stomach.
âAnd when she turned around, he kept staring at her butt!â Sia gigglesâonly for the laughter to abruptly die down.
âWell, to be fair, your mommy does have a pretty hotââ Yunho starts dryly, but Mingi cuts him off instantly.
âYunho!â he growls, shooting him a warning look while glancing between Sia and Nari.
Sia has already calmed down and sits cross-legged again. But then Sia suddenly gasps.
All heads snap toward her.
âWhat?â San asks immediately, already suspicious.
Sia points dramatically across the room.
âI saw something.â
Mingi freezes. âWhy does that sound like a threatâŠâ
Sia slowly turns her head⊠and points straight at him.
âDaddy!â
The room goes silent.
Yeosang leans forward. âOh, this is gonna be good.â
âWhat did I do?!â Mingi asks, already defensive.
Sia narrows her eyes. âYou were looking at Mommy.â
Mingi blinks. ââŠOkay??â
âNo,â Sia says, shaking her head. âNot normal looking.â
Yunho immediately turns to Mingi with a grin. San slaps a hand over his mouth.
âOh noâŠâ Yeosang whispers.
âI was justâlooking!â Mingi stammers. âNormal looking!â
Sia steps forward, fully in detective mode. âNo. You were like thisââ
She leans forward slightly, squints, and then slowly turns her head like sheâs following something very specific.
Yunho CHOKES. âOH MYââ
âI did NOTââ Mingi starts, face already turning red.
âAnd then,â Sia continues, raising a finger, âyou didnât even blink.â
San collapses sideways, laughing. âThatâs so detailedââ
âI DID BLINK!â Mingi protests.
Nari glances up from her puzzle. âYou didnât.â Mingi looks at her, betrayed. âYou too?!â Sia crosses her arms, looking very serious.
âButâŠâ she says slowly.
The room quiets again.
ââŠitâs okay.â
Mingi pauses. ââŠIt is?â
The other three men turn toward her, confused.
Sia nods wisely. âYes. Because youâre Daddy.â
A beat.
ââŠWhat?â Yunho says. His voice way too high.
âDaddys are allowed to look at mommys like that,â Sia explains confidently. âThatâs the rule.â
Sia nods, very sure of herself. âYes. Itâs allowed. But only for you.â
She suddenly spins around and points at the others.
âYou? Not allowed.â
San clutches his chest. âWow. Targeted.â
âDiscrimination,â Yunho mutters.
Mingi runs a hand through his hair, face burning. âCan we please stop talking about thisââ
âNo,â San says immediately, grinning. âI think we should explore this further.â
Yunho nods. âYeah, explain the rules again, Sia.â
Sia happily obliges, counting on her fingers. âRule one: Only Daddy.â
She points at Mingi.
âRule two: No weird faces.â
She glares at San.
âI didnât make a face!â
âYou did,â Nari says calmly.
âRule three,â Sia continues, ignoring him, âMommy is always pretty.â
âThat oneâs just factual,â Yeosang nods.
Mingi groans. âIâm never recovering from thisâŠâ
Sia pats his arm reassuringly. âItâs okay, Daddy. You followed the rules.â
San wipes a tear from his eye. âI canât believe you just got approved by a Four-year-oldâŠâ
âBest day of your life,â Yunho adds.
When you pick up the girls from the dorm, Mingi opens the door. You give him a quick smile and step into the big entrance hall. Youâre wearing a tight jeans and a lose Shirt. When he suddenly stops walking, you turn around and shoot him a questioning look. His eyes immediately dart up to the ceiling like itâs the most fascinating thing he has ever seen. You have absolutely no idea whatâs going on with himâand honestly, you donât even want to know. All you want is to grab the twins, go home, and collapse into bed.
You greet the rest of the band politely and help the girls put on their jackets. As usual, Nariâs zipper gets stuck, so you bend forward a little to fix it. Behind you stand San, Yunho, Yeosang, and Mingiâwho, after a few seconds, realizes that they are all very obviously staring at your butt.
âŠuntil Sia suddenly shoots them a deadly glare, shakes her head, and silently mouths a very clear, very dramatic: âNO.â
At that exact moment, you turn around, ready to thank the guys. Instantly, every single one of them looks in a completely different direction. One is suddenly fascinated by the floor, another studies the ceiling like itâs modern art, and someone else inspects the sofa as if it holds the secrets of the universe.
They are acting really weird today, you think.
âOkaaaayâŠâ you say, dragging the word out suspiciously long. âWeâre gonna head out now.â
You turn to Mingi, who is still staring at his bandmates like theyâve personally betrayed him. âThanks, Mingi.â
He snaps out of it, shakes his head quickly, and gives you a smileâwhich you do not return, because something here is definitely off.
As soon as the door clicks shut behind you, life slowly returns to the room.
âDamn, Mingi, sheâs still got a nice ass!â San says, leaning against him with his arms crossed like he just made a profound observation.
âI totally get Mister Potato Head now,â Yunho adds, nodding sagely like this is a deep philosophical realization.
âââ
Mingi shows up unannounced. Of course he does. You barely get the door open before heâs already stepping into your space, holding up a small, worn-out stuffed monkey like itâs some kind of sacred artifact.
âSia forgot this,â he says, a crooked smile already in place. âThought Iâd drop it off before I disappear for four days.â
You glance at the toy, then at him.
âAnd knocking like a normal person was too much effort?â
He leans against the doorframe, completely unbothered. âWhereâs the fun in that?â
You take the monkey from him, brushing past his hand without lingering. âYouâre here. You dropped it off. You can go.â
But he doesnât move. Naturally.
Instead, he studies you for a moment, that annoyingly familiar look creeping inâthe one that says heâs about to be insufferable.
âSo,â he starts, casual, too casual. âYou still going out with⊠what was his name?â
You donât even look at him. âWho?â
âMister Potato Head,â he says immediately, like heâs been waiting for this.
You freeze for half a second. Sia told him. Then you scoff. âHe has a name.â
âDoes he?â Mingi pushes off the wall, stepping a little closer.
You turn to face him now, arms crossing. âHeâs a coworker.â
âMm.â He hums, slow, deliberate. âAnd you went on a date with him.â
âOnce.â
âAnd?â
You raise a brow. âAnd what?â
âAnd are you going again?â he asks, like itâs nothing. Like he has any right to ask. You hold his gaze for a second too long.
Then you shrug. âNo.â
That catches him off guardâjust slightly.
âNo?â he repeats.
âNo,â you say flatly. âBecause Iâm not interested.â
âSure,â Mingi says, voice low, almost amused. âHas no idea what heâs missing.â
You narrow your eyes at him. âDonât.â
âWhat?â he grins. âIâm just sayingââ
âYouâre saying nothing,â you cut in, stepping past him toward the living room. âYou dropped off the monkey. You can leave now.â
But he follows. Of course he does.
âYou know,â he continues, hands in his pockets like heâs got all the time in the world, âI could take you out again.â
You stop. Slowly turn your head.
ââŠExcuse me?â
He shrugs, cocky as ever. âYou heard me.â
A short laugh escapes you. âThatâs not happening.â
âWhy not?â he asks, stepping closer again. âYouâve got no date, Iâve got a few free hours before I leaveââ
You shake your head, cutting him off. âBecause Iâm not interested and I would rather kill myself.â
âOh, wow, thanks for that.â
Thereâs a beat. Then he tilts his head, studying you, that smirk softening just a fraction. âYou sure about that?â
You scoff, turning awayâ
And thatâs when you see it.
On the wall. Too big. Too real. Moving.
Your entire body locks.
Nope.
Absolutely not.
A sharp, involuntary scream tears out of you.
ââAH!â
You donât think. You donât plan. You just react. One second youâre across the roomâ
The next, youâre slamming into Mingi, hands clutching his shirt as you practically jump into him, stumbling forward and grabbing on like your life depends on it.
âMingiâ!â
He staggers back, completely caught off guard. âWhoaâheyâ!â
Your grip tightens instantly, fingers digging into him, body pressed close as you shove your face against his chest.
âNope. Nope. Nope.â
âWhat happenedâ?!â
You shake your head, breath quick, heart racing. âNope.â
âThatâs not helpfulââ
âThere!â
He finally glances past youâ and freezes.
ââŠYouâre kidding.â
âKill it,â you say immediately, voice tight as you cling harder. âKill it now!â
âItâs not that bigââ
âMingi!â
Something in your tone makes him stop joking. For once.
He exhales, one hand settling instinctively at your waist to steady you, the other hovering like heâs deciding whether to peel you off or not. He doesnât. And thatâs when it hits.
Youâre really close.
Your hands fisted in his shirt. Your body pressed against his. His arm firm around you, holding you in place like itâs the most natural thing in the world.
And his hand. Lower now.
Resting at your hip.
No.
Not your hip.
Lower.
Exactly where it used to linger without permission, without hesitation, like it belonged there anymore.
Your breath stutters.
For a second, neither of you moves.
Then slowlyâ You lift your head. Your eyes meet. And everything shifts.
The panic fades just enough for something else to take its placeâsomething warmer, heavier, electric. Mingiâs expression isnât teasing anymore.
Itâs⊠different.
His gaze flicks over your face, slower now, more deliberate, like heâs remembering every inch of you without needing to touch.
âYou still hate spiders?â he murmurs, voice quieter.
Your throat feels dry.
âYes.â
âGood to know,â he says, but he doesnât sound like heâs talking about the spider anymore. Your fingers tighten in his shirt.
His hand doesnât move. If anythingâIt presses in just slightly. Enough to make your pulse jump. Your head is still against his chest, close enough to feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Or maybe thatâs yours. Everything feels too loud.
Too warm.
Too familiar.
You swallow, trying to regain control.
This is a bad idea.
A very bad idea.
You clear your throat, forcing your hands to loosen, stepping back before you forget how.
âIâm fine,â you say quickly, brushing your hair back like nothing just happened. Like your heart isnât racing.
Mingi doesnât let go immediately. Of course he doesnât. He watches you, something unreadable in his eyes.
Then, slowly, his smirk returnsâbut itâs different now. Less cocky. More⊠dangerous. âFive years,â he says quietly. âAnd you still end up right here.â
Ugh, that smug bastard.
You lift your chin, forcing yourself back into that cool, distant version of you. âDonât flatter yourself.â
He steps closer anyway. Just enough to close the space again.
âIâm not,â he murmurs. âJust pointing out a pattern.â Your pulse betrays you. You turn away before he can see it.
âJust kill the spider, Mingi.â
He huffs a quiet laugh, already moving toward the wallâbut his gaze lingers on you for a second longer than it should.
âOh, I will,â he says. âBut I might start bringing one with me.â You donât look at him.
âTry it,â you warn. âAnd Iâll make sure the twins hear every embarrassing story youâve ever told me.â
He chuckles, completely unfazed.
The air still crackles.
Like somethingâs not finished.
Like it never was.
A beat passes.
You cross your arms. âYou can go now.â Mingi doesnât move. Instead, he just tilts his head, watching you like heâs got nowhere else to be.
ââŠSeriously?â you add, raising a brow.
âMm,â he hums. âIn a second.â
You stare at him. âNo. Now.â
âRelax,â he says lightly, finally pushing off the wallâbut instead of heading straight for the door, he takes his time. Slow steps. No urgency whatsoever.
You follow him immediately. Not because you want to. Obviously.
Just to make sure he actually leaves.
âShoes,â you mutter as he drags things out, grabbing them and nudging them toward him with your foot. âDoor. Exit. Goodbye.â
âWow,â he says, slipping them on at the speed of a dying snail. âYou always this hospitable?â
âOnly with unwanted guests.â
âThat hurts.â
âGood.â
He smirksâand finally heads for the door.
You move ahead of him, grabbing the handle and pulling it open like youâre personally escorting him out of your life.
âOut,â you say, gesturing.
Mingi steps forwardâ
âand then just⊠stops.
Right in the doorway.
You blink. âWhy are you not moving?â
âI am moving,â he says calmly.
âYouâre standing still.â
âIâm building momentum.â
You stare at him. âI will push you.â
He glances down at you, amused. âYou could try.â You step closer. Close enough to actually shove him if necessary. âDonât test me.â For a second, neither of you moves.
Then his expression shiftsâjust slightly.
Less teasing. More intent.
ââŠYouâre really not coming?â he asks.
Your brows knit together. âComing where?â
âMy concert,â he says, like itâs obvious. Like this has been the conversation all along.
You let out a short, disbelieving laugh. âWeâre doing this again? Right now?â
âWe didnât finish it,â he shrugs.
âWe did. I said no.â
You stand with your arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe like a judge about to deliver a life sentence. Mingi stands opposite of you, way too relaxed for someone clearly on losing the side of the argument.
âThey are four,â you say slowly. âFOUR.â
âI know how old my kids are,â he shoots back immediately.
You narrow your eyes. âGood. Then act like it.â
âThey love music,â he argues. âThey love my music.â
âThey also love eating crayons,â you reply. âThat does not qualify them for a concert.â
He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. âItâs not just a concert. Itâs important to me that they see it. That they see⊠this part of my life.â
Something in your expression flickersâjust for a second.
You cross your arms tighter. âThey see you. Thatâs enough.â
âItâs my concert,â he insists. âI will be there. I can literally see them.â
âYou will not see them,â you counter. âYou will be on stage, jumping around, screaming into a microphone while thousands of people lose their minds.â
He pauses. ââŠOkay, that part is accurate, but stillââ
Thereâs a beat. Too quiet. Too honest.
You look away first.
âNo,â you say, more quietly now. âItâs too loud, too late, too much.â
âIâll get them backstage.â
âNo.â
âVIP area.â
âNo.â
âIâll hold their juice boxes the entire time.â
ââŠWhat kind of juice boxes?â
His lips twitch. âThe good ones. With the little straws.â
You almost smile.
Almost.
You hesitate for half a second. His face brightens. âThat was a hesitation!â
âThat was not a hesitation,â you snap. âThat was me questioning your parenting influence.â
âThey already packed tiny backpacks,â he tries again. âWith snacks. And Sia packed a spoon. I donât know why, but it felt important.â
You press your lips together to stop a smile.
âNo. Absolutely not. End of discussion.â
Right then, you hear it.
Slow. Familiar. Inevitable footsteps.
Oh no.
You straighten instantly. Mingi notices and turns just as Mrs. Hiung appears around the corner like a matchmaking ghost.
âAh!â she says, eyes lighting up. âThere you are! I was just telling my Gunwoo that you would make such a lovelyââ
Not today. Not again. Not Gunwoo, her weird son, with his model trains and his collection of⊠dolls.
Before your brain can fully process it, your survival instincts kick in.
You smile brightly. Recklessly. âMrs. Hiung! Perfect timing. Iâd like you to meet my boyfriend.â
Mingiâs head snaps toward you. âYourâwhat?â
You squeeze his hand.
âBoyfriend,â you repeat sweetly.
Mrs. Hiung blinks. âBoyfriend? But what aboutââ
âWell,â you cut in quickly. âWe⊠found our way back to each other.â That lands.
Mingi goes very still.
ââŠBack?â he echoes quietly.
You donât look at him. âYes. Even after everything that happened.â Mrs. Hiung looks between you, confused but intrigued. âOh! A second chance! How romantic. And the children?â
Mingi lets out a small breathâthen something shifts. He steps closer.
âTheyâre ours,â he says, voice calm now. Certain. Your heart stumbles.
Mrs. Hiung gasps. âYours?â
âYes,â you say, before you can lose your nerve. âWe just⊠needed time.â
Thereâs a pause. Mrs. Hiung looks between you, clearly recalculating her entire matchmaking strategy.
âAnd,â you continue, committing fully to the bit, âheâs amazing with the twins. They always loved him.â
You turn your head and, before you can overthink it, press a quick kiss to his cheek.
Thereâs a beat of silence. Mingi blinks once. Twice.
Thenâoh noâthat grin appears.
The one that means trouble. Your eyes widen slightly. Careful.
He does not, in fact, choose careful. He puts his arm around your waist and gives Mrs. Hiung a convincing smile. His hand slidesâjust slightlyâlower. Right on your ass again. You inhale sharply. Just to really top it all off, he gives you a light smack on the ass. You flinch ever so slightly, teeth clenched behind that perfectly polished smile.
Mrs. Hiung gasps.
Mingi, fully committed now, looks at her with mock sincerity. âWeâre working on having another one.â
You elbow him hard in the ribs without breaking your smile.
âAbsolutely,â you say through gritted teeth.
Mrs. Hiung straightens, scandalized. âWell. I⊠I had no idea. Gunwoo will be⊠surprised.â
âYes,â you say quickly. âPlease tell Gunwoo⊠hello.â
She gives Mingi one last suspicious look, then turns and shuffles away, muttering to herself.
The moment she disappears around the corner, you slap his hand from your ass.
âWhat,â you say slowly, âwas that?â He looks completely unbothered. âMethod acting.â
âYou put your hand on myââ
âYou kissed me first.â
âThat was strategic!â
âSo was that,â he shoots back, grinning. You stare at him, trying very hard not to laugh.
It almost works.
âDonât get used to it,â you warn.
âToo late,â he says. âI think Mrs. Hiung already picked out our wedding china.â
You groan, covering your face.
He nudges you lightly. âSo⊠about the concert?â
You drop your hands and glare at him again.
ââŠI hate that this is working,â you mutter.
His grin widens.
The car ride already feels wrong.
Too close.
Too full.
Too him.
You sit in the backseat, arms wrapped around yourself, staring out the window like you could disappear into the passing lights if you tried hard enough. The city blurs into streaks of neon and shadow, and every second that brings you closer to the venue makes your stomach twist tighter.
You shouldnât be here.
You know that.
Mingi in your life is already too much.
Mingi in your home.
Mingi around the girls.
Thatâs one thing. But this?
This is his world. The one he chose over you.
The one that took him away.
And now youâre driving straight into it.
You swallow hard, your throat dry, your fingers digging into your sleeves.
You could tell the driver to stop.
You could open the door.
You could leave. But then you glance at the girls. Their eyes are shining. Practically glowing. âAre we really going to see him?â one of them whispers, barely containing her excitement.
And just like thatâ You stay.
The arena is massive. Too massive.
The lights, the noise, the peopleâit hits you all at once the moment you step out of the car. Your chest tightens instantly, breath catching like the air is suddenly too thin.
You donât belong here. A shadow falls beside you.
âStay close,â a deep voice rumbles.
You look up.
And up.
And up.
Li, Mingis Bodyguard.
Heâs enormous. Broad shoulders, arms like solid stone, his expression unreadable but alert. He doesnât askâhe simply gestures, and you follow.
Because what else are you going to do?
He leads you through corridors that smell like electricity and metal and something sharpâlike anticipation itself. The noise grows louder the deeper you go, a distant roar that vibrates in your bones.
Backstage.
He opens a door.
âThis area,â he says, voice low. âSafe.â
You nod, even though nothing about this feels safe. Inside, itâs quieter.
Not silentâbut manageable.
You exhale, just a little.
The girls run ahead immediately, eyes wide, taking everything in like itâs magic.
And Mingiâ
Heâs already thought of everything.
Juice boxes. Snacks.
Even toys scattered neatly on a small table.
You stare at it all, something heavy settling in your chest. He really did it. He meant it.
And somehow that makes it worse.
Then the intro starts. It hits like a wave.
A wall of sound crashing through the space, even here, even backstage. The bass vibrates through the floor, up your legs, straight into your chest.
You freeze.
No.
No, noâ This is too much.
The screams followâthousands of voices rising at once, sharp and electric, filled with something you donât want to name.
The screen lights up.
Him.
Mingi.
Larger than life.
Too real. Too alive.
Your breath stutters. You canât.
You canât do this.
âI needââ Your voice cracks. âI need to go.â
The girls donât even hear you. Theyâre already completely absorbed, eyes glued to the screen, faces lit with awe.
Of course they are.
You turn to Li, your voice barely holding together. âCan youâcan you watch them? Just for a bit?â
He looks down at you. Studies you.
Then gives a short, approving grunt.
âGo.â
Thatâs all you need.
You donât walk.
You rush.
Out of the room, down the hallway, away from the sound that feels like itâs tearing something open inside you. The noise follows you at firstâechoing, chasing, pressing inâbut the further you get, the softer it becomes. Duller.
Manageable.
You push through a set of doors and suddenly: Air. Space. Quiet.
Not silence.
But enough.
The entrance hall stretches wide, almost empty compared to the chaos inside. The music is muffled here, reduced to a distant thrum, like a heartbeat you can finally ignore. You stumble toward a bench and drop onto it, your hands trembling as you press them against your face.
What are you doing?
How did you let this happen?
Your breathing comes uneven, too fast, too shallow. You force yourself to slow down, to inhale deeplyâbut your chest still feels tight.
Donât cry. Not here. Not now.
You swallow hard, blinking rapidly, trying to get a gripâ
âHey.â
The voice is soft. Careful.
You look up. And for a second, you forget to breathe. Heâs⊠good-looking.
Not in the overwhelming, larger-than-life way Mingi is. But in a quiet, grounded way.
Warm eyes. Gentle expression.
The kind of face that feels⊠safe.
âAre you okay?â he asks.
You nod quickly. Too quickly. âYeah. Justâyeah.â
A weak smile tugs at your lips. He doesnât seem convinced, but he doesnât push.
âConcert a bit much?â he asks, sitting down beside you with a small sigh.
You let out a breath you didnât realize you were holding. âYou could say that.â
He chuckles lightly, rubbing the back of his neck. âMy daughters are in there. Teenagers. Completely losing their minds.â He gestures vaguely toward the arena. âI donât get it at all.â You almost laugh.
âMine really wanted to come,â you admit quietly. âI⊠didnât.â
âSame,â he says with a small grin. âAlsoâno offenseâbut itâs kind ofâŠâ He gestures, searching for the word. âIntense.â
âThatâs one way to put it,â you murmur.
âAnd sexy,â he adds, lowering his voice conspiratorially. That makes you snort.
Actually snort. And for the first time since arriving, you feel something loosen in your chest.
âI guess thatâs part of the appeal,â you say.
He glances at you, something warm flickering in his eyes. âGuess so.â
Thereâs a pause.
You lean back slightly, letting your head rest against the wall behind you.
And for a second, everything feels⊠simple.
No history.
No tension.
No Mingi.
Just a conversation.
With someone who looks at you like youâre not complicated. Not tied to anything heavy.
Just⊠you. Maybe Mina was right.
Just because Mingi is back in your lifeâ
Doesnât mean everything has to revolve around him. Doesnât mean you stop living.
Doesnât mean you stop⊠feeling something new. You glance at the man beside you.
At his kind smile.
At his eyesâreally nice eyes. And something shifts. Small. Uncertain. But real.
The backstage area is still buzzing when Mingi finally steps in. The adrenaline hasnât left his system yet. Sweat clings lightly to his skin, his heartbeat still in sync with the echo of the crowdâs roar. Everything is loud, bright and alive.
He stops.
Right in the doorway. Because the sight in front of him is so absurd, it almost breaks him.
Li. The massive, immovable wall of a man.
Sitting on a small folding chair that looks like it might collapse under him at any second.
Sia perched on one side, happily sipping from a juice box. Nari on the other, quietly munching on cookies like this is the most normal thing in the world.
And Li?
Holding a juice box himself. Drinking from it.
Completely serious. Mingi presses his lips together. He tries. He really tries.
But the image is justâ
Too much.
A small, strangled sound escapes him. Li glances up. Their eyes meet. Li doesnât react. Doesnât blink. Just takes another sip.
Mingi loses it.
A breathy laugh slips out, followed by a quiet shake of his head. âWhat⊠is happening here?â
Thatâs all it takes.
âDaddy!â
The girls spot him instantly.
They launch themselves at him. Mingi barely has time to brace before they crash into him, arms wrapping around his legs, voices overlapping in excited chaos.
âYou were so cool!â
âYou were so loud!â
âI liked the lights!â
âI didnât like the smoke!â
He laughs, dropping down to one knee to meet them halfway, hands automatically going to steady them.
âHey, heyâslow down,â he grins, brushing hair out of Siaâs face. âYou trying to knock me over?â
Sia beams at him. âWatch this!â she announces, stepping back immediately.
She actually tries to copy his choreography.
Itâs⊠not quite right.
Not even close.
But sheâs so serious about it, so determined, that Mingiâs chest tightens for an entirely different reason.
âThatâs my move?â he teases gently.
âYes!â she insists, completely convinced.
Meanwhile, Nari doesnât say a word.
She just clings to him. Small hands gripping his shirt, face pressed against his side.
Mingiâs expression softens instantly. One arm wraps around her without thinking, pulling her closer, grounding himself just as much as her.
âYeah,â he murmurs quietly, more to himself than anyone else. âThatâs my move.â
It hits him. His gaze flicks up. Around the room.
Once.
Twice.
Youâre not there. His smile fades, just slightly. âWhere is she?â he asks, looking at Li. Li doesnât speak. Doesnât explain.
He just tilts his head toward the exit.
And gives Mingi a look. A look that says enough. Mingi straightens slowly.
ââŠGot it.â
Something shifts. The humorâs gone now.
Replaced with something sharper. Uneasy.
He ruffles Siaâs hair gently, then presses a quick kiss to Nariâs head. âStay here, yeah?â
âWhere are you going?â Sia asks immediately. âJust checking something.â
He glances at Li. âYou good with them?â
Li doesnât answer. He just grabs another juice box. Nods once.
Mingi huffs out a quiet breath. âIâll take that as a yes.â And then heâs moving.
The hallway feels longer now. Too long.
His steps are quick, uneven, his mind racing ahead of him.
Why arenât you there?
Why did you leave?
Did something happen?
Did heâ
He exhales sharply, dragging a hand through his hair.
He rounds the corner into the main hallâ
And then he sees you. Across the space.
Standing with someone.
A man.
Not just any man.
A good-looking one.
Clean. Put together. Easy smile.
And youâ
Youâre smiling back.
Relaxed.
Soft. Like you havenât been suffocating for the last hour. Like this place didnât nearly break you.
Mingi stops walking. Just watches.
As you laugh quietly at something the man says. As you reach outâand shake his hand.
âTake care,â the man says, voice warm.
âYou too,â you reply.
Still smiling.
Then you turn and you see Mingi.
Your expression lights up instantly. You walk toward him, heels clicking sharply against the floorâsteady, confident, completely at ease. Too at ease.
Mingi doesnât move. Doesnât say anything.
Just stands there, watching you approach like heâs trying to understand something that doesnât make sense anymore.
You close the distanceâ
Almost run straight into him.
âWhoaââ
You stop just in time, laughing lightly, like this is all completely normal. Like nothingâs off. Like heâs not standing there completely thrown. You reach up and pat his shoulder casually.
âHey,â you grin. âGreat concert.â
Mingi blinks.
His eyes flick briefly past youâback to where the man stood just seconds ago.
Then back to you. His brow lifts slowly.
A silent question. A dozen unspoken ones.
ââŠYeah?â he says finally, voice lower now.
Different. Something tight under it.
âYeah,â you say easily. âCrowd loved you.â
His gaze lingers on your face. Too long.
Too searching. There it is. That feeling.
Sharp. Familiar. Unwelcome.
Jealousy. Again.
He exhales through his nose, one corner of his mouth twitching upânot quite a smile.
âLooks like you had a good time too,â he murmurs. Your eyes narrow slightly. You know that tone.
âOh?â you shoot back lightly. âJealous?â
Big mistake.
Because now he smirks. Slow. Dangerous.
âShould I be?â
And just like thatâ
The tension is back.
Stronger than before.
Mingiâs smirk lingers for half a second too long. You two go back to the backstage area.
Your eyes narrow, your posture shiftingâsubtle, but enough.
âMaybe you should worry more about your performance than what Iâm doing,â you shoot back lightly, but thereâs an edge now.
He lets out a short, humorless laugh. âOh, I think I did just fine.â
âI didnât say you didnât.â
âNo, you justââ he gestures vaguely behind you, toward where the man had been ââwalk out in the middle of it and start flirting with the first guy you see.â
Your head snaps back slightly.
ââŠExcuse me?â
âDonât play dumb,â Mingi says, voice dropping, tight. âI saw you.â
You blink at him, disbelief flooding your face. âYou saw me⊠talking.â
âOh yeah,â he scoffs. âLooked like a very meaningful conversation.â
Your jaw tightens. âAre you serious right now?â
âI brought you here,â he continues, heat rising in his tone. âFor the girls. For usâand you canât even stay five minutes without running off andââ
âAnd what?â you cut in sharply, stepping closer. âGo on. Finish that sentence.â
His eyes flash. âAnd entertain yourself with someone else instead of being there for your kids.â
That hits.
Hard.
Your breath catches for a second, then your expression shifts completely. Cold.
âWow,â you say slowly. âThatâs a bold statement coming from you.â
Mingi straightens. âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â
You laughâbut thereâs no humor in it. âYou really want to go there? Right now?â
âYeah,â he shoots back immediately. âI do.â
Your temper snaps.
âFine,â you spit. âLetâs go there.â
His jaw sets. âFinally.â
You step closer, voice rising despite yourself. âYou donât get to stand here and accuse me of anything, Mingi.â
âOh, I donât?â he fires back, stepping into your space. âBecause from where Iâm standing, it looks like youâd rather flirt with strangers than be with your own kids at something that actually mattersââ
Your mouth drops open. âAre you out of your mind?!â
âAt least I showed up,â he snaps.
The words hang for a split secondâ
âand then detonate.
Your expression changes instantly.
All the anger sharpens into something raw.
âShowed up?â you repeat, voice rising. âShowed up?!â
Mingi doesnât back down. âYeah.â
You let out a disbelieving laugh, shaking your head. âYou mean tonight at your own fucking concert? Congratulations, Mingi, do you want a medal?â
His eyes darken. âThatâs not fair.â
âFair?â you almost shout. âYou want to talk about fair?!â
Now youâre both too loud. Too close. Too far gone.
âYou disappeared for years!â you continue, your voice breaking through the control you were trying to hold onto. âYou left meâand now youâre standing here acting like Iâm the one whoâs doing something wrong because I talked to someone for five minutes?!â
âI didnât just leave,â he argues, frustration boiling over. âYou know thatâs not what happenedââ
âOh, Iâm sorry,â you cut him off sharply. âWhat would you call it then? Because from my side it looked exactly like that.â
His hands run through his hair, agitated. âYouâre still holding onto thatââ
âOf course I am!â you snap. âYou donât just get to walk back into my life, into our home, into everythingâand expect me to just forget!â
âIâm not asking you to forget,â he shoots back. âIâm asking you to stop acting like nothing I do now matters!â
âIt doesnât erase what you did!â you fire back immediately.
âAnd what about what youâre doing right now?â he counters. âRunning off, smiling at some random guy likeââ
âLike what?!â you shout. âLike Iâm allowed to talk to someone who actually stayed in the room?!â
The words hit harder than you expected.
For both of you.
Your chest rises and falls sharply. You go lower. Quieter. Deadlier.
âIt didnât matter to you five years ago either,â you say, voice cutting. âHow I felt. What I went through.â
Mingi freezes. For real this time.
His eyes widen slightly.
âWhat are youââ
âYou werenât there,â you continue, bitterness bleeding through every word. âYou didnât care. Not then. Not when it actually mattered.â
Something in him snaps.
âI didnât know!â he explodes suddenly, voice louder than before, raw in a way youâve never heard it. âI didnât know you were pregnantâif I had knownââ
âExactly,â you cut in immediately, voice sharp and bitter. âYou didnât know.
Your eyes lock with his. Cold. Unforgiving.
âBecause you didnât care enough to find out.â
That lands.
Hard.
His mouth opensâ
Closes.
You donât let him recover.
âBecause I didnât matter,â you continue, quieter nowâbut worse. âI didnât matter to you then. So you donât get to stand here now and act like you suddenly have the right to question me.â
Mingiâs breathing is uneven now.
His hands clench at his sides.
âYou donât get to make a scene,â you finish, voice steady despite everything burning inside you. âNot after that.â
The silence that follows is heavy.
Movement.
Sia and Nari.
Theyâve gone completely quiet.
Standing just a few steps away, eyes wide, confusion replacing excitement.
Your chest drops. Mingi sees it too.
Before either of you can say anythingâ
A massive hand clamps onto each of your arms. Firm. Unmovable.
Li.
He steps between you effortlessly, pulling both of you apart like itâs nothing.
His voice is low. Calm. But thereâs no room for argument.
âNot in front of the children.â
Thatâs it. No yelling. No lecture. Just that.
And it lands.
Harder than anything you or Mingi said to each other.
You both stop immediately. Like someone hit a switch.
Your breathing is still heavy, your heart still racingâbut the fight drains out of the space just as fast as it came.
You nod first.
âRight,â you murmur, swallowing hard.
Mingi nods too, jaw tight. ââŠYeah.â
Neither of you pulls away from where Li is still holding you for a second longer than necessary.
Grounding.
Humbling.
Then he releases you.
The silence that follows is thick.
Uncomfortable.
Final.
The drive home is quiet. Too quiet.
The girls fall asleep almost instantly in the backseat, curled up against each other, exhaustion overtaking whatever they felt earlier.
You stare out the window again. Just like before.
But this timeâ
Thereâs no energy left.
No anger. Just⊠heaviness.
Beside you, Mingi doesnât say a word.
Doesnât look at you. Doesnât move.
And for the first time that nightâ
The distance between you feels bigger than ever.
Mingi doesnât sleep. Not properly.
Heâs alone in his dorm room, ceiling staring back at him like it has answers it refuses to give. The silence isnât calmingâitâs loud in a different way. Every time he closes his eyes, he sees it again. Your face. Your voice.
That moment you went cold.
You didnât care.
He turns over, drags a hand down his face.
âThatâs not what I meant,â he mutters into the empty room, like it might respond.
But it doesnât.
The next morning, he doesnât wait long.
He shouldnât go. He knows that too.
But he goes anyway.
The ride over is too fast, his thoughts faster. By the time heâs standing outside your door, he actually hesitates.
Then he knocks. A pause. The door opens.
And there you are.
Still a little tired. Hair slightly messy. Barely guardedâbut still careful.
Your eyes land on him and immediately sharpen.
âWhat do you want?â you ask. Direct. Flat.
Mingi swallows.
For a second, he almost defaults to humor. To ease. To himself. But nothing comes out right. So he doesnât try.
ââŠI couldnât sleep,â he admits instead.
Your expression doesnât change, but something in your gaze flickers.
He exhales. âYesterday was⊠a mess.â
âThatâs one way to put it,â you mutter.
Neither of you moves. The air feels thinner than it should. Mingi shifts slightly, hands in his pockets now, less sure of himself than usual.
âI shouldnât have said what I said,â he begins carefully. âAbout you and that guy.â
Your eyes flicker for a second, but you stay quiet. âAnd I shouldnât have dragged the kids into it like that,â he adds. âThat wasnât fair.â That one lands harder. You exhale slowly through your nose.
Mingi watches you like heâs waiting for impact. Then, quieter:
âI was jealous.â
Honest.
Unfiltered.
That makes your brows lift slightly.
ââŠYeah,â you say softly. âI noticed.â
A faint, almost embarrassed breath leaves him. âOf course you did.â Silence again.
But itâs different now. Less sharp.
More exposed. He looks at you properly this time.Not through you. At you.
âIâm sorry,â he says simply. No excuses. No spin. Just that.
You stare at him for a moment longer than you probably should.
Because this is the part that always gets complicated. Not when heâs arrogant.
Not when heâs loud. But when heâs honest.
You should still be angry.
And part of you is.
But another partâannoyingly, unfairlyâjust feels warm. Like your chest forgets how to stay cold when he looks at you like that.
You look away briefly, exhaling.
ââŠYou really are bad at handling your emotions,â you mutter.
A small, relieved smile tugs at his lips. âOnly when youâre involved.â
You roll your eyes, but itâs weaker than before.
ââŠYou were still an asshole.â
âI know.â
Then you shift slightly to the side.
Not fully opening the door. Not closing it either. Something in between.
Mingi notices. He doesnât push. Just nods once, softer now.
ââŠThank you,â he says.
And for a momentâ neither of you says what comes next.
Because for him whatever this isâŠ
isnât finished yet.
Mingi lingers in the doorway, hands still in his pockets like heâs not entirely sure he deserves to be standing there. You donât step aside any further. He doesnât ask you to. For a moment, neither of you speaks.
Itâs almost funny, how quickly the silence after a storm can feel familiar.
Then Mingi lets out a small breath, rubbing the back of his neck. âDo you rememberâŠâ he starts, then hesitates, like heâs testing whether heâs allowed to go there.
Your eyes narrow slightly. âThatâs a dangerous sentence.â
A faint smirk tugs at his lips. âProbably.â Still, he continues.
ââŠthe time we tried to cook together and almost burned down your kitchen?â
That earns a pause. Then, despite yourself, your lips twitch.
âOh my god,â you breathe out. âYou set off the smoke alarm with pasta water.â
âIt was aggressive pasta water,â he defends immediately.
You shake your head, a quiet laugh slipping out before you can stop it. âYou were panicking more than the alarm.â
âYou were laughing at me instead of helping.â
âI was helping,â you shoot back. âI opened the windows.â
âYou opened all of them,â he corrects, pointing at you slightly. âIn winter.â
You actually laugh. Properly this time.
It slips out before you can hold it back, and something in your chest loosens just a little as the memory settles between you both.
Mingi watches you like he forgot that sound existed.
âYeah,â he murmurs, softer now. âYouâre still like that.â
âLike what?â you ask, still smiling faintly.
âLoud when you shouldnât be.â
You smile fades just a fractionâbut not completely.
âAnd youâre still annoying,â you reply.
âFair.â
For a moment, itâs almost easy. Almost normal.The kind of normal that used to exist without effort. Then the silence returns.
And it changes the air again.
The space between you feels wider now, like reality is gently pushing back in. You notice it first. You straighten slightly, folding your arms againânot defensive, just⊠instinct.
The warmth in your expression fades into something more controlled.
