sad girl β jeon jungkook ! one-shot / no pt.2
creepinβ around while he gets high
summary: you were never supposed to fall for him. not the man who signs your paychecks. not the man with a wife and two kids. but he says heβs unhappy. he says it feels right with you. you know itβs wrong. and stillβ¦ you stay. because nothing has ever made you feel more alive than being someone's secret.
pairing: rich married man!jungkook x babysitter!oc
wc: 8k
warnings: mature themes, adultery/infidelity, smoking.
important note: deleted this bfore cuz i got shit on for not writing βmore smutβ. after thinking about it a lot , here it is again !!! without the smut. i mainly wanted to write this as an angst fic, because hello?? cheating isnβt fun. but i think some ppl took it the wrong way. the smut wasnβt important at all. i kept it vague on purpose , those parts just had details that gave more meaning to the story. it wasnβt meant for jerking off at all lmao.
you love your job.
itβs not your dream job. not even close. youβve never once imagined yourself as a babysitter. not when you were younger, not even as a backup plan. it was never part of the picture.
you didnβt grow up thinking, βiβm going to take care of kids someday.β
truthfully, kids have always been a little confusing to you. unpredictable. too loud or too quiet, too much or too little. like tiny humans with moods that change faster than the weather.
but somehow, here you are. and to your own surprise⦠you're starting to enjoy it.
why?
βkids, stop running around. you're going to hurt yourselves.β
that voice. deep, calm, firm. it cuts through the chaos like a thread pulling everything together.
your heart skips before you even look up.
but you already know who it is.
he steps into the room, and everything seems to still around him. not because he tries to take up space, but because he just does. tall, confident, effortless. he doesnβt need to raise his voice. he doesnβt need to try.
but the kids donβt stop. theyβre too lost in their game, laughter bubbling up like music, tiny feet thudding against the floor as they spin in circles.
he lets out a soft sigh, a mix of exasperation and amusement and reaches for his watch, sliding it off his wrist. you donβt know why that makes your stomach turn, but it does.
βbut appa, itβs fun!β one of them whines, dragging out the word like it might change his mind.
he laughs under his breath, shaking his head as he sets the watch on the table.
βfun, huh?β
jeon jungkook.
the reason you tolerate this job.
technically, heβs your boss. the one who hands you a generous envelope every weekend to watch over his kids. but βbossβ feels like such a dull, inaccurate word for him.
because jungkook is something else entirely.
the way he walks, so sure of himself. the way he speaks, low and even, like he never needs to prove anything. the way his smile changes the whole room. or the way his brow furrows when heβs thinking, tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek like heβs holding back more than just thoughts.
the way he shrugs out of his jacket, the slow roll of sleeves up his forearms, veins and ink peeking out with every movementβ
you pretend not to look. but you do.
everything about him feels like gravity. like something you shouldnβt be drawn to, but are anyway.
βare they giving you trouble, miss ___?β he asks, pulling you out of your thoughts.
he lowers himself onto the couch like he belongs thereβ because he does. his tie loosened, legs spread comfortably, one arm resting behind the cushions.
you take a breath, trying not to sound breathless.
βno, mr. jeon,β you say softly, eyes flicking back to the kids. βtheyβre just playing.β
his gaze stays on you a beat too long. unreadable. and then,
βtake a seat,β he says, voice smooth. βyou donβt have to chase after them.β
you nod and settle into a seat across from him. the cushions dip under your weight, and the room feels quieter somehow.
βyohan, yewon. come sit,β he calls. his tone is calm but firm, a slight shift in authority that even you feel in your spine.
they pause. glance at each other. then make their way over to you, slipping onto the couch on either side like youβre the center of some small universe they orbit.
βyohan wants to play more,β yewon grumbles, arms crossed.
βno, i didnβt! yewon noona said she did!β yohan snaps back, already offended.
you lean in, steady and gentle.