Careful. Mingi notices too. His gaze shifts, just slightly.
âRight,â he says quietly.
Not a question.
Just a signal that the moment is over. You nod once. âRight.â
He hesitates another second, like he wants to say moreâbut doesnât.
Instead, he steps back.
Respecting the distance you just rebuilt.
âI should go,â he says.
âYeah,â you reply.
He gives a small nod, then turns.
No drama.
No final word.
Just the quiet sound of him walking away.
The door closes. You stay where you are.
For a second. Two.
Then you open the door, let it click shut properly, and lean your back against it.
A long breath leaves you before you even realize youâre holding it.
Your head tilts back slightly.
And in the silence of your own spaceâ
you whisper, almost to yourself:
ââŠWhere the hell is this supposed to go?â
No answer comes. Just the faint echo of something that still isnât finished.
Summary: Five years ago, Mingi had to make a choiceâbetween you and his career. Back then, he chose his career, which soared rapidly afterward. Famous, beloved, celebrated all over the world. You, on the other hand, were left behindâalone, broken, and hurt. And as fate would have it, you meet again, and things take an unexpected turnâŠ
a/n: Hi everyone, first of all, thank you so much for the positive feedback! Hereâs Chapter 2! I hope you enjoy it just as much! There will be several more chapters to come, so stay tuned!Honestly, I donât (yet) know how to create a tag list, but as soon as I have some peace and time, Iâll take care of it!
Enjoy Chapter 2!
Chapter 2
For two weeks, Mingi had been on tour with his band. Even though the concerts and meeting fans were a welcome distraction, he never stopped thinking about you and the twins. Night after night, nightmares haunted himâwaking him up drenched in sweat, his breathing ragged, his heart pounding violently in his chest. But alongside all those thoughts, another feeling had slowly taken root in Mingiâs heart.
Guilt.
He felt unbearably guilty for not taking you seriously back then, for leaving you on your own, for choosing his career over you. He didnât even want to imagine what you must have gone through. He hates himself for itâand Mingi had always been someone who loved himself a little too much. Self-absorbed? Maybe. But this⊠this was tearing him apart from the inside. Why hadnât he answered that call? After several exhausting workdays, the guys had finally been given a few days off. Originally, Mingi had planned to use the time to work on his side project and discuss a few more brand deals with Seo-jun. But he hadnât spoken a single word to Seo-jun in two weeksâand he intended to keep it that way for now. Mingi wants to call you. He really does. But first, he doesnât even have your number. And second⊠youâd probably hang up on him the second you heard his voice. So instead, for the second time, he finds himself standing in front of your apartment.
Heart heavy. Guilt heavier.
Itâs early evening, and he desperately hopes youâre home. He doesnât want to look like some obsessed stalker. It had already been hard enough getting here unnoticed. He pulls his cap lower over his eyes, rolls his shoulders back. Into the lionâs den. Letâs go. When the door finally opens, he first sees only an empty hallwayâuntil a small, high-pitched voice pulls his gaze downward. He doesnât know which of the girls is standing in front of him⊠but then it hits him like a lightning strike. He stares into the face of his daughter. And recognizes himself immediately. She has your big, round eyes and your small button nose⊠but her full lips are unmistakably his.
âHi, Mingi,â the little girl greets him with a childlike smile.
So this is Sia.
âHi, sweetheart,â he replies softly, crouching down to her level and returning her smile. âIs your mom home?â
Without taking her eyes off him, she suddenly turns her head and calls out loudly for you.
âSia, Iâve told you a thousand times you canât just open the doââ
But the moment you see Mingi, the rest of the words die in your throat.
âMingi?â you ask, stunned, pulling your cardigan tighter around your body as you step forward, gently placing yourself in front of Sia.
âWhat do you want?â Your voice is sharpâcuttingâbut even you can see it: Mingi looks exhausted. Worn down. Like he hasnât slept in days.
âWe need to talk,â he says quietly, his eyes briefly flicking to Sia. You notice it too, and your expression hardens immediately.
âThen talk.â
Mingi swallows. âWe should do this alone. Just you and me.â
His voice trembles slightly now, frustration creeping in. Why do you always have to be so stubborn?
âI saidâtalk,â you repeat coldly.
Mingi exhales sharply through his nose. Fine. If you want it like thisâŠ
âSeo-jun gave me the papers,â he says, pulling out the paternity test and the contract, holding them right in front of you. Your eyes widen instantly. Your mouth parts slightly.
âSo,â he continues, voice low, dangerous in its calm. âAre you going to tell them⊠or should I?â
âCan I say goodnight to him one more time?â Mingi hears Sia plead, and the corners of his mouth twitch slightly upward. A brief discussion breaks out, and then a soft melody begins to play. While you are putting the twins to bed, Mingi looks around. The open-plan living and dining area is bright and cozy. Toys are scattered everywhere, and the walls are covered with pictures of the two girls. A tight knot forms in his throat. He has missed so muchâand the little ones arenât even five years old yet. He glances over his shoulder and pulls his phone out of his pocket. Quickly, he snaps a few pictures of the photos on the wall. He knows you would never allow thisâyou would probably rip his head offâbut Mingi has always done what he believed was right. Besides, Wooyoung had pressured him so long that he eventually promised to show him pictures of the girls.When he hears footsteps, he quickly puts his phone away and turns toward you.You are standing down the long hallway, your back to him near the door. The tight leggings accentuate your athletic figure, and your long, beautiful hair falls down your back. If Mingi werenât in such a complicated situation, he would have tried his luck with you again right thenâbut now you would probably castrate him before he could even move a finger.
âTheyâre asleep,â you inform him.
Your voice is strained, your expression serious.
Mingi nods, watching you closely.
You walk into the open kitchen, offer him something to drink, and gesture toward one of the chairs at the small table.
He sits down, his gaze still fixed on you.
âWhy did he tell you?â you suddenly ask as you pour water into the glasses.
âHe didnât,â Mingi explains. âI confronted him, and then he confessed.â
You glance at him briefly.
âHow do you know?â Your voice is cold and monotonous.
âHonestly⊠Yunho was the one who led me to it after I showed up at your door.â
You let out a short scoff and sit down across from him.
âDamn clever Yunho,â you murmur, shaking your head.
Mingi has had enough of beating around the bush.
âY/N, Iâm sorry. Honestly. Iâm so sorry. If I had known why you called⊠none of this would have happened.â
You set the glasses down on the table, your eyes deliberately avoiding his.
âItâs okay.â
âItâs okay?â Mingi repeats, confused. Did you poison his water or why were you so calm?
âMingi, I canât hate you for something you didnât know,â you say evenly. âI agreed to the deal with your manager.â
Silence.
âI needed the money. I was alone, just about to finish college, pregnant with twins,â you let out a dry, bitter laugh. âThat I made a deal with the devilâthatâs not something you need to apologize for.â
And then your green eyes finally lock onto his.
Mingi swallows hard.
âBut I do need to apologize for ignoring you and not giving you a chance to talk.â
Even though Mingi is tall, broad, muscularâhis voice right now feels painfully small.
Your gaze drops to the floor, and you lick your lips.
You want to say so much. You want to let it all out. But does it even make sense anymore? Youâve spent years building your life up againâfighting, working yourself to exhaustion.
Yes, you hate Song Mingi for what he did to you⊠but that is the past.
What matters now is what he wants from you now.
âDo you want to meet them?â you ask.
Mingi looks at you, startled.
âI⊠wellââ he starts, but stops when he sees your expression.
âWe can arrange it legally, if you want. Through a lawyer,â you continue calmly and matter-of-factly.
âA lawyer?â Mingi repeats in disbelief. âI know a good one. Heâs a colleague of mine,â you go on, completely unfazed by his shock.
âThe girls often ask about their father. They donât know who he is. So if you want this⊠we can arrange it.â
You clear your throat and begin counting off on your fingers, outlining your conditions.
âI donât want money or child support. The girls will stay here, and theyâre not allowed to attend any of your concerts until they are sixteen.â
Mingi stares at you in disbelief.
âAnd if you plan to take them away from me, thatâs also legally covered in the contract with your manager. By signing it, he agreed that you have no custody rights as long as I object.â
You finish your explanation with professional calm.
Mingiâs eyes search your face, completely stunned.
âWhatâŠ?â he manages to say, still utterly speechless.
âThis is what I wantâmy conditions. And there may be more to come,â you reply to his question, placing both hands flat against the table as if anchoring yourself in place.
âWe donât need a lawyer,â Mingi protests, shaking his head in disbelief at everything youâve just said. âWeâŠ,â he starts, but trails off, his voice faltering. âDid you rehearse this or something?â
You roll your eyes, a bitter hint of mockery crossing your face. âMingi, these are my conditions.â Your gaze cuts through him, sharp and unyielding. âAnd the girls will hear it from me,â you add.
He drags a hand over his face, unable to meet your eyesâunable to withstand either your stare or your demands.
âY/n, listenâŠâ He exhales deeply, as if the weight of it all is pressing down on his chest. âI donât want a lawyer, and I donât want a contract. What I want⊠is to meet my children. And maybeâif they want itâto be part of their lives.â
You swallow. His words strike something deep within you, something fragileâbut you refuse to let him see it.
âOkay,â you say, forcing your expression into neutrality, though it feels like holding together something thatâs already cracking.
âAnd you forgive me? Just like that?â Mingi knows heâs pushing too far, but he has to ask. Right now, you sit across from him like something mechanical, distantânothing like the vibrant, laughing woman he once knew.
âI donât forgive you,â you reply coldly. âAnd no matter how much I hate youâand believe me, I doâI look into the girlsâ faces every single day and see pieces of you.â Your voice trembles, just slightly, but you push on. âI see how Nari sleeps on her stomach, just like you. I see how Sia is just as loud and clumsy as you are. And I see two little girls who keep asking me why every other child in their kindergarten has a father⊠except them.â
Mingi lowers his gaze, shame pulling him down.
âSo instead, I forgive myself,â you continue more quietly, âand I let you into our lives, if you want to be there. But Iâm doing it for them. Not for you.â
âThatâs fair.â
âOkay. Give me your number. Iâll talk to the girls. I think it would be best if you meet them here for the first time⊠and spend some time with them.â You hold out your hand, your green eyes still locked onto him, unwavering.
He reaches into the pocket of his jeans and hands you his phone. After you exchange numbers, silence settles between youâheavy, suffocating.
âWould you have ever told me?â Mingi asks, leaning forward slightly.
Instinctively, you step back.
âProbably not,â you admit honestly. âThey would have found out eventually⊠maybe.â
Mingi stands, giving a short nod. You walk him to the door. Heâs just about to leave when he suddenly turns backâand you walk straight into him, stumbling.
His hand catches your arm, steadying you. The warmth of his grip sends a shiver down your spine, and you meet his eyes. For a few fleeting seconds, everything falls silent. The world seems to hold its breath around you.
âIâm truly sorry, Y/n,â he whispers, his hand slowly slipping away from your arm.
You sigh softly, tilting your head as you study his face one last time.
âItâs okay, Mingi. You never loved me the way I loved you⊠so it never would have worked between us anyway.â
The words land like a blow to his gut.
As you close the door, he leans against it from the outside, eyes falling shutâleft alone with the echo of everything heâs lost.
__________
Since that evening, five months have passed. You told Sia and Nari that Mingi is their father. When they asked why he had only just appeared now, you awkwardly avoided the question. The girls donât need to know everything about the pastâat least not yet.
And even though you had expected things to go differently, Sia and Nari loved him from the very beginning. He played with them, laughed, drew with them, and had a wonderful way of interacting with them. Sia, who was so much like her father in personality, started calling him âDadâ after just four weeks and had no reservations at all. Nari, on the other hand, was more reserved and shy.
When Mingi showed them a video of himself performing on stage for the first time, they were absolutely thrilled and immediately wanted to meet his band. Even though Mingi is still a thorn in your side, he tries to spend every free second he has with the girls. Naturally, this gives you more space and allows you to focus more on your work.
In the evenings, Sia canât stop talking about her father, praising him to the skies. When they visited him at the dorm for the first time and met the other boys, Sia blossomed right away, while Nari remained quite shy. But the boys also had a good sense of how to interact with the girls, and ever since then, Sia has been begging every day to go back to the dorm.
All in all, things are actually going quite well, and youâre glad that your daughters have handled this life-changing revelation so well. The only issue that remains is the tense situation between you and Mingi. You only speak to him when necessary, staying distant and cool. Of course, you try to hide this in front of the children, often avoiding or ignoring Siaâs endless, and frankly exhausting, questions.
Of course, you told your mom and your best friend Mina about him.
Your mom? Completely smitten. Sheâs already mentally planning the wedding and would happily adopt Mingi as her future son-in-law on the spot.
Mina, on the other hand, takes every possible chance to talk trash about him â his attitude, his vibe, his audacity⊠everything. Everything except his looks. Because even your overprotective best friend has to admit, with a reluctant sigh and a dramatic eye roll, that heâs seriously good-looking.
âI mean,â she mutters, crossing her arms, âif weâre being objective⊠heâs a solid catch.â
A beat. Then she narrows her eyes at you.
âStill donât trust him though.â
ââââ-
Even though Mingi is completely exhausted from dance practice and all the preparations for upcoming performances, he still insists on seeing the girls tonightâ his four-year-old twins with more energy than an entire stadium crowd. It actually works out perfectly for you. You have an important business dinner tonight. When the doorbell rings, you take a steadying breath and open the door.
Mingi freezes.
For a secondâjust one secondâhe genuinely forgets how to function as a human being. Youâre standing there in a fitted black dress that hugs your figure like it was designed with you in mind. Effortless. Sharp. Dangerous. Mingi blinks. Once. Twice. He looks like a teenager who just discovered attractive women exist.
âWow,â he mutters under his breath, then clears his throat quickly, trying (and failing) to recover. He runs a hand through his hair, attempting to upgrade himself from stunned idiot to charming adult. âI meanâhi. Hello. Wow⊠again.â
You raise an eyebrow. âAre you done?â
âNot even close,â he says, eyes flicking over you again before he forcibly drags them back to your face. âBut Iâll behave. For now.â
Thereâs a beat of silence before he leans casually against the doorframe, like he didnât just short-circuit.
âSo,â he continues, tone lighter now, curious. âWhere are you headed looking like that? Courtroom? Or are you planning to ruin someoneâs life socially tonight?â
âItâs a business dinner,â you reply, cool and distant. âNothing that concerns you.â
He hums, unfazed by the wall youâre putting up. âBusiness dinner,â he repeats. âRight. Lawyer things.â His lips curl into a grin. âWhat kind of law are we breaking tonight?â
âNone,â you say flatly. âThatâs kind of the point of my job.â
âShame,â he murmurs. Then his grin turns sharper, more deliberate. âIn that dress, you could accuse me of anything and Iâd confess immediately, sweetheart.â
You inhale slowly.
There it is. The charm. The audacity. The exact brand of trouble you swore you were immune to.
For a split secondâjust a dangerous, stupid secondâyou almost smile.
Then the memory hits.
Five years ago. The reason you built these walls in the first place. Your expression hardens instantly.
âFocus,â you say, stepping aside to let him in. âThe girls are inside.â
Mingi studies you for a moment. He notices the shiftâof course he doesâbut he doesnât push. Not directly.
Instead, he slips past you, easygoing again. âSia! Nari!â he calls out, his voice immediately warmer. Tiny footsteps thunder toward him, and within seconds, both girls crash into him like happy little hurricanes.
âDaddy!â
He laughs, crouching down despite the obvious exhaustion in his movements, pulling them into a hug. âHey, my favorite chaos duo.â
You watch for a moment, arms crossed, something unreadable flickering in your eyes. After a while, you grab your bag. âI have to go.â
Mingi looks up at you, one arm still wrapped around each girl. âYeah, yeah. Go be impressive.â Then he tilts his head slightly, that familiar, infuriating glint back in his eyes. âTry not to have too much fun without me.â
You roll your eyes. âThat wonât be a problem.â He winks anyway. Completely shameless.You turn before he can say anything else, heading out the door.
As it closes behind you, you keep your expression perfectly composed.
But the second it clicks shutâ
You canât help it.
A small, reluctant smile slips through.
When you finally get home, the apartment is quiet. Too quiet. You slip off your heels by the door, already bracing yourself for either chaos⊠or complaints. Instead, you find neither. In the living room, the lights are dim, and on the couchâ
You stop.
Mingi is fast asleep, completely passed out, one arm awkwardly draped around Sia while Nari is half sprawled across his chest. The three of them are tangled together in a way that looks deeply uncomfortable⊠and somehow perfectly natural at the same time. Siaâs tiny hand is fisted in his shirt. Nariâs cheek is squished against his shoulder. Mingiâs head is tilted back, breathing slow and heavy.
They look like a pile of exhaustion and trust. You feel it before you can stop itâa soft pull in your chest. And then, despite yourselfâŠ
You smile.
Quietly, you step closer, crouching slightly as you take in the scene. âUnbelievable,â you murmur under your breath. âAll three of youâŠâ As if he can hear you, Mingi stirs. His brow furrows, then his eyes blink open slowly, unfocused at firstâuntil they land on you. And just like earlierâ
There it is.
That look.
He goes very still.
ââŠYouâre back,â he says, voice rough with sleep.
âI live here,â you reply dryly.
A faint grin tugs at his lips. âRight. That would explain it.â
Careful not to wake the girls, he gently shifts, easing himself out from under them with surprising care. One by one, he lifts themâfirst Sia, then Nariâlike they weigh nothing at all. You follow him quietly down the hall as he carries them to their room. He tucks them in, adjusts the blankets, brushes a strand of hair from Nariâs face, presses a soft kiss to Siaâs forehead. For a moment, the arrogance disappears completely. Then he straightens and walks back out with you. In the hallway, you cross your arms lightly. âThank you,â you say, simple and sincere.
Mingi looks at you. And thenâagainâthat look shifts. Slow. Appreciative. A little too focused.
Your stomach tightens, just slightly.
He leans against the wall, crossing his arms, eyes dragging over you in a way that is absolutely intentional this time.
ââŠYouâre still wearing it,â he says.
You narrow your eyes. âDonât.â
He exhales softly, like heâs amused already. âWhat? I didnât even say anything yet.â
âYou were about to.â
âOkay, fair,â he admits easily.
Thereâs a beat.
Thenâ
âDo you need help taking it off?â
You donât even think. You swing at him. Mingi reacts instantly, sidestepping with effortless ease, your hand cutting through empty air. He laughsâbright, boyish, completely unrepentant. âStill slow.â
âStill insufferable,â you shoot back.
He grins, entirely pleased with himself. âYou didnât say no.â
âI didnât say yes either.â
âDetails.â
You glare at him, pointing a warning finger. âDonât push it.â
He leans in just slightlyânot enough to close the distance, but enough to make it feel smaller.
âOr what?â he asks, voice lower now, confidence unwavering. You hold his gaze, steady, guarded. âOr youâll regret it.â
Thereâs a pause.
And for a second, something sharper flickers in his eyesâsomething that almost remembers the line youâre drawing. Almost.
Then he smirks again, lazy and arrogant. âWorth the risk.â
You exhale, shaking your head as you step past him. âYou havenât changed.â
Behind you, he chuckles softly.
âNot where it matters.â
ââââââ-
âSo what is your work exactly?â
âWeâre singers, sweetheart. We make music,â Wooyoung explains patiently, offering Sia a warm smile.
The little girl shovels another spoonful of noodles into her mouth, swallows it with impressive enthusiasm, and lets her gaze wander across the band members.
âOh⊠so youâre like Elsa?â
Silence.
Seven grown men freeze mid-motion.
âCan you sing Let It Go too?â Siaâs twin sister asks, her voice bubbling with childlike excitement. âItâs our favorite song!â
Both girls beam from ear to ear, looking at Wooyoung with sparkling, expectant eyes.
âWell⊠theoreticallyâuhâwe could,â he clears his throat, âbut we actually sing our own songs.â He gently nudges Siaâs bowl a little closer to her. She had definitely inherited her fatherâs clumsiness.
âHm,â Nari muses out loudâyou could practically see the gears turning in her head, maybe even a little smoke puffing out of her earsââbut maybe you should start singing Elsa songs⊠then you might actually be successful.â
Silence.
âOuch, that actually hurt,â Jongho shoots back, pressing a hand dramatically to his chest.
âBut weâre successful!â Yunho protests, leaning in toward the two little girls. âWeâre known all over the world!â His hand sweeps through the air as he flashes a wide grin.
âHm⊠Iâve never heard of you. Have you, Nari?â
The girl in question just shakes her head, finishing the last of her noodles.
âWell, maybe thatâs because your mom would rather see your dad six feet under the ground than listening to our music,â Wooyoung mutters through clenched teethâstill wearing a suspiciously sweet smile.
âThe noodles were sooo good! Thank you, Wooyoung!â Sia beams, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
Wooyoung smiles so wide heâs practically meltingâthese two adorable creatures have already stolen his heart.
âCan we keep them?â he asks, turning to Hongjoong.
Hongjoong just rolls his eyes and gives him a look that says absolutely not, get it together.
âHopefully Mommy and Daddy will get along again!â Nari says, reaching for her coloring supplies.
San plops down beside her, and together they start coloring a unicorn.
âYeah, that would be amazing!â Sia cheers, throwing her tiny fists into the air before grabbing a pen and her Frozen coloring book.
âThen weâll finally get a little brother!â Nari chimes in, matching her sisterâs enthusiasm and beaming at everyone.
âand thatâs when chaos breaks loose.
San, startled, presses down so hard on his pen that it snaps in half. Jongho chokes on his coffee and nearly dies on the spot while Seonghwa smacks his back a little too enthusiastically. Yeosang just freezes, eyes wide, while Yunho and Wooyoung exchange deeply concerned looks.
âWe really want a little brother,â Sia informs the room, raising her eyebrows for emphasis.
âWeâd name him Olaf, and he could sleep in our bed!â Nari giggles, waving her tiny hand in front of Sanâs still-frozen face.
âUhâwellââ Yunho clears his throat. âThatâs⊠kind of complicated.â
âWhy?â
Oh my God. Is he seriously about to have the birds and the bees talk with four-year-olds?!
Mingi calls out loudly from the living room, âSia! Nari! Come on, itâs time to go! Iâll take you back to your mom!â
Sia lets out an exaggerated groan and starts packing up her pens. Nari, meanwhile, snatches one out of Sanâs handâonly to stare at the two broken halves in absolute horror.
Yunho, on the other hand, looks nothing short of relieved that the whole âpossible little brotherâ conversation has been abruptly cut off.
âSee you next time!â Sia chirps, swinging her backpack over her shoulder. Nari follows close behind, giving a shy little wave.
âI could literally eat them up!â Wooyoung squeals, clutching his chest dramatically as he watches them leave. âThey are illegally adorable. Someone call the authoritiesâthis level of cuteness cannot be allowed!â
Hongjoong steps up beside him, tilting his head with a smirk. âWho wouldâve thought Mingi was capable of producing such cute little creatures?â
The apartment is quietâlights dimmed, everything finally calm after hours of Sia-powered energy. Or at least⊠it was.
Because in the kitchenâ
Yunho is whispering.
ââŠjust the chorus.â
Wooyoung shakes his head aggressively. âNo. Absolutely not. I refuse to ruin my career like this.â San is already grinning. âYour career will improve. Sia said so.â From the counter, Hongjoong rubs his face. âI canât believe Iâm even in this conversation.â Seonghwa crosses his arms, pretending to be serious. âIf we do this⊠we do it properly.â Jongho nods solemnly. âVocals matter.â
Yeosang leans back. âThis is the worst decision weâve ever made.â
A beat.
Thenâ
Yunho inhales dramatically.
đ¶ âLet it goooooââ đ¶
San immediately joins in, way too loud for the situation.
đ¶ âLET IT GOOOOââ đ¶
âSHHHHH!â Wooyoung panic-whispers, but itâs already too late.
Jongho harmonizes.
Seonghwa commits like heâs on a world tour.
Yeosang is laughing while still somehow singing.
Hongjoong stands there like heâs questioning every life choice that led him hereâ
âŠand then quietly joins in.
đ¶ âCanât hold it back anymoreââ đ¶
Suddenly Mingi is back and enters the kitchen. âThe fuck??!â
âââââââââ
You really shouldnât be here.
You know that the second you step into the building.
Mingi had calledâof course he hadâand somehow, despite your very clear intention to keep all contact with him at an absolute minimum, heâd managed to talk you into it. Something about Yunho needing legal advice. Something about it being important.
So now youâre standing in front of the dorm door during your lunch break, already questioning every life decision that led you here.
You knock.
The door swings openâand you blink.
âHongjoong.â
His eyes widen for a split second, and thenâwithout hesitationâhe pulls you into a hug. A full hug. You freeze.
Because this is him. The same man who used to avoid casual contact like it was contagious. It lasts only a moment, but itâs real. When he pulls back, he gives you a small, knowing look. âItâs good to see you.â
You soften despite yourself. âYou too, Captain.â
He tilts his head toward the inside of the dorm. âThe two idiots are in the kitchen.â Then, quieter, with the faintest hint of a smirk, âIf they annoy you, just call for help.â
A small laugh escapes you. âI might take you up on that.â
He steps aside to let you in, and for the first time since arriving, you feel⊠slightly less on edge. Slightly.
You head toward the kitchen.
And there they are.
Mingi, leaning casually against the counter like he owns the placeâand Yunho beside him, posture straighter, expression more composed. The second you step in, both of them look up. Mingiâs gaze drops. Immediately. You donât even have to follow it to know exactly where heâs looking. Your cleavage, of course.
Yunho, at least, has the decency to be subtle about itâbut you catch it anyway. A quick glance. Then his attention returns to your face, polite as ever.
âHi,â you say, calm and professional.
âHey,â Mingi replies, a slow grin already forming, like heâs been waiting for this all day. Yunho steps forward first. âItâs been a while.â Before you can respond, he pulls you into a hug. You blink in surprise. This is new. Still, after a brief hesitation, you allow it.
âGood to see you,â he adds as he pulls back, offering you a warm smile that almost makes you forget youâre in a room with Mingi.
âYeah,â you reply, softer. âYou too.â
He gestures toward the kitchen island. âThank you for coming. I know itâs short notice.â
âIâm on a time limit,â you say, setting your bag down. âSo letâs make this quick.
âOf course.â
He hands you a file. You lean against the kitchen island and open it, immediately slipping into work mode as you start flipping through the pages. âA female idol,â Yunho explains, tone measured. âSheâs been making false statements. About me. About⊠us.â You nod faintly, scanning. âDefamation case, potentially.â
âExactly.â
You hum quietly, focused.
You feel it.
Two pairs of eyes.
On you.
You ignore it at first, turning a page. Then another.
Still there.
Unmoving.
Persistent.
You exhale slowly through your nose. Without looking up, you reach into your bag, pull out your reading glasses, and slide them onto your nose to get a clearer look at the documents.
Silence.
Thenâ
A muffled sound.
You glance up.
Yunho has his lips pressed together, clearly holding something back. Mingi, on the other hand, is already losing the battle completely.
Your eyes narrow. âWhat?â
Yunho doesnât answer. Instead, he casually mimics your motionâpretending to put on imaginary glasses with exaggerated precision. Thatâs it. Mingi breaks. He lets out a full laugh, leaning forward on Yunhos shoulder, one hand braced on the counter as he shakes his head. âNo, no, I canâtââ
You stare at them.
Flat. Unimpressed. Absolutely done.
âSeriouslyâŠWhat is wrong with you two?â
âNothing,â Yunho says quicklyâtoo quicklyâstill grinning. Mingi straightens, wiping at the corner of his eye like this is the funniest thing heâs seen all week. âWeâre justâadjusting to the new look.â You slowly remove the glasses, holding them between your fingers. âItâs called reading.â
âOh, we know,â Yunho says, nodding seriously. âWeâre just wondering when the walking cane makes its debut.â
âAnd the hearing aids,â Mingi adds immediately. âShould we start speaking louder? Do you need us toââ
You stare at them.
For a long moment.
Completely still.
ââŠUn-fuckin-believable.â
Mingi crosses his arms, still smirking. âYou walked into this one.â
âI did not walk into anything,â you snap. âI came here to help. Professionally.â
âRight,â Yunho says, biting back another grin. âVery professional.â
You look between themâthe same idiots from years ago. Same energy. Same relentless need to poke at you until you react. God, you forgot how exhausting this is. You exhale sharply, placing the glasses back on your nose with deliberate calm.
âOkay,â you say coolly. âLetâs clarify something.â
They both go quietâbarely.
You look directly at Yunho.
âIf you actually want to win this case, I suggest you stop behaving like youâre twelve and start taking this seriously.â
Then your gaze shifts to Mingi.
âAnd youââ
You tilt your head slightly, eyes sharp behind the lenses.
ââshould be very careful. Because unlike them,â you tap the file lightly, âI can ruin someoneâs reputation professionally. And Iâd be happy to practice.â
ââŠGod, I missed this.â
Mingi doesnât even try to hide it. That grin staysâlazy, amused, entirely too pleased with himself.
Yunho exhales through his nose, shaking his head like heâs trying to compose himself⊠and failing.
âOh, wait,â Yunho says suddenly, leaning in slightly, squinting at your face like heâs inspecting something very important. âHold on, hold on⊠I need a closer look.â
You donât move. You will definitely NOT help him with this fucking case. But he steps closer anyway, tilting his head. Mingi joins him without hesitation, circling just enough to stand at your other side, both of them now acting like youâre some kind of exhibit. You close your eyes briefly.
This is your life. Great.
Yunho hums thoughtfully. âYeah⊠yeah, I see it.â
âRight?â Mingi nods immediately, dead serious. âVery specific vibe.â
You open your eyes slowly. ââŠI swear toââ
âWhich model is that?â Yunho asks, completely ignoring you, turning to Mingi like you are not standing right there. âIs that the âsweet old grandma you take home on Sundaysâ edition?â
Mingi squints, pretending to analyze. âHmm⊠no, no. I think youâre off.â
âOh?â Yunho raises a brow. âThen what is it?â
Mingi crosses his arms, nodding decisively. âThatâs the âI definitely donât have sexâ model.â Yunho bends forward, laughing into his hand. Mingi actually turns away, shoulders shaking, like he needs a moment to recover from his own joke.
You just stand there.
Lunch break. You could have been eating in peace. Instead, you are here. With these two fucking idiots.
You snap the file shut.
Loud.
You lower the file slowly, fixing them with a sharp, unimpressed stare.
ââŠAre you done?â
You clear your throat. Mingi grabs a bottle of water and opens it. The laughter fades, and they eagerly await your comeback. And hell yeah, it will hurt them.
"Pretty bold of you two to laugh at my glasses and calling me a granny when I was only wearing them during my last nude photoshoot.â
While Yunho looks like heâs seconds away from collapsing into a full-scale cardiac emergency, Mingi suddenly chokes on his water, he was about to drink and proceeds to launch it like a malfunctioning fountain, spraying it clear across the kitchen in absolute chaos.
You simply raise one eyebrow, continuing to watch their reactions like this is prime entertainment. Yunho, meanwhile, is still standing there completely frozenâclearly bufferingâprobably imagining you naked, in nothing but your underwear and those glasses. And Mingi? Heâs over there fighting for his life, nearly choking on his water while aggressively thumping his own chest like thatâs somehow going to fix the situation. Once they've both calmed down but are still staring at you, you unabashedly open the file again and click your tongue.
"Uh huh, thatâs what I thought.â
The silence eventually settles.
Not the chaotic kind from beforeâthis one is⊠heavier. Controlled. You flip another page, entirely composed again, like nothing happened. Like you didnât just mentally dismantle both of them.
Across from you, Yunho finally exhales, dragging a hand down his face as he triesâdesperatelyâto return to something resembling professionalism.
Mingi, however, is still watching you. Not laughing anymore. Just watching.
You ignore it. You scan the last few pages, then nod faintly to yourself before looking up at Yunho.
âAlright,â you say, tone back to business. âIf these statements are documented properly, we have a solidââ
âYouâre bluffing.â
You stop. Slowly turn your head.
Mingi is leaning against the counter again, arms crossed, expression amusedâlike heâs just solved a puzzle no one else noticed. You blink at him once.
ââŠExcuse me?â
He shrugs, pushing off the counter just enough to stand straighter. âYou heard me! Think about it,â Mingi continues, gesturing lightly toward you, like heâs presenting evidence. âShe walks in, drops that whole âphotoshootâ line out of nowhereââ
You raise an eyebrow.
ââwhich, by the way,â he adds, glancing at your boobs again, âstill not over thatââ
âFocus,â Yunho mutters under his breath.
Mingi ignores him completely. âPoint isâyouâre messing with us.â
Mingi doesnât even finish his sentence properly. Because the moment he says itâyouâre messing with usâyou let out a quiet, almost amused breath.
Like heâs said something mildly entertaining.
Not accurate. Just⊠cute.
You tilt your head slightly, watching him. Then you smile. Small. Controlled. Dangerous in its calmness.
âMessing with you?â you repeat softly.
Mingi straightens a little, like heâs waiting for your denial. But it doesnât come.
Instead, you close the file with one clean motion.
Click.
âI donât need to mess with you,â you say.
Your gaze shifts briefly between both of them. Then you add, almost casually:
âAnd you, of all people, should remember that I do not bluff about things like that.â
Silence.
Immediate.
Yunhoâs eyes flick to Mingi like: what did she just say?
Mingi freezes. Just for a fraction of a second. Then he scoffs, but itâs weaker than before. âThat was years ago.â
You hum lightly, like youâre considering that.
âWas it?â
Thatâs enough. Mingi's jaw almost falls to the ground. You reach for your bag, slipping the file neatly inside, movements calm, unhurried. Completely unbothered by the sudden shift in energy you just created.
Yunho clears his throat awkwardly. âSo⊠weâre justâignoring that sentence?â
You donât look at him.
âMhm.â
Mingiâs eyes narrow slightly. âYouâre dodging.â You finally glance up at him again.
And this time, your expression is almost sweet.
âNo,â you correct gently. âIâm finishing my lunch break.â You sling your bag over your shoulder.
Then you turn slightly toward Yunho.
âFriday,â you say. âIn my office. 10 pm. Be on time.â
Yunho nods automatically, still slightly dazed. âYeahâyeah, okay.â
Summary: Five years ago, Mingi had to make a choiceâbetween you and his career. Back then, he chose his career, which soared rapidly afterward. Famous, beloved, celebrated all over the world. You, on the other hand, were left behindâalone, broken, and hurt. And as fate would have it, you meet again, and things take an unexpected turnâŠ
a/n: Alright everyone, here it isâmy first longer fanfiction⊠Iâm nervous! It feels like everything takes me longer because Iâm writing in English for the first time! If you find any mistakes, Iâm sorry!
Enjoy reading!
Chapter 1
You stride down the hallway of the fancy restaurant like youâre on a mission. Your heels click sharply against the polished parquet floor â loud, confident, a little dramatic. Youâre trying (and failing) to shove your phone into your ridiculously tiny handbag, because of course it gets stuck, and of course your rings decide to latch onto the damn thing like itâs personal. Honestly, this excuse of a purse couldnât even hold Smurfetteâs essentials. Without looking up, you keep walking â until you slam straight into someone. Your bag slips from your hand and hits the floor.
âShitâsorry,â you mumble, already crouching down to grab it, but a large hand beats you to it. You straighten up, ready to thank them politely â but the words die in your throat the second you realize whoâs standing in front of you.
ây/n?â
Youâd recognize that voice anywhere. Out of a million. Out of a lifetime. Your heart starts pounding against your ribs like itâs trying to warn you â or maybe escape. You just stare at him. Mingi. Itâs been 5 years, 2 months, and 15 days since he broke your heart. Since he chose his career over you. And ever since that day, you swore that if you ever saw him again, youâd slap him across the face and call him every insult youâve ever known. Maybe even add a well-placed kick to really seal the deal. And yet⊠here you are. Just staring at him.
Your voice is tied in knots. Your stomach is twisted. Your heart aches like it remembers everything all at once. You have exactly two options: Stay and make polite small talk with the man who shattered you into a thousand pieces⊠or face him â confident, fearless, healed.
Or⊠run.
Yeah. Running sounds great.
âI have to go,â you mutter, panic creeping into your voice as you turn on your heel and hurry away. You squeeze past a group of guests, stealing a glance over your shoulder â and there he is. Following you. Panic spikes. You pick up your pace, which would be easier if you werenât balancing on 12 cm heels like a newborn deer instead of Usain Bolt. In your rush, you donât see the waiter turning the corner â carrying a full tray. And thenâ
Crash.
You slam right into him. Glasses shatter, drinks spill everywhere, chaos erupts instantly. People stare. The waiter apologizes immediately, but you donât care. You just need to get away. Away from Mingi. So you rush out of the restaurant, slip into an open elevator â thank God the doors close right away â and frantically press the button for the basement parking. When an elderly couple steps out one floor below, youâre finally alone. The ringing in your ears fades. Your pulse slows. You take a deep breath. Then another. Close your eyes for a second. You did it. You actually avoided him.
A small, proud smile tugs at your lips.
Out of sight, out of mind. Thatâs always been your motto. And honestly? Itâs worked pretty damn well when it comes to Mingi. Your head drops slightly as you exhale. Now⊠how the hell are you going to explain to Mina that you completely ditched your arranged date? Then again â the guy was probably boring anyway. And then you feel it. A single tear slipping down your cheek.
You swallow.
Another follows. Then another. You press your hand over your eyes, as if that might stop them â as if you still have control. You donât. And finally, you give in. Sliding down the wall of the elevator, you collapse into yourself, sobbing.
âââââââââââ
Once again, Mingi checks the apartment number against your ID. Apartment 9. This has to be it. He takes a slow breath in, then out. This is probably a terrible idea. But he had to see you again. Ever since running into you at the restaurantâsince you bolted like your life depended on itâhe hasnât been able to get you out of his head. And itâs not just your dramatic escape thatâs been haunting his nights.
NoâŠ
Itâs also the fact that after five years, youâre still ridiculously hot. Your faceâmore mature now, sureâbut still easily putting every model to shame. And that dress? The way it hugged your curves, especially that perfect, round assâ Mingi clenches his jaw. Yeah⊠he needs to get it together before this turns into a very inappropriate situation. Confident in himselfâmaybe a little too confidentâhe presses the doorbell.
âIâm coming!â your voice echoes from behind the door.
He hears footsteps. Multiple. Voices, too. His brows furrow. Wait⊠were you taken? Living with someone?
It suddenly hits himâhe doesnât know anything about you anymore. Not a single damn thing. You disappeared back then like youâd been erased. The door swings open abruptly, and he blinks. Youâre standing there with your back to him. Short shorts. Oversized T-shirt. Your long hair piled into a messy bun. Effortless. Dangerous.
âSia, Iâm telling you for the last timeâget dressed now!â you snap, your voice sharp enough to make Mingi question whether heâs turned on⊠or slightly afraid. His gaze drifts. Down your soft back⊠to your very distracting assâŠand further down your toned, slender legs.
A quiet sigh escapes you as you finally turn aroundâ
âThanks for coming, Mom, those twoââ
And then you see him. Your words die instantly.Mingi gives you a small, almost shy smile and holds up your ID.
âYou left this behind,â he says softly.
Your eyes flick between him and the card. Him. The card. Him again. But you donât move.
âMommy! I canât find the right crown for my Elsa dress!â a high-pitched voice pipes up behind you.
Mingi tilts his head, curiousâand spots a little girl with long black hair in a light blue dress.
âMommy! Are you even listening?â she huffs, completely unfazed by his presence. âNari had the crown last!â
You still donât respond, frozen in place.
âWhoâs that, Mommy?â she asks, now eyeing Mingi with open curiosity.
Before you can answer, another tiny voice joins in.
âMommy! I donât have the stupid Elsa crown!â
Another little girl appearsâ
And suddenly, chaos.
âYou do too!â
âNo I donât!â
Mingiâs eyes widen. These two barely reach his hips, but they argue like seasoned professionals.
âThatâs enough!â you snap, stepping in and separating the miniature war zone. âSia, your crown is in the bathroom! Nari, go get dressedâyour grandma will be here any minute!â One of the girls storms offâsticking her tongue out at her sister on the wayâwhile the other suddenly turns her full attention to Mingi.
âHi! Iâm Sia!â she chirps sweetly, flashing him a bright smile. Mingi crouches down, offering his hand.
âMingi.â
Just like with you, his charm works instantly. She grins and high-fives him. âAre you Mommyâs date?â she asks, lisping slightly.
âSia! Go!â you command, pointing down the hallway.
She rolls her eyesâdefinitely your daughterâthrows Mingi one last adorable smile, which he answers with a wink, and disappears.
âYours?â
âYes.â
âMarried?â
âNo.â
Interesting, Mingi thinks. You must have left the father, or he left you. What an idiot. When he stands back up and looks at you againâyour expression could kill.
âWhat are you doing here?â you snap, snatching your ID from his hand.
âReturning your ID,â he replies casually. Then, with a teasing lift of his brow: âA date, huh?â
âStop. Right now,â you warn.
âRelax, Iâm kidding,â he says lightlyâthough his eyes wander down your body again.
Yeah⊠youâre definitely not wearing a bra.
âI know that look,â you say sharply. âAnd I donât like it one bit.â
Mingi slowly drags his tongue over his lower lip, completely unbothered.
âSo⊠howâve you been, y/n?â
âFantastic. And nowâgoodbye.â
You move to slam the door, but he stops it with one hand. Your eyes meet.
âWhoa, whoaânot so fast,â he murmurs. âYouâre not even going to invite me in?â
You stare at him like heâs lost his mind.
âNo.â
âAlright, alright,â he chuckles, stepping back. âSee you next time.â He gives you a wink and raises his hands innocently.
âThere wonât be a next time!â you snap.
âSure about that?â he teases. âArenât you missing your organ donor card?â
He laughs at your stunned expression.
âSee you next time, Mommy.â
And with that, he turns and walks offâsmirking to himself as your door slams shut behind himâhands sliding casually into his pockets, far too pleased with himself.
ââââââââââ-
With a sigh, Yunho lets the controller drop onto the couch the moment he hears Mingi entering the dorm. Mingi tosses his keys onto the shelf and flops down next to him on the comfy sofa. It doesnât take long for Yunho to notice the wide grin spreading across his friendâs face.
âSomeoneâs in a very good mood,â he remarks, giving Mingiâs muscular thigh a friendly slap.
âYouâll never guess who I ran into today!â Mingi sings, his grin growing even wider.
Yunho barely has time to think before Mingi bursts out again, unable to contain himself.
âOkay, fine, Iâll tell you! You remember y/n, right?â
Yunhoâs eyebrows shoot up. ây/n? That insanely hot y/n?!â
âYep.â
Yunho drags a hand over his face. âDamn⊠she was an absolute bombshell.â
Mingi nods in full agreement.
âHow is she?â Yunho asks, tossing a few peanuts into his mouth.
âPretty good, I think. We ran into each other at a restaurant a few days ago,â Mingi says, grabbing some peanuts himself. âThough she bolted the second she saw meâlike sheâd just spotted a ghost.â
âWell⊠you did dump her pretty cold back then,â Yunho points out.
Mingi grimaces. Yeah, okayâhe hadnât exactly been a gentleman. But hey, that was five years ago! Forgive and forget.
âAnyway,â Mingi continues, âshe dropped her ID while fleeing, and I, being the heroic savior that I amââ he places a dramatic hand on his chest, earning an eye roll from Yunho, ââreturned it to her. Turns out she lives not far from here. Oh, and she has two daughters. Twins.â
âMarried?â
âNope. Which is kinda weird, right? I mean, the kids looked about four or five and she is one hot mommy!â
Mingi keeps munching on peanuts, completely unfazedâuntil Yunho suddenly freezes.
âHow old exactly?â Yunho asks, more sharply this time.
âNo idea,â Mingi shrugs. âFive at most, Iâd guess. Why?â
Yunho lowers his gaze and leans back slowly, deep in thought.
âHmâŠâ he murmurs.
But Mingi, blissfully oblivious, keeps going:
âAnywayâsheâs still insanely hot! Sure, she looked at me like she wanted to strangle me, but Iâm positive thereâs still something there between us.â
He leans back too, running a hand through his hair.
âI mean, the sex we hadâŠâ he exhales, almost nostalgic. âBest Iâve ever had. Damn, she was wild in bed.â
He lets out a devilish laugh and nudges Yunho with his elbowâbut Yunho doesnât react, still lost in thought.
âWhen exactly did you break up with her?â Yunho suddenly asks.
Mingi frowns. âUh⊠no clue. Like five years ago? Why?â
Yunho exhales slowly. âMingi⊠donât you see what Iâm getting at?â
âThat I need to get her back into bed? Obviously!â Mingi laughs, rubbing his hands together.
Smack.
âOW!â
âThatâs not what I mean, you idiot!â Yunho snaps, sitting up.
âRight after you broke up with her, y/n called me,â he continues. âShe was crying, desperate to talk to you. Said she didnât know what to do. You told me to brush her off and send her to your manager.â
Mingi nods. âYeah, I remember.â
âShe sounded really desperate,â Yunho adds quietly. âSaid she couldnât make that decision on her own.â
Mingi just stares at him, completely clueless, and shrugs. Yunho closes his eyes for a moment, then exhales loudly.
âMingi! Think! Five years ago, you dump her. Five weeks later, she calls me, crying. And nowâfive years laterâyou meet her again⊠and she has two daughters.â
He opens his eyes, looking at Mingi expectantly.
ââŠwhat are you trying to say?â Mingi asks, a bad feeling creeping in.
âWell,â Yunho replies dryly, âyouâre the math genius here.â
ââŠYou think those kids are mine?!â
âWell, try putting two and two together.â
Mingiâs eyes dart to the floor as if the answer might magically appear there.
âNo! No way! She wouldâve told me!â he protests, shaking his head. âYeah, the breakup sucked, but sheâd never do something like that!â
âShe did try to contact you. Multiple times.â Yunho mutters.
Speechless, Mingi falls back against the couch.
This canât be happening. No way those kids are his. Sure, they were young. Sure, they had a lot of sexâlike, a lot.
But they used protection.âŠmost of the time.
âWhat the hell am I supposed to do now?â Mingi whispers, looking helplessly at Yunho.
âYou should talk to your managerâmaybe he remembers something,â Yunho says. âAnd then⊠you definitely need to talk to y/n.â
âââââââ-
Mingi is practically running down the hallway toward his managerâs office. He has to talk to himâtoday. In just two weeks, his group will leave for their Asia tour, and before that, he needs answers. He needs to know if you ever tried to reach out to his manager back then. He doesnât even bother knocking as he pushes the door open. His manager is on the phone, but he looks up, offering Mingi a brief, polite nod before raising a fingerâjust a second. Mingi nods stiffly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, barely able to stand still. This has to be a misunderstanding. It has to be. Those two little girlsâthereâs no way theyâre his. Yeah. Exactly. Thatâs all this is. A mistake. He repeats it in his head like a mantra, trying to force himself to believe it. The moment the call ends, Mingi steps forward so quickly itâs almost abrupt.
âMingi, what can I do for you?â
âFive years ago⊠did a young woman named y/n try to contact you?â
He doesnât even finish the name before his manager visibly flinches.
âI have no idea what youâre talking about,â he replies, short and cold.
Mingi narrows his eyes.
âYouâre lying. Tell me what you knowânow.â
A heavy sigh leaves his managerâs lips.
âMingi⊠itâs better if we donât talk about this. Everything is fine the way it is. End of discussion.â
He turns away, shuffling through old files as if that alone could shut the conversation down.
âI have a right to know what y/n wanted from you back then!â
Another sighâlonger this time, more strained. His manager drags a hand over his face.
âMingi⊠this will only complicate everything. Donât you understand that?â
But Mingi doesnât back down. He walks around the desk, closing the distance between them.
âSeo-jun⊠for ten years, youâve been my manager. You raised me in this industry, made me stronger, stood by my side through everythingâŠâ
His voice softens, but it doesnât lose its urgency.
âIâm asking you. Please. Tell me what you know.â
Silence stretches between themâheavy, suffocating. Then, another deep sigh.
âFine,â Seo-jun finally says, his voice low, serious. He looks Mingi straight in the eyes. âBut you need to understandâthis could put your entire career at risk.â
âI donât care.â
The answer comes instantly. Without hesitation. Seo-jun studies him for a moment longer⊠then gives in.
âFive years ago⊠that girlââ
ây/n.â
ââŠy/n called me. She was⊠in pieces. Crying. Desperate. She said she had to talk to you, that she didnât know what to do. But you had already shut her out. Blocked her everywhere. Pushed her away completely.â
Each word feels heavier than the last.
âI told her to leave you alone. That you had ended things. That she needed to accept it.â
And before the final words are even spoken, something tightens painfully in Mingiâs chest. A knot forms in his stomach, pulling tighter and tighterâbecause deep down, he already knows. He already knows whatâs coming.
âShe told meâŠâ Seo-jun continues quietly, âthat she was pregnant.â
A pause.
âWith twins.â
Mingi continues to stare out the window, arms folded tightly across his chest, his shoulders tense with barely contained emotion.
âSo you knew? All this time⊠you knew those girls were mine?â
Seo-Jun lets out a heavy, ashamed sigh, running a hand through his hair.
âYes. I⊠I wanted to protect you, Mingi. Honestly, you have to believe me!
âProtect me?â Mingi repeats, disbelief dripping from every word. Anger surges through himâanger at his manager, anger at you, anger at everyone. How could they betray him like this?
âMingi, you know yourself how many crazy fans are out there,â Seo-Jun says, gesturing toward the vast city skyline beyond the window. âI thought she was one of them. So I told her sheâd have to prove that you were the father first.â
Mingi lowers his head. Dark strands of hair fall over his forehead, shadowing his expression.
âAnd then?â he asks quietly.
âAfter the twins were born, y/n contacted me. She wanted to sue us⊠to take everything public. So I had a paternity test done andâŠâ Seo-Junâs voice falters. He clears his throat, as if gathering the courage to finally speak the truth. Mingi watches him, tense, expectant.
âWhen it came back positive, I met with her. It could never reach the public. Illegitimate children of a K-pop idol? It wouldâve been a massive scandal. So⊠I offered her money.â
Mingi swallows hard. His lips feel painfully dry, his breathing shallow.
âHow much?â he whispers, barely audible.
His manager sighs again, then taps a single finger against a sheet of paperâright on the number. The moment Mingi sees it, nausea crashes over him. His stomach twists violently. That little⊠that was all his children were worth? He grips the papers in his trembling hands.
âI need air,â he gaspsâand then he runs.
Out of the office. Away from everything. Itâs too much. You were pregnant with his children? Twins? And Seo-Jun had hidden it all. Mingi feels betrayed. Shattered. Furious beyond words. His entire world seems to be collapsing, holding together and spinning apart at the same time, faster than he can comprehend. He doesnât even know what heâs feeling anymoreârage, despair, shame? He needs to talk to you. Thatâs his first instinct. But before that⊠he has to go back to the dorm. The boys are his familyâhis only real one. And they deserve to know the truth.
âââââââââ-
The moment Mingi steps into the dorm, heâs hit with a wall of noise. Wooyoung is singingâloudlyâby the stove. Jongho and San are yelling at each other like their lives depend on it while button-mashing through a PlayStation match. Meanwhile, Hongjoong and Seonghwa sit at the table, deep in discussion about the upcoming tour, papers and schedules spread out between them.
Yeah⊠this is home. His safe place. His refuge. His familyâ Mingi flinches.
Family?
The word twists painfully in his chest. Heâs a father. He has a family. Technically. His stomach tightens.
âMingi!â San calls out brightly. âThere you are! Get over here and watch me absolutely kicking Jonghosâ ass!â
Mingi just stares at him. Blank. Silent. Jongho immediately protests, jumping up to shove San hard. The two of them erupt into chaos again.
And Mingi⊠doesnât move.
He stands there, frozen in the middle of the dorm. Papers clutched in his hand. A thousand thoughts in his headâmillions crashing through his heart.
âMingi, is everything okay?â Hongjoong asks, his voice cutting through the noise. His gaze drops from Mingiâs face to the papers in his hand. Mingi looks down at the floor, tightening his grip.How is he supposed to say this?
Will they understand?
Will this destroy everything theyâve built?
âEarth to Mingi!â Wooyoung chimes in cheerfully. âI hope youâre hungry, big guy! I made extra food just for you!â
Mingi lifts his head, eyes dartingâlost, searching. Hongjoong reacts instantly. He stands and walks straight over.
âHey⊠whatâs going on?â he asks softly. Then, with a faint frown: âYou look like youâre standing at your own grave.â
Wow. Accurate. Painfully accurate, Mingi thinks.
âI⊠we need to talk,â Mingi whispers. âAll of us.â
After Mingi tells them everything⊠silence.
Complete, suffocating silence fills the dorm. For the third time, Hongjoong flips through the papers, as if sheer willpower might turn this into some kind of misunderstanding.
âI⊠IâŠâ Mingi stammers, dragging his hands down his face. âI get it if youâre angry. Or disappointed. I would be too. But I swearâthis wonât affect your careers. Not in any way.â
Seonghwa clears his throat, holding Mingiâs gaze.
âWhy would we be angry?â he asks gently. âYou didnât do anything wrong.â
âThe only one who screwed up here is Seo-Jun,â San snaps, already on his feet, fists clenched.
âHe said he was trying to protect me,â Mingi mutters, resting his forehead against his fingertips.
âI just⊠I donât want to drag you into this,â he continues, voice cracking. âWeâve worked too hard for this. For years. And if that means that Iââ
âDonât you dare finish that sentence.â
Hongjoongâs voice cuts through the air like a blade. Mingi freezes.
âI mean it,â Hongjoong says, stepping closer. His tone softens, but his eyes are unwavering. âMingi⊠those are your children. Thatâs the most precious thing in the world.â
He places a firm hand on Mingiâs arm.
âYouâre their father. And no matter what happensâwe stand with you. No one is tearing us apart. Eight makes one team. Got it?â
Mingi hesitates, looking at him uncertainly. Hongjoong doesnât budge.
âGot it?â he repeats, more firmly.
Slowly⊠Mingi nods.
Yunho steps in beside him, draping an arm over his broad shoulders.
âWe stick together,â he says with a grin. âLet the press try to tear us apart. Fuck them! This is about your kids.â
Mingi lets out a small, shaky smile.
âHave you seen them?â Wooyoung suddenly blurts out, eyes sparkling. âWhat do they look like? I hope they look like y/n.â
That earns a round of laughter.
âI⊠donât really know,â Mingi admits. âI only saw them briefly. Theyâre small.â
âDefinitely got that from their mom,â Wooyoung shoots back instantly, winking. More laughter. Seonghwa suddenly stands up and gestures sharply.
âUp. All of you. Now.â
They obey without question, forming a half-circle around Mingi, arms slung over each otherâs shoulders.
âMingi,â Seonghwa says firmly, âweâve got you. Thank you for being honest with us. No matter what happensâwe stay together!â
â8 makes 1 team!â
Together, they shout their team chant. The sound fills the room. Loud. Unbreakable.
âYouâre a dad now, Mingi,â Jongho laughs, ruffling his hair. Mingi ducks his head, embarrassedâbut smiling.
âAnd twins?!â Wooyoung yells, launching himself onto Mingiâs back. âWow⊠look at you, Mr. Fertile.â
Mingi stumbles forward, nearly collapsing, only for Yunho to catch him. The room erupts in laughter, cheers, teasing congratulations.
And in that moment, Mingi realizesâ He really does have the best family he could ever ask for. And heâs never been more grateful.
âŠbut now, thereâs one more thing he has to do. He has to talk to you.
And honestly?
Heâs not sure if youâll be relieved that he finally knows the truth âor if he should start digging his own grave already.
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Summary: Five years ago, Mingi had to make a choiceâbetween you and his career. Back then, he chose his career, which soared rapidly afterward. Famous, beloved, celebrated all over the world. You, on the other hand, were left behindâalone, broken, and hurt. And as fate would have it, you meet again, and things take an unexpected turnâŠ
đ·ïž tags: spiderman!yunho x f!reader, est. relationship, roleplay kinda, dry humping, 18+ MDNI
đ·ïž wc: 1.2k
đ·ïž notes: this is so short i just needed him out of my head
WIND WHIPS AROUND YOUR HAIR AS YOU LEAN ON THE BALCONY RAILING. with it carries the bustling noise of new yorkâs night life: drunk pedestrians, cars honking, and if you really strain enough â you can just catch a distant âthwipâ on the horizon. a smile graces your lips at the recognition.Â
you pull out your phone, bright screen still open on the last text yunho sent: be there in 5. itâs been much longer than just a mere five minutes, but you know to take his ETA estimates with a grain of salt. he can get so easily caught up, your boyfriend. especially on a chaotic friday night in the heart of the big apple.Â
you sigh, breath turning to fog in the cold air. in the thin cotton of your pyjamas, all thatâs really keeping you warm out here is the buzzing under your skin â the excitement of your boyfriend finally coming home.Â
these days, heâs been crawling into bed beside you at ridiculous oâclock, cuddling into your snoring body. and by the morning, you wake up to his side of the bed cold, a love note stuck to your phone and some breakfast kept warm on the stove. itâs been too long since heâs just held you â not just a hug goodbye, but a hold that swallows you into his arms until your bodies are tangled as one. a touch that crawls up, that blooms inside you..Â
you flinch when your vision is suddenly cloaked in black â gloved hands cupping over your eyes from behind. your initial surprise quickly slides back into excitement, and you canât help yourself from reaching up and hooking your fingers around his pinky.Â
âguess who?â comes a muffled voice from behind you. even under the mask, you can hear the giddy grin on his face.
you giggle, deciding to play into it. âspiderman?â you faux-gasp, âbut i didnât call for any help..â
he hums, palms sliding down your cheeks, fingers splaying across your chin and neck. you sigh into the touch, head leaning back and bumping into his forearms. thatâs when you realise the angle â this show-off is hanging upside down.Â
âwell, i didnât come because of any danger, miss..â he says lowly, tilting your head back to stare at him. he inches further down on the string, mask hovering at level with your face. you can hear the way his breaths turn heavy, no doubt his eyes taking in your body. youâre proven right when his hands creep further down, just resting above your chest â fingers twitching over the dainty straps of your pyjama top. your lip quirks over how well you know him. heâs like a dog to a bone.Â
âbutâ my boyfriendâs coming home soon,â you bat your lashes at him, fully committed to the bit.Â
he chuckles, removing a hand from your chest to reach for his mask, pulling it up over his mouth. he licks his lips, smirking. âiâll keep it quick then. he wonât have to know.âÂ
then he kisses you, soft and hot, inhaling sharply like your mouth is the air he breathes. you kiss him back harder, a noise slipping from your throat in desperation, and it only serves to spur him on. his mouth moves in a hurry against yours, tongue tasting every corner of your mouth. your nose nudges his chin from the angle.Â
gloved hands run down your body; one stopping to grope a breast, the other reaching for a handful of your ass. you lean in, instinctually chasing the feel of his body pressed against yours in a kiss, yet finding nothing but the thin air from how heâs hovering above you. you whine from the unfairness â and you feel the way his lip curls into the kiss over the noise.Â
âyouâre so cute,â he coos as he comes to hold your chin, a stark contrast to the way his fingers pinch your nipple. you squeak, which he quickly smothers with his mouth on yours, fingers continuing to rub at the bud until it perks through the fabric.Â
he pulls himself further down on the string, mouth mapping a path down your jaw and neck. nipping with his teeth and soothing with his tongue, eliciting little gasps from you into the night. he kisses all the way down to your chest, pulling your top down enough to free your tits â his mouth latching onto a nipple. you whimper, putty in his hands from how long youâve been waiting to have your boyfriend like this.Â
âplease..â you whine, hands trying desperately to grab at the muscles in his back as he leaves a path of lovebites from one nipple to the next. he hums, listening but not stopping. âplease, yuââ
you gasp as you hear a snapping sound from above you. you blink, and youâre being pushed into the balcony railing, your boyfriend standing before you â mask off, face flushed, eyes wild. you donât get to take in the sight of his pretty face youâve been missing like hell for long, before heâs crashing his mouth back onto yours. the kiss feels even more impatient than the last, and the groan that leaves him is like a spotlight on the bulge pressing into your thigh.Â
âletâs take this insideââ you plead through the kisses, about two seconds away from ripping his damn suit off and jumping his bones.Â
âgot no time, baby,â he mutters as he licks into your mouth. a thought forms, and he chuckles. âwhat about your boyfriend?âÂ
you roll your eyes at his sass, rocking your hips forward just to watch the way his face crumples as you rub up against his boner. you repeat the action, drawing out the rolls of your pelvis, feeling your panties grow damper as they rub up and down his clothed length. yunhoâs heaving at this point â he always loses it over a bit of grinding â before heâs stopping your hips, biceps tensed from the force.Â
âbaby..â he exhales, smiling in disbelief but also in pain of not being able to take you the way he so desperately wants to right now. âi still gotta get back out there. iâll ruin the suitââ
intent on convincing him otherwise, you wedge a hand between your bodies to just grip him through the material. he keels over, face falling onto your shoulder.Â
he groans, dick pulsing in your fingers. âyouâll get me fired one of these days.â
âfired?â you snort. âsince when do you have a boss?â
yunho bucks his hips into your palm, sighing onto your neck. âsince you.â
you crane your neck to kiss him at that â revelling in how heâs unrestrained with all the noises spilling out into your mouth. you remove your hand, and heâs quicker to press his heat back up against yours, both of you sighing in tandem from the relief.Â
you stay like that for a while, getting lost in the warmth of each otherâs mouths, in the pressure of his clothed cock rubbing into the damp ridges of your panties. your grips on each otherâs bodies turning increasingly rough, moans increasingly eager.Â
âtake the night off?â you plea, guiding one of his hands to your breast for some extra convincing. you stifle a giggle at how he gets immediately hypnotised, kneading the flesh between his gloved fingers.Â
he smiles at you, all dopey and in love. âyouâre the boss.âÂ
summary: your physical therapy is getting very physical
tags: physiotherapist!yunho, smut (mdni), reader is painfully horny (especially for yunho's hands), tension, kissing, teasing, fingering; feat. woosan as your bffs
wc: 3.2k
a/n: started writing this back when i went to physiotherapy--but i swear it's only partially inspired by real occurrences, my therapist was very professional
masterlist
Usually, your weekly meet ups with your best friendsâor girlsâ night as Wooyoung liked to call it, even when you were the only one who technically qualifiedâwere your sanctuary, your safe space, your chance to decompress after a stressful week at work. But usually your non-existent sex life wasnât the topic of the night, nor were you interrogated over your relationship to your new physiotherapist. You were quickly starting to regret ever mentioning him or his big hands or cheeky smile orâÂ
âI know I'm barely one to talk,â Wooyoung said, clearly amused over the whole situation and not at all willing to change topic, âbut youâre like pathetically horny.â
âNo, listen,â you started, pointing at him with the pretzel stick youâd been nibbling on. âYunho just hasââ
âYunho?â Wooyoung snorted, âYouâre on first name basis with your physiotherapist?â
âDonât make it weird, thatâs just their policy and it makes it more comfortable too.â
âMhm, right. Except youâre maybe getting a little too comfortable.â
Before you could retort, San let himself plop onto the empty chair at your table. âWhat did I miss?â He asked casually while scanning the drinks menu (as if he didnât already know his order).
âNothing much,â Wooyoung replied, âI'm getting a promotion and y/n wants to fuck her physiotherapist.â
âWoo!â
He looked at you with a raised eyebrow, âWhat, itâs true.â
âItâs not! He justâitâs not my fault that he touched my hips like that!â
âY/n, honey, he was showing you an exercise.â
âWell, yeah, but his hands are just kinda sexy andââ you trailed off when you saw San pulling a face. âWhat?â
San shook his head with a sigh, âGirl, you want to fuck him so bad.â
Maybe your friends had a point, because despite your tiring work day and the way your joints were aching with exhaustion, you found yourself feeling giddy for your next appointment with Yunho. The only thing putting a damper on your mood was that after today you only had one more session left, when really you wished you could keep going forever.Â
The clinic was rather quiet and the lights in the back were already offâyou always had the last time slot of the day and you rarely met other patrons when you came in. Today was no different, the only people you could spot were Yunho and one of his colleagues.
âHey,â Yunho greeted you with a soft smile, briefly looking up before focusing back on where he seemed to be typing something into the computer behind the counter, âOn time as always.â
âOf course,â you replied with a smile, feeling your cheeks heat up for literally no reason at all.Â
âVery commendable,â he grinned and then his eyes darted up to you once more, almost as if he was accessing you, âYou can already get into room 2, Iâm with you in a second,â he nodded towards a door before turning to his colleague, âMingi, can you look this over for me?â
âSure, no problem,â the other man replied, hovering over the screen of the computer too. Your gaze lingered on the scene a second longer, taking in how Yunho adjusted the glasses sitting on his nose, but when he looked up, meeting your gaze in a question, you quickly hurried into the room heâd pointed at. It was a smaller one than usual; the mirror, yoga mats and other equipment you were used to replaced by a massage table that you awkwardly sat down on while you waited. It only took another one or two minutes for Yunho to appear in the doorframe.
âYou were looking kind of tired, so I thought itâs a good idea to do something more relaxing today,â he said as he walked in, closing the door behind him. He had your files in his hand, scribbling something down before leaving the clipboard on the little shelf in the corner, âBut remember you still have to do the exercises at home though. And no slouching.â
âAye, Sir,â you replied with a playful salute that got frozen mid-air when he met your gaze with a smile and a cheeky âGood girl.â Good. Girl. How the fuck were you supposed to survive this?
âAlright,â he continued, all professional, as if he hadnât just hit you out of left field with his comment, âweâll loosen up your muscles a bit, in the neck and upper back area, since thatâs where youâre having the most trouble. Please lay down on your stomach with your head on this side,â he briefly tapped the head rest, âand itâd be good if you removed your top so I have access to your backâI can go out for a second if you prefer.â
You knew there were no hidden motives there, after all he was a professional and this was his job. But the thought of undressing in front of the guy youâd been having somewhat inappropriate thoughts of was still making your heart race.
âUhm, no, itâs okay,â you stuttered, turning your upper body away from him as you slipped out of your shirt, holding the fabric close to your chest. âBâmy bra too?â
âNo, itâs okay, we can justââ he reached out and you felt his fingers gently brush your skin as he pushed the straps of your bra down your shoulders, âmove them out of the way like this.â His touch left goosebumps in its wake and maybe it was your wishful thinking, but you thought his fingers lingered a second longer than necessary. Then he pulled away though, clearing his throat and stepping aside so you had enough space to lie down. He took a seat on a little rolling chair at the top of the table and you could see his legs through the hole of the headrest.
His hands felt warm and soft as he smoothed them over your upper back a few times before he started rubbing out the sore spots in your neck. You felt the way the tension was seeping out of you, making you feel relaxed and at ease. At least until he spoke up again with his sweet honey voice.
âItâs okay if it hurts a little, but if youâre in so much pain that you want to scream, do tell me. We donât want that.â He let his hands move to your left shoulder blade, finding one of your pressure points, âFor it to hurt that badly, I mean. I donât mind if you scream.â He chuckled and you huffed out a laugh as well while your cheeks were heating up for nth time that day. It was a good thing he couldnât see your face right now. âUh, yeah, Iâll let you know," you replied but all you could think about was him making you scream. Your silly brain couldn't help but wonder if he liked a vocal partner.Â
Yunho seemed blissfully unaware of your inner tumult, rubbing out the knots in your back completely unbothered. âThis still okay?â He asked as he moved to another point and you felt yourself gasp a little at the initial pain. It wasnât exactly a bad pain though. Something about the light sting was almost pleasurable.
âStill okay,â you assured and he hummed in affirmation as his fingers kept moving. He was skilled and precise in his ministrations, and you knew he had to be, with this being his literal job, but the thought that perhaps his fingers were skillful in other places too wouldnât leave your mind for the rest of the massage.Â
It was over too quickly for your liking, ended by him gently moving the straps of your bra back up your shoulders. âAlright,â he said, scooting away from the table to give you some space, âThatâs it for today.â
âThanks, I really needed that,â you mumbled as you sat up, just to immediately regret your words. You sounded like a pathetic, touch starved horndog.Â
âMhm,â he hummed and you couldnât read his expression as he took a note in your files, âI could see that.â
âSo, what if I do want to fuck him?â
Wooyoung let out a giggle, âFinally admitting to it, huh?â
âJust go for it,â San advised, âItâs gonna be your last appointment anyway.âÂ
That was a reminder you really didnât want to hear, so you quickly shoved the thought aside in favor of more pressing questions.. âBut whatâs that supposed to mean? How would I even go for it?â
âWell, do it the way you normally would,â Wooyoung said matter of factly, âYou know how to flirt, right?â
âIâI donât. Not like that. I never really tried to get into anyoneâs pants before,â you admitted.
San raised an eyebrow, âSo you just had people coming at you without even trying? What a flexer.â
âDonât tease me, Sannie, you know itâs not like that. Itâs just that thereâs usually dating involved. Iâve never slept with anyone I wasnât at least casually dating.â
âDate him then,â San simply replied but Wooyoung shook his head. âWay too time consuming. She wants a quick fix, not a slow-burn romance. Take this as a learning opportunity, y/nnie.â
âWell, then teach me! What do I do?â
âOh? Teach me?â San said with a smirk, âThatâs kinda hot.â
âI gotta agree, but weâre getting off topic here.â Wooyoung fished a pretzel stick out of the glass on the table and took a bite of it before he continued, âSo, the important thing is to show him youâre interested. But donât make it romantic, you don't want a coffee invite."
"Actually I wouldn't mind a coffeeâ"
"Yeah, and you can have your coffeeâafter taking care of how fucking pent-up you are." He let the rest of his pretzel stick disappear into his mouth, still chewing as he continued, "Heâs your physiotherapist, thereâs gotta be plenty of chances for him to get his hands on you. Just subtly let him know you really like it.â
âYeah,â San agreed, before coming back to his initial advice: âJust go for it.â
For your last appointment he sent you to room number 4, the one with the mirror and the yoga mats and other equipment that you knew all too well. After last week's session you found yourself filled with disappointment. For a moment you stood in the doorway, until Yunho came over, raising an eyebrow at you.
âNot going in?â
Sanâs words were ringing in your head: Just go for it. Wooyoungâs advice on subtlety must have gotten lost on you though, but who was Wooyoung to give that advice anyway?
âUhm, I was thinkingâyou know Iâm feeling kind of tired todayâŠâ You trailed off, your eyes darting over to room number 2, where the ajar door revealed the massage table.
He met your words with a chuckle. âAre you saying you want a massage for our last appointment? Did you like it that much?â
âIt just seemed to really help with my sore spotsâŠâ
âHmm,â he hummed, his arms crossed in front of his body thoughtfully, âI do think we should go through the exercises I taught you at least onceâto make sure you remember them correctly and can do them at home. Donât want you coming back here in another three weeks.â
âYou donât want me to come back?â
Yunhoâs eyes widened for a moment there before he let out a chuckle, âNot if it means youâre in pain again.â
âDidnât you say itâs okay if it hurts a little?â
He shook his head in disbelief, âI feel like Iâm not getting anywhere here, so letâs make a compromiseâfirst a quick run down of the exercises and then for the remaining time you can get on the table for me, hm?â
Get on the table for me. You tried not to think anything of the words heâd chosen, tried not to let your brain warp them until they held a different meaning altogether, but it was hopeless. The worst part was, that you couldnât help feeling like he was doing this on purpose, reveling in the way your gaze turned feverish and your cheeks flushed red with heat.
The quick run down was almost agonizing. He did keep his promise to make it short, but every time he stepped into your personal space to fix your posture, you felt your skin tingling with anticipation and need. When you finally, finally went over to room 2, you were more than ready to skip the massage and go for other activities instead. You pulled yourself together though, and did not jump him the moment he closed the door. Instead, you took off your shirt and laid down on the table like last time. Yunho sat at the head end once more, working his magic on your neck and shoulders. When he moved his hands a little further down your back, they briefly got caught on your bra.
âSorry about that,â he said, his voice calm and smooth.
You bit your lower lip. This seemed like a pretty good chance, didnât it?
âYou can take it off, if you want to. I donât mind.â
He halted for a moment, and maybe if you could see his face youâd be able to read his expression, but with your eyes facing the floor you were stuck wondering what he was thinking.
âAre you sure?â Yunho asked after a moment and there was something in his voice that made it feel like his question wasnât just about the massage.
You swallowed around the lump in your throat. âYeah, Iâm sure.â
It only took a second for him to unhook your bra, the fabric falling to the side of your body. His fingers seemed to trace the place where itâd sat, maybe following the light imprints itâd left behind.Â
âYou have pretty skin,â he said eventually, his voice just a whisper.
âYeah?â Your heart was racing in your chest with nerves and anticipation of what could possibly happen.
âYeah,â his index finger gently wandered over your spine, âIt feels nice to touch.â
âIt feels nice when you touch me, too.â
He hesitated for a moment and the brief silence was killing you. âI could do it more,â he finally said.
âIâd like that.â
âTurn around for me?â
He didnât have to tell you twice, you immediately turned to lay on your back, losing your bra along the way. The moment you were facing up, he leaned down, crashing his lips into yours. The angle was kind of awkward with the way you were technically upside down from his point of view, but neither of you seemed to really care as you devoured each other in a kiss youâd been anticipating for weeks.
When he eventually pulled away, both of you breathless, there was a cheeky glint in his eyes. âIsnât this kind of like spiderman?â he asked and you couldnât help but chuckle.
âI didnât know my hot physiotherapist was a nerd.â
âSo, Iâm hot?â
You rolled your eyes before your hand reached out to pull him close again, âArenât we kinda past that?â
âRight,â he grinned into your lips, âI guess so.â
He kissed you again before he pulled away to get up from his chair, the angle too awkward to really touch, and he was dying to get his hands all over you. You sat up on the table, letting your legs dangle off one side, and he swiftly moved to stand between them, caging you in with his hands on either side of your hips.Â
âWeâre the only ones here, right?â you asked, just to make sure.
âYeah,â he pecked the corner of your mouth before kissing his way to your jaw and then down to your collar bone, âMingi left a while ago and the cleaning staff only comes in the morning.â
âGood,â you leaned back and tilted your neck to give him more access, reveling in the feeling of his teeth grazing your skin.Â
His hands moved to your body, one of them keeping you steady as the other tugged at the hem of your jeans. âCan we take this off?â
You nodded a little too quickly, your hands immediately flying to the button to help him undo it.Â
âSo eager,â he commented with that smug smile of his before he helped you drag the pants off your legs, leaving you in nothing but your panties. He let his thumb lightly rub over the thin and embarrassingly wet fabric, smile growing wider as you let out a little whimper. âWhy do I feel like you havenât been focusing on treatment at all and were instead thinking ofââ he flicked his thumb over your clothed clit, âsomething else?â
âI couldnât help it,â you whimpered, ânot my fault your hands areâlike that.â
He cocked an eyebrow, âLike what?â
âI donât know,â you whimpered once more when his long fingers started to run over your folds, pushing aside your panties to touch you directly, âsexy.â
âThey are sexy? Like, when I fix your posture? Or give you a massage?,â he asked, leaving more bites and kisses on your neck, âOr when I do this?â He slipped one of his fingers into you without warning, making you gasp in surprise.