βhey. what did i say about pointing fingers?β
they go quiet. the room settles again.
βthat itβs bad,β they mumble, voices small.
βand?β
βand we shouldnβt lie or blame each other.β
βthatβs right.β you smile at them, soft but proud. βso, what do we say?β
they glance at each other again before offering quiet little apologies.
βgood,β you say, your voice lighter now. βyouβre both being so good. iβm proud of you.β
across from you, jungkook watches. he hasnβt said a word.
but you feel the shift. the way his body sinks deeper into the couch, the slight raise of his brows, the flicker of something unreadable in his eyes.
admiration, maybe. or something quieter.
he knows his kids. theyβre sweet, sure. but theyβre stubborn. they rarely listen the first time. almost never apologize on their own.
and now theyβre sitting quietly beside you like youβve cast some gentle spell.
he doesnβt say anything.
but he sees it.
and you feel it.
βkids,β he speaks up.
his voice is calm, steady. the kind that draws attention without effort.
the kids immediately look over.
βyes, appa?β yewon answers, tilting her head.
yohan just watches him quietly, eyes wide and waiting.
you look at him too, trying not to make it too obvious how your heart stutters when he shifts in his seat, forearms resting on his knees.
βcould you go to your room for a bit?β he says, glancing briefly at them before his eyes flick back to you. βi need a moment with miss ___.β
βokay,β they both say in unison.
they each lean in to kiss his cheekβ yewon on his left, yohan on his right βand your chest warms at the sight. it's so quick, so natural. something they do all the time.
he taps two fingers against the back of yohanβs head as a reminder, murmuring, βno running.β
βwe won't!β yewon insists, grabbing her brotherβs arm and pulling him into a slow walk up the stairs.
and just like that, the room falls quiet.
jungkook sits up straighter. itβs subtle, but you feel it immediately; the shift in atmosphere. suddenly, you're very aware of your posture. you mirror him, hands neatly folded on your knees, back straight, nerves prickling up your spine.
his gaze lingers.
βis everything okay, mr. jeon?β you ask, voice low.
he nods slowly, then reaches for the coloring books the kids had left behindβ sprawled open across the glass coffee table. his hands move with quiet precision, gathering them one by one, tapping them into a neat stack, arranging them by size..
why does it feel like heβs preparing for a difficult conversation?
βyou wonβt need to babysit them,β he says finally, looking up at you. βforβ¦β he pauses, dragging the word just long enough to make your chest tighten.
your heart skips.
your throat closes up.
was your crush on him that obvious?
were you too careless?
shitβ what if this is it?
he sees the way you tense, shoulders rising, fingers curling slightly against your knees. he pauses, then adds, βfor two weeks.β he nods, β the kids will be staying with their grandparents for two weeks.β
your mouth opens slightly, relief just barely catching up to your confusion. βyou mean... i don't have to come in just for two weeks? not like... fired?β
he chuckles under his breath, a soft huff that somehow makes you feel ridiculous and reassured all at once.
βyes,β he says. βjust two weeks. youβll continue on the weekends once theyβre back.β
you exhale like youβve been holding your breath for an hour straight.
he watches you with a small, unreadable smile.
βyou looked terrified,β he murmurs.
βi thought i was getting fired,β you admit, cheeks warming.
βwhy would i fire you?β he leans back slightly, eyes still on you. βthey listen to you more than they do to me.β
you canβt think of anything to say to that. at least, nothing that wouldnβt give you away completely.
so you just nod, eyes flicking down to your lap, trying not to notice the way your pulse hammers in your ears.
you swallow hard, thoughts spiraling before you can stop them.
of course youβve been a littleβ¦ taken with him. who wouldnβt be?
heβs attractive. older. confident in that effortless, dangerous kind of way.
but heβs also married. off-limits.
completely.
you would never cross a line. never do anything reckless. this is just a passing crush. something you'll get over in a few weeks. a harmless little fantasy.