âYeah,â you pressed out, your mind starting to lose focus as he was moving inside of you, âitâs sexy.â
âThatâs good to hear,â he whispered into your skin before adding a second digit and curling them inside of you. You arched off the table at the sensation of it, your body instinctively trying to get away from the intense feeling, but his other hand on your hip kept you in place. He gradually increased his pace, his fingers mercilessly abusing the sensitive spots inside of you and you were already feeling like you were losing your mind. When he moved his thumb back to your clit, applying just the right kind of pressure, you snapped almost immediately, your high washing over you in a sudden and intense wave. Yunho wasnât letting up quite yet though, still working his skillful hands and prolonging your orgasm until the over sensitivity made you whine. When he finally pulled away, he looked at his fingers for a moment, admiring your glistening juices on them before he licked them clean one by one.
âThat was nice,â he said with a smile, as if you had just done him a service and not the other way round. Still, you agreed with a hazy nod.Â
He pulled your panties back into place before leaning in for a kiss. âHow about I take you out for a coffee sometime?â
âSo, uh, what if I donât want to just fuck him?â
âWerenât we over this?â Wooyoung took a sip of his beer, before your words really registered, âWait, are you saying you have feelings for him?!â
âIâI donât know, heâs justââ you dropped your face onto the table with a sigh, âheâs just so charming.â
"See?" San said with a triumphant grin, "So much for a quick fix."
âWell, then I hope you at least got his number.â
Now a smile spread on your lips, too, âI even got that coffee invite.â
masterlist | pls consider reblogging if you enjoyed this~
Since Yunho was in charge last time in 'Fingers', I figured it was only fair to flip the script. Now the real question is⊠will our pretty boy be good and earn his reward?
The evening had been filled with lingering glances from across the room.
You were wearing that hip-hugging little black dress that Yunho loved so much, and he had been eyeing you all night.
Later, when the last guest had finally left and you were cleaning up the kitchen, he came up behind you.
His arms wrapped around your waist as he pushed himself flush against you, hard cock pressing insistently against your ass. He buried his head in the crook of your neck, hot breath fanning over your skin.
âBabyâŠâ he murmured, voice already rough. âYou look so good tonight⊠youâre actually driving me crazy. Iâve been hard for you all evening and itâs not going down.â
You smiled faintly as you slowly turned around in his arms. âIs that right?â You ran your finger down his chest, looking up at him with your head slightly tilted.
âSoâŠ.are you saying you need some help with that?â
âYes please,â he nodded, dark with need⊠a desperate expression starting to creep onto his face.
You pressed your finger firmly against his chest and began walking him backwards out of the kitchen, guiding him into the living room.
âIâll help you, baby⊠but only if you do exactly what I say.
No rushing, no arguing. You follow my lead and youâll get your reward. Understand?â
He swallowed hard, nodding quickly. âYes⊠Iâll do whatever you want.â
âGood boy.â You kept pushing him back until he was standing in the middle of the room.
âNow unzip your pants and get on your knees for me.â
Yunho obeyed without hesitation, freeing his thick, flushed length.
He sank down to his knees right in front of you, looking up with that perfect needy expressionâŠbrows furrowed, lips parted, eyes already dark and begging.
âWrap your hand around it,â you purred, voice low and seductive. âNice and firm.â
âNow stroke slowly for me, base to tip. I want to watch you make that pretty face while you touch yourself.â
His long fingers curled around his aching cock and started moving exactly as you told himâŠslow, deliberate strokes.
His expression melted into pure bliss: lashes fluttering, mouth falling open as soft, broken moans escaped.
âMmm, yesâŠ,â you cooed, stepping closer. âLook at you, stroking yourself so beautifully. You look absolutely gorgeous like this.â
Does it feel good baby? Tell me while you keep moving your hand just like that.â
âSo fucking good,â he groaned, voice cracking. âBeen throbbing for hours because of youâŠâ
You leaned down, lips brushing his ear. âNow take your other hand and run it up your throat.â
He started moving immediately, sliding his free hand up the beautiful column of his neck.
âYesâŠ.just like that. You are doing so good obeying me like this.â
NowâŠgrip it. Feel how warm you are while you keep stroking for me. I want to you to loose yourself completely.â
Yunho whimpered as his fingers trailed down the long column of his neck before gripping lightly.
The added sensation made him moan louder, his expression intensifyingâŠ.eyes rolling back slightly, brows pinched deeper, mouth open wider as he continued those slow, slick strokes.
You kept talking him through it, voice dripping with teasing sweetness.
âThatâs it⊠squeeze your neck a little tighter while you twist your hand over the head.â
âLook at youâŠall wrecked like this, on your knees, touching your cock and your pretty neck for me.â
âYouâre leaking so much⊠such a good, desperate boy. A little faster now, but donât you dare cum yet.â
His thighs trembled, moans growing deeper and more broken as both hands moved under your control, that blissful, overwhelmed face fully on display.
Right as his breathing turned ragged and his cock pulsed hard in his fist, you grabbed his loosened tie and tugged his head up firmly.
âDonât cum,â you commanded softly. âNot yet.â
Yunho let out a frustrated whine, freezing in place with that wrecked expression frozen on his flushed face.
You smiled and pulled his tie like a leash, dragging him toward the bedroom. âCome on, baby. Time for your reward.â
Once inside the bedroom, you pushed him firmly onto the bed.
Yunho fell back against the mattress, breathing heavily, cock still hard and leaking as he watched you with desperate eyes.
You stepped back slowly, giving him a teasing smile. With deliberate movements, you reached behind yourself and unzipped your little black dress, letting it slide down your body and pool at your feet.
Beneath it you wore a delicate black lace set that barely covered anything, the sheer fabric clinging to your curves, and a garter belt that made his eyes darken even more.
Yunho let out a low, needy groan at the sight, his hand instinctively twitching toward his cock.
He looked so flushed and beautiful, spread out, his long body stretched out and trembling.
His usual confident smirk had melted away, replaced by something raw and unguarded.
This was the face you loved the most.
Brows furrowed in desperate pleasure, lips parted on a broken moan, eyes half-lidded and glassy with overwhelming sensation. That perfect mix of bliss and surrender that only you could pull from him.
You approached him slowly and straddled his hips, settling down on top of him. Hovering just above his throbbing length, you looked into his eyes and whispered softly:
âLet me take care of you, baby⊠Just relax.â
Then you slowly sank down onto his aching cock, taking every thick inch of him in one smooth glide until he was buried deep inside you.
You adjusted for a second, feeling the overwhelming stretch. Then you started rolling your hips in a deep, teasing rhythm, taking him fully every time you sank down.
"Fuck... baby," he gasped, his voice hoarse and wrecked. His hands gripped your thighs hard enough to leave marks, but he didn't guide youâŠhe just held on, lost in how good you made him feel.
You leaned down, brushing your lips against his ear while grinding harder, clenching around him deliberately.
"Look at you," you whispered, nipping his jaw. "Making that pretty face just for meâŠlook at how deep you are, does it feel good baby?"
Yunho's head tipped back against the pillow, exposing the long line of his throat as another low, needy groan escaped him.
His eyes fluttered, struggling to stay open, that blissful expression deepening,.mouth slack, cheeks burning red, lashes wet at the corners.
Every thrust of your hips pulled another helpless sound from him, his cock throbbing hot and thick inside you.
"You're so fucking good to me," he panted, voice cracking as you picked up the pace. "Don't stop... pleaseâŠahh!..."
You kissed him messily, swallowing his moans while riding him faster, chasing the way his body shook under you.
His face was pure ecstasy now, completely undone, eyes rolling back slightly as he got closer, that gorgeous, fucked out expression pushing you closer to the edge too.
"Come on baby," you breathed against his lips. "Let me see it. Let me feel you fall apart.â
With a choked cry, his body seized, face twisting in overwhelming pleasure as he came hard, pulsing deep inside you while moaning your name like a prayer.
You rode him through it, slowing down as his hips finally stopped twitching. Leaning forward, you brushed the damp hair from his forehead and smiled down at him.
âFeel better now?â you asked softly, still gently rocking against him.
Yunho let out a breathless, shaky laugh, eyes still hazy as he looked up at you with pure adoration.
âFuck⊠yeah,â he whispered, voice hoarse. âI swearâŠone of these days, you're gonna kill me.â He pulled you down closer, pressing a firm kiss to your lips.
âBut Iâd die happy,â he added, letting out a satisfied sigh.
You chuckled softly and kissed him again, slower this time, gazing down at him with a loving smile.
âDamn straight, baby,â you murmured against his lips, brushing your thumb gently across his cheek as you got lost at the sight of this beautiful man, flushed and breathless beneath you.
âDont ever forget it nowâŠyouâre all mine to ruin⊠ånd put back togetherâŠ
â pairing: exstripper!reader x billionaireceo!yunho
â chapter warnings: profanity, drinking, age gap (yunho is 37, reader is 26) SMUT â penetration, oral f receiving, cum play, petnames, overstĂmulation, being fucked until ur unconscious, sort of exhibitionsim(?) - mile high club lessgo, grinding, fingering (f recieving), spĂtting, manhandIing, slight humiliation kink, marking/hickies, multiple orgasms, creampies, nipple sucking, nipple play, talking you through it, stretching/size kink, begging, unprotected sex (pls don't do it irl), some really angsty themes and heartfelt moments towards the end! i know i say it takes place in the nineties but i kinda fell off with that theme bc they have cellphones and donât really talk like itâs that time period oops
â synopsis: LIVING IN BEVERLY HILLS comes with its perks. But for two different people such as yourself and multi billionaire business tycoon, Jeong Yunho, both of you canât seem to find what youâre looking for in the so called 'land of dreams'. So the proposal is simple really⊠let him spoil you with money, jewelry and clothes while in return, you stay by his side. . .
â playlist: material girl by madonna, oh, pretty woman by roy orbison, versace on the floor by bruno mars, dirty cash (money talks) by the adventures of stevie v, - and for the finale, I recommend ending it off by listening to easy lovers by piero piccioniâĄ
â a/n: the final chapter is here! *sobs* thank you for SO patiently keeping up with the series! perhaps i'm biased bc yunho is my fav but I just had to go a little more 'all out' for this story of his^^ please don't forget to reblog and i hope you enjoy...
â word count: 14k
m.list | pt 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3
WHEN YUNHO MENTIONED A PRIVATE JET you expected something small, given the simple picture he painted.
As youâve discovered these past few days, Yunho dramatically underestimates the word simple.Â
For him, simplicity meant reclining in the sleek cabin of a luxury jet almost forty thousand feet in the air, decorated with high-quality leather seats and glossy mahogany wood that shined as you were served chilled glasses of cabernet.Â
Thanks to an eventful night, you two were in an even better mood than usual, and that was apparent by the multiple refills of wine and champagne shared amongst other things such as teasing glances and flirty touchesâŠ
The day started off like any other adventure with your tall, handsome, and ridiculously wealthy employer. A morning in L.A, an afternoon in Vegas, followed by an evening wrapped up in starlit San Franciscoâ the city you took off from just now.
After receiving such lavish gifts which included shopping tours, yacht rides and an impressive visit to his personal vineyards, the CEOâs last gift to you was an opera performance you couldâve only imagined to experience in your dreams.Â
âItâs called La Traviataâ, your polished and tuxedo-clad date spoke into the shell of your ear, just as you arrived at your destination earlier that night.
He had guided you up the white marble steps of the entrance, offering his arm to you as he stood tall and unfairly handsome against the crowd. Many other similarly dressed men filled the space. A whole sea of them stood with their wivesâ for some, their mistressesâ flaunting expensive clothing and freshly botoxed faces.Â
In similar timing, an uncomfortable thought momentarily entered your mind:Â
Were you too, just another shadier and even more disposable reflection of these upper class elites?
You glanced over to stare at Yunho, lingering on the idea of how ridiculous it may appear to someone who knew you were a former Hollywood Boulevard stripper attending a high-society opera performance with her billionaire date.Â
However, the flash of anxiety disappears and reshapes itself as soon as you feel the intimidating stares and hear the hushed whispers. Gossip swirls around the crowd of esteemed guests who wondered about who you wereâ the lady in red accompanying their most well-known and eligible bachelor.
Yunhoâs voice saves you from your worries once again.
âI think youâll like tonight's performance,â he admits, softly calling to your name. He looks down, holding eye contact with you and only you, disregarding any other individual that distracts him from admiring your beauty under this antique chandelier tonight.Â
Youâre reminded again of how easy you become lost with Yunho.
Lost in his world, even if it didnât always accept you.
All it takes is a sweet look and you seem to fall right for his stupidly charming manners and protective presence. You smiled back nervously, the rubies embedded in the diamond necklace displayed on your collar bones, rising upwards as you inhaled to swallow back your nerves.Â
âThereâs a lot of people here.â you muttered the obvious, biting your rouge coloured lips as you looked a little intimidated.Â
Yunho chuckles and holds onto your hand tight, leading you effortlessly.Â
âLetâs go find our seats then.â
The talk dies down as you arrive on the upper floors, a private balcony reserved with comfortable seats and complimentary opera glasses too.Â
You quickly turn to Yunho.
âYou hate heights though,â you pointed out, brows furrowing.Â
The businessman chuckles, taking a seat and crossing his legs as you stand to admire the balcony.Â
âBut theyâre the best ones.â Â
When the curtains rise a few minutes later, revealing the opening act alongside booming orchestral music, your heart nearly jumps out of your chest.
Itâs easy to become so immersed from the beginning, eyes glued to the stage for the next two hours as you sat the longest Yunho thinks heâs ever seen you go without fidgeting.Â
It felt too soon for the night to transition into what was now the final sceneâ the trembling voice of the baritoneâs final words to his dying lover, as she succumbs to her tragic death in his arms.Â
Your heart pounds at the sight, the stage becoming blurry as the music grows stronger for the finale.Â
And all at once, the curtains close and the opera ends. Â
You clap the loudest out of everyone sitting near your area once itâs over, and Yunho is pleased nonetheless to see your vivid reaction to the performance.Â
Carefully, his hand slides over to hold your own.Â
âI believe you enjoyed it then?â he teases, taking out a handkerchief and offering it to you as you sniffle on the way to the elevator. An unforgettable ache settles in your chest from the beautiful tragedy, quickly nodding back with no other words to say except how beautiful it was as tears filled your eyes.Â
Your first introduction to the world of opera ended that evening with an arm latched onto Yunhoâs, following the crowd out into the street of waiting cars and limousines.Â
âWhat was your favorite part?â Yunho asks, the corners of his mouth already raised as he wants to hear more of your thoughts, anticipating an enthusiastic response.Â
âGod, it has to be the moment from the garden,â you gushed, your cheeks aching from smiling too much. âThereâs no other scene that was more romantic!â
He wrapped his coat around you as you spoke on and on about the singing and the storyline, ensuring you werenât cold as a night breeze swept past.Â
âThank you, Yunho,â you turn to him and say once you finish, reaching the tips of your heels as you try to peck him on the cheek. He leans down to meet you halfway.
âIâll never forget tonight.âÂ
Your smile causes Yunho to exhale shakily, trying to calm his beating heart and come up with a proper reply back, before something catches your attention from the corner of your eye.
You do a double take to realize a brightly lit hotdog stand was running just across the street. He follows your line of vision.
âLetâs go,â you grinned, tugging on the sleeves of his suit without sparing him another glance. âArenât you hungry?â
Yunho chuckles, judging the dingy street food stand as his brows knit together in a rare display of stubbornness.Â
âYes, but not for that.âÂ
You almost scoff in his face. âOh câmon, Yunho,â you say, interlocking your hands together and insistently dragging him towards the mouth-watering smell.
âYou said you were hungry!âÂ
He had no defense against you.Â
When you reach the hotdog stand, the billionaire stands stiff beside you, hands tucked into his pockets in clear hesitation at the questionable sanitary conditions.
âSweetheart,â he bends down, muttering into your ear whilst pointing towards the unchanged grill.
âThat is not safe, nor fine dining.â
Rolling your eyes, Yunho watches helplessly as you step towards the vendor whilst fishing out a few bills from his own wallet in the pocket of the coat draped over you.Â
âTwo hotdogs with a bit of everything on them, please,â you asked the man, glancing back to the billionaire with an excited smile.Â
âDonât tell me youâre scared of a little weiner, Yunho.â
He frowns, having kept his arms crossed since he entered the vicinity of the cart.Â
âIâm not scared,â he replies calmly. âI just donât see why anyone would willingly consume something made⊠from hereâ he pauses, interpreting the picture of a giddy animated sausage on cart sign.
The vendor being a much older man, shuts your sweet date up with one good stare.Â
Two hotdogs in hand, you thank the owner sweetly and bring Yunho off to the side so you can eat. If he was skeptical at first, hopefully heâd be more convinced by the smell of caramelized onions and smoked sausage wafting through your noses as you handed him one.Â
He looks at the greasy foil.
âI can have my staff make you something on the jet. Something with actual nutritionalââ
But youâve already beaten him to it, taking your first bite of sausage and bun and drowning out his words as you smiled in bliss.Â
âOh god,â you groaned dramatically, eyes shut as you consumed the satisfying food.Â
Yunho watches you carefully with reluctant amusement, one hand still buried in his pockets that has yet to unwrap the silver foiled hotdog.Â
Seeing how happy you were makes him reconsider.Â
All jokes aside, what was he waiting for? If the taste was that special to you, he wanted to experience it as well.Â
Yunho takes his hand out from his pocket and unwraps the foil, bending down to take a big, solid bite encasing sausage, condiments, and toppings.Â
It was quiet for a moment, both of you chewing slowly before your date reluctantly smiles with full cheeks, nodding his head.
âItâs goodâŠâÂ
You grin proudly, swiping a pickled jalapeno slice off of his hotdog.
âNot so bad, right?â
And just like that, you and Yunho shared a casual yet comfortable dinner before heading back onto the private jet. Two hot dog combos and many shared conversations later, fast food wrappers laid scattered across the glass table. A bottle of champagne and fresh white peaches present for dessert.Â
âSo,â you grinned proudly, shuffling your bare feet closer on the seat as your heels laid discarded somewhere.Â
âI just introduced you to your first hotdog, then?â
The bowtie of Yunhoâs black tuxedo is long gone, draped carelessly over the armrest, as the older man leans back into the leather seat. The dim cabin lights cast a soft golden hue across his jawline as he gestures to the mess on the table.Â
âIâve had them before,â he corrects, like itâs a fact of deep importance that heâs not that bred in upper class luxury.Â
You suspected the opposite.
âWell the ones you had probably werenât even real,â you argued with a roll of your eyes, imagining hor d'oeuvre cocktail sausages or something else ridiculous.Â
âIf a ârealâ hotdog comes from a dingy little stand on the corner of a street, then sure,â he says with a bite of amusement. âI'll let you educate me then.âÂ
You hold down a smile. âSee! Youâre learning!â
Yunho shakes his head, revealing a full smile which tells you heâll let you have this one.Â
Who knew this would be so natural with someone like him. That despite the expensive tours and shopping sprees, what fulfilled you the most these past few days was sitting here, barefoot, eating three-dollar hot dogs, discussing life and the events of your separate pasts.Â
Itâs true that the world you're flying above right now belongs to people like Yunho. People with money, wealth, and unlimited freedom. But right now, up here in these clouds, it feels like this tiny corner of the sky belongs to you too.
âWhat do you want to do tomorrow?â he asks while sitting across from you, eyebrows raising as he takes another swig of champagne.Â
Your head rests against the fabric of the leather seat, eyelids shutting closed as you ponder.Â
âIt'll be my last day,â you mumbled carefully, the clarity of your words catching you off guard the second they leave your mouth.Â
Yunho stills for a moment.Â
âThat canât be.â the billionaire murmurs back, holding his gaze on the rim of his wine glass. It doesnât settle with him well either.Â
The cabin goes quiet all of a sudden. Empty, yet filled with realization neither of you wants to name. It was all according to your agreement.
Four days.
Eight thousand dollars.
That was the deal.Â
To think youâd place so much weight on a job that was always meant to be short-lived. It was hard to believe time had gone by so quickly.
Very soon, this fairytale lifestyle youâd been living with would disappear with a simple goodbye, and you and Yunho would return to your respective places in the world. Him, conducting meetings, flying in private jets, and bargaining billions over company titles, while you remained as a waitress, barely making enough to afford milk that was past its expiration date.
The chain of events set into motion the night that armed gunman tried to rob the convenience store, had led you somewhere youâd never imagined possible. Meeting Yunho, spending time with himâhaving him care for you so effortlessly and spoiling you with money, but also more warmth and tenderness than you knew what to do withâ felt unreal.Â
Youâve spent your whole life yearning for someone like Yunho. But it's hard to consider whether someone like Yunho could ever need or be satisfied with someone like you.
Imperfections and all.
âI feel as though I still know so little about you,â he says, breaking your inner monologue as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees.Â
âTell me, what was your past like? Iâm curious to know what you were like in your early twentiesâ he grinned, amused at the thought of an even more bold and unafraid image of yourself.
You find yourself looking away.
Young, dumb, and dancing naked for money. Thatâs what you were doing in your early twenties.Â
â...I used to dance.â you responded with a tinge of hesitation, swallowing lingering discomfort down your throat that always followed when you brought up your past.Â
It wasnât entirely a lie. You just left out the part that you danced to entertain people waving wads of cash that would keep you from resorting to worse situations awaiting you on the streets.
For you, and for countless girls like Miko youâd met during those nights at the club, it had all been about survival. You werenât completely ashamed of your previous job, and thatâs because it was more than just how others saw it and because you knew that it isnât something anybody can do.Â
Sure, at first you thought the experience was manageable. Fun even. Though that was probably because you were young and uninformed. But with no real backup plan and no proper college degree, dancing was a way to get by. Convincing yourself the sore muscles, unfair treatment, and wandering hands were simply things you had to endure. As though your entire existence was for anyoneâs taking, disposable and easily forgotten.Â
After obtaining your current job, you realized how important it was to make choices that didnât force you to go back to that life.Â
âA dancer?â Yunho repeats. âI never knew you danced,â he smiled warmly.Â
âI work as a waitress nowâ you replied back, unknowingly picking at the nail of your thumb in habit. âItâs not much, but itâs better than what I was doing beforeâ
It was at this moment you found yourself standing on the edge of something you didnât know how to step into, words staying stuck behind your teeth. Telling Yunho about your past felt less like honesty and more like setting yourself up to be judgedâlike another lap dance you werenât sure you had the guts to finish.
Yunho doesnât rush you. He never does.
Instead, he studies you in that observative way of his. Like he already knows everything you canât bring yourself to say. He exhales softly, standing from his seat to shift closer beside you, pulling a soft, folded blanket from somewhere.
Without asking, he drapes it around your shoulders, tucking it in as though heâs trying to keep you from slipping too far into your own thoughts. Then, you feel his hand come up to gently brush a strand of hair away from your face, his touch careful enough that it felt almost like permission.
âYou know, people like to create stories out of what they can see.â His gaze drops for a moment, deciding how much of himself he can give you in return.
âIn my case, itâs a bit ironic. Everyone sees the heir. The family name. The brand that can become just another financial assetâŠâ
You stare back into his eyes, listening carefully.Â
âPeople think they understand the shape of my life just because they can name it.â Yunho states laced with a heavy tone.
âBut what most people donât see⊠is that I was adopted. And a lot of what Iâve been calledâwhat Iâm expected to beâwas decided long before I even understood what any of it meant.â
His words hang in the air for a moment, unadorned and leaving you in a bit of shock. You think back to the conversation with the Chairwoman, the night Yunho had that business dinner.Â
âNo one can learn much when they're surrounded with shadows, darling. But in truth, thatâs all that Yunho has had up until now.â
âBusiness makes it worse,â he continues quietly. âBecause itâs never really about truth. Itâs about perception. About what people choose to believe is true. And sometimes that perception gets twistedâby ambition, by greed, andâŠâ his words die off, knuckles clenching around the fabric of his pants as if heâs recalling a distasteful memory.
â... by people you thought would know better. Even family.â
Thereâs a brief pause, something heavier flickering behind his expression. You already know what he means by your conversation with Madame Choi.
She hinted towards something about Yunho's past, the strained relationship he had with his relatives clawing for the title of heir.
In an act of support, you reach and grab his shaking hand, taking it away from digging itself in him and interlocking fingers with his own.Â
It was your way of telling him you were here. That you were listening.Â
âIâve always had people close to me try to take pieces of my life like it was just⊠up for claiming,â he says, more factually than bitter. âAnd I learned early that no one is really what they look like from the outside. Not completely.â
Panic settles in as you worry he's caught on.
Instead, his eyes return to you now softer, shifting the weight away.
âIâm not telling you this because Iâm perfect. Iâm telling you because Iâm not. No one is.â
A small breath leaves him, like heâs releasing something heâs held for too long. Yunho leans closer, careful with what comes next.
âYâknow, I think everyone is deserving of a bit of grace. To be given another chance. Even that stupid boy, Choi San, who wonât let me buy his grandparents companyâ he jokes flatly, gaze flickering over your face when you let out a small chuckle.Â
He thinks he could crack a million more bad jokes if it means heâll hear that sound again.Â
Yunho pulls you much closer, his nose almost hitting your own as he refuses to let your strict self-judgment distort the image you carried of yourself.
âSo if you feel out of place, like youâre an imposter in this world, let me tell you Iâve been doing the same all my life. I feel as though Iâm living a lie every single fucking dayâ he mutters, the two of you sharing breaths now from the close proximity.Â
Your breathing changes, feeling the warmth of his body close to your own.Â
The billionaireâs voice softens, keeping it steady.Â
âAs someone who lies to live, and works among people who lie just as easily, Iâve learned to value authenticity. Itâs not about what others think." he states.
"People will always see what they want to see anyway.â
Suddenly, his eyes flicker down to your soft lips, parting with a distinct type of desire. But he doesnât kiss them just yet.Â
âAnd what I see is a very brightâŠâ
First, a gentle kiss to your forehead.Â
âVery beautifulâŠâ
A kiss to your nose.
And he stops in front of your lips before whispering softly. The truth he's starting to believe in more than his painstaking business deal.
â...very special woman.â
Silence fills the space between you, the sounds of the plane engine whirring as you look into the eyes of the man sitting in front of you.
Yunho releases a small breath when you lean forward to collide your lips with him, connecting your mouths in yearning and full vulnerability. The air in his lungs is knocked out, hungrily reaching and grabbing at each other just to feel the sensation of your lips connecting in undwindling passion.Â
A squeeze and grope follow here and there with each other's bodies, tongues swirling with utter obsession.
Yunho immediately reciprocates your bold move by pulling your body closer to his, fighting a straining feeling that builds in the confines of his pants. It doesnât feel like itâs enough for Yunho, so his two strong arms grip around your waist, pulling your lips apart momentarily in a surprised, breathy moan, as youâre now maneuvered to straddle thick, strong thighs.Â
âI meant everything I said,â he whispers breathily, a large hand coming to stroke the back of your head softly as the other grazes your face so you look at him properly.Â
âYou are special."
An overwhelming sense of gratitude floods your emotions. You didnât notice it at first, but fresh tears have escaped your eyes, coating your eyelashes as you look back at Yunho.
The older one brings a thumb to cascade over your wet cheeks.Â
âCâmon now, donât cry sweetheartâ he grins softly, feeling the need to protect yet also tease the sight of you becoming all teary eyed and begging for his touch.
He presses a quick kiss back to your lips once more, pulling back to whisper tantalizingly into your year.
âYou haven't even taken my cock yet.âÂ
Thatâs when you realize tears werenât just dripping down your cheeks, but now also down your legs.
Yunho was determined to show just how hungry he was for you. Just how much he wanted to love you, to fuck you, to taste and share only the good things in life with the women he just met four days ago in a dingy convenience store on Hollywood Boulevard.
That night must've really changed both your lives.
Whimpers escape your throat as you attempt to taste Yunhoâs devotion. Your knees struggle to support your body weight, keeping you hovering over his crotch with carefulness not to sit down on the aching mound just yet, though youâre curious of the sensation it'll bring.
Yunho lets his hands settle around your waist, grip firm as he releases tension you were holding on to, pulling apart to finally give you both some breath.
âCâmon sweetheart. You can sit on it.â
He was starving for a taste of you.Â
âYunho.â
Your breath hitches as his hands wander, pushing your thighs to relax and spread even more so your wet core settles over the gigantic mound of fabric hiding his leaking, hard cock.Â
âFuck,â he stutters, his breath tickling your neck and he inhaled your scent deeply. He was unstoppable, he just had to feel you.Â
âI want you,â he mutters, coming out muffled against bare skin. âWant you so bad.âÂ
You were no different. Pawing at the buttons of his crisp white shirt that was becoming wrinkled with every passing second you gripped and released the material, finding something to hold on to as your hips rocked back and forth slowly, nudging your leaking bud against imposing layers.Â
âAh- Yunho-â you gasped, feeling him kiss the crook of your neck, his mouth growing wider and more insatiable as he trails further down, drool forming near the corners of his mouth.Â
Never of you had been this needy before.
âYouâll let me have a taste, wonât you sweetheart?â he groans, letting a large hand smack the flesh of your ass covered by your dress. A whine rolls off your tongue, echoing in the quiet passenger cabin as you nod fervently, disoriented sounds leaving you while clutching onto his shoulders to keep your soaking cunt attached to his pants.Â
Yunho brings a hand to slide over your shivering bare thighs, exposed to the cool air because of the small leg slit you had on the side of your dress. With every touch, the slit stretches wider in your position, making you weak to the billionaireâs greed.Â
He grits his teeth, staring at your breathless expression when he shoves your lace panties to the side and lets the long digits of his index, middle and ring finger slide against the slick of your cunt.Â
âJesus, youâre fucking soaked.â he grunts, throwing his head back as his digits do all the work in opening you up for him. Then all at once, he dives all three in, stretching you out perfectly like no had ever done before.
You scream, overwhelmed by how full you already feel with his two thick fingers.Â
âOh p-pleaseee- fuck! sâtoo much Yunho!â you pant like a whore, making him stretch his fingers even wider to feel you suck him in so lewdly.Â
âSlow downââÂ
âDo you feel how deep I am, sweetheart?â he cuts you off, his hips jutting up so he too can achieve some sort of relief. You notice, a hand reaching down, traveling through the tight web of limbs help him by laying your palm over his hardness. Just a simple touch andâ
âHands off.â Yunho quickly orders, bringing your hand away as he holds onto your wrist tightly.Â
âThe hell do you think youâre doing?â he scolds, his business tone coming out as he orders you to only take his fingers, planning to save his cock for the one thing he wants most:
Your swollen, puffy cunt.
Itâs incredibly unfair, how helpless you feel as his right hand pummels his digits faster into your hole, the sound of filthy squelching noises filling the room as he doesnât even mind your cries of ecstasy.
âHow many dâyou think Iâve got inside you, hm?â he toys with you, getting off on your shaking body and quivering nub like the perverted CEO he was. You canât even answer from the moans youâre releasing.
And here you thought Yunho was going to fuck you gently after all that talking.Â
âFucking tight,â a breath escapes his lips without even knowing.
You squirmed, eyes squeezing shut.
It seems as though thereâs been a huge misunderstanding on the type of man Yunho was.
The businessman wonât waste time treating you like the queen you wereâ showering you with gifts, bags, clothes, and jewelry that can make you start to think he wants to put a ring on you and have you carry his babies.Â
Which, with the way youâre taking him right nowâ quivering and crying out his name in broken little whimpers, even as his wrist starts to ache from how long he's been bullying his fingers in and outâ heâs starting to genuinely consider it.
But youâve been expertly deceived.
Yunho isnât a gentleman. Heâs one sick, obsessed bastard that longs to touch, finger, and fuck your gummy walls to a state of complete ecstasy.
âI⊠I really canât hold on much longerââ
He loves that. Loves that youâre broken down to a mess of slick and sweat like this. He latches his mouth back onto yours as he feels you clench harder with every passing minute around his digits.Â
âGonna cum for me? My sweet, sweet girl is gonna cum?- hah fuck-â he coos, holding back and focusing on making you spill first.
He was almost there. He just needed to make you cum first and prep you real good so you could take him raw.Â
âYes Yes fuck- ngh Yes, Yunhoââ you sobbed, too overstimulated to say anything else. Yunho releases the wrist heâs been holding onto since before, letting his hand come up to swipe some spit from his mouth before he shoves his wet fingers into the open cleavage of your dress, thumbing your sensitive tits with his drool.
Oh god, now heâs really done it.
âCum for me, sweetheart.â he grunts in one final thrust.
Thatâs what sends you over the edge completely, shoving your cries and open mouth moans into the fabric of Yunhoâs dress shirt, hiding your face in the crook of his neck as your body convulses from the intense orgasm. Soft praises reach the shell of your ear.
âLook at you..â He coos proudly, kissing you gently on your cheek.
âTook my fingers like a fucking champ.â
You wince at the sudden emptiness as he pulls out, despite him trying to slide his fingers slowly for your sake.Â
You lean back to watch the man with tired eyes, feeling a shiver run down your spine as Yunho maintains full eye contact while bringing his tongue out to lick at your slick. Closing his eyes and groaning pathetically at how sweet you tasted.
âFucking pervert,â you exhaled, ignoring the deep laughs proudly leaving the CEOâs sweaty chest under his unbuttoned dress shirt.
Itâs not long before the rest of the buttons are opened, revealing his toned chest as the top of your dress gets shoved down to spill out your soft tits for Yunho to latch on to.Â
âYunho!â you reply in shock, not realizing how fast he was going to dive into them. âSlow down!â
âBut Iâm in love with your tits.â he confesses though it comes out muffled. As if justifying his hunger.
Youâre still straddling Yunhoâs thighs, though now, youâre in an awkward stage of being partially naked, partially clothed, with only the essential barriers out of the way for you to take his cock properly now.Â
He unbuckles his pants to free his member, letting the long, girthy tip slap you against your abdomen as your dress has become ruined with the way itâs scrunched so high to reveal your ass completely.Â
Yunho takes a hold of his shaft and pumps himself a couple times. You watch him as he does so, a spark shared between you two just as he taps his tip against your puffy folds. Heâs ridiculously proud of the way heâs prepped you so well for him.Â
âReady?â he stills, taking a moment to hold back from the obsession to really make sure you wanted this. Wanted him.Â
You nod, grinning softly.Â
Long forgotten is the conversation you were going to have with him about your past. Now replaced with a bodily confession that was more important to you and him right now.Â
You figure youâll tell him laterâŠ
âJust take me, Yunho,â you pleaded softly.
He smiles, kissing you again as he finally swats his cock in between the leaky opening.
All at once, you feel his incredible girth that you were waiting for this whole time, stretching you out, and throwing your head back as far as it would go.
You nod, eyes clasped shut at the delicious feeling you craved. No one could fuck you this good again.Â
âF-Fuuck, gorgeousâŠâÂ
Yunho keeps his strokes against your pulsating walls slowly but so precisely it drives you to the brink of insanity. And yet, he canât seem to stop watching you in awe the entire time. The way you let out soft screams when he hits so deep, right in the perfect spot. The way your hair is let loose, messy and free while your back arches so sinfully yet beautifully.Â
Your body felt holy. A temple for him to worship.
And he's purring in your ear, telling you how good you are to him, how well you're taking his fingers and how beautiful you look taking them
The squelching sound from before comes back, even louder this time as it accompanies each skilful pump of Yunhoâs cock instead of his fingers.Â
As youâre babbling upon his sheer length, Yunho clasps onto one side of your hips. Using the rest of the energy and strength he has in him, he helps you bounce on his dick, riding your godforsaken high through the shaking of your thighs.Â
You squeeze around him, making him curse wildly. Itâs enough to also whimper from the stinging feeling that comes back each time.Â
âPleaseââ
You tense, feeling a familiar feeling creeping up on you.
âPlease what?â He held firm even as you glared weak little daggers down at his face, looking up with his shirt open and a burning desire behind wild eyes.Â
âYunho Iâm not kidding, Iâm g-gonnaââ
Heâs too distracted, too lost in the intoxicating sight of his cock drilling through your hole, having not taken his eyes from where you were connected. He already knows what you mean. How close you were to finishing. So he changes his pace, rutting relentlessly, hips snapping harder as he chases the view of your tits shaking in his face, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
âFuck, fuck, fuuuuuckâyes.â
âGonna cum?â He asks with baited breath. âGonna let loose for me, my love?
You just whine, crying and bouncing and nodding and nodding because that was all you were capable of doing right then and there.
In a complete mess of sweaty limbs and hot, flushing cum, you both reach your pinacles. The pace turns slower, enough for you to hug Yunho closer and whisper words of chastisement for how rough he was with you. When Yunho calmly kisses you and asks if it was too much though, you canât help but shake your head and sink your pussy deeper, showing him that you still loved every second of it.Â
Just as heâs about to grab a tissue from nearby and clean you up, a soft bleep of the intercom echoes a slightly discomforted voice, stilling only Yunhoâs body who has enough consciousness to register the current situation. You're too far gone, using a small remaining amount of energy to grip onto the fabric of his shirt for dear life.
âUmâMr. Jeong,â the pilotâs voice crackles awkwardly through the speaker, followed by a brief pause that feels far too long to be professional.Â
âWeâll be arriving at the hotel in about ten minutes, so I, uhâŠâ another cough. âI ask that you please observe the seatbelt sign and fasten your seatbelts as we prepare for landing.â
A beat passes, raising your head to look drowsily up at Yunho when you hear a much quieter, comment from the pilot:Â
âAndâum. My apologies for the interruption.â
A small smile creeps upon your tired face, relief washing over you as Yunho holds you close and reassures you.
âDonât move. Iâll take care of you.â
The promise sounds as soft as heâs ever been. He leans forward and grabs a glass of water for you to take a quick sip from, followed by a cloth to clean your slick.
âIâll give you everything, all the money I have,â Yunho mutters in a state of hypnosis, eyes glistening as he looks down at you lying against his chest so peacefully.
You wonder if your ears deceive you when you hear a quiet plea that borders on begging.
âJust stay with me longerâŠâÂ
The last thing you remember is warmth.
And releasing a soft âOkayâ.
When you come back to your senses, you find yourself stirring awake in a large, familiar bed, a vast cold area of mattress greeting you from beside. The empty sheets of cotton and silk surround you with a bare feeling of comfort as you squint at the clock on the bedside table.Â
Four am. And Yunho was nowhere in sight.Â
Your bare body shivers as you sit up and the covers fall down, exposing you to the empty room. Your head spins a little, probably from all the drinks you had earlier in the plane.
The plane.
Suddenly, it comes rushing back, the events that happened on the jet. Yunhoâs confession â his way of telling you that you didnât need to feel ashamed of yourself to him. The way you were going to tell him about your past and the reasons that led you to this point.Â
And then the sex.
Your core almost tingles at the memory with Yunho. Fucking you so good you passed out unconscious.Â
Sighing as you rubbed your temples, you reach for the nearest piece of fabric that could warm you upâ his navy robe that sits on a chair nearby.Â
The soft material weighs you down, it's sleeves clearly too big for you but not minding much as you step over the soft, carpeted hotel floor. When you shuffle out of the room and down the steps to the first floor, the wide city view through the windows captures endless buildings glowing against the night, showing a city that never seemed to need sleep at all.
Quite similar to someone you trying to find.Â
As if on cue, your body does a little jump back in surprise when you turn and catch Yunho leaning against the marble countertop of the open kitchen, bare chested as a pair of blue gingham pajama pants hung low on his waist.Â
âJesus!â you muttered, squinting when you saw the tall man turn with what appeared to be a tub of half-eaten vanilla ice cream. The metal spoon was warm in his hands from grasping it for so long.Â
âDid I wake you?â Yunho replies calmly, paying you no mind.
âIâm sorry,â he coos, like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar.Â
You sigh, gently paddling over cold tiles as your hands reach and grasp the ice cream like it was yours. You inspect the container, brows quirking.
Yunho lets you do as you please, as if everything belonged to you.Â
You sigh as the chilling taste of creamy rich vanilla hits your mouth, using his spoon to dig a shallow crevice in the melted dessert and feed on it.Â
âYou didnât wake meâŠâ you pointed out, feeling the man dip his head into the crook of your neck and leave kisses all along the area. You shivered from his cold lips.
âWhat are you doing up so late?â You asked, enjoying your ice cream whilst Yunho enjoyed you, inhaling your soft scent once more.
âYou seemed so peaceful, I didnât wanna disturb youâ he mumbled. You smile quietly to yourself, realizing how this big, intimidating CEO of a powerful business corporation could easily mimic a lost puppy just by being in your presence.
âYeah right. You probably just wanted this whole tub for yourself.â you muttered, feeling his lips turn upwards against your skin.Â
Yunho raises his head to face you properly, caressing your face as he focuses on your features. You swallow carefully as you ask the next question.
âWhat happened after we landed?âÂ
His face is illuminated by moonlight. Yunhoâs lips slowly grinned at the memory. âI cleaned you up, buckled you in, and we landed on the rooftop of the hotel where I brought you to my room to restâ he stated, bringing his right thumb to brush away the corner of your mouth as ice cream was left smeared. He brings it to his mouth, sucking the sweetness without breaking eye contact.
âWas I too much?â He canât help but ask with caution, leveling with you as he gazes deep into your eyes. A look of concern flashes over his face.Â
You shook your head, amused by his protectiveness. He brings his arms to connect around your waist, hugging you closer to inspect the hickies littered all over your neck. He almost gets hard again from the sight and hearing your answer at the same time.
âNope. I liked itâ you assured him, whispering seductively to his ear.
You break into laughter as Yunho playfully tickles the sides of your body in response.Â
To be fair, your hickies werenât that bad compared to his shoulder and back muscles left with various bites and scratches. Lingering evidence of hanging onto Yunho as he fucked you so well.
âOf course you did.â he sneers at you proudly, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips as you swallow a bite of cream.Â
You both taste incredibly sweet, and you fear itâs not just from the sugar.Â
âYunho..â you began as you pulled away, watching his eyes narrow in on your lips as he leaned forward in greed of another kiss. You stopped him as you put the ice cream container down the counter and rested your hands against his bare chest.
âDid you mean what you said on the plane?â
His eyes soften.Â
âOf course I did. I think youâre a very specââ
ââNot just about me. But about wanting me to stay⊠longer?â you drawled out carefully, looking up at him for an explanation.
Yunho pauses for a moment.
âDo you really think thatâs a good idea?â you confess, breaking a wonderful illusion with realistic questions you knew you couldnât just ignore.
Yunho furrows his brows.
âOf course, why wouldnât it be?â he says, scanning your expression.Â
When you look down, refusing to meet his eyes, Yunho gently hoists you up to sit on the counter, coming closer to look at you as his hands lean against the kitchen countertop and cage you in.Â
âTalk to me, sweetheartâ he pleads, his tone gentle and calm.
You inhale once and exhale quietly, waiting with baited breath to think of how you wanted to say this.Â
You slosh the spoon around in the tub of melted ice cream beside you, searching for a distraction.
âI really donât think I belong here,â you uttered softly, reality hitting you.Â
Your thoughts are elsewhereâback to the history of judgement and outcasting youâve experienced from so many people when they found out you were formerly a stripper.
How easily affection can be conditional.
Like the moment they all learned the truth, you stopped becoming human and started becoming temporary. Disposable. Something to indulge in quietly, then look down on openly.
Your own family, friends back home, even previous partners as well.
The worst thing about it was that theyâre right. In their eyes, how could you not be easily discarded?
You believe Yunho would eventually think the same as well.
Cause at the end of the day, all you were was an escort that was paid for the sum of four days, just to provide him with company and sex that was hidden in various contract terms, that could never actually amount to more than what was agreed upon.Â
He stills, as if he can listen to what you were thinking.
âBut I think youâre exactly where you should be,â he says with such certainty.Â
Your heart clenches from looking up and seeing Yunho continuously shower you with this endless affection you didnât deserve.Â
In habit, you begin to deny him first for your own sake. Refusing to get your hopes up as you tried to pull the billionaire from the outrageous idea.Â
âIâm not,â you swallowed back, shaking your head. âI-Iâm really not because if you realized what Iâve done, Yunho, youâd feel disgusted like any other-â
âWhy should it matter where either of us are from or what weâve done?â he protests, not holding back.Â
âWeâre together now, arenât we?â
You exhale uncomfortably from his words. Probably because you know heâs being so sincere with you like he's always been, even when you havenât done the same with him.Â
Yunho takes the ice cream carton from out of your hand, placing it gently on the counter and slotting his body in between your spread thighs. You gasp, flinching when the cold marble comes in contact with your skin.
âIâll prove it to you.â
It's not long before Yunho is eating you out, bare ass against his kitchen counter, grabbing onto cold marble for support as his jaw opens and closes with feverish tasting.
The conversation canât slip away like this again!⊠you plead, brain fogging as Yunho presses compliments against the skin of your thighs.
âDon't bring yourself down, love.â
He pulls back, smooth, strong chest rising and falling as he captures the image of you spread out for him, moonlight catching on your wet, shiny bud as he gathers something in his mouth.
You jump when a forceful contact hits your sensitive mound.
Yunho just spit a dollop of saliva onto your pussy, watching with baited breath and pure obsession as it drips down your slit and into the deeper crevice. He shudders when your hole instinctively sucks it in.
Fucking. Hell.
âYunho...â you muttered with a firmer voice, trying not to let your temptations distract you from what youâve been meaning to tell him.Â
If he has to hear the truth, it needs to come from out of your own mouth.
A faint ringing noise echoes from across the marble counter, a corded telephone echoing as a call comes through.
You look up, neck straining as you question the ringing so early in the morning.
âSâfine. Probably just front deskâ he hushes, closing his eyes as he laps up your juices, his arms bulging as he grips your thighs open to prevent them from closing.
âShouldnât you answer it still?â you squirmed, moaning as Yunho shook his head, causing his sharp nose to brush against your nub too.
âNope.â he mumbles, utterly lost in between your legs. It just doesn't sit right with you still.
âYUNHOâ you breathed out loudly, finding the strength to push him back and grasp his wet chin, staring back at pussy-drunk eyes.Â
âI think you should answer itâ you huff firmly, growing weak when he sighs and pecks you on the mouth, sharing the taste of slick.
With a groan, his long upper body reaches for the phone, picking it up as he presses one last chaste kiss to your lips, sliding his hand on your spread thighs to grope you in the ass.
You slap him hard, yelping as he smirks evilly and brings the receiver to his ear.
âJeong Yunho speakingâ, eyes never leaving your own as he continues to kiss your legs.Â
You shuffle, biting your lips at the ticklish feeling, unaware of the storm waiting on the other end of the line.
âWhere the fuck have you been?â
It was his lawyer, Patrick. And he sure didnât sound as happy Yunho was at the moment.
âBusyâ he hums, continuing to tickle you with his obnoxious kisses.Â
You scold him, softening when he intertwines his hand with your own.
âI can tell.â His lawyerâs voice comes out flat, hiding a grim, menacing tone. Papers shuffle aggressively through the speaker.Â
âTell me something, Yunhoâwas this weekend supposed to secure the Marinex corporation, or was it supposed to become a vacation?â
Patrick has finally earned his attention because Yunhoâs expression immediately cools.Â
âExcuse me?â
âYou heard me,â Patrick says bluntly. âYou skip one of the most important acquisition meetings this quarter, leave the Choi family sitting there questioning whether youâre capable of rebuilding their company, and suddenly nobody can get a hold of you.â
Your smile leaves as you watch his expression fade, clutching Yunhoâs robe closer to your body.
The CEO straightens slightly, forgetting his playful demeanor and replacing it with his business side he had coexisted with for all of his adult life.Â
âIâve talked to their grandson,â he argues. âThe contract wasnât finalized because of hesitation on Mr. Choiâs part, not because of me. I clearly pushed the agenda that we could rebuild his family's company and remake it into something triple the price he was offeringââ
âNo, Yunhoâ Patrick cuts him off coldly. âHis grandmother made him hesitate because they think youâve become distracted.â
A tense silence follows.Â
âAnd we both know why.â
Yunhoâs jaw tightens.
âItâs because of that girl, isnât it?â Patrick mocks condescendingly into the phone.Â
His eyes flick toward you instinctively. You stare back, a lump forming in your throat.
âPatrick,â he warns quietly, jaw clenching. But his lawyer continues.
âWell guess what? While you were off playing with your playboy bunny in Beverly Hills, the Choi family did their own digging.â
Yunhoâs grip on the phone stiffens.Â
âAnd I think youâre going to want to see what they found.â With a sigh, Patrick leans into his office chair and lights a cigarette while speaking into the phone.
âI sent a package to your suite and had them leave it on your kitchen counter.â
His eyes dart toward the thick brown file thatâs gone unnoticed, sitting by itself on the edge across from you both.Â
Your eyes slowly followed, grasping Yunhoâs arm carefully as an ominous feeling fell upon the room.Â
âYunho, what is it?â
He leans forward and turns the cover.
The moment he opens the file, the air leaves the room. Photographs stare back at him instantly.
You beneath neon lights. Onstage. Lines of white powder served on your chest. Contorted into a vision of pure sex for hungry clients to see.Â
Patrick puffs out a cloud of smoke as his voice lowers.Â
âSheâs a stripper, Yunho. You paid eight grand to let some washed up, crack-whore stripper spend the weekend with you.â Patrick snickers, venom laced in his voice.Â
It all comes crashing down in an instant.
Because no matter how warm Yunho had made you feel, the truth of who you were finally followed you here too.
And suddenly, you feel so entirely exposed. Even while wearing a robe with his initials on it.
The carton of sticky vanilla ice cream somehow becomes spilled upon the marble countertops, leaving one giant mess.
At least this one could be solved. Yourâs was a bit more complicated to say.
âWhy didnât you tell me?â Yunho states quietly, calling out your name.Â
Itâs frightening how calm he is. Not a single expression of disgust, resentment or anger building upon his face despite knowing how badly he must want to throw those awful photos in your direction.
Yunho would never. Heâs too good for that.Â
His question cuts deeper than it should. Typically, you would have retaliated with a bit more emotion. Confess with tears and beg for forgiveness as you explained your reasons.Â
Instead, your laugh comes out hollow. This was the end of your contract either way.Â
âWould you have looked at me the same if I did?â
His brows pull together immediately. âThatâs not what I askedââ
âYou didnât know,â you interrupt, stepping back from him. âThatâs the only reason any of this worked.â
Yunho exhales sharply, rubbing a hand across his jaw as the remaining pressure from the call still hangs over him like smoke.Â
Patrick's quiet threat was more than just targeted to you. His words also held importance to that fact that if Yunho wanted to secure his highly expensive grand scheme of business relations heâs been building upon since his parentâs death â particularly by avoiding a news scandal with a former stripperâ he would have to pull himself together and take care of his image with Marinex corporation first, as they had the upper hand in this case. And that meant surrendering to the Choi's.
âYou liked me because you thought I could help you play it safe.â you fought back. "To relieve your needs and make you feel better."
âThis isnât about that.â
You look at him in disbelief. âThen what is it about?â
âThe Marinex deal has completely fallen apart,â he says, frustration finally slipping into his tone. âPatrickâs losing his mind, the boardâs probably already heard about this, someone has been investigating you, and now that bastard San is probably reveling in the fact that heâs gotten the best piece of dirt on me to give the press if I donâtââ
âSo I'm the dirt.â you realize.
Yunhoâs expression shifts slightly. The room falls silent again.
He sighs, rubbing his face as he retracts his words. âThatâs not what I meant.â
âYes, it is,â you mutter. âYouâre just trying not to say it directly. Just admit it Yunho. I fucked it all up. Your business deal, your family imageââ
âFuck the image!â he barks as he steps towards you abruptly. âIf anything, I want to know exactly why you hid this from me.â His eyes widening as he grasps your wrist.
âClearly youâve debated telling me even before I asked about your past, meanwhile I told you my own fucked up story with complete truthâ he breathes heavily.
âWhen you told me you âdancedâ âjesus christâ I thought it meant at parties or events!â Yunho states in disbelief.
âWell thatâs not exactly a lie, Yunho.â you spit back, tears forming in your eyes.Â
âI did dance. I just did it in heavy ass stripper heels and not pointe shoes.â you snapped, standing straight as you walked closer to his face. Itâs dangerous how much heâs letting you run your mouth at him.Â
âWhy? Does that turn you off?â you challenged. âDo I make you disgusted? As if youâve Iâm used goods?â you plaster on a fake smirk as painful tears release from your eyes.
The vein on the side of Yunhoâs neck bulges as he clenches his jaw, hands coming to rest on his hips as warns you in a tone youâve never heard him use before.Â
âStop that. You can be a real piece of work when youâre angry, you know that?â he snaps, voice sharp enough to cut through the glass window of the city skyline. Slivers of gold and orange dance around the nightly blue as dawn begins to break, signaling the day has only just begun.
Yunhoâs chest rises as he stares at you, confliction flashing across his face before frustration wins again.
âYou think this is about me being disgusted?â Yunho breaks bitterly, dragging a hand through his hair. âYou really think thatâs the part I care about?â
âWell what else could it fucking be?â you fire back immediately.
âItâs the fact that you never trusted me enough to tell me the truth!â
The room falls silent with thick tension. You even have to look away for a moment, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand.Â
When you begin to understand how Yunho feels, a wave of indignation washes it back.
âDo you think it was easy for me?â You grit as you turn your head back. âThe times I felt like I had to be someone else just to be in the room with you?â you raised your voice, fresh hot tears streaming down your face.Â
The CEO blinks softly, guilt filling his chest.Â
You shake your head, walking away from the conversation and towards the bedroom to retrieve your things. Youâve had enough of Beverly Hills and stupid high society.
But Yunho still follows, hot on your trail.Â
âNo. I never wanted you to change. I wanted you. And if I ever made you feel that wayâŠâ he begins, clenching his fists as he owns up to his mistake.
âIâm sorry.â he apologized, wanting you to look at him. But you couldnât handle his apology, nor the painful fact that it came so easily for him. That unlike any other partners youâve previously had, Yunho was the first to chase you after hearing you were a stripper, providing the bare minimum and more.Â
With embarrassment, anger, and your dignity on the line, you rush to grab your items, looking for the worn out bag you arrived here with and ignoring the boxes of luxury clothes and shoes Yunho gifted you this weekend.
âListen to meâ he states, frantically calling for your name to set the record straight,Â
âIâm not angry because youâre a stripper. Iâm disappointed because you lied.â he emphasizes, using a tone of voice that makes you want to barf from how grown-up it is.Â
Perhaps it was also because secretly, deep down in your heart, you know that what Yunho is saying is far more productive than the childish show youâre putting on right now, hiding and running away with embarrassment of getting caught.Â
âYou looked me in the eye and told me you were a dancer.â he states, pointing a finger at you as he lays down the facts. âYou built a version of yourself just to keep me from seeing the real you.â
âWell, of fucking course!â you snap, voice cracking despite yourself. âBecause this is what always happens! News flash, Yunho, this is LA. People lie here all the time. They sell whatever version of themselves they need just to claw their way higher up the chain.â
Your gaze hardens as you step closer to tell him.
âAnd Iâve seen you do the exact same thing.â
Yunho stiffens, towering over you as he watches you suddenly shove off the suffocating robe to change into your panties and underwear laying on the ground beside him. Not caring if you have to change in front of him mid-argument.Â
If anything, the arguments just come hurdling back even stronger this time.Â
âWell what the fuck is that supposed to mean?â He presses, voice rising.
âOh come on, Yunho. You think the corporate men of America are any different than what I did? That dancing naked is any different than the bullshit you put on everyday while pretending youâre doing something noble and important? You screw people over for their money! Youâre a capitalist dickface that attacks smaller businesses!âÂ
âIf you even understood a fraction of the things Iâm responsible for â the companies that depend on my management of their shares, the people that work for meââ
â âAnd I would know because I was one of them.â
A look of hurt flashes across his face.Â
âYou meant more than that.â He responds quietly.
You bite down on your lip, scoffing.Â
âIf I meant more than that then why are you angry at yourself then? Why are you holding back on the blame you want to put on me for ruining your deal and for scandalizing your entrepreneur image?â Youâve reached a tipping point. A point where you find yourself spiraling with anger and resentment at both Yunho and yourself.Â
âJust admit it, Yunho. Iâm disgraceful. Iâm the one whoâs embarrassing. A liar for trying to survive in a world that was always meant for people like you.âÂ
His voice is strict, calling for your name to slow down and listen to his words but you donât.
Your bra strap snaps against your skin as you adjust it aggressively, looking around before snatching a random slip-on dress from the pile of clothing to wear as you collect your bag and leave the room in a hurry.
Shouts of your name echo again.
Yunho rushes behind, taking far fewer strides than yourself to keep up with the pace.Â
âI get that you think there's a difference between someone like me and you. That there are different titles we are associated with in society.â he says as you roll your eyes.
âBut thatâs not what I saw during the time we spent together. I always tried to treat you equally.â he points out.Â
âI told you things. Things Iâve never told anyone else. You made me feel like I could trust you. But then I find out youâve been keeping this part of you locked up like itâs something ugly. Like youâre something uglyââ
âBecause I am, Yunho! What is the point? That I took my clothes off for money before I ever let you touch me? That I didnât fit the fantasy?âÂ
He runs his hands through his hair, trying to reason with you through gritted teeth. âIâm telling you I donât fucking care about a fantasy! I care about you. Your safety, and the fact that you looked me in the eye and didnât trust me with the truth. That Iâm just one more guy you had to perform for.â
You exhale with a shaky breath. How could you tell him right here that that was the problem. Heâs turned into someone with far more value than the guys of your past. It was too much to imagine how heâd react to that piece of news in this situation as well.
Shaking your head as you walk away overwhelmed from the conversation, a hand suddenly reaches out and grabs you with a solid grip. Yunho pulls you to look at his face properly, practically seething as frustration wears his serious expression down.Â
âWhen someone older speaks to you, you listen, do you understand?â he mutters quietly, holding firm but not hurting you.Â
You look up stunned. Your throat tightens, tears threatening to spill as you immediately throw his hands off of you.
âYou donât get to act as betrayed as you are right now. You have no idea what people become the second they hear what I was.â
Yunhoâs expression hardens, but not in anger this time.
âAnd you decided Iâd become one of them before even giving me the chance not to.â
You can see the conflict in his face nowâthe exhaustion, the pressure, the disbelief at everything unraveling all at once. But instead of comforting you, the hesitation only confirms your fears.
Your chest tightens painfully. Sighing as the hot, molten anger melts to reveal the cold truth you always come back to after surviving in this world and by forgetting your fairytale books.
âYou paid for four days, Yunho.â you force a sore voice out.Â
âThat was all this was ever supposed to be.â
His eyes slightly widen in alarm when you throw the towel into the ring.Â
âDonât say it like that. Don't do what I thinkââ
âBut that's exactly it, Yunho. Iâm not gonna do anything.â you say, straightening the strap of your bag on your shoulder as you turn. You reach for the door handle despite his calls of your name.Â
âWeâre not done with this conversation!â he swears, eyes glistening as he holds back tears in panic. But you ignore it all.
âYou know the worst part?â you begin, voice breaking as you finally tell him through quiet sobs.Â
âI really did want to tell you. A hundred times, I really did. And Iâm sorry Yunho, but every time I looked at you⊠I panicked.âÂ
âWhy?â Yunho immediately asks as he walks further, tears falling as the stupid facades youâve both put up with now crumble. âFear of money? Of being disposed of?â He answers, guilt shooting through his heart at the flawed way heâd been living. The companies he's broken down. The people heâs cornered for their titles and shares.Â
Money meant nothing to him anymore. Not if you were threatening to leave.
But it wasnât any of those things.
âItâs because you started to make me think I wasnât disposable.â you responded back, staring at the man in front of you. Your expression softens.Â
âI donât know how to be someone who gets chosen, Yunho, because being chosen doesnât last forever. You could spend the rest of this month with me and still find that you grow tired of me, and things would fall apart just as easily as this contract was formed.â you predicted through bitter tears.
Then why don't you let me choose you forever? Yunho asks himself.Â
In reality, he shouldâve said it out loud to you, but he too was clouded with fear. Fear of moving too fast. Of being too sudden and scaring you with a hasty decision that didn't read the room or considered you.
Your body moves first, inching closer to the door.
He calls your name firmly, trying to stop you. For a second, you almost do. But looking back to see Yunho standing with his hands by his side â revealing momentary hesitation, as if contemplating what move he should make next â that tiny moment of hesitation makes your heart sink completely.Â
So you walk past him, rushing a goodbye and leaving the penthouse in silence as Yunho remains the only one standing.
Alone. Back to how it was before you entered his life.
LA was one of the stranger places to call home.Â
It wasnât always welcoming, but it wasnât completely foreign either. Years of survival had changed the bright-eyed, determined young woman you were when you first arrived, to slowly adapt to the fast-paced life that brought more disappointments than fairytale stories.Â
Perhaps thatâs why you felt the need to cut your story so short. For a city filled with people chasing dreams so desperately, it was important to know when things have gotten out of hand.Â
Back in your run down flat shared with your roommate Miko, you realize how long four days can feel when you've been away.
Her cheerful greeting dies down when she sees blotchy eyes and your front lip quivering as you barely make it through the front entrance, holding only your run down bag in hand, pockets empty of any type of money or compensation.
You left the gifts back at the penthouse. You couldnât bring yourself to take anything that would remind you of what happened.
âOh, honeyâŠâ your roommate hesitates, carefully coming to catch you as you collapse onto your knees when the door closes. The stream of tears follows quickly.
âI left him...â you mumbled softly in choked cries.
Your best friend reassures your heartbreaking sobs by patting your back in slow beats, shushing you despite your eyes continuing to water and seep into the old t-shirt she woke up in.Â
âItâs okay, honeyâ she softly mutters, not having to ask too many questions to know why you were in such a state. She takes a quick inhale and sighs, trying her best to convince you.Â
âEverything will be okay.â
But you couldnât find the courage to imagine it would be. How could it? When you feel as though youâve made a sacrifice for Yunho â to better his life and free him of your messy past â that puts your own affection and liking for him on the line.Â
âBut you don't get it, I left him, Mikoâ you hiccuped, eyes puffy as you pulled back to emphasize the word to her face. âI was the one that couldnât stay after seeing him react to my past. If only you saw the look on his face, fuck- h-how shocked he looked and how tired I felt of feeling like I was in the wrong to have stepped into his life andââ
âHey, shhhh. Itâs okay.â Miko tries her best to calm you down, carefully helping you up from the floor and guiding you toward the couch with peeling leather cushions. She wraps a blanket around you, the one you both stole from a laundromat months ago because neither of you could afford heating.
âYou wanna tell me what happened?â she asks with a pointed look.
You shake your head immediately, watching as she doesnât change her expression. Then you nod, breaking slowly once again.
âHe looked at me likeâŠâ Your throat tightens.
âLike he wanted me to stay.â
âThen why didnât you?â your roommate asks utterly bewildered, brows pulling together slightly.  âI thought everything was going amazing?â
âHis lawyer told him about me being a stripper. He beat me to it. And once the conversation started, I realized how much of his life could change because of the picture I painted for him. Of someone who definitely didnât belong in his world,â you recalled painfully.Â
Miko pulls back.Â
âBut did you stop to think how much your life changed after meeting him? The positive things that came out from the both of you being in this relationship?âÂ
"There was no relationship. It was just business." you say sounding like you were trying to convince yourself more.
You raise your head to look at her crossed arms. Your roommate's image defensive as she sighs with a shake to her head.
âListen carefully babe. What Iâm trying to say is that careers are able to be rebuilt. Money ultimately comes and goes. But that connection? The one you told me over the phone that you shared with him? The way you said he looks at you? Now that doesnât just come from nowhere.âÂ
She helps you recognize that regardless of what happened towards the end, the past four days with Yunho had to have meant more than just business to the both of you. Especially with the way Kumiko thinks Yunho was trying to hold on to you based on your retelling.
âHe still hesitated.â You dismissed her. âIt was only for a second, but I-I knew what that look could meanââÂ
Your roommate sighs in response, rubbing her temples at your somewhat hasty and stupid actions.
Your cries of frustration come out miserable. âOkay whatever! I know how it sounds like because normal people hesitate all the time, right? But with him, MikoâŠâ You wipe harshly at your face, reminding yourself that Yunho hardly ever hesitates.
"He probably felt the exact way I predicted he would feel towards me. Regret. I just couldnât stand it staying there and waiting for his say on anything else. If I was actually 100% worth choosing or not.â
Mikoâs judgement softens as she raises her brows.
âWell damn.â
A breath escapes you, leaning back against the seat as you shut your eyes in fatigue.Â
Miko eventually reaches over to tuck your hair behind your ear, the same way she used to after exhausting late-night shifts when the two of you would stumble home with aching feet. Her voice is smooth. âFor someone terrifying enough to make grown men cry, he sure made you cry a lot too.â
âIt feels exhausting...â you responded, biting the inside of your mouth.
âButâŠâ She emphasizes, glancing toward the apartment window that reveals early morning sunlight to peeking through.
âIsnât that what love is?â she tells you, making you open your eyes to look at her properly.
âYou loved him. I can tell because it's written all over your face and explained through the way you acted.â
The ache in your chest sharpens instantly.
Loved. Past tense.
You donât want to correct her. You find it would be easier to just shut out the part of yourself that repeats perhaps you still do love Yunho.
The rest of the morning is taken to lay around at home, swallowing down all your emotions and thoughts of regret by rummaging through the kitchen cabinets, hoping to find some sort of leftover alcohol to help. Kumiko warns you about daytime drinking, but she decides to leave you in peace as she heads off to her day job.
âListen, I know youâre wallowing in your pain right now, and I completely support it, but I left Hime with the skinny convenience store kid for him to watch when I was gone.â she confesses, putting in her left earring as she shows up in her waitress outfit.Â
You stop rummaging through the pantry and look up in her direction at the mention of the scrawny black cat.Â
âWill you do me one favour and pick her up? The kid's probably done with his night shift about now.â she comments hesitantly, looking at her watch.
Through the pile of food items, you barely manage to shove a weak thumbs up in her direction, saying nothing more as you canât find the energy to do so.
All you can do is sigh, standing up properly to grab a t-shirt from your room to change into. Kumiko rushes over and hugs you from behind as you walk, trying to cheer you up in her usual, clingy fashion.
âThank you, I literally love you and promise to bring leftovers for you on the way back.â she says, knowing that it was a usual routine of yours that always made you feel a bit better. Yet still, her expression falters when she sees you're unable to give a full smile.
âGive it time, honeyâ she pats your back, wishing you rest.
"Give him some time too."
She hands over the keys and wipes a few stray tears from your puffy eyes when you mumble back unconvinced.
âI highly doubt it.â
The fluorescent lights flicker overhead as you wander through half-empty aisles in the dingy convenience store on Hollywood Boulevard, exhaustion still sitting heavy in your chest from the breakup hours earlier.Â
Itâs unusual to find yourself here so early. Usually youâre visiting during midnight hours, when youâve finished your night shifts.
Just outside, the city of LA has barely awakened. Police sirens echo somewhere in the distance while the sky hangs in that pretty orange-blue color with a smell of burnt coffee and cheap cigarettes lingering in the air.
Itâs funny, you think as you grab the cheapest can of beer out of the back fridges. Out of all the places you couldâve gone to after leaving Yunho, you ended up hereâ back where you first met him.
Your fingers curl around the metal can, the lukewarm aluminum far from cold enough for your liking as it brushes against your skin. Exhaustion drags through your limbs while you sluggishly make your way to the checkout counter, placing the single drink onto the table with a quiet clink.
âItâs not even noon, y'know," Timothy comments dryly, the teen boy yawning as he still helps you checkout. After pressing a few buttons on the cashier, he peers outside the window, looking out for the next employee to swap with him.
âSurprised you didnât grab the half-priced milk this morning,â he comments, absentmindedly brushing through the dark fur of Hime as she sits atop the glass checkout counter, peacefully enjoying her final few minutes with him before his shift ends.
"Your cat practically hangs near the milk section every time she's here."
You shut your eyes, cursing quietly under your breath as a frustrated groan leaves you. With your chest still heavy from everything that happened this weekend, you realize you havenât been paying attention to anything around you at all. Not even to the fact that you have to feed your cat, and not even when the bell hanging on the doors chimes, signaling another person has come in.Â
âOne second,â you mumble with your back to the part-timer, walking towards the half-priced refrigerated goods section to grab the carton you always purchased.
The fridge doors hum softly as you pull one open, leaning down as lukewarm air brushes against your flushed face instead of the cool chill you were waiting for.
âSeriously, you guys need to fix the thermostat in here or somethââ
The words die instantly in your throat the moment you straighten back up.
Because the moment you lift your gaze, a head of messy jet-black hair and a Burberry coat come into view near the register.
Your breath catches instantly.
Yunhoâs hair is disheveled, strands falling messily over his forehead like heâd been dragging frustrated hands through it all morning. Dark circles bruising the skin beneath his eyes as exhaustion is written plainly across his face while his coat hangs off him carelessly.
The state of his eyes catch your attention the most. Red-rimmed and restless. Desperate in a way that makes your stomach turn.
You doubt you look much better yourself.
For a long moment, neither of you speak. The buzzing sounds of the fridge and freezer sections feel so deafening. But if anything, this hurts more than yelling ever could. To stand here in complete silence with someone who once knew almost nothing about you and now knows too much.
When your name leaves his mouth, you swallow hard, instinctively taking a step back until the refrigerator door presses cold against your spine.
âWhat are you doing here?â you ask in disbelief, though the question sounds far more accusatory than angry.
Yunho exhales heavily through his nose. âI caught your roommate before she left your apartment.â he responded, eyes never leaving yours for even a second.Â
âShe said I'd be able to find you here.â
You shut your eyes briefly, silently cursing your friend for being too honest for her own good.
Before he can answer, you hurry toward the checkout counter, desperately needing something else to focus on besides the look in his eyes. Your fingers fumble for a crumpled ten dollar bill before abruptly dropping the carton of milk onto the counter hard enough to make poor Hime jump at the vibration beneath her paws.
âKeep the change,â you mutter quickly, shoving the bill into Timothyâs hand before reaching over to gather Hime against your chest and collecting your purchases.
The feline lets out a small confused meow, Yunho stepping closer.
âPlease, let me say somethingâ he calls your name softly, shortening the distance and immediately making you set the drinks back down with a sharp clink.Â
The cat watches in silence as sheâs put down back onto the counter as well.Â
âWhat is there even more to say, Yunho?â you retort back. âIâve said everything I needed to and left your life so you could fix this mess I made and forget this even happened.â you break, reaching a tipping point when you remember the sacrifice you made to move on.
But for him to come back so quickly, to go out of his way to find you back here in this area of town makes it so much harder.Â
âBut I havenât told you everything I wanted to say,â he argues firmly, brows furrowing as he walks closer.Â
âI fired Patrick and canceled the Marinex deal,â he reveals.
When you ask him in utter disbelief why he did such a thing, his response only comes back even stronger with disposition.
âBecause last night I held you in my arms while you told me youâd stay, and then this morning you disappeared like I imagined the entire thing up,â he recalls, his voice breaking at the edges now, disbelief bleeding into more raw, unguarded emotions.
âI realized I needed to get rid of the people that were in my way. The things that were preventing me from what I really wanted," he explained.
"Which is you.â
Your throat physically burns. âWell,â You bite back, clenching your fists. âDonât you know people say things they donât mean when theyâre drunk and fucked until unconsciousness?â
The young cashier standing only a few feet away, blinks between the two of you awkwardly. Yunho doesnât even spare him a glance, nor does he react to your attempt at deflection. Your sharpness and effort to maintain a distance is just absorbed quietly with unflinching patience.
âYou're not allowed to erase us like that,â Yunho demands, steady despite everything he wants to say. âBecause I remember exactly how you looked at me when you said it.â
Very slowly, Timothy sinks back behind the counter, giving you some space.
Your jaw tightens instantly, sighing loudly.
âYunho, you canât justââ
âNo.â he repeats, firmer this time. âIâm not doing that again. Iâm not leaving just because youâre scared. I spent the last few hours thinking about everything you said to me. Reanalyzing the past four days we spent together in this fucked up proposal I offered you where I exchanged your comfort and presence for money. And I realized what you said about LA was true. People sell pieces of themselves every single day just to survive. They lie. They cheat. They pretend to be things theyâre not. I probably do it best. But you? All you did was survive without becoming cruel. You did what you had to do when nobody else was there to save you. And even after everything, I can't believe you can't even realize that youâre still kind. Still smart. Still brave in a way I donât think you even understand.â
He pinches the bridge of his nose, letting out a strained breath that sounds like pure awe laced with disbelief. "You do realize you threw yourself in front of an armed gunman for two other people, right?â he asks incredulously as he refers back to the first night you met.
Your mouth goes dry. Stunned silence makes you unable to retort back with any response this time.Â
âSo Iâm telling you this for the last time because you deserve to know.â he says firmly.
âI donât care that you used to strip. I donât care who touched you before me or what job you have or what anybody else thinks they can call you. I donât care who you had to become to survive before me. I care about who you are when nobody asks anything from you. The person you are now. I care that somewhere along the way, it somehow got into your pretty little head that surviving something difficult could make you any harder to love.â
Tears finally spill down your face. No one has ever looked at the ugliest parts of your life and treated them like wounds instead of evidence.
Yunho notices your expression crumble and immediately wraps his arms around you.
You never knew how meeting this man wouldâve changed you. In front of him, you wanted to be the absolute best version of yourself. To please him in return for the gentle love he offered to you so easily and humbly. But now you understand it was because there was no extent to his affection for you. For someone you couldnât imagine a future together if he found your secret past, heâs proved wrong by coming back for you. To tell you properly face to face that he still wanted you.Â
As he daringly encases your body within his arms, Yunho embraces you in a firm yet gentle manner.
âHow could I not be scared when I didnât know how to believe you?â you admitted, muffled against his strong chest as hand cradles the back of your head. His heart breaks at how easily you turn your pain inward and how quickly you become your own sharpest critic.
âWill you believe me if I tell you that I love you?â
It leaves him so simply this time. No hesitation present. Itâs not needed when itâs his pure, unfiltered truth.
You pull back shakily, looking up at him.
âY-You canât just love someone after four days!â you shake your head, though your heart races from reciprocation.
Yunho scoffs faintly, looking down at you as you stumble over your words.
âWe had a contract, a deal thatââÂ
âI love you not despite your past and not because I pity you, but because I just do.â
For many years, heâd drowned life under business calls, endless contracts, and nights spent in boardrooms instead of surrounded by warmth. The idea of love was so distant in the CEOâs mind. But with you, it was as though a whole new life was restarted.Â
His eyes glisten as rays of morning sunshine poke through the dirty glass windows.
A soft exhale escapes you through your tears, the words finally cutting through all your resistance that heâs chosen you. That heâs already chosen you long before you were brave enough to accept it.
Yunho brings his lips down to share a slow, grounding kiss. Not like heâs giving you the chance to pull away, because the second your hands grab the front of his jacket closer, you melt completely.
The mild can of beer and weird-tasting milk slips forgotten on the checkout table behind you as hands rest steady around your waist, pulling you against him like heâs terrified to lose you again. Hime meows softly, licking her fur as if entirely unimpressed by the emotional collapse happening nearby.
Outside, sirens still scream somewhere far down the street.
Inside the tiny convenience store, under flickering fluorescent lights, a horrified expression clouds Timothyâs face behind the aisle of potato chip bags.
It doesnât matter. Because when the two of you finally pull back, tears still caught in your lashes, you say something quieter and far more important than any billion-dollar deal signed by a man like him.