so you blink out of it and look up to see... heβs already watching you.
leaned back, one arm slung over the couch, completely at ease. thereβs the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth ; is it amusement? a smirk? you don't know but, whatever it is, it shoots straight to your core.
you shift in your seat. try not to squirm.
god.
if he werenβt someone elseβsβ
a soft chime echoes through the house. not loud. not intrusive. just a delicate sound, like wind brushing across crystal.
you blink, the thought still unfinished in your head. the tension still caught in your throat.
then the door opens.
not slammed. not swung. it glides. quiet and smooth, like everything else in this house.
heels click against the marble floor. sharp. unhurried. certain. and you donβt have to look, because you already know.
ms. xinyi has returned.
and she doesnβt enter like someone coming home.
she enters like sheβs stepping onto a stage. commanding, composed, every line of her body deliberate.
her dress is deep red silk; elegant, fluid, expensive in a way that whispers it rather than shouts. the kind of red that means power, a color that speaks of control. her hair is slicked back, earrings glinting beneath the warm lighting. a purse hangs from her wrist, small and sharp, probably worth more than your entire semesterβs tuition.
you stand immediately.
not because anyone tells you to. not even because youβre afraid.
but because thatβs what you do when sheβs in the room. because itβs her name on your schedule. her rules you follow.
jungkook may be the one who stays, who smiles at pickup, who folds the envelopes with your pay.
but ms. xinyi is the one who made the call to hire you.
and the way her eyes sweep the room now, like she's calculating. makes it very clear:
she hasnβt forgotten that.
βms. xinyi,β you say softly, a little breathless.
she doesnβt smile. she just nods once.
youβd called her βmrs. jeonβ the first time you met her, hands politely folded in front of you, voice careful with respect. but she had only smiled, graceful but distant, and said, βplease. address me as ms. xinyi. βmrs. jeonβ makes me sound old.β
and youβd nodded, of course. because when a woman like her tells you to call her by name, you donβt argue.
jungkook gets up, but he doesnβt move to greet her like you do. no warm hug. no soft smile. nothing like the way he usually welcomes her home.
instead, he heads toward the bar tucked into the corner of the large living room. a sleek, dark wood counter with crystal glasses lined up on top, all under soft recessed lights. he reaches for one, his movements smooth, and pours himself a drink. itβs not alcohol.
drinking alcohol isnβt allowed while the kids are still awakeβ ms. xinyiβs rule. one of many.
you watch the way his jaw flexes as he lifts the glass to his lips, his gaze fixed on nothing in particular.
xinyi's eyes skim over you with practiced grace. she sighs, so quietly you almost miss it, but she recovers quickly, expression smoothing as if nothing slipped.
βthe kids,β she says. βare they asleep?β
you nod politely, your voice soft but sure. βtheyβre upstairs. had dinner already. yewon finished all her veggies this time.β
a hint of something that might be a smile curves on her lips. she nods. βgood.β
then, without missing a beat, βwhat about their mandarin practice?β
you nod again, hands clasped in front of you. βyes maβam. they learned quite a bit today. they were good, really focused.β
you arenβt just their babysitter. you were hired with purpose. ms. xinyi wanted her children to have more consistent exposure to chinese. they know the basics alreadyβ of course they do, their mom is chinese. but sheβs barely home, and jungkookβ¦ well, he knows as much as they do. maybe less. so she brought you in ; to help them speak fluently, confidently.
youβve spent time building a gentle routine around their packed schedules. school, homework, and everything else expected of kids their age, and you weave language learning into their downtime, softly, kindly.
sometimes through games, sometimes through stories. not always strict. not always serious. theyβre just kids. and they trust you more when you let them breathe.