Yunho always had money. He just never had someone who could give him something even more valuable.Â
âI love you too.â
đđđđđđđđ:
âHave you got everything?â
You nod, nervously sucking in a deep breath as you gripped the straps of your tote bag. The newly purchased textbooks felt heavy in your grasp, their covers glistening with newness. But that didnât intimidate you as much as you thought it would.Â
It served as a firm reminder of why you were here and why you wanted to do this.Â
âNotebooks, pens, pencils?â Yunho lists, brows furrowing as the billionaire himself gets nervous for your first day of university. âDid my chef make you your lunch like you wanted her to?â
You nod, feeling so loved and well prepared thanks to your fianceâs care. âMhm.â
He nods, letting out a deep sigh as he pulls you in and presses a gentle kiss on your forehead, reminding himself that you were.Â
âDonât be too nervous making friends, everyone is going to love you. If anyone says anything to hurt you, you have my legal teams number plus a list of all the top lawyers within the county-â
âYunho,â you gently called out.Â
The corners of your mouth lift as you reassured him by interlacing his fingers within yours.Â
âIâll be fine.â you smiled, nervous but still nonetheless excited to go back to university and finish your studies like you always wanted to. The new support system around you brought the courage to pursue a higher degree than just a highschool diploma.Â
Yunho watches his fiance standing in front of him, an excited smile on her cheeks as bright eyes look up at him. He has half the heart to just ditch the office and spend the whole day with you on campus, not wanting to spend a single second apart. But seeing as other students independently walk pass on their way to class, he simply caresses your face.
âIâll be waiting for you when you finish, alright?â he promises softly. âI want to hear everything about your first day.â
You nod and grin.
âHave a good day at the office.â
âHave a good day at school.âÂ
And with one last kiss, full of warmth that lingers long after it ends, you finally slip from his arms and take your first steps onto the fresh green campus grounds. It may be nerve-wracking, but itâs not frightening.
Because even as you move forward on your own, you know someone who loves you is still there behind you.
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â pairing: exstripper!reader x billionaireceo!yunho
â chapter warnings: profanity, drinking, age gap (yunho is 37, reader is 26), snobby ppl r rude to reader, SMUT â groping, oral m receiving, choking, teabagging, swallowing, face stuffing, cum play, wearing lingerie, petnames, overstĂm, yunho is big pervert, manhandIing, size differences, loserforhisgf!yunho, overstimulation (kinda both), lots of praise kink
â synopsis: LIVING IN BEVERLY HILLS comes with its perks. But for two different people such as yourself and multibillionaire business tycoon, Jeong Yunho, both of you canât seem to find what youâre looking for in the so called 'land of dreams'. So the proposal is simple really⊠let him spoil you with money, jewelry and clothes while in return, you stay by his side. . .
â playlist: material girl by maddona, oh, pretty woman by roy orbison, versace on the floor by bruno mars, dirty cash (money talks) by the adventures of stevie v,
â a/n: thanks for all the interest! please don't forget to reblog:)
â word count: 10k
m.list | pt 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3
AFTER A MUCH NEEDED COLD SHOWER, followed by drying your hair and changing your clothes, you situate yourself comfortably onto Yunhoâs king sized bed, swimming in the sheets and leaning against the soft pillows with a happy, satisfied hum.Â
This grand, empty penthouse was now yours, and when the realization hits, it can only make you shuffle your bare legs and smile with content.Â
You could definitely get used to this.Â
You turn to see Yunhoâs credit card was still placed on the bedside table nearby, hesitating for a moment before reaching over to grab it. The shiny lettering stares back at you as your thumb brushes over it, contemplating what to buy first for your dinner date tonight.Â
There was so much you wanted to do. You needed a dress, shoes, new makeup and definitely a few new pairs of underwear if you were going to stay for the couple following days.
With a faint idea of who to ask for help inside your head, you sit up to dial a number into the hotel phone, biting your nail as you wait for the other line to answer.Â
Moments pass, and for a split second you think she wonât answer until a groggy but familiar voice finally picks up.
âHello?â
You let out a breath of relief. âMiko!â You cheerfully called out, twisting the curled telephone wire and leaning against the headboard.Â
âYou wonât even guess what has happened to me.â
A faint yawn is heard over the line, the sound of objects clattering and curses spilling out of your half-awake roommate as she balances the phone against her ear.Â
Miko doesnât think much of it, shuffling to lay back down under a hamburger wrapper she apparently fell asleep with, before mumbling back into the phone.Â
âJust tell me what it isâ
âLook, I met this insane guy whoââ
âLet me guess, he tried to cop a feel so you punched him back and now youâre calling me while locked up in the police station so I can bail you outâ she responded in a bored manner, a headache drilling into her skull from the open curtains directing sunlight in your living room flat. Â
You shook your head, the excitement audible in your tone.Â
âWay better than thatâ
Miko sits up, sighing. âWhere are you anyways? You said youâd come back last night with Himeâs milkâ she mumbled, talking about her chubby black cat.Â
You shake your head at your roommate, grinning.
âI am sitting in the 50th story penthouse of the Beverly Hills Hotel, because Iâve just been promised eight thousand dollars to spend the next few days with some billionaire!âÂ
The half-sober girl hits her head against the coffee table from surprise while reaching for a bottle of water.Â
âNo fucking way!â she mutters with disbelief, rubbing the bump on her forehead.Â
âHow did you even meet this guy?â
âYâknow that dingy gas station towards the end of the Boulevard?â you explained enthusiastically. âI helped him from getting robbed thereâ Â
Kumiko lifts one of her brows. âRobbed?â
You realize how it sounds, but proceed to insist it was a long story.Â
âListen, I donât have much time cause heâs taking me to dinner tonight. Heâs left me his credit card and all, but I have no idea where to shopâ you state, looking at the piece of plastic in your left hand.Â
âSaid he wanted something elegant, or some crapâ you muttered, rolling your eyes.Â
âDo you have any idea where to go?â
You hear a scoff come from the other end of the line, your roommate being appalled by your little knowledge of the city. You can already picture her smirking face when she responds back.
âRodeo Drive, baby.â
After your call with Kumikoâwho, in her usual blunt charm, shared a few sly tips on how to reel the billionaire in further; current stripper to former stripperâyou step out of the Beverly Hills Hotel with Yunhoâs black card in one hand and the three hundred dollars you earned last night in the other.Â
For once in your life, you can walk down the streets of L.A. without worrying about what you can or canât afford, and that alone fills you with a freeing sense of happiness.Â
The morning sun glints off the sleek glass windows of luxury boutiques that seem to call your name one by one. Itâs almost contagious, the way your grin refuses to fade as you eye each well-dressed mannequin, imagining which purse or which shoes Yunho might like best.
Finally, you decide to step into a high-end womenâs boutique at the next corner, the glass doors sliding open with ease. Your eyes immediately landed on a simple black dress displayed on a mannequin at the front of the store, running your fingers over the fabric and taking in the understated yet elegantly conservative dress. Something about it feels right, and your heart stirs with anticipation. A spark of certainty whispers that this might be exactly what Yunho has in mind.
When you glance around, you lock eyes with a pretty brunette store clerk somehow already standing nearby. Sheâs tall, perfectly put together, and wearing a dark red lipstick on her lips that purse when you speak to her first.
âHi,â you greet, flashing a smile and gesturing toward the mannequin. âHow much is this?â
Her gaze drops, taking in your outfit.
The short hem of your skirt, the scuffed high heel boots, your messy hair that you didnât bother to put together after wriggling under Yunhoâs grasp that morning on his king sized bed.
The judgment towards you is instant, but she disguises it with a thin, professional smile.
âThat one?â she asks, feigning surprise.Â
âItâs from our private collection. Most of our clients order those for galas, not⊠casual outings.â
You blink, unsure if you heard her right.Â
âOh, I wasnât planning on wearing it to a gala, Iâm actually having dinner tonight.â
She stares you down.
âRightâŠâ her tone falsely sweet. âIt is a rather sophisticated piece. It might not suit your usual look.â Her eyes flick once more down your legs, then back up, deliberate and slow.Â
By now youâve caught on to the judgement, and you can feel the air suddenly feel colder. A few customers nearby glance over, sensing the tension.Â
âMy usual look?â you say as your brows furrow, putting a hand on your hip in confidence as your heels hit the floor loudly. âHow would you know my usual look? Youâve just met me.â
She giggles, a blonde colleague who appears to be an exact evil copy of the brunette, coming to circle around you.Â
âTrust me, honey.â she sneers. âWe know your type.â
You take a step back, pretending like youâre not hurt by their rejection, although the humiliation burns your cheeks too hot to dismiss it.Â
âPlease leave.â the blonde shoots, looking at you as if youâd committed a crime by simply browsing in their store.Â
You glance at the two women, finding yourself at a loss for words. Without waiting any longer, you turn and walk out of the boutique with clenched fists.Â
And of course they don't stop you. In fact, you catch their reflections through the glass as the door closes, whispering something to each other that makes them chuckle out loud.Â
The feelings of humiliation and embarrassment settle inside you. You become self-conscious of your looks, bringing your jacket to cover your body as you quickly try to escape back to the hotel, thinking it would be better if the earth just swallowed you whole right now.
A group of upper-class businessmen stroll past, their tailored suits sharp and their gazes lingering a moment too long. A few whistles trail behind, low and mocking, and the urge to disappear tightens even more in your chest.Â
The ladies who follow behind have luxury handbags gleaming beneath the morning sun, one by one, passing you looks of quiet disdain. Their eyes sweep over you as if youâre clutter on their sidewalk, and almost each face of every passerby you cross seems to carry the same unspoken verdict:
You donât belong here.
A cold breeze pushes against your back as you climb the steps to the hotel entrance. Youâd held in your tears the entire walk from the boutique, but now they spill freely, hot and fresh against your cheeks. The sharp clicks of your high heels echo across the marble floor.Â
Too loud, too sharp and too out of place as well.Â
You try to steady your breathing, blinking fast to keep your vision clear, but each step feels heavier than the last.Â
From behind, a man's voice suddenly calls out to you.Â
âHello, Miss. Is there anything I may helpââ
âNo, you may not!â you snap back, outstretching your arms in warning to leave you alone, while your voice cracks and betrays your efforts in hiding your disappointment.Â
You swipe the back of your hand across your eyes, smearing fresh, hot tears just to walk past the man wearing a pristine grey suit.
The elevator is the first thing you find, and you hurry toward it, pressing the up button again and again as if impatience could make it arrive faster. The floor numbers above creep along, changing at an agonizing pace, with a dozen more stops left to go.Â
A shaky sigh escapes as you shut your eyes and rest your forehead against the cool metal doors, muttering quiet, self-deprecating remarks under your breath.Â
You still when you sense someone approach â a faint trace of rose, an older presence settling beside you. The grey-haired man from the lobby stands a few steps away, polite enough to give you space, yet near enough to remind you youâre not alone.Â
Your jaw tightens as you jab the button once more, hoping movement will come before the silence grows any heavier.
You brace yourself for a harsh grip on your shoulder, already imagining the call for hotel security to drag you out. Instead, a soft blur of pale yellow fabric swings into view. A handkerchief is being offered to you.
Your glossy eyes lift to the grey-haired man, who only smiles with quiet understanding. You mumble a barely audible thank-you and take the handkerchief, dabbing at your tears before blowing your nose, loudly.
The manâs expression falters, color draining from his face at the unmistakable sound. He stiffens for a moment, then clears his throat and regains his composure, voice calm as he begins to speak.
âWould you like to tell me what is wrong? I can provide assistance for you in my office if youâd likeâ he nods, the wrinkles near his eyes creasing. You shake your head, dismissing him albeit this time a bit more calmly.Â
âI just need to get back to my roomâ you whimpered, shaking your head as you scrunched up the fabric in your hand.Â
âDo you have your cardkey?â he asks.Â
You shut your eyes in realization, cursing out loud again when you remember you forgot to bring it with you when you left.Â
âI assume youâre a guest here,â. snapping his fingers to summon one of his assistants. A woman with a tight, low bun appears almost instantly, her uniform crisp and perfectly pressed. She offers you a smile thatâs all polish and professionalism. You glance between the two and let out a quiet sigh, frustration tightening your chest.Â
You fully expected they were going to have some sort of problem with you like before.
âListen, Iâm staying with a friend and I left my card key but Iâm sure one of your little lobby people can believe me, when I say that I'm just trying to get to my room!â you say in desperation, overwhelmed with all their attention focused towards you.Â
The man nods again, sensing your distress.Â
âWould you like to discuss this in my office?â he offers once again.Â
You deflate, a sigh escaping your lips as you wipe the last of your tears and glance first at him, then at his assistant. With a reluctant shrug, you let him take the lead, looking forward to expecting not much help from them as well.Â
âGet the car ready in five,â Yunho says while sitting in the backseat of his limo, eyes flicking to his watch. Evening had already settled in.Â
The clock read 7:45, which was a bit later than heâd hoped.Â
âIâll be back to get someone.â
His driver nods, steering toward the hotelâs front entrance. The sunâs long gone, and the outdoor hotel lights blink to life one by one, casting a soft glow across the marble steps. Yunho gets out the back door, briefcase in one hand, and cell phone in the other.Â
Making his way through the revolving doors, heâs about to dial the number to his room when a polite voice pulls his attention away.
âGood evening, Mr. Jeong,â a short, grey-haired man responds, hands respectfully folded in front of him.Â
âYour younger sister has asked me to inform you she is waiting in the piano loungeâ he quips, watching as Yunho halts all movements.Â
âMy, what?â the CEO repeats.
The stubby man looks around to see if anyone is watching, raising himself on his tippy toes to whisper unnecessarily secretively into the tall manâs ear.Â
âThe young lady staying with you in the penthouse suite!â
Yunho watches the man retreat back to his feet, readjusting his tie before realizing he was talking about you.Â
Yunho chuckles softly. âRight.. Thank you, Mr?â he draws out, waiting for the man's name.Â
âMr. Martinezâ he nods, eyes turning into crescent moons. He whips out a card from his left breast pocket.Â
âMy business card is-â
Yunho immediately heads toward the piano lounge in search of you, leaving the poor man behind, unaware.
Guests linger nearby, smoking and sipping glasses of whiskey and wine, the soft strains of a jazz band drifting through the dimly lit room. The warm glow casts a relaxed, sophisticated mood, but Yunhoâs focus cuts through it all.
As he scans the crowd without success, his brow furrows. He canât risk being late to such an important dinner.
âYouâre late.â
Yunho whips his head back, having to take a double take to realize the woman standing in front of him is none other than you.Â
You stand confidently, arms crossed as you wear a beautiful black dress that looks as if the silk was sewn just for you. The bodice was practically designed for you, adorning elegant, sparkly black jewels sewn into clean lines. The soft fabric hugs you in all the right places, the neckline just enough to draw the eye, and your hair, loosely done, frames your face like youâd stepped straight out of his dreams.
Yunho blinks. Once, then twice.
âYou..â his voice comes out lower than usual, being caught off guard.
You raise a brow, unfazed by his lack of response.Â
âMe what?â
Yunhoâs lips part, as if to say something clever, but no words come. His gaze lingers, but not in the usual way men look. Not with hunger or entitlement, but with admiration. The poise, the difference between the girl he met in that convenience store on Hollywood Boulevard and the elegant woman standing in front of him now.
Finally, he exhales a small astonished laugh. âYou look incredible.â
âYou sound surprised.â lips curving into a small, amused smile.Â
âI am,â he admits, eyes never having left you since he first saw you.Â
âYouâre beautiful. The dress is perfect.â
You tilt your head a bit, trying not to let the flattering compliments get to you.Â
âSo you did notice the dress.â you smirk, your curves held delicately in place.
âI noticed everything,â he mutters quietly.
You smile, feeling a wave of internal relief wash over you from knowing that Mr. Martinezâs efforts, along with the help of his hotel assistants, called the luxury department store employees to get you perfectly ready for Yunho tonight.
âShall we?â the tall man grins, extending his arm for you to hold. After trying to hide your smile but failing, you take his arm in your own and softly walk out of the piano lounge, the shiny polished marble floors reflecting every sparkle on the dress.Â
You still get that nervous feeling from stares and whispers coming from other guests, yet only this time, theyâre left wondering just who the elegant lady Jeong Yunho was carrying by his side was.Â
âYouâre stunning.â Yunho tells you from under his breath. You glance to the side and lock eyes with Mr. Martinez who stands from across the hotel lobby, smiling at you with a look of pride and genuine excitement.Â
When he sends a small bow, you grin and politely share it back, gratitude blossoming in your heart.
Dinner with the Choiâs starts smoother than you expected. Yunho invited you to a sophisticated three Michelin star restaurant that had a four month wait list in Beverly Hills. Walking through that front entrance while passing the lineup of guests waiting outside was intimidating, feeling as Yunho had his hand on your lower back to help guide you.Â
Just as he commanded everything else, he did the same with you, only gentler. Â
He politely introduced you to Chairwoman Choi, the relic he had warned you about during the limo ride there, and then to her grandson San, who was a high profile executive director at Marinex.Â
He was attending as well to discuss further details about business with Yunho. But when you catch the glare he shot at Yunho the minute he met him, you could tell with quiet worry that tonight wasnât going to be an easy dinner.
The evening unfolds with soft laughter, clinking glasses, and the kind of polite conversation that fills the spaces between appetizers and main courses. Youâd spent most of the night sitting beside Chairwoman Choi herself â a woman as sharp as she was composed, as her presence commanded the entire table without ever having to raise her voice.
âI like your dress by the way, dear,â she says at one point. Despite not sparing you a glance, her tone seems genuine.Â
The kind thatâs laced with the authority of someone who was used to being listened to.Â
You smiled at the old lady and bowed, caught a little off guard but nonetheless thankful.Â
âThank you, maâam.âÂ
You make a mental note to thank Mr. Martinez for the dress that youâve been receiving compliments all night about.Â
She hums back, swirling the red wine in her wine glass with a small sigh, growing tired as she watches her grandson spar stubbornly with Yunho across the table.Â
Polite talk was over. Real business had begun.Â
âYouâre nothing but a conniving, manipulating fraud, Jeong Yunhoâ San snaps, the grandson and heir to the shipping empire looking a bit red after having downed that last glass of whiskey in outrage.Â
He, just like his grandmother, are both strongly against Yunho buying their company just to break it up into pieces and sell off to his investors. The whole night had been Yunho steadily convincing and negotiating with the businessman, though you recognize a tipping point had come.Â
You glance over to the accused man sitting beside you, remaining unnervingly calm.Â
Almost untouchable.Â
Yunhoâs gaze doesnât waver, his posture relaxed.Â
âYou can leave your filthy hands off my familyâs legacy and buy some other bastardâs shipping company to add to your collectionâ he hisses, staring the multi-billionaire down with great determination.Â
You look over to see Chairwoman Choiâs thin lips stretch with pride at her grandsonâs loyalty to the family business, eyeing him carefully and listening for Yunhoâs reaction.
As youâre watching, you canât help but think itâs incredible. One would think all the chairwoman seemed to be doing at the dinner table was sipping her wine while sitting in silence, but in reality, she was the puppeteer.Â
Every glance behind the rim of her glass, and every subtle gesture she made guided her grandson, shaping his counterattacks with precision.
âAt the price Iâm offering for this stock, you and your grandmother will profit immensely,â Yunho replies evenly, laying out the facts so the young heir could understand the profitable benefits of this business agreement.Â
âAnd believe me, Choi. I donât plan on backing down with my offers anytime soon. Youâll have to accept what I tell you, especially now that your destroyer contracts are buried with the appropriations committee.â
The Chairwoman rolls her eyes, having enough of the banter as she takes the last measured sip of her wine. She then locks eyes with the nearby waiter who freezes in place, waiting for her subtle signal to come.Â
Even in silence, she commands attention, her presence cutting through the tension like a blade.
Incredible you mumbled with awe, eyes widening when you realize youâve said it out loud to her.Â
The old woman chuckles softly but loud enough so that Yunho and her grandson look over.Â
Sanâs lips pursed in a thin line at the sight of his grandma making small talk with his opponent's partner, turning back to hurl more threats and unwavering promises of how he was going to fight back Yunhoâs efforts to buy their company.Â
Yunho doesnât listen, only to stare you down as he tries to read your thoughts in the middle of dinner. Surprisingly, you do the same back at him.
âItâs refreshing to see a woman who doesnât hide behind too much,â the chairwoman comments after noticing your strong gazes, her eyes flicking towards you.Â
âEspecially ones who donât hide behind their man. Thereâs a certain honesty in simplicity.âÂ
You sense sheâs reading beneath the surface of your relationship, recognizing that while youâre here because Yunho asked you to be, thereâs a genuine appreciation for the care and thoughtfulness youâve brought to the evening. You didnât hesitate to ask questions throughout the mealâwondering which fork to use, why the fish still seemed alive, or whether eating it while it twitched was inhumane.
The chairwoman found it quietly amusing that, despite contending with her grandson in a tense exchange, Yunho still took the time to answer every question with patience and respect, treating your curiosity with a sincerity that felt almost rare.
âItâs almost surprising how a sweet thing like you ended up here tonight. By none other than Mr. Jeong, tooâ she said, watching as San suddenly slammed his fists on the dinner table.Â
The sound makes you jump in your seat, a small yelp escaping your lips as you clutched your heart. The woman beside you doesnât even flinch at her grandson's outburst, having grown accustomed to it at this point.
âMy grandmother believes that the one who creates a company should also control its destiny,â Choi San declares, nostrils flaring with anger.Â
âPeople like my grandparents built the shipping industry in this country from the ground up, never once imagining theyâd have to hand it over to scum such as yourself.â
Across the table, Yunho spares a moment to briefly glance at you, the faint trace of a smile tugging at his lips â it was a silent check-in, gauging how youâre handling your first experience of high-stakes business negotiation.
When you return a small nod back, swallowing your nerves to let him know youâre alright, Yunho focuses back to the discussion between him and San, uncrossing his legs to lean back into his armchair comfortably and smirk at the young business man opposite to him.
âLet me ask you a question, Mr. Jeong.â San mutters bitterly.Â
âIf you were to get a hold of my grandmotherâs company, which I doubt you ever will, what would you plan on doing with it?â He asked, resting his hands on the table as he leaned in menacingly, waiting for a plausible excuse.Â
Yunho stares him down. âDo as I have done best. Break it up and sell it off as piecesâ he states emotionlessly.
His response sets off another one of Sanâs arguments to fire back, the loud noise coming from the men suddenly draining into background noise when the old lady turns to speak to you again.
âYou remind me of myself,â she confessed.
You raised a brow in skepticality. âMe?â
She nodded, a grin ghosting along the edges of her wrinkly cheeks as she spoke.
âI was once as young, pretty, and innocent as youâ she reminisces, her eyes grazing over the bustling city view from the windows of the private dining room Yunho had booked.
âAnd I was naive.â she sighed, the shiny pearls resting against her blouse rising up and then down slowly. âFar too fearless to be running my own company. â She shook her head.
You listened carefully, feeling as if you were back home again and you were hearing your grandmother talk about her own stories from the past.Â
âYou seem like the type of lady that had everything planned perfectly at my ageâ you tell her truthfully.
She looks at you, admiring your youth before Sanâs voice echoed in the room. Both women turn their heads to momentarily witness the draining banter still happening back and forth.
âLeave my goddamn company alone!â
âI canât do that. I own ten million sharesâ
âIâll buy your stock back then!â
âYou donât have the money,â
âWell Iâm rich enough!â San shoots back.
The chairwoman shakes her head, focusing back on your conversation. She takes your hand in her own. Theyâre worn, fragile, and yet surprisingly steady and adorned with many shiny rings.Â
âContrary to how people act or appear on the outside, one never really knows who they truly are unless you make an effort to understand themâ she tells you. You look back at her with confusion.
âI certainly donât appreciate your dinner date turning fifty years of me and my husbandâs legacy into one of his dissections,â she begins, eyes shutting in distaste at the thought of how Yunho would sell off her company into pieces. She reopens them to continue.Â
âBut Iâve known Yunho since he was a little boy.â she admits, eyes narrowing in on him. You look at her with surprise.
âYou have?â
She nods. âIâve seen him try very hard to follow in his fatherâs footsteps since the moment he joined them.â she states, her choice of words making you furrow your brows in confusion.
Noticing your expression, she quickly clears her voice.
âI mean to say, that Yunho has only learned from what heâd been surrounded with since birth.â
Money. Authority. Ruthlessness.Â
Her voice softens. âNo one can learn much when they're surrounded with shadows, darling. But thatâs all Yunho has had up until now. When his mother and father died during his senior year of boarding school, I couldnât imagine how terrifying it must have been to see your own blood relatives âeven if distantârush to claim every scrap of your inheritance,â she confesses, forcing you to step back and absorb the full weight of such calculated betrayal.
Yunho had no parents. Even his own blood tried to steal his inheritance from him.
âThat boy had to prove to others that he could protect his familyâs legacy. A legacy that wasnât always supposed to be his.â she recalls solemnly.
âFor Mr. and Mrs. Jeong who originally had no heir to pass their inheritance to, Yunho was their sole beacon of hope.â She stated.
âThey loved that boy, and he did the same. How heartbroken theyâd be to see even his father's vice-chair committee look down in skepticism that an eighteen year old heir could take over.â
She chuckled dryly.
âBut of course, he didnât back down from that fight either.â
You glance over to envision the young, helpless boy who had grown into a powerful, leading man. Studying the subtle rise and fall of his breathing as he navigates the details of the agreement with San.Â
Her words replay in your mind, providing context with why Yunho needed to carry quiet strength and precision with every gesture of his. He had been lied to for all of his adulthood. By his money-hungry relatives nonetheless. And the chairwoman made another great point.
No matter how many walls someone could try and put up, they can always be broken down.Â
You wonder if perhaps that's why Yunho continued to keep you close. To him, you were an open book. A relatively small threat⊠at least, with what he knew about you so far.Â
You shake your head to get rid of that idea.
Only after the liquor is finished and his anger reaches a simmer, does San turn to his grandmother, shaking his head and urging her to head back home early for some rest.Â
âLetâs go, halmeoni,â he gently ushers his grandmother, getting up from his seat. The woman slowly stands with her cane, with the both of you also standing up to show respect.Â
âYunho,â she smiles, calling the multi-billionaire by his first name because she can. She clutches her cane closer as she holds onto her grandson's strong arm for support.Â
âYour father would be proud to see his son upholding the family name,â she mutters.
Yunho is quiet, hands folded over one another as he stares down the elderly woman intensely at the mention of his father.Â
As she shuffles closer, you watch as the chairwomanâs eyes darkened in determination, whispering something that only proved she still had her mind and morals fiercely intact.
âBut heâd be just as disappointed to see my grandson and I tear you apart.âÂ
You watch as Yunho registers her promising threat, lips forming a small smirk before he takes a deep respectful bow to the elder.
âI look forward to it, maâam.âÂ
She ignores his response, turning to his left to see where you stood waiting patiently nearby.Â
âIt was quite lovely meeting you, dear. You may come visit me in my sonamu garden sometime. Youâll love the red pine trees in the fall.â she grins, showing the rare sight of her teeth.
You copy Yunho and bow deeply with respect as well.Â
âIt would be my absolute honour, Chairwoman Choi. The pleasure was all mine.âÂ
San bows to you as well and bids you a well-mannered good night. But with Yunho, casting one final, piercing look at the CEO is all he thinks he deserves.Â
San turns and helps escort his grandmother away, noticing how she doesnât hesitate to slap her grandson on the back and chastise him for having too much to drink tonight. The boy pouts, rubbing the pain away with rosy cheeks.Â
Once the Choi's are gone, you slump back down in your seat, a wave of tiredness washing over you from the long, intense meal.Â
Who knew dinner could be so hostile?
Yunho stood nearby, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear and petting your head softly. Somehow, you could tell this would be a habit of his towards you.
âYou did very well tonight,â he praised softly. He knew business dinners could be exhausting.Â
Thatâs why his past dates never lasted long enough to earn a second one.
You closed your eyes, leaning into his warm touch as you slipped your sore feet out of your heels from underneath the draping table cloth.Â
âSheâs one heck of a lady, but I can tell that sheâs become tame these past few years.â he mutters, the gears in his brain recalculating the steps and strategies he needs to pull in order to seal this deal the next time he encounters the Choiâs.Â
âSheâll probably be leaving the business to her grandson now, judging by the way she sat mostly in silence tonight.âÂ
In Yunhoâs lawyer, Patrickâs eyes, tonight wouldâve been a complete failure. He didnât get Chairwoman Choi to sign the agreement, and there were hardly any productive developments from discussing business with her grandson, San.
Still, Yunho enjoyed dinner with you nonetheless, and found that your presence beside him helped very much.Â
The CEO lets out a hum at you when your soft, tired voice cuts him from his thoughts. You blink away the tiredness as Yunhoâs palm continues to gently play with your hair.Â
âCan we go back to the hotel now?â
The large doors of the penthouse open, the soft shuffling of your tired bare feet echo throughout the front foyer. Your high heels were picked up in Yunhoâs hands after you discarded the painful shoes the moment you got in the elevator of the hotel. You groaned, heading over to slump in his white cashmere sofa as he quietly locked the door shut, placing the red bottomed heels on the ground.Â
âWould you like to wash up first, or should I?â Yunho sighs, loosening his tie and unbuttoning the trail of his suit vest. He watches you turn your head thatâs resting on the arm of the sofa upside down, a bold suggestion passing your lips as you shoot him a look he already knows means trouble.Â
âWhy donât we do it together?â
He stands still, one hand unbuttoning his white shirt while smirking at your words as he gestures to the master bedroom.
âCome on, then.â
Getting into said shower was more of a hassle than anything else. You had to have pried Yunhoâs hands off your body at least ten times, seeing as they would latch onto any part you revealed when you stripped out of your cocktail dress and matching lingerie set.Â
âSo soft,â Yunho whispers, kissing your temple as you both stand in front of the bathroom mirror. He held your form from behind, arms circling around your waist and holding you close to his bare chest as you rested your tired head against it.Â
Two hands roamed your stomach, fluttering kisses being constantly pressed against your bare neck and shoulders as Yunho ended his long, draining night with your warm body in his embrace.
âThe waterâs ready,â you giggled, reminding him how the shower head he turned on earlier was probably letting out warm water by now. You ignore his pleas to continue staying like this, intertwining your hand with his own large ones and bringing him into the booth to stand under the water. Both of you moan the second the water hits your bodies, as a reviving feeling returns.
Yunho even curses under his breath, standing tall to let the water hit his back while your fingers traced over his lean abdomen and strong chest.Â
The only sounds come from the running water, pit pats resonating as the droplets hit the shower booth floor. You look up at the naked man holding you in his arms, noticing his hair stick to his forehead as the water keeps his eyes shut.Â
âYou didnât speak much after dinnerâ you mumble, pressing a kiss to his clavicle.
He slowly opens his eyes, rubbing his face to look down at your damp hair and bare face as the water travels down the valley of your breasts. When you try to hold eye contact for a moment longer, Yunho diverts his attention away. He doesnât want to discuss the earlier events of tonight too much.
With hesitation, you bring up what Chairwoman Choi told you.Â
âIâm sorry about your parentsâ you told him softly, holding him closer. You feel that he needs it.Â
Yunho stares down at you, pulling back a bit to look in your eyes and guess how you knew such personal details before you cut him off.
âThe chairwoman told me.â
The shower head runs continuously, steam rising amidst the quiet space between you two.Â
âI thought back to what I said about your parents the first time I came here.â you say, focusing on Yunhoâs chest, and the way it rose up and down with every careful breath he took. You recognized what a sensitive topic family could mean to him.
âI still meant it,â you admit, looking up at the dark orbs staring you down in intimidation.Â
âThey would be proud of you.âÂ
Yours and Yunhos hearts are so close as they are pressed against one another right now.Â
âThe chairwoman is proud tooâ you say, moving to adjust your embrace and unknowingly nuzzling your breasts sideways against his body while the man lets out a low, painful moan.Â
Yunho doesnât say anything back, choosing to instead pick you up carefully and press your body against the shower wall, your breath hitching as the cold surface sends shivers down your spine.Â
âYunho,â you whispered. He doesnât react to your words, choosing to lose himself in your body tonight.
You gasp when you feel something bare and hard brush against your body, realizing this was the first time Yunhoâs cock was lingering near your lower entrance.Â
With his arms hoisting you up by the undersides of your thighs, you could spread them just enough so he could watch the water drain through your pelvis, your sopping hole getting droplets from the shower water above.
He watches your facial expressions with attention, the way your mouth contorts and soft breaths come out unevenly when his fingers insert themselves boldly into your entrance.Â
The water allows him to slide way too easily for your liking, as your breath becomes lost amongst the humid air.Â
âahâ fuck, yunhoâ you breathed, feeling his digits stretch you out for the third time that day. The glass doors and windows of the shower booth keep fogging up.
And yes, the third time that day was correct because someone decided it was a good idea to let off steam in the middle of an intense business dinner by dragging you into the nearest restroom and shoving their tongue in your pussy.
Your clit tingles with the way you remember how he muffled your moans by shoving your panties in your mouth as you let him taste your sweet nectar for the second time again that day.
Youâre absolutely positive by now that Yunho was initially lying when he said he only wanted to hold you in his arms when you discussed the physical intimacy part of your contract. Along with the fact that he enjoyed occasional cunnilingus.Â
For one, he shouldâve specified he wanted to hold you in his arms while he kisses you until youâre out of breath. And secondly, he shouldâve specified that he enjoyed constant cunnilingus that fuelled nothing but an unsatisfied hunger of his.
âyouâre still so tight,â he mutters in awe while shaking his head, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. Yunho dares to add two more fingers, bringing it to a total of three fingers stretching your cunt right now.Â
âshit!ââ you groan, jolting at his touch.
While you do love the sensation, your eyes canât help but drop back down in curiosity to witness his engorged cock bristle and twitch against your body. Yunho actually jerks back every time it does, hoping not to alarm you with the act of penetration.Â
At least, not just yet.
You feel unsatisfied with only your pussy getting the attention, a craving falling upon your sweet lips when you tell Yunho directly.
âSlap it on my tongue.âÂ
You abruptly urge him to lower you to the ground, to which when he does, you push him back to let the running water flow through the gap between you.Â
You look up at the older man with lust clouding your vision, noting the dull ache in your pussy from the loss of contact of his fingers, and yet an even more insatiable want settling on the tip of your filthy tongue.
You needed to hold Yunho in your mouth.Â
Absolutely all of him.Â
His brows furrow at your actions, eyes wrinkling with the water getting in them, though a low groan escapes just when he realizes what you mean.
His line of vision traces down, back to where your attention has been this entire time.Â
âdonât fucking tease me,â he warns you with baited breath, running his fingers through your hair and firmly pressing you back against the marble walls, reminding you of his power over you.Â
Yunho had as much power over you to keep you under control, and yet you still fought back, your voice raising in protest.
âIâm not teasing!â
Sorry but he has to laugh. Heâs seriously underestimating your mouthâs capacity.Â
âYouâre going to struggleâ he warns in a deep voice, begging you to just back down for once and stop challenging him.Â
But he knows you wonât ever consider that with the way you smirk and run your hands over his ass, giving him a squeeze while digging your nails into the flesh. Yunho jolts forward, his rigid cock brushing into your wet hairy bush.
âI donât careâ you whine, pulling him in with proper bait.
The tall man resists your hands pulling him in by his hair, raising his hands to cage you against the wall so that his thick, leaking cock be the bridge between your bodies.Â
You nearly cum when you hear Yunho finally place his command upon you.Â
âHelp yourself, thenâ
A surge of pervertedness flows through his veins when you get down on your knees, face level with the member as he steps forward, accidentally hitting your cheek with it. You blink in surprise, glaring up at him as he chuckles nervously.Â
âSorry, babyâ he coos, helping you guide your mouth to latch onto his bulbous head properly, his large hands resting against the back of your head.Â
âChoke on it if you can.â He lets out, feeling your warm mouth expand with every inch you welcomed him with. You took him like a fucking champ.Â
Yunho tastes salty but fresh, his tip hitting the back of your mouth and playing a teasing game of tag with your uvula.Â
Your moans vibrate against his dick directly because heâs barely letting any space get between your mouth and his cock. So your whines donât even come out perfectly.
âI want to hear you.â he still insists, fists clenching against the cool marble as he thrusts up hard into your mouth. You shriek, making eye contact with a rosy cheeked Yunho who stares down at you in amazement.
âMhugh!â you slobbered, glaring up at him as you try and chastise him for using your mouth too much as per his wishes, but it all comes out sounding like complete gibberish.Â
Yunho canât help but smile, unknowingly realizing how nice it was to have you choke around him like this.Â
âMf fmg bickâ you huff, trying to call him something along the lines of âyou fucking dickâ but failing and just having to literally take his dick instead.Â
Yunho thrusts into you at a steady pace & works his magic to make you completely unravel beneath him. He places delicate strokes of affection through your hair, making a makeshift cover for your face with his hands when some of the shower water splashes in your eyes while you're working hard below.
Suddenly, you pull back for a moment, rubbing your fist to pump Yunho's massive cock as your head dips lower into his pelvic region and your mouth latches onto a bulbous sack of flesh.
âSHIT-âÂ
You repeatedly conduct the motion of plopping Yunhoâs balls in your mouth, your sweet lips encasing around them like a present needing wrapping paper. His hands fly to the wall for support as he watches you suck him with such fervour and enthusiasm.
âJust like that, sweetheart. That's it, suck those balls real good.â
Your nose touches the underside of his long member repeatedly, applying precise suction and pressure to his testes that leaves Yunho to rut his hips pathetically against your mouth.
Your knees begin to hurt a little, the pattern of the marble tiles indenting in your skin as you continue to let Yunho place his balls sloppily against your mouth and chin.Â
With the thumb of your hand rubbing the tip of his cock as well, smearing precum all over, he decides he needs to fill your mouth properly when he cums.Â
Yunho pushes away to hear you let out a loud breath for air, sighing with satisfaction and a cheeky smirk before he leans down to press his mouth against your own, teeth clashing and kissing you with absolute obsession.Â
âMhmâ you vibrate against his lips, still cock drunk as Yunho pulls away and stands back up straight to slide his cock into your mouth again.Â
Yunhoâs strokes match their speed from before, going a bit faster this time and making your eyes roll to the back of your head.
âSuch a pretty little thing you are.â
And thatâs all it takes before the man finally pulls out in time to splurt his white semen all over your face, chin and body, watching the white ropes travel down in the drain as you gagged and shrieked in surprise.
âYunho!â You said in an angry tone, though you loved his aiming skills that made sure to target placing his seed in between your breasts so it would slide lower. If his aim had been even lower and you were also in a different position, you might've even swirled it around your nub.Â
âFuck..â he mumbles, immediately picking you up and pressing kisses along the column of your sore throat, praising you and thanking you for taking him so well. His lips are hot as they mumbles incoherent words against your body, practically worshipping you in his arms.
âSo good to meâ he purrs, though you slap him against the arm when you realize why thereâs so much of him all over you.
âYou liked shutting me up, didnât you?â you croaked, accusing him as his hands massage your thighs, letting your legs wrap around his waist. Yunho supports you carefully as your eyes begin to narrow in on him.Â
âYou liked stuffing my mouth fullâ
The billionaire does nothing but grin, pressing his lips against your for a proper kiss now, making you forget your words and shut your eyes in bliss. Usually he loves hearing you speak, but he finds that sometimes, itâs not half as bad shutting you up this way either.Â
The next morning, just as Yunho is about to leave for work, he pauses by your side. Youâre still fast asleep, curled beneath the sheets as his expression softens, and the side of the bed dips with his body weight. A warm hand rubs your back, stirring you awake.
âCâmon, sweetheart. More shopping todayâ he says lightly, his tone teasing as he sets his credit card on the nightstand. He seems in unusually high spirits this morning, smiling when you let out a sleepy groan in protest.
When you sit up, stretching, Yunho studies you with mild confusion.Â
âI was honestly expecting you to buy a few more dresses yesterday,â he says with a quiet chuckle. He reaches for his watch on the stand nearby.
âI was surprised to see you didnât go all outâ
Your response lacks enthusiasm, wiping the sleep from your eyes tiredly.Â
âI didnât like it as much.â
The shift in your tone makes him glance back, reading your face as the image of the two female store clerks is repainted inside your head.
Their stares. The judgment in their voices. How small they made you feel. The memory still stings. Yunho stops and turns to look at you while in the middle of putting on his wristwatch when he hears you then confess.
âThey were mean to me.â
The manâs expression hardens. He leans closer, propping your chin upwards with his thumb so he could look at you properly.
âMean to you?â
When the flashes of disappointment and embarrassment cross your face, you choose to hold back your response to his words, bringing your head back down to avoid eye contact with him.
Yunho shifts closer to you in silence before reaching for the phone on the bedside table, carefully picking up the receiver.Â
You furrow your brows.
âWho are you-â
He gently lifts a finger, quietly silencing you before the line picks up.Â
âStart the morning briefing without me, Patrickâ he says, no further explanation needing to be given to his employee.Â
When he turns back to you, a small smile returns.Â
âCome on, sweetheart. Iâll show you how much fun shopping can really be.â
Yunhoâs pace is unhurried as always, confident with every stride he takes along the concrete sidewalk of Rodeo Drive. It was the same place youâd visited just yesterday afternoon.Â
His fingers are laced through yours, the steady grip firm and reassuring, unbothered by the glances of those passing by.
âPeople are looking at me,â you huff, tugging at the hem of your skirt as you struggle to match his long strides.
Yunho corrects you. âTheyâre looking at me. And even if they were looking at you, forget them.â
A twinge of skepticism resides inside you. Even if you did have Yunho by your side this time, youâd still lack protection against the judgemental stares and backhanded comments launched by some other snobby sales associate.Â
âThese stores are not nice to others,â you point out, shaking your head. âI donât like it hereâ
Yunho lets out a quiet chuckle, eyes fixed ahead as his free hand slips casually into his pocket.Â
âStores arenât supposed to be nice to people, sweetheart. Theyâre nice to credit cards.â
You roll your eyes, but before you can reply, he stops abruptly in front of a glass-front boutique gleaming with white marble and gold accents. Turning toward you, Yunho reaches out to brush a loose strand of hair from your face, his expression unreadable.
âAlright,â he says evenly, âspit out your gum.â
You narrow your eyes at him, feeling a flicker of defiance rise.Â
Thereâs something about the way Yunho commands everything. So confident and unbothered. How he pulled you out of bed this morning despite your protests against shopping somewhere like here where you felt as though you didnât belong. It makes you want to push back.
Knowing heâs watching, you turn your head and spit out your gum onto the sidewalk unpleasantly.Â
âSatisfied?â you hum.
The older man stares down at you, jaw tightening ever so slightly.Â
âI cannot believe you just did that,â he mutters under his breath, though a hint of amusement ghosts across his face when he catches your smug grin.
This time, when you step into the boutique, the atmosphere feels entirely different.
A woman in a tailored blue blazer and pencil skirt greets you with a polished smile, the sapphire of her pearl earrings catching under the boutiqueâs soft lighting.
âWelcome! How may we help you today, sir?â she asks Yunho who steps forward first. Â
He releases your hand for a moment, looking straight at the woman as his voice drops into that smooth, low register that always had a charm for getting people to listen.
âDo you see the very lovely young lady standing beside me right now?â
The saleswomanâs gaze flickers toward you. Her smile wavers, though she tries to recover, blinking once before replying,Â
âYes, sir. Of course.â
âGood,â Yunho says simply. His lips curve, though his eyes remain steady. His intimidating demeanour is deliberate.
âThen I suggest you get every associate you have in this place to help her find whatever she wants.â he states, eyeing him from afar as he leans in just a fraction to lower his voice to something almost conspiratorial. âBecause we are about to be spending an obscene amount of money in your store today.â he promises, lips threatening to curve into a grin when he feels your hand slap him on the shoulder lightly.Â
A small hush follows his words, and for a moment, you feel every pair of eyes in the boutique turn in your direction.
Only this time, it's not judgement but sudden, sharpened interest.
The woman is sharp enough not to waste another second. She had suspected who the multi-billionaire was the moment he crossed the threshold of her store.
âRight this way, miss,â she beams, her tone switching instantly from polite to perfectly accommodating. Within seconds, she snaps her fingers, summoning a team of associates who rush over as if answering a royal decree.
Youâre gently ushered toward a plush velvet seat near the center of the boutique. The cushion sinks beneath you, soft and indulgent, while a faint scent of jasmine drifts from the nearby display.
âYouâre absolutely radiant, my darling,â the manager coos. âI can assure you weâll find plenty of things youâll fall in love with from our new spring collection.â
Before you can even reply, a flurry of movement surrounds youâheels clicking against marble floors, arms laden with racks of silk, chiffon, and cashmere.
âHello Miss, my name is Emilia,â one of the consultants introduces herself with a polished smile. âItâs my great pleasure to assist you today.â
âHow about these heels?â another girl asks brightly, presenting a delicate pair of red soles.
âThis dress would look absolutely stunning on you!â chimes a second voice.
âAnd this scarf! Your hair color would just bring it to life!â adds a third.
Itâs overwhelmingâthe abundance of choice, the rush of voices, the warmth of attention. Only yesterday you had been dismissed, judged, treated as if you didnât belong. Now, here you were being the center of someone elseâs orbit.
Your eyes instinctively find Yunho. Heâs standing off to the side, phone in hand, his voice low and steady as he speaks to someone on the other end. When he notices you looking, he pauses just long enough to meet your gaze. The faintest smile of satisfaction tugs at his lips.
âLadies!â the store manager suddenly chastizes, clapping her hands together,Â
âWhat are we doing not offering our guests their complimentary welcome drink?â
A soft laugh escapes you, warmth flooding your chest as a flute of champagne is placed delicately into your hand.
Yunho catches the sound of your laughter and, for a moment, Patrickâs voice shouting through the phone fades into meaningless noise. The warmth in your tone pulls his attention entirely, an unguarded sound that makes his chest tighten.
When you look up and your eyes find him across the room, you offer a small, genuine smile.Â
Thank you, you mouth softly, the words lingering between you like a secret.
Yunhoâs expression softens. He waits until heâs certain youâre watching before forming his reply. Three words shaped carefully from across the sea of designer clothes and luxury shoes.
You deserve it.
After practically buying out the boutiqueâs entire collection of clothes and accessories, Yunho calls his limousine to pick you both up. The two of you leave the carâs trunk packed to the brim with glossy shopping bags, a quiet surge of satisfaction flickering across the rich manâs face as he settles into the back seat beside you.
âYou just spent over ten thousand dollars on clothes, you know that?â you whispered to him, fidgeting with the end of his tie as your head rested against his chest. Yunho smiles, the amount being just a plain regular number to him.Â
âYour point?â he smirks, letting his hand wrap around your waist and slide down your thigh, enjoying the feeling of your body nestled next to him.Â
âTheyâre all for you. You deserve itâ He repeats, knowing heâd do it again in a heartbeat.Â
You shake your head, unable to believe how casual Yunho was treating this.Â
âDonât you need to go back to the office and make more money for me to spend?â you joked, looking up at him and feeling the way his chest rumbled with low laughter. You cling onto him with affection.
Yunho looks down and confesses something to you.Â
âI did something I havenât ever done in my life todayâ he grins, realizing how you were slowly changing him.Â
âAnd whatâs that?â you asked.
âI called the office, telling them I was going to take the day off with youâ he muttered, leaning in to lock your lips in a slow, passionate kiss.
You let out a soft moan, both of you molding each other's body to fit with one another. Your eyes are closed, lost in the sensation before you push him back in realization.
âWait, wait wait, youâre telling me youâve never taken a day off in your entire life? All thirty-seven years?â
Yunho winces at your reminder about his age.
âIs that really so surprising?â he retorted back.Â
You lean back your head against his chest, the limousine moving swiftly through the streets leading back to the hotel.Â
âWell..yeah..â you muttered in awe, twirling a strand of hair around your index finger in deep thought. How on earth Yunho had managed to work like he did without any breaks made you wonder how he was still functioning to this day.
Thatâs when an idea pops into your head.Â
âYou know what?â you declare, sitting up and looking Yunho properly in the eyes.Â
âWe need to do something fun todayâ
âDidnât you think shopping was fun?â he asks, watching as you roll your eyes.Â
âOf course I thought it was fun! I just meant we should do something youâve never done before. Something other than taking a day off.â
Yunho hums thoughtfully, the corners of his mouth curving into a grin as he tilts his head, studying your animated expression.
âAnd what exactly would that be?â
âAnything,â you say, eyes lighting up. âI could take you to explore parts of the city youâve never seen, ride the subway downtown, maybe even visit the Port of Los Angeles and eat wiener dogs by the waters. Just⊠normal things youâve never done before.â
Yunho laughs, considering your suggestion. It completely contrasted something heâd usually choose to do with his free time.
Yunho carefully leans in.
âThen why donât I also indulge you in some trips to places youâve never been before either?â
You quirk your brow in interest.Â
âWe can take my private jet to see the opera âLa Traviata" in San Francisco. â he gleams, smiling at the idea.
âI have a yacht we can use to cruise around the port, or you can even accompany me for dinner at my favourite jazz bar downtown.â
âItâll be me giving you a taste of my worldâ he shrugs, watching as you smile at him, beaming at his words.
Your fall quiet, looking at the man in front of you straight in the eyes and identifying the comfortable silence settling between one other.
You'd grown so accustomed to this dream lifestyle with him, a part of your heart aches inside your chest when you realize you're going to have to leave it all so soon.
You try not to think about it too much, masking your guilt with performance.
âCareful, Yunho." you teased, breath hitching when delicate fingers slid over the flesh of your inner thighs.Â
"You only have me for two more days, and yet I'd say youâre thinking of keeping me for even longerâŠâ
He softens, slowly breaking down his strictly business facade bit by bit, with every moment of physical touches and soft whispers shared between you and him.
âI guess I need to be spending my time more wisely with you then.â
You hum in response, leaning back to your spot with your head on his chest as you hear Yunho take charge and call out to his chauffer.
"Get the jet ready. We'll be making a few short trips today"
â pairing: exstripper!reader x billionaireceo!yunho
â chapter warnings: reckless driving, a scene of physical abuse (reader gets slapped by someone), violence (bc you hand their ass back to them), profanity, drinking, smoking, blood, age gap (yunho is 37, reader is 26) SMUT â oral f receiving, pussy eating king yunho, cum play, hand kink, petnames, fingering, begging, cocky ass yunho, size kink, overstimulation (f), prob forgot some more
â synopsis: LIVING IN BEVERLY HILLS comes with its perks. But for two different people such as yourself and multibillionaire business tycoon, Jeong Yunho, both of you canât seem to find what youâre looking for in the so called 'land of dreams'. So the proposal is simple really⊠let him spoil you with money, jewelry and clothes while in return, you stay by his side. . .
â playlist: material girl by maddona, oh, pretty woman by roy orbison, versace on the floor by bruno mars, dirty cash (money talks) by the adventures of stevie v,
â a/n: this is gonna be over 25k so I'll probably have to make it multiple parts! This is just a small taste for what's to come! I hope you enjoy reading:)
â word count: 13.2k
m.list. | pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3
"DONâT MAKE ME FUCKING REPEAT MYSELF AGAIN."
An index finger barely hovers over the trigger of the gun, the man behind it swallowing down his guilt and fear with another sharp threat.Â
âHand over the goddamn money or Iâll litter your brains all over the floor.â
The part timer, looking to be a kid not a day over eighteen, immediately does what he asks, scrambling to dump the change from the register, accompanied with the clatter of quarters and dimes spilling onto the glass counter.Â
The man looks down at the embarrassing amount, dissatisfaction flashing across his face .Â
âAre you fucking kidding me? You think this is a fucking joke to you right now?!â He barks back, shoving the gun closer.
âM-My boss came in earlier and collected all the money we had, I-I swear!â The boy's pubescent voice cracking as he stuttered over his words in panic. A reasoning voice cuts from behind.
âThe boy says he doesnât have the moneyââÂ
âAnd just who the fuck do you think you are?!âÂ
Yunho immediately retreats back to his spot with the gun being pointed at him now, shrugging his shoulders and surrendering his hands high up where he could see them.Â
âNo one, no one in particular.âÂ
Tension rises in this small convenience store open late on Hollywood Boulevard, a man's attempt of an armed robbery going very poorly with only a few bills coughed up on the glass counter in front of him at the moment.Â
Yunho watches the man resort to more violence, grabbing the boy from the collar of his uniform and shoving the gun to his head, the poor kid whimpering as sobs left his body.Â
âHey, hey listenâ Yunho says, quickly stepping into the manâs view with his hands still up in the air. Heâs pointing his gun back at him now, the boyâs collar still being gripped tightly in his opposite hand.Â
âLet me make you a dealâ He negotiates, carefully reaching into his suit pocket. Eyes dart down anxiously to where a Burberry wallet is presented, the snarl on his face suddenly vanishing.Â
âItâs lateâ-I bet the kid wants to go home, you wanna go home, I really want to buy my cancer sticks and go back to my hotelâbut I know that's not happening anytime soon with you and your twelve bucks.â
The armed man glances back to look at the tall, rich looking fellow straight in the eyes, cocking his gun as a warning to wrap it up.Â
Yunho takes a small moment to breathe before continuing. âIâll give you all the money I have in this walletâ he promises. âAll you gotta do is let both the boy and I walk away from this unharmed.â
A moment of silence passes for him to consider the deal, eventually dropping the boy who falls to the ground shaking in fear. When he fails to stand straight, souvenir keychains near the register go crashing down with him.
âHand over the watch tooâ the robber demands gruffly. The businessman shrugs the item off, extending his hand to give the settlements. Was the watch heâs about to give worth four hundred thousand dollars? Yes. Yes it was. But Yunho knows cost and worth are two very different things, and no watch of his could amount for the price of his life. Just as heâs shrugging it off, the sound of the front doorâs bell chiming makes everyoneâs heart drop in a split second. The gun swings around to now point at a loud voice.Â
âI know, Pauline. But let's face it, he couldnât have been eight inches! Thereâs noââ
Three pairs of eyes stare as a young girl walks in with her cellphone propped between her ear and shoulder, rummaging through her purse. Thatâs when you stop what youâre doing and stare, witnessing the robbery occurring in front of you.Â
âLemme call you back Pauline..â you uttered softly to your cell, hanging up as fast as you could. The robber shoves his gun close to your face, blood pressure rising as he shouts threats all over again. âDonât fucking move! or Iâll-â
âJesus, you chose to rob a store on Hollywood Boulevard and this is the one you chose? The one where I get the milk half off for my roommate's cat?â You chastised the bewildered man, striding over to shove your finger nail into his chest repeatedly while you spoke.Â
âW-Who the fuck are you?â The robber flusters, beginning to crack under pressure. Yunho watches in amazement as you show up just to laugh right in the gunmanâs face.Â
âWho am I?â You repeat back, dangly earrings swinging with your aggressive attitude. âIâm the bitch thatâs gonna lasso your motherfucking balls like a cowboy and shove them down your throat unless you find another store to rob!â You hissed, shoving his armed weapon away with a low, threatening voice. âAnd get that gun out of my face.â you snapped, tired and hungry after a long day.Â
It had to be either you were incredibly brave or immensely stupid.Â
The cowardly man blinks at your bold actions, pathetically losing his intimidating demeanor and choosing to throw more insults at you to make up for it. âYou dumb bitch, Iâm gonna blow your brains-â
âBlow my brains out?â You mocked, crushing his ego once more. âItâll be hard for you to do that when I know you donât even have a real bullet in that revolver of yoursâÂ
He glanced down at his gun, beads of sweat already forming at the crown of his head.
You scoffed, having experienced countless robberies where the guy was too chicken to pull threats with a real gun. You roll your eyes as you walk over to the milk section, shoving him out of your way so harshly that heâs knocked into the selection of mothers day postcards nearby.Â
Yunho and the boy behind the register stare in silent fear when the flower adorned postcards go down with him. Â
âFucking cuntâŠâ he fumes under his breath. He struggles to pick himself back up, but when he does, he's so enraged that he grabs your arm with a harsh grip and pulls you back to slap you across the face in revenge.Â
Thwack!
The sound cracks through the air like a whip, curses flying out of you as you clutched your cheek from the impact. Why did guys always choose to hit women across the face? It was pathetic.Â
It takes not even a second before Yunho, who was standing nearby, lunges forward to get his hands on the asshole. That is, before youâve already beaten him to it, whipping your torso so you feed him a straight, clean knockout in return.
It was like you watched it happen in slow motion. From the firm contact, the man plummets to the ground clutching his broken nose. Loud wails and cries of profanity escape from his mouth. The sounds donât even come out clean because heâs caught choking over all the blood dripping into it.Â
âTimothy,â you huffed, straightening your top and ordering the kid behind the counter who looks like he mightâve urinated his pants already. âGo get a mop for the floorâ
He glances once to the man bleeding on the store floor, then back at you before he rushes to find the mop bucket and dial 911. Yunho watches, speechless as you step back but wince in pain when you move your hand. Suddenly, heâs rushing over to examine your swollen knuckles.Â
âAre you alright?â he asks, worry laced in his tone. You glanced briefly at the stranger you didnât know, trying to brush him off.Â
âIâm fine-â
âThis is going to leave a bruise if we donât get you treatedâ He warns, looking over to the freezer section as he grabs some frozen peas.
You watch carefully as the tall 6â foot something man places the bag over your hand, flinching when the sensitivity of the cold hits you, retracting your hand backwards. âGet off!â
The man stops for a moment, looking at your face before he has the audacity to give you a stern look youâve seen teachers give you all throughout grade school when youâd get in trouble. It miraculously shuts you up, forcing you to let your guard down and accept his help.Â
âListen, I canât pay for all this stuffâ you firmly told him, trying to push your hand away though still, his grip didnât weaken. The pain is relieved, but youâre nervous watching the stranger grab medical tape and bandages off the nearby shelf without looking at the prices, giving you an extra ice pack for your cheek while he was at it.Â
But then he mumbles, voice deep and struggling to concentrate.Â
âJust keep still. Iâll pay for it.â
Long, swift fingers work away at bandaging your knuckles like you were some Rocky Balboa of Hollywood Boulevard. To tell the truth, Yunho didnât know what on earth he was doing. He was a businessman, not a nurse. He had never bandaged another personâs hand before, let alone his own. Same went for you because this felt foreignâfeeling such care come from someone you barely knew.Â
When you swipe a small glance at him youâre surprised to see heâs someone tall, good looking and well dressed. With every strand of hair combed in place and a suit that looked tailor-made, he looked like he was on a page torn from the wrinkled American Vogue your roommate Kumiko had laying on her bedside table. And suddenly, Mr. Vogue is staring back at you.Â
âThank you,â He says with sincerity while letting go of your hand roughly taped to a bag of frozen peas. âThat was very brave of you.â Yunho stands with his hands in his pockets, awaiting your response that fails to come out as quickly as you wanted it to.Â
âIt wasnât a big deal.â you mumble.
The corners of his mouth lift at your response, the faint sounds of police sirens ringing through the streets from a distance.
Not a big deal? How could punching an armed gunman in a convenience store be not a big deal to you?
Yunho straightens as he tries to get a better look at your features with you staring at him, asking you politely âWhat is your name?âÂ
When you tell it to him, he smiles, extending a hand for you to shake as he introduces himself.Â
âNice to meet you, Iâm Jeong Yunho.âÂ
You stare at his palm, the businessman quickly reminding himself that your hand was bandaged as he awkwardly retracts it.Â
Yunho clears his voice. âYou mustâve been very scared,â he says, undeniably intrigued at the girl who saved both his and the young employee's life tonight.
You shrugged. âYou toughen up when you live around a place like this in Hollywood Boulevardâ swallowing back the nerves to then ask him,âYouâre not from around here, are you?â
He chuckles, even his laughs sounding upper class as shakes his head, âNo, Iâm not. I was passing by on my way to Beverly Hills,â he explains, running a hand through his dark locks while letting out a sigh. âThought I'd be able to figure out where the hell it was after a quick cigarette stop but as you can seeâŠâ he trails off, leaving the rest for you to piece together.
Red and blue lights now flash outside the store, a police cruiser pulling up. The suited businessman glances back at Timothy who's still quivering a bit and reaches into his coat for some cash.Â
âFor the peas and medical supplies,â you watch him say, eyes narrowing in when you secretly look over his shoulder and watch him open his wallet presenting shiny credit cards lodged neatly in Italian leather. He gives more than enough for the cost of supplies, causing you to crane your neck back and reevaluate just who Yunho was.
âAnd throw in a pack of American Spirits as well.â he adds just when the front doors chime. An officer strolls in with shades covering his hardened gaze, hands resting at his belt and standing tall to assess the state of the whole store. The scattered mothers day cards, the discarded handgun on the floor, the unconscious bald headed man left in a small puddle of blood beside you two.Â
âWe got a call of an armed robbery and dead body?â
You and Yunho furrow your brows in confusion, whipping your head back at Timothy as you cursed him under your breath.
âI didnât kill the guy?!!â you defended yourself in disbelief.
The boy cowers in fear, timidly handing the pack of cigarettes to Yunho who grins as he rips open the packaging of the box. He hands him back his change to take, but he shakes his head motioning him to keep it.
Timothy continues. âI-I thought that because he wasnât moving..â
âJesus christâ you spoke, clutching your head as you closed your eyes in stress. One eye peaks open when you hear Yunho comment.
âYou did knock him out pretty good, sweetheartâ he points out, watching with great amusement as a scowl forms on your face. He towers over you, his shoulders broad and strong as he leans against the counter with a cigarette lodged between his lips.Â
The officer shakes his head, pursing his lips thinly. âRegardless, Iâm gonna have to ask you both for your cooperationâ he states, walking over to you as he eyes your bandaged hand in suspicion.Â
Yunho watches him move closer as heâs dishing his coat pocket for his lighter. That's when you suddenly jolt when you feel a hand come to rest against the curve of your lower back, the soft contact being none other than him as he gently guides you away from the mess and inserts himself in between you and the officer. Almost protecting you.Â
âYouâll have full cooperation with my legal team, officer.â he smiles, presenting a business card in hand. The badged man peers from his shades, rereading the card that catches his attention.
He stands in front of you, grinning at him.
âJeong Yunho of J Enterprises.â
One phone call with Yunhoâs attorney and a bloody man taken in handcuffs later, the cop decides neither of you would need to stay here any longer, wishing you both a safe night as he drives off into the crowded street. You swear the only reason you werenât charged had to have been because of something Yunhoâs attorney said to the officer over the phone.Â
You two stand outside near the curb of the dingy convenience store, neon weâre open lights casting a glow on the highlights of your cheekbones. The night had felt so long already.
âThank youâ You mutter, looking at Yunho as you clutched your wrist in your opposite hand. âI appreciate your help tonight.â you told him, thankful that it wasnât you riding in the backseat of that police cruiser.Â
Yunho smiles âThank you, for saving my life.â You reciprocate, looking away from his eyes and keeping your gaze down at your shoes as you're unsure what else to say. His expression turns into a frown when he sees the left side of your face turning into a crimson shade, evidence of how hard the guy slapped you earlier.Â
âHeâs going to be punished for putting his hands on youâ he promised you, wishing he had stepped in earlier to prevent the impact.Â
You see the look of worry and regret forming on his face, turning away to hide your cheek. âItâs really nothingâ you say before another firm response is promised to you. Â
âRest assured my legal team will handle thisâ. He reaches for his cell to make another call to his lawyer before he catches the view of his black sedan parked a few feet away from the corner of his eye. Yunho stops for a moment, cursing under his breath as he realizes he was still lost and had no idea where he was.Â
When he looks down at you, an idea suddenly pops into his mind.Â
âCould I ask you for a favour? I normally donât do this but seeing how the previous events have played out I figured youâre my best chance in keeping me alive tonightâ he grins.
You raise your eyebrows, hesitating before asking. âWhat is it?â
âI need to get to the Beverly Hills Hotel and clearly Iâm not that familiar with the roads within this areaâ he explains, motioning to the luxurious black car parked nearby. âIf youâre able to direct me there Iâd repay you back for your help tonight.â
The man awaits your response as you consider what heâs said.Â
âHow much are we talking here?â you asked, concerned on the compensation aspect rather than the possibility that Yunho could be a dangerous person. Like some kinda American Psycho organ harvester. Goosebumps travel up your legs as the chilly night breeze prickles your bare skin under your mini skirt.
Yunho smiles, hands slotting themselves in his pockets. âtwo hundred dollars â cheque, cash, whatever it is you prefer, and a free ride in my limousine once we get to the hotel. Anywhere you decide.â he offers.
Yunho watches you ponder about your decision, clutching your purse closer. Suddenly, you're already making your way to his car, leaving him in his spot as your heeled boots echo throughout the empty parking lot.
âFor three hundred Yunho, Iâll show you personal.â
His brows furrow at your counter-offer, calmly resting his hands at his hip as his broad shoulders straighten back.Â
âthree hundred dollars. For road directions?â He repeats skeptically, his voice nevertheless calm. His feet slowly step towards you, reeling him in like prey. This was the only thing Yunho could make himself become the most calm about: conducting business.
âI can do anything I want Yunho, Iâm not the one lostâ you point out.
His arms cross against his chest, a wavering gaze on your bare shoulders revealed by your halter top, and a furrow on his browline. You flash him a sweet smile. âOh câmon Yunhoâ you purred, leaning to sit and rest against the hood of his sedan. Your heeled boots tap against each other from the inside as you remind him.
âI saved your life from deathâs grip and you canât even repay your guardian angel?â you pout. âYou could just give me those hundred dollar bills in your walletâ
âLook, I appreciate the help but- did you look at my wallet?â he stops, momentarily realizing.
You shrug, batting your eyelashes all innocently now that he's caught you.
The man walks on over to you, his gaze never faltering with each slow step forward, making your heart pound against the cage of your ribs. You firmly tell yourself inside your headâchances to make money are never frequent so you might as well take the chance when you can.
When he stands only a few inches away from your face, the material of his pants hitting your bare knees as they brush against each other softly, he bends down to look you in the eyes and repeat his final offer.Â
âTwo hundred dollars, and iâm drivingâ a grin ghosts over his lips. Lucky for him, youâre just as serious when it comes to business too, propelling you to lean in closer this time so your noses are almost touching. Under your facade of confidence you feel as though your heart might stop at any second.
âThree hundred, and I driveâ you smirk, staying true to your motive. You reach into your pocket to unravel a stick of gum and pop it into your mouth, never breaking eye contact. Â
Yunho watches you for a long moment, chewing those bubbles as they pop against your glossy lips once, then twice. Just when it looks as though youâve failed to convince him, next thing you know youâve got him handing over the keys to the car and walking over to the passenger seat, a finger pointed at you in firm warning. Your eyes glimmer when you hear him.Â
âDrive slow.â
Yunhoâs knuckles peek through the skin of his hand. Theyâre bone white, gripping onto the sides of the passenger seat as the polluted street air slaps his face. He shouldâve stolen that steering wheel from your grasp the minute you pressed your foot on the pedal.
âThat was a red light!â he states in disbelief, turning to give you a disapproving look when you rushed through the previous intersection.Â
The engine of the black sedan roars to life like a panther hunting the jungle called Hollywood Boulevard. With you driving in the front seat, it was on the prowl, racing down the street as city lights blurred past the vehicle. You briefly acknowledge his comment by glancing back and seeing the cars you left behind at the stop light. You quickly looked upfront and pressed your foot forward on the accelerator more.Â
âOopsâ you merely reply, a feeling of satisfaction blooming in your chest when you see Yunho shake his head and look away from the corner of your eye, unable to stand your reckless driving. You respond by slamming the accelerator harder, Yunhoâs heart not just racing from speed but from pure, unfiltered terror.
A car on the left rolls down its window, a series of inappropriate swears coming out of an old taxi driver. The CEO watches you lift your bum off your seat a bit, hanging out the window to argue back and flipping him off whilst swearing like a sailor.
âJesus Christ!â He lunges forward, heart pounding against his chest as one of his hands goes to steer the wheel so the car is able to function even without the main driver looking ahead.Â
You huffed in frustration, sliding back in your street as Yunhoâs fist clenched and retreated back to grip the car handle above. Thankfully, both your hands were on the wheel this time. The leather feels cool under your grip, feeling the foreign material up as you drive. âThis is a hot carâ you grinned eagerly, excitement flowing through your veins.Â
Yunho scoffs at your observation. He preferred his private jet over driving anyways.Â
You look to the side, glancing at him as you steer. âYours?â you motioned to the vehicle you were both in.
âNo.â
âStolen?â
He laughs. âNot exactlyâ
When the car swiftly and safely surpasses other vehicles nearby, all thanks to your expert shifting of the gears, the CEO finally asks you. âHow is it you know so much about cars?âÂ
âI used to work a lot of jobs back homeâ you shouted as the wind aggressively kissed your face, feeling a breath of fresh air with all the windows down. âBefore I moved to LA, I spent a summer working at an autoshop in my home town,â you grinned, recalling the memories of the sweltering summer you spent getting your hands dirty with grease and fixing up car parts.Â
When you fishtailed around a corner you ask him a question of yours as well.Â
âHow is it that you suck at driving?â you honk aggressively at the car in front for driving too slow, surpassing it as you moved forward. Yunho exhales heavily.
âMy first car was a limousine,â he confesses, watching as an upcoming stop light appears. He slightly sends prayers of gratitude when you press the brake pedal, slowing down before coming to a complete stop. You laughed at what you heard. âI figuredâ you tell him.
âHow old are you Yunho?â you suddenly asked in curiosity, shifting straight in your seat and adjusting the front mirrors to fix your lipliner while you waited at the stoplight.Â
âOld,â he replies, not giving you anything specific. âAt least older than you thatâs for sureâ
âAnd how old is too old?â you teased, shifting so you could face him directly, presenting a sweet view of your bare legs and a small something else under your mini skirt.Â
He catches it of course. Heâs not blind. Yunho instead smiles calmly at you, finding your sudden seductress act quite amusing. You await his response patiently, never breaking eye contact as neither does he. After a short moment, when you finally go quiet and Yunho thinks you're deserving to know, the billionaire confesses to you. âIâm thirty-sevenâ
The light changes green. You look away before he can finish, already shifting gears.Â
âOh cool! Iâm twenty-sixâ
Yunho has to make sure he heard you right, judging by your carefree response that you werenât so intimidated by this age gap between you two.Â
âCollege?â He asks.
You shake your head. âIâm focused on saving up at the momentâ ignoring the tiny lump hiding at the back of your throat. You clear your voice. âOnce I make enough I can go back.â you state definitively, serious about your future and financial plan. Yunho doesnât seem to say anything more and youâre happy with that.Â
âSo,â you begin changing the topic. âYou here on vacation, Yunho?â.Â
âBusinessâ He corrects.Â
âOh?â you say, turning the corner as you leaned forward, focused on finding the hotel entrance. You think back to the bone white business card he showed the officer earlier.Â
âDo you like running your own company Yunho?â
Yunho laughs at your question, looking at you properly now. Your side profile was very pretty.Â
âIâm quite good at it,â the corners of his mouth lift.
Soon the car pulls into the entrance of the Beverly Hills Hotel, the gears of the car screeching their final choke. You let go of your clutch on the stick, Yunhoâs nail marks already indented in the leather material from how hard he was holding on.Â
âWell,â you said cheerfully. âHere we are! Beverly Hills Hotelâ you smiled, the soft golden glow of the high rise luxury establishment awaiting outside. Yunho adjusts his necktie, about to respond before you cut him off and expectantly hold out an empty palm, a small grin awaiting him.
âI prefer cash by the way.â
He doesnât seem to find your comment amusing, reaching for his coat in the back seat to bring out his wallet. âYou drive dangerouslyâ he notes, handing you your cash. âAnd you should go back to schoolâ he emphasizes, suddenly critiquing your life choices.
You roll your eyes when the bills gets placed in your hand and are accompanied with some unwanted grown adult advice. You quickly tuck it into your right knee-high boot.Â
âIâll go back to school once the money comes in. Just watch meâ you grinned.Â
Yunhoâs gaze never leaves your body.Â
âI am.âÂ
You hesitate for a second, swallowing back the feeling of butterflies in your chest. You feel too awkward to have his attention on you like this, so you quickly wrap things up.
âPleasure doing business with you Yunho. Thanks for the peasâ You winked, holding up your bandaged hand.Â
He realizes youâre leaving. âDo you need a drive back? I can call a limo driver-â
You put up a hand, silencing him as you shook your head and smiled. âNah, Iâm all good. Iâve had enough of fancy cars and bald men tonight.â
Yunho opens his mouth to say something before closing it. He thanks you one last time.Â
âThank you. I appreciate your help.â
You smile, looking away when the car door opens to reveal a hotel valet flashing you a welcoming smile.Â
âGood evening Maâam, welcome to the Beverly Hills Hotelâ
You glance back at Yunho one last time, offering a small smile before placing your hand in the valetâs. As the car door closes behind you, the sound feels louder than it should â final, almost. Yunhos left sitting in silence for a few moments , the noise of the city fading beneath the hum of his thoughts, though all of them circle back to you.
You were simple â at least it appeared that way on the outside. But Yunho watched you talk these past ten minutes. You were sharp. You joked, you flirted, you called him out for his shit driving even though heâs certain you just earned him ninety tickets from speeding down Hollywood Boulevard. You were wild, eccentric, and not a single damn word from your sweet mouth felt fake. It felt real.Â
For someone like Yunho who's used to half-smiles and empty pleasantries, your honesty was jarring. Comforting, too. It was strange, feeling this at ease with someone heâd only just met. Most strangers he meets are either shaking his hand and sliding their business cards to him or pitching million-dollar deals when heâs trying to enjoy his drink.
The businessman glances at the digital clock in his car, the red numbers blaring the time which was a few minutes to midnight. He could go upstairs to his penthouse. Take a shower, light a cigarette, return a few calls to people who only speak to him when moneyâs on the table. That would be easier than what he wants to do right now. Familiar.
Or he could stop overanalyzing this and just be back in your presence.Â
He unbuckles his seatbelt and gets out of the passenger seat, beating the valet who tries to open it for him. âNo needâ Yunho quickly extends a hand preventing him, instead slotting the keys to the sedan in the man's hand along with a hefty tip as he runs after you in fast, long strides.Â
Youâre already walking ahead, heels clicking against the concrete pavement and admiring your hard earned money, the crisp green bills making your heart flutter with excitement.
Finally, you would be able to pay back your landlord and catch up on your rent. You continue to walk towards the nearest bus stop before the call of your name makes you turn around. You squint for a second, eyes widening and footsteps retreating backwards when a breathless Yunho rushes up to you and unintentionally corners you against the door of a nearby telephone booth.Â
âYunho?â
âDo you have any prior engagements tonight?â
The question throws you off. At this hour? You were set on taking the bus straight home with your money, ready to pay off your landlord in the morning.Â
Yunho watches you hesitate to answer him. He speaks again.Â
âIf you donât... Iâd very much appreciate it if youâd accompany me into the hotelâÂ
Now youâre looking at him skeptically. First he asks for you to drive him here, now heâs asking you to go to his room with him? You think to yourself, it's a pretty shit way of him to ask someone out.
âWhy?â you blurt, doubt and confusion all packaged in your tone and delivery.Â
Yunho feels the heavy gazes as hotel guests pass by, staring at the man and woman pressed against each other on the door of the dingy phone booth. He can tell theyâre also looking at how you're dressed, your skirt and your high heels, and he looks down at your body for a moment. Fuck, he could tell you werenât wearing a bra.Â
He leans back, giving you the space you deserve, rubbing his eyes at his poor execution of getting you to stay. How could this be so hard for him? What was it he even wanted to say or do with you?
You try to make it easierâor what you believe is easierâfor him.Â
âIf you wanted us to fuck, Yunho, all you had to do is ask-âÂ
A woman gasps while passing by into the hotel and hearing your vulgar words, clutching her pearls and mink coat closer as her husband ushers her in, sending Yunho a critical look. Â
Two large hands clamped around your mouth the moment you blurted out what you thought were his genuine intentions. Your words are muffled, brows furrowing as Yunho immediately takes his hands off to cover your shoulders with his long black coat. He had to do something about your outfit.Â
The man mutters sternly under his breath, gritting his teeth as he adjusts the collar for you. âIâm not asking for that, Iâm simply asking if you want to stay with me for a bit.â he sighs, running a hand through his hair.
âFor tea?â he musters out pathetically, hanging his head in front of you.
Youâre confusedâ maybe itâs because youâve never had money, but did all rich folks invite their guests into their homes for midnight tea?
You grab Yunhoâs chin, forcing him to lift it just a bit so he's not completely avoiding you. You smile, warmth blossoming in Yunhoâs heart when he hears your voice answer him, two big round eyes looking up.Â
âSure, letâs have teaâ
The whole time, itâs quiet â the check-in at the front desk, the murmurs of guests whispering at the sight of Yunho and the mysterious young girl, the fifty-story elevator ride, and even when Yunho slides his keycard into the penthouse door. But that silence shatters the moment he flips on the lights, and a blazing crystal chandelier floods the entire suite with white brilliance.
âWowâ you blurted out loud, walking into the living room wearing hotel slippers far more luxurious than any pair of shoes you owned.Â
The room didnât scream obnoxiously richâIt was quiet, curated opulence.
Floor-to-ceiling windows framed a glittering view of Los Angeles, the city sprawled out beneath you like it belonged to whoever stood in this room. For tonight, that person was Yunho.
The ceilings were high, impossibly high, making the entire space feel like it could swallow you whole. The walls were a soft cream, accented with classic crown molding and gold fixtures that glinted subtly under the warm lighting. Everything had been designed with restraint â no gaudy displays, no flashy logos â just pure, quiet luxury.
A white cashmere sofa stretched out in the center of the room, low and modern, its texture buttery soft beneath your fingertips. Beside it, a single dark leather armchair sat like a throne, clean lines and cool dominance in every inch of its structure. A glass coffee table rested between them, sleek and minimal, topped with a crystal decanter and two untouched glasses. Like it had been waiting for a scene just like this.
In the distance, a marble fireplace sat beneath a muted oil painting, the flames flickering low, more for ambiance than warmth. Thick drapes hung on either side of the windows, drawn back to let in the skyline. It was a view that made it clear you were a long way from home.
You turned in a slow circle, taking it all in. The kind of world Yunho clearly lived in every day.
Yunho unbuttons his suit with one hand, watching as you sit on one of the italian leather seats in the living room, legs crossing over one another comfortably.Â
âYour parents must be really proud of you.â you said aloud. He doesnât reply to your response, simply letting his finger hook under the collar of his tie and loosen the piece of fabric.Â
He picks up a telephone nearby, pressing a button and dialing someone. You watched as he sat in the chair of a desk nearby, opposite to where you were. Watching Yunho in the soft light, for the first time in maybe ever, you felt like youâd stepped into someone else's story.Â
Gnawing at you from the back, you werenât sure if you were meant to stay. And if he did want you to stay, you were even more scared of what that would entail.Â
âHello, can you send up a traditional tea cart with some white peaches please?âÂ
Yunho orders room service for you, keeping his promise and ordering a lavish tea cart to be sent to the penthouse. A few moments later, and here you were watching him roll up his sleeves as he pours you a glass of omija-cha.Â
âSo youâre ivy league educatedâ You ask, walking over to him absentmindedly before sitting on the top of Yunho's desk. Yunho smiles, eyeing the way your ass propped against his faxes and files.
âWhat makes you think that?â he says, handing you your tea. You accept it graciously, looking down into the liquid ruby blend of scarlet and magenta, before bringing the rim of the glass to your lips and tasting the sweet but sharp tang of the magnolia vine tea.Â
Yunho smiles when he sees you immediately like it.
âI donât know, you've got thatâŠâ you snap your fingers, trying to find the word.Â
ââsharp, useless lookâ you grin, watching Yunho throw his head back and chuckle at your description. You smile, watching him turn to open a silver lid hiding a crystal bowl of soft, fragrant white peaches, motioning you to pick up a fruit fork and try one.Â
âYou should try oneâ
âWhy?â you ask in genuine curiosity. He smiles, shrugging his shoulders as he tries to explain while watching your brows furrow at the sight of the peaches.Â
âThey just pair well with the tartness of the tea.â
â..okayâ you say as your eyebrows raise, stabbing a fork in one of the cut up pieces and biting into a delicate fuzz before juice rushes into your mouth instantly.
The taste of the peach was sweet and floral, tastebuds tingling with excitement from never trying such a delicious fruit before. Yunho watches as it trickles down your chin before you can catch it before diverting his eyes away.Â
It falls silent for a moment, the scent of the tea strong in the air as the steam wafts up to your nose. Yunho takes a long sip of his cup as well, locking gazes with you as you crunch on your peach. Heâs analyzing you, just as you are trying to do with him, and it almost makes the corners of his mouth twitch in amusement. You were feisty, heâll give you that.Â
You bit your lip softly just before speaking.Â
âWell, now that weâve drank the tea and eaten the fruits, what else are you going to do with me?â your voice is soft and innocent without even realizing.Â
Yunho murmurs softly, never breaking eye contact as he sets his glass down on the cart.
âYou wanna know something?â
You playfully swing your legs back and forth a little, settling into the moment.
Yunho leans closer. âI havenât got a single clue.â
Your breath catches â the taste of peach still sweet on your tongue â as Yunho leans in, just slightly, his gaze warm and impossibly fond. The air feels heavier, stretched thin between the two of you. Then your eyes flick to the cup of tea in one hand and the empty fruit fork in the other, and it hits you just how long a supposed temporary meeting has managed to last.
âI hadnât exactly planned this,â he confessed.Â
âWell, do you plan everything?â you ask, taking another sip. He nods.
The quietness is a bit suffocating. Even more than the feeling of uncertainty brought on by Yunho because youâre not so sure what his intentions were, only having followed him in because he seemed like a nice guy and you wanted tea. You push your bum off of his papers.Â
âListen, Iâm used to working on an hourly rate because of my job so can we get this moving along?â You make it clear to him, deliberately moving away from him to put the fork and cup on the cart with a clink.Â
âSomehow Iâm sensing this time problem is a major issue with youâ Yunho replies evenly, straightening to his full height.
You glance at the nearby clock and feel your stomach sink â the last bus mustâve left minutes ago. In just a few hours, youâd have to be up for your five a.m. shift at the diner, refilling coffee and waiting tables. You had no time for romance or peaches.
You sigh, running a hand over your eyes. âIt is, so listen, Yunho. I really appreciate the whole gentleman seduction scheme youâve got going right now, but if I stay any longer then Iâm missing time to get ready for my shift, and I really need that job to pay for me and my roommates rent this monthââÂ
âLetâs take care of that right now actuallyâ he says, mindlessly searching through the mahogany drawers of the nearby desk for something.
You sighed in relief, thinking he was letting you go. âGreat. Thanks for the tea, it was nice meet-â
âHow much for the entire night?â
You stop in your tracks. Surely you heard wrong.Â
âExcuse me?â
Yunho says it without hesitation â not out of arrogance, but out of habit. Heâs not used to not getting what he wants. Which is probably why it doesnât quite register that asking the girl he likes how much she costs is⊠a little rude.
You blink at him, then at the checkbook heâs already found. Something uneasy twists low in your stomach â disbelief or even pity maybe. Turning away, your eyes drift to the curls of steam still coming from the tea cups. You exhale slowly, seeing him stare at you awaiting your price, and so you decide to play with him one last time when you scoff back.Â
âYou couldnât afford it.â
âTry me,â Yunho says, amused.Â
âA thousand dollarsâ you joked, the amount randomly falling out from your mouth.
Yunho takes a pen off the desk, biting the cap and holding it in between his teeth as he scribbles into the book.
âI assumed check works for you as well?â he says, the question coming out muffled from the cap in his mouth.Â
He's dead serious.
Your shoulder loses its strength, dropping your bag to the ground as youâre hit with overwhelming realization. You watch as Yunho proceeds to ask you for your last name, to which you mutter from under your breath in disbelief. He wasnât joking.
He rips the piece of paper, handing it over to you and motioning for you to take.Â
You stare at his signature, then at his face before your hands reach out and grab it. Â
âThere. Are you satisfied? Now, can we move on with the rest of the night?â He sighs, picking up his faxes and mail and flipping through them as he walks past you.
You clench your fists. Youâve done plenty of things for money before â things you werenât proud of â but knowing thereâs no other choice, you sigh, undoing the back of your halter top. One grand was just too much to resist. An upper class CEO brings a younger girl to his hotel room at this time of the night and pays her. You already knew what that meant. You need to brace yourself for whatever Yunho might ask next.
You take a deep breath, your heart racing; itâs been a while since youâve done this, evident by the shakiness of your voice when you tell him.
âJust know, Yunho, I donât usually do thisââ The words die on your lips when you notice he doesnât spare you a glance, already absorbed in a phone call, discussing business.
âYes, thatâs right, Vance,â Yunho says, twirling his fountain pen in one hand. âIâll still need the numbers by next Wednesday.â His brows furrow as he jots something on the papers in front of him, utterly ignoring any and all distractions â including you.
Your hands freeze mid-untie, a surge of unease running through your body as your blood rushes to your ears, wondering if you misread the message.
You step closer to Yunho, taking another chance to give him his transaction. The favours presented in a simple strip show. Your gaze softens into the bedroom eyes you used to use. But when he lifts a single finger, pausing you, you canât help but scoff out loud.Â
Yunho watches you from the corner of his eye, trying so hard not to react before he looks away, returning to Vance or whoever it was on the phone. When you continue to stare at him, he finally speaks to you.
âWhat is it?â he asks, brows furrowed in genuine concern.
Youâre quiet for a moment, confusion and uncertainty lacing with your words.Â
âArenât you going to pay attention? To me?!â you gesture to your body.
Yunho shakes his head, acting puzzled. âAll I asked of you was to stay with me for the night.â He gestures to the comfortable sofa in front of him.Â
You watch in exasperation. âI thought you wanted us to fuck?â
Yunho stares at you, Vanceâs voice still speaking at him through the phone. Yunho tells him to hold once again, covering the bottom half and proceeding to embarrass you with his explanation.
âI meant that Iâd appreciate your presence as a companion, not as a sexual partner.âÂ
Vanceâs voice stops speaking through.
âFeel free to order whatever you like from room service or watch TV. I have a few more calls to make, so Iâd appreciate your understanding.â He dismisses, his tone still gentle.Â
When he goes back to the phone, which is basically right after, he glances down at some numbers on his papers. âWell Iâve got L.A. â Iâm just gonna need Tokyo next.â
âMhmâ Yunho replies, watching as you slowly retreat away to take a seat in front of him in the living room.Â
You canât believe it. You completely misunderstood. Yunho hadnât asked you to stay for a lap dance, or for anything physical at all. All he wanted was someone to be there â just human presence. Youâre so used to men treating your body like a transaction, like the only thing you had to offer was your curves or your touch. Every encounter in your past had come with an unspoken expectation: a hand on your shoulder, a lingering look, a request you didnât want to fulfill but felt obligated to.
It was so easy to grow accustomed to giving and performing, to being a commodity in someone elseâs story. And now, here, in this vast penthouse that stretches out like its own private universe, none of that exists. Yunho doesnât even glance at you as he speaks on the phone.
He doesnât ask for a dance, a touch, a kiss. He simply⊠exists, and he wants you to exist alongside him. The sheer normalcy of it, the ordinary, human simplicity changes your perspective of him in a moment.
You decide that if youâre being paid one thousand dollars to spend a night in such a luxurious penthouse, youâre gonna wanna do it the right way. You glance at the other telephone nearby, carefully picking it up and dialing the front desk, making sure you donât disrupt Yunho with his call.
You donât know it, but he actually watches you silently this time, looking down and smiling to himself when he hears your voice speak into the receiver.
âHi, yes, um could you send up some extra blankets? The fuzzy kind? And some more peaches please?â
Eventually, a distinct area of the soft carpeted floors in the living room are scattered with compliments of the ordered room service. Rented VHSâs of old hollywood movies are stacked in a pile to your left, followed by a few packets of M&Mâs and movie theatre candy all around you. Youâre lying on your belly in front of the tv, eyes crinkling and nose twitching with every loud giggle you let out from watching the movie playing in front of you. The half-empty bowl of white peaches is there as well of course.Â
It's the early hours of the morning when Yunho finally finishes a good chunk of his work. His eyes hurt because he neglected his need for his reading glasses, thinking he was still young, and his back also aches from neglecting proper posture when sitting for so long. Nevertheless, Yunho felt better having you in his company. He liked watching you enjoy yourself from his seat, knowing that for once, the only source of sound being projected wasnât from his tired voiceÂ
Heâs never done this before. Never brought a girl home just to pay her one grand to mess up his carpet and stifle her giggles as she watches Gregory Peck movies while heâs on business calls.Â
He leans closer.Â
âWhat are you watching?â Yunho asks from behind, making you glance back to see bags under his eyes but a smile nonetheless.Â
âRoman Holidayâ you laughed, clutching your stomach. It was a classic, something you always watched reruns of with your grandma on weekends.Â
âIâve got a whole picnic over here, are you sure you donât wanna join me?â You say, mouth curving into a happy smile. You watch as the CEO shakes his head gently, chuckling at your words as he undoes his tie and stands to walk over your torso and sprawled limbs.
âIâm going to take a shower. Please, continue with your movieâ he says politely.Â
Your eyes follow his movements, your giggles growing quieter as you watch him walk away.
He didnât seem to eat. Didnât seem to drink. Didnât even seem to rest. You wonder what the man exactly does for fun as you meekly trace the nearby polished walls of the penthouse with your eyes. The soft light glints off the marble floors, the sleek furniture, the massive windows revealing a sprawling cityscape below. Itâs luxurious, intimidating, and somehow comforting all at once.Â
As you lay on your back, looking up at the crown molding and tall ceilings, for the first time in a long while, you realize itâs possible to just be. Without giving, without performing, without selling any part of yourself. Yunho didnât seem to want much from you, except your company. You snuggle into the carpet more, the fuzzy blankets covering your body as you let out a soft sigh. Happy because at least you had a nice place to sleep tonight.Â
When Yunho steps out of the master bedroom, steam still clings faintly to his skin, damp locks falling over his forehead in soft disarray from his hot shower. The navy robe hangs loose on his shoulders, the faint scent of his body wash mixing with the cool air of the living room as he pads toward the fridge.Â
The faint hum of the appliance fills the area, the sound of a late-night movie still murmuring in the background when he opens the door and twists open a bottle of water, ready to take a sip.Â
Until something on the carpet catches his eye.
A small shape, half-tucked under a blanket, lying motionless on the floor.
You.
Fast asleep in front of the TV, the fifth movie of the night still flickers on the screen, casting pale light across your face. Your empty peach bowl sits beside you, a few stray peanuts scattered near your hair like little constellations. Youâre a very messy girl, Yunho concludes.
He watches as your chest rises and falls softly with each breath, a faint snore breaking the quiet now and then.
For a moment, Yunho just stands there, a bottle forgotten in his hand. Thereâs something tender in the stillness â something that tugs at him unexpectedly. You look so peaceful like that. Unarmored. Younger, somehow, stripped of all the careful edges you keep up when youâre awake.
He sets the bottle down on the counter and crosses the room, each step slow, deliberate. When he reaches you, he crouches down, taking in the details â the way your lips part slightly as you breathe, the faint warmth radiating from your skin.Â
Then without a word, Yunho leans down and gently presses his hands beneath you â one under your knees, the other behind your back. He moves with a kind of reverence, careful not to wake you as he lifts you into his arms.Â
Your head naturally finds its place against his shoulder, a small sigh escaping your lips followed by a murmur of incoherence.
Yunho glances down at you one last time, expressionless before turning toward the master suite. On the screen, Audrey Hepburn is roaming through Italy, just as Yunho carries you away.
The next morning, sunlight pears through the curtains, casting a ray of warmth across your covered body. Youâre dozing off in pure bliss, the covers soft against your skin. But itâs only so long before your eyes blink open, taking in the first item you saw across from you.
A white bath robe placed on an armchair nearby, awaiting your body.Â
A voice makes you jump. âGood morning.â
You turn in the sheets, messy bed hair surrounding your head like a crown as you squinted at the man standing in the middle of the doorway, wearing the same matching navy robe from last night. Shit, what time was it?
You try to grasp your senses together, craning your neck back to sit up straight as the blankets start to slip off the bed.Â
Yunho doesnât mind. He doesnât even seem to care. He simply walks over to you as youâre rubbing sleep out of the corner of your eyes and hands you the soft robe to cover up. You slept only in your halter top and panties, discarding your mini skirt halfway through the night unconsciously. Â
âDid you sleep well?â He asks, smiling at you as he brushes your hair out from your face, softly petting you with gentleness. You stare at him. Does he think youâre his dog?
You nodded, not yet coherent and aware enough of your surroundings to respond with words. Yunho brought his large hands down towards your jaw, grasping your chin so you could look up at him.Â
âFigured Iâd save you the back pain from sleeping on the living room floorâ He smiles.Â
For a moment, you both donât say anything. You allow Yunho to watch you carefully, a knowing look creeping on his face that he thinks he successfully hides from you.Â
âYunhoâ you say, breaking the void.Â
He hums, eyebrows raising as he continues to admire your features.Â
âIâm hungryâ
He chuckles, letting his hand fall so that your hands could grasp the robe nearby and put it on. He gives you privacy by turning his back, thinking youâd simply want to change into your mini skirt before a flimsy top flings near his feet. Â
Yunhoâs eyes widened for a moment, before you tap him on the shoulder, fully covered in the white robe and ready. He extends his hand, leading you out of the master bedroom.
The floor to ceiling windows reveal a breathtaking view of the city in the early morning, met face to face with a clear blue sky and warm carpet from the sunshine. That's when you suddenly find the room service cart awaiting you at the breakfast table nearby, letting the tall man guide you to your seat with your mouth gaped open.Â
âI uh, took the liberty of ordering everything on the menu.â He tells you softly, opening the silver lids to reveal stacks of warm blueberry pancakes, crispy bacon and strudels of all kinds calling your name. âI didnât know what youâd like,â he tells you truthfully.
You stand with your mouth gaping before keeping it shut. âThank youâ
He nods.
Itâs quiet, the breakfast table. No loud noises, no sounds of impatient cars honking their horns or angry landlords banging on the door for rent money. Itâs partially due to the fact that youâre both so high up. Just the soft clatter of silverware against breakfast plates and the smell of expensive cologne lingering on Yunho's bathrobe.Â
Munching away on your choice of a carrot muffin, a long time habit of yours slips through, abandoning the breakfast table seats nearby and choosing to sit on the edge of the tableâspecifically on Yunho's morning paper. Yunho is about to slip the paper away but your ass has already conquered it. He looks at you munching away obviously and lets it slide, sitting back in his chair and containing a chuckle.Â
âSo where did you sleep?â You inquired, inspecting your muffin and picking out the carrot bits to eat first.
âI had some more work to do so I slept on the couchâ he says.Â
You shake your head at his workaholic lifestyle. âYou work too muchâ you comment without thinking.
At the sight of your bare legs swishing back and forth over the edge, he shares an insightful notice.Â
âYknow, There are four other chairs here as wellâÂ
You sheepishly look back, realizing he was right. With an embarrassed smile, you take a seat beside him. Â
âSo what do you do, Yunho?â
Yunho reads the front page of the newspaper in his hands, not looking up but responding to the question. âI buy other companies.â
You furrow your brows. âWhat kind?â
âOnes that need help.â
âOh so you rebuild them!â You stated enthusiastically, looking at him.
Yunho is quiet for a moment. But then he laughs.Â
âSomewhat soâ
You think for a moment, before locking eyes with him. âSo what do you do with the companies once you buy them?â
âI sell them.â Yunhoâs answer comes flat, almost automatic, like itâs been rehearsed too many times. The weight behind it doesnât match the ease of his tone. And when he exhales, the sigh that escapes feels heavier than it should. It makes you pause, your next question dying on your tongue just as the phone nearby rings.
He reaches for it on the counter, his expression tightening when he checks his watch and realizes who he promised to make a call with. The lines around his eyes deepen, the faint wrinkles near the edges of his brow becoming more pronounced.
âPlease, help yourself,â he mutters absently, gesturing toward the breakfast spread before lifting the receiver. The words sound polite, but distant â as if his mindâs already miles away.
You nod, though heâs not looking anymore. Your fingers toy with the crumb of your carrot muffin, appetite slipping away as he disappears behind the heavy door of his office.
Inside, Yunho shuts the door with a soft thud, leaning against it for a brief moment before the familiar, clipped voice of his lawyer breaks through the receiver.
âSheâs a fiery old lady, that chairwoman. One wrong word and we could wind up in court,â Patrick warns uneasily.
It was true. The eighty-seven-year-old chairwoman overseeing Marinex Shipping Company was infamous for being ruthless, sharp-tongued, and utterly immovable once sheâd made up her mind. Madame Choi was a relic of an older business era. When deals were sealed with cigars and intimidation â sheâd survived corporate wars that had buried men twice her size.
The press made her seem intimidating, when in fact all she is, is a woman whoâd inherited her husbandâs empire after his passing and built it into something ten times larger. But as her company was sliding into bankruptcy, Yunhoâs lawyer insisted it would be too easy to take that empire off her hands.
âWell, thereâs a lot that can go wrong with this, Patrick,â Yunho says dryly, dragging a hand over his face. âYou know thatâs why I love this job so much,â his voice heavy with sarcasm.Â
His temples throb â he hasnât slept properly in days, not since the Marinex shipping deal started slowly falling apart. The company was supposed to be his clean win. Now itâs just another battlefield.
Patrick doesnât bite. Heâs known his employer long enough.Â
âYouâve already made quite the impression on her when you intercepted her deal with Nilsson Motors. We canât afford you making another enemy, Yunho.â He can hear papers rustling on the other end â the impatient shuffle of a man whoâs been at his side for years.
Yunho exhales, keeping it from passing through the speaker.Â
âFind a date for the dinner tonight,â Patrick orders. âA nice girl. Get her to make some small talk with Chairwoman Choi, keep her guard down and then make her sign that agreement.â
Yunhoâs jaw tightens at the orders. Thereâs a long silence. Then, without another word, he slams the phone down. The sharp crack of the receiver hitting the cradle echoes through the office.
For a moment, he just sits there, staring at the dark surface of his desk, the ghost of his reflection looking right back at him.Â
Tired, bitter, and alone.
After finishing your breakfast â alone, once again â you wandered around the penthouse to pass the time. The place was big, quiet, and almost too neat, like no one really lived in it. You made sure to avoid Yunhoâs office, figuring that was the one room you shouldnât step into, and instead explored the long hallways and mostly empty rooms.
When you reached the one beside the master bedroom, you stopped.
It wasnât a regular room â it was a walk-in closet, large enough to count as its own space. Rows of neatly pressed suits lined the walls, shoes arranged perfectly on the shelves.
Yunho was there, standing in front of the mirror, fixing his tie as he seems to be finishing getting ready for work. His brow was slightly furrowed on getting the knot right. If he noticed you standing by the doorway, he didnât show it â just kept adjusting the tie with quiet precision.
You lingered for a second, unsure what to do. Technically you should be gone by now.
When you hear a soft curse fall from the older manâs lips, you instinctively pad over the soft carpet floor, barefoot and in your robe as your hands brushed against his.
âHere, let me helpâ
Yunho surprisingly doesnât protest, sitting him down on a nearby couch as nimble fingers go to work at his tie.
The CEOâs hands become empty, awkwardly coming down and shifting as he hesitates to put his hands on your robed waist. You pay no attention to him, too focused on what youâre about to say.
âIâm sure youâre probably wondering when Iâm going to leaveâ you chuckle awkwardly, continuing to work at his tie. You glance up for a split second, swallowing back nervousness as you assured him. âIâll take my things and be out of here in less than a minuteâÂ
His gaze falters for a bit, looking down at you as you help him.Â
âI donât mind, you can stay longer if youâd like.â
You try your best to not let your cheeks heat up, trying to keep yourself grounded and mindful of where you belong, and where you soon have to go back to. Finally, when you finish the knot, Yunho glances back at the mirror to see his perfectly made tie, courtesy of yourself.Â
He smoothes down the fabric. âNot bad. Where did you learn to do that?â
You casually sit down on his thick thighs, straddling them as you wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned in. Yunho watches carefully, letting his warm hands enclose your figure and keep you perched. You were like a monkey.
âI screwed the debate team in high school,â you joke, fingers idly playing with the back of his hair. He narrows his eyes just slightly, and you have to laugh nervously to prevent the shiver running down your spine at his possessiveness.Â
âIâm kidding! My grandma used to do my dadâs ties for work.. I picked it up from her.â
Yunho gives a small, knowing hum. Heâs beginning to recognize this pattern with you â the way you throw him off focus with your words, testing how far you can push before he pushes back. But this time, itâs him who decides to shift the rhythm.
âI have a business proposition for you,â he says suddenly, leaning back against the bench behind him, his hands still resting lightly on your hips.
âWhat is it?â you ask, flattening his suit and collar.Â
âIâm in town until this Sunday,â he says. âIâd like you to stay here with me until then.â
You blink, looking up at him as the words sink in. All while Yunho holds you in his lap like you were his already.
âReally?â
He nods, a small smile tugging at his lips at the sound of your voice. âYes. Would you consider spending the next few days with me?â
You canât help the grin spreading across your face. But youâre also puzzled.Â
âYouâre a rich, good-looking guy. You could get any girl you want for free.â you state what you believed was the obvious.Â
âWhy me?â
Yunho shrugs, his tone calm and deliberate. âIâm tired of the usual options. I want someone who doesnât pretend.â
You blink, surprised by how simply he says it â no hesitation, no charm layered over the truth. Just quiet honesty.
âThey all want something,â he explains after a moment, eyes still on you. âAttention. Money. A story to tell others. I donât want that anymore.â
You furrow your eyebrows, about to protest that youâre not really any different from those gold digging sugar babies if the reason you stayed the night was only because he was filthily rich and accommodating, but he cuts you off.
âI can tell youâre focused on the money.â he assures you. âBelieve me, it was quite amusing though also painful, to have to decline your sweet little strip tease last nightâ he chuckles
From hearing that, embarrassment surges through you, instinctively punching Yunho in the chest and watching as he rubs the aching area while stifling laughter.
âYou asshole! I knew you just brought me here just to have sex!â you wriggle out of his grasp, too angered to be in his lap although he firmly holds you down and seriously tells you.
âI can tell you need the money. Youâre desperate.âÂ
You bit your lip. Heâs right. You needed this money more than any other LA trust fund socialite Yunho couldâve taken home instead last night.
âSo what do you want from me? Why is it that you let me stay?â you ask him for the truth.Â
Yunho exhales, almost like heâs been waiting for that question. âI just need⊠someone who doesnât make things complicated.â
You tilt your head slightly, studying him.
âYou seem fun. Might as well hire someone who doesnât fake half of it cause they need itâ He shrugs.
You think about his business offer strategically.Â
âSoâŠ. No kisses? No sex?â you exclaim.Â
Was that disappointment in your voice?
Yunho blinks, not having guessed that you would be very inclined to offer such things, after the way he saw you nervously fumble with stripping for him last night.Â
He sighs, calling for your name and telling you genuinely.
âIâm not going to force you into anythingâ. Heâs looking at you seriously now.Â
âBut..â he begins, looking away with a small smirk on his face. âI wouldnât mind if you let me hold you like I am doing right now every once and a whileâ he confesses, making your heart stop.Â
âThatâs it?â
Yunho didnât want rough sex? No backseat blowjobs? Just a cuddle buddy?
He laughs loudly at your reaction, throwing his head back. You straddle his thighs, unsure what was so funny to him.Â
âI do like the occasional cunnilingus once in a whileâ he mumbles, ears going a bit red like he was a teenage boy again. You canât believe it.
This six foot something billionaire tycoon was wrapped underneath your bare legs and the most he was requesting from you was to taste your pussy? Occasionally???
âI meanâŠâ you drag out loud, letting your mind wander. âWeâre talking 24 hours a day, thatâs gonna cost youâ
Yunho meets at your gaze again, this time smiling.Â
âOh. Of courseâ he chuckles, letting his hands fall from your body and making you pout a bit when he pushes you off his lap to negotiate business properly.Â
âName your price.â Yunho states with his arms crossed, watching you stand in front of him as he manspreads on the sofa. He has glasses resting on the tip of his nosebridge, hair styled and well kept, just like the way he was when you first met him.
You narrow your eyes.Â
âFour days.. All which happen to be like last nightâŠ.â You inquired for a moment.Â
Yunho cuts you off, giving you a wink. âThey can be a lot better if you want them to be. I have a few private dinners scheduled with clients, but other than that, youâre free to take my jet and limo anywhere youâd likeâ
You ignore him for a moment, counting your fingers hesitantly before looking up and shooting your shot.Â
âFive thousandâ you blurt.
âFour days would be four thousand, my loveâ he makes a point about each day essentially costing him one grand.
âWell then why donât I throw in a few extra offers?â You smiled seductively, playing with the ties of your robe. That was a signal to Yunho.
That even your body could be his.Â
âSix thousand.â he settles, a flash of hunger evident with his gaze on your body. His heart pumps harder, shifting in his seat when he realizes just tastes of your cunt arenât the only thing heâll be getting.
You smirk, growing all the more bolder and raising the bid.
âEight thousand!â
âDone.â
Yunho quickly takes this chance to uncross his arms as if he didnât just promise you two thousand dollars everyday for the next four days, and hooks his arms around your waist to haul you into his grasp, ignoring your screams of happiness and laughter to perch you over his shoulder so your bum is beside his face. Â
âYunho!â you called out, chuckling when you felt a small slap land on your asscheek. You stifle your moan by biting your lips, not wanting to expose that side of yourself to him just yet. But perhaps you already did with that persuasion technique back there. Â
âNow that youâre mine, thereâs something Iâd like to do to you that I hope youâd also agree toâ he growls, his member stiffening inside his work pants.
Yunho carries you to the suite, only to throw you down on the mattress. It causes you to stare up at him with bating breath and squeeze your legs at the sight presented above you.Â
Yunhoâs chest is tightened against his white shirt, the tie that you helped him with, straining at his neck as a hungry, dark gaze is set on your and your exposed ankles from under your bathrobe.Â
Two warm hands ghost over the skin of either leg, making your eyes flutter and struggle to focus with the way his mouth presses soft kisses to your calves.Â
âPlease,â he asks, having always favoured the taste of pussy on his lips before heading to the office. âCould I have a taste?â
Your heart beats uncontrollably, a pool of slick already leaking down your thighs and making you squirm in discomfort from the throbbing need of your clit to be paid attention to.
You nod, his name ghosting over your lips.
âSo itâs a yes?â he smirks, dipping his head down and nipping your ankles.
You moan this time, enthusiastically nodding as your eyes shut in neediness. Yunho doesnât appreciate that though, as his hands grab onto your ankles and a surge of strength overpowers him, pulling you to the edge of the bed while looking at him in surprise as he gives you a firm order.
âWords.â
You linger on his lips for a moment, head falling back. âYes.â
Yunho smiles, satisfied at your answer as he glances at the digital alarm clock on the bedside table near him. 9:34 am.
âI need to be at the office by 10â he informs you, ripping the tassels of your hotel robe open as your naked body presents itself to him like precious gold. He falters his actions for a moment, realizing that your halter top wasnât the only thing you took off earlier, but also your panties. He groans in pain as he leans in, breath hitting your face to gently kiss you, hoping youâll unravel yourself and let him in further.Â
âMy driver is waiting to take me downstairsâ he huffs with a whisper, trailing kisses down your neck as you withered under him. Your nails claw the bottom of his neck, careful not to mess his hair.Â
âThat means youâve got six minutes to cum on my tongue and fingersâ he coos, brushing your hair out of your face and letting his long fingers brush over your puffy clit. You jolt, grasping onto the material of his Valentino suit and crinkling the expensive material.
âAre you listening?â
âYunho, pleaseâ you begged, aching to see the vision of his face in between your legs.Â
He grunts in response. âFuckinâ love how you begâ before sinking to his knees in front of the mattress and diving into your pussy, your lips swiping against his nose repeatedly like the way his credit card would be once youâre done with him.Â
âMm, ah!â you moaned loudly, grasping onto any form of support near you as Yunhoâs tongue expertly explored your mound. You were practically gushing against him, your pelvis abducting in and out in desperation and for more attention.
Yunhoâs eyes shut close, enjoying the smell of your cunt and the texture of your slick. Heâs eaten lots of pussies in the past, but yours might just be one of his favourites.Â
âLook at yourself,â Yunho shakes his head, pulling back to critically analyze your body movements like it was the fucking stock market. âI press my tongue against you and youâre begging for mercyâ he chuckles softly, veiny hands squeezing the mounds of your thighs and butt. Yunho brings his middle finger adorned with his cartier ring and thrusts it in your walls repeatedly, watching your eyes widen and respond almost immediately.Â
âOh, fuck!â you yelled, confusion blossoming inside that sweet little head of yours when you look down and realize not even half of Yunhoâs finger is stroking inside you right now. His digits were just far too long, and he knew it.
âSuch a nice girlâ Yunho praises, kissing your cheek and nibbling on your ear. His fingers insert themselves into you faster, making your vision blurry.
He glances over to the clock again while his face is pressed against your own, whispering soft praises to your open mouth that wails with delight.
â9:37â he announces as if youâre listening to any crap coming out of his mouth right now.Â
âPlease, Yunho, please please pleaseâ you mumble repeatedly, feeling his body on top of you trail down to combine his tongue and fingers into your sopping wet hole, pushing you right over the edge.
âI want to taste moreâ he hums, dying out with the background noise of the heavy panting.Â
âShut uppâ you groan at him, turning mean because heâs not letting you take his mouth slowly. Yunho ignores it, choosing to slap your ass once again.
âCâmon, sweetheart, donât make me late to the office. Thatâs it, give it to meâ he moans in a borderline begging way, looking up at you from his position. Your tits are soft, plush and jiggling to the rhythm heâs set with his fingers fucking inside you. The veins in his neck bulge, obsessed with having some morning dew fall onto his tastebuds.Â
Finally, when your eyes water and a tear slips down, Yunho sighs in pure bliss as a gush of wetness flows into his mouth and runs down his fingers, having to hold one of your ankles down from moving too much.Â
âY-Yunho-â you mutter breathlessly, eyes squeezing shut.Â
Yunho just made you cum with his mouth and fingers in record time. With two minutes to spare.Â
As your cum slides down to your ass, you hear Yunho call out to you gently. âWe may be going out for evenings, by the wayâ wiping the sweat on his brow as he leans back on his knees for some balance after previously shoving his face in your cunt.Â
You try and catch your breath, letting go of the silk bed sheets and staring at the man who readjusts his suit and wipes the corners of his mouth. He takes out his credit card from his wallet and places it beside your left ankle.Â
âYouâll need something to wear tonight.â he huffs, taking a deep breath and smoothing his hair. You simply nod, tiredness rushing over you as you shut your eyes and hear his steps walk away. You figure heâs off to work.
And perhaps you doze off too easily, because before you know it a warm wet cloth is grazing your legs, cleaning you up as a kiss is pressed to your bent knee.Â
âNothing flashy,â Yunho reminds you, looking into your eyes and speaking softly but firmly. He pets your hair. âNot too sexy. Conservative.â he says, wanting you to pick out something nice tonight for the meeting with Marinexâs fierce chairwoman and executive director grandson.Â
He watches as you pick up his black credit card from the sheets, examining the piece of plastic that contained far more potential than you realized.Â
âBoringâ you translated back, rolling your eyes.Â
Yunho corrects you with a pinch to your cheek. âElegant.â
You stare at each other in silence, both of you swallowing down the intense oral session you just had and recovering so you could start your day. Yunho is the first to break the spell.Â
âIâll be in the lobby. 7:45 sharpâ he pats the side of your thigh, raising to stand and shift his trousers for a moment. You glance down for a second, wondering how heâs doing under there.
You prop yourself up on your elbows to look at his reflection in the full length mirror, your soft cunt coming into view from behind him. Youâre not sure what compels you to say it, much less with that much confidence, but the words slip out anyway, directed straight at him.
âIâm gonna treat you so nice, youâre never gonna wanna let me go, Yunhoâ you grin.
For a moment, thereâs a pause â just long enough for you to wonder if youâve overstepped. Then you catch the faintest raise of his eyebrow, the ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips. And somehow, that small reaction tells you more than any words could.
Yunho glances back, watching your legs shuffle seductively on the silk. Like a snake wreathing through his sheets.Â
âEight thousand. For four days.â he reminds you, making the smirk on your face shorten just a little when he retorts back.
âAnd sweetheart, I will let you goâ
When Yunho finally makes his way down to the front lobby, his limo driver is already waiting for him patiently, guiding him outside to where the limo awaits. He greets him as he holds the door out for him, oblivious to the sin heâs just performed fifty stories above. It isnât long before he stops his employer, pointing to his necktie.Â
âAw shucks, looks like youâve got some milk spilled on your necktie, Mr. Jâ leaning forward to try and help rub out the mysterious white stain.Â
Yunho looks down, a faint smirk ghosting his lips before he stops him, assuring him as slides into the back seat, holding the end of his tie in his hand.Â