βthank you for your hard work,β ms. xinyi says, lips painted in a matching shade of deep garnet.
you nod, swallowing your breath. βof course.β
she walks past you, toward her husband. jungkook is now leaning against the edge of the counter, one hand in his pocket, the other wrapped around his glass.
he doesnβt speak when she approaches. just looks at her, calm and unreadable like usual.
she pauses in front of him and her gaze lingers.
then, with a glance back at you, she says, βcan you tell the kids to go to sleep? tell them iβll come kiss them good night later. they might fussβ but you can handle that, right? ms. ___.β
you nod quickly, eyes low. βyes, maβam.β
you turn and head up the stairs, careful not to make a sound.
when youβre finally out of earshot, the calm cracks.
xinyi doesnβt raise her voice, but the cold edge in her tone cuts clean. βcould you at least try to act like weβre in love?β
jungkookβs brow tics. he lifts the glass again, finishes the last sip, and sets it down with a soft clink.
βweβve been acting for years,β he says quietly.
βso act a little better.β
thereβs a pause.
she exhales through her nose, stepping back just slightly but never breaking eye contact. βyouβre getting more distant every week, jeon. i canβt be the only one trying.β
βyouβre not trying,β he replies, tone low. βyouβre working. just like always. and now youβre mad that iβm not playing along like i used to.β
βiβm not just working for fun,β she snaps, though her voice stays poised. βwe both agreed to this life. weβre business people. you of all people should understand.β
βi do,β he says. and he does. but that doesnβt make it easier. βiβm cooperating. for the kids.β
βthen co-operate better,β she says, her words clipped. βwhen they come back from my parentsβ house, they canβt see thisββ she gestures between them, not cruel, justβ¦ resigned. βthis cold.β
he doesnβt answer.
βmy father thinks youβre slipping,β she adds.
jungkookβs jaw clenches. he doesnβt respond right away, but when he does, itβs only one word:
βokay.β
because what else can he say?
he canβt say heβs tired of this.
he canβt say heβs lonely.
he canβt say heβs barely holding the pieces together when everyone around him keeps demanding more.
so he says okay.
because thatβs the only answer that wonβt burn it all down.
βis mama busy again, ms. ___?β yohan asks, voice quiet as he snuggles deeper into his blanket, only his round cheeks and curious eyes visible now.
youβre helping yewon into her bed, gently fixing the corner of her plush bunny pillow when the question catches you off guard.
βhm? no, of course not,β you say, smiling gently as you glance at him. βshe just got back home.β
βthen why isn't she here with us?β yewon asks, a little pout forming on her lips as you pull her blanket over her, tucking her in neatly.
βbecauseβ¦β you draw out the word on purpose, standing up and placing your hands on your hips dramatically, eyes flicking between the two of them. βshe needs to rest, doesnβt she?β
they both pout now, matching each other without even realizing it. you chuckle softly.
βdonβt give me those cute faces,β you tease, leaning down to gently boop yohanβs nose. he wrinkles it with a quiet giggle.
but then his expression turns serious. βdoes mama and appa not like us anymore?β he says suddenly, so quietly it almost gets lost in the hum of the nightlight.
you blink, startled.
βhan-nie!β yewon gasps, sitting up a little in her bed, βyou canβt say that!β
βbut itβs true!β he whines, glancing at her before turning back to you. βtheyβre always busy! especially mama! you miss them too, noona!β
you sigh, moving to sit at the edge of yohanβs bed. your hand reaches out to smooth his hair gently.
βyou both know your mama works very hard, right?β you say softly. βand your appa too. they work so much because they love you. and when they come home, theyβre tired. they just need a little bit of time to rest before they can give you all their attention.β
they both nod, but their eyes are still a little sad.
βplusβ¦β you smile again, trying to cheer them up, βms. xinyi told me sheβd come up soon to give you both your goodnight kisses.β
that gets them to brighten a little.
βreally?β yewon asks.
you nod. βreally.β
βi wonβt sleep till she gets here then!β yohan says quickly, determined now.
βme neither,β yewon chimes in.
you look between them and feel a tug in your heart. βoh and.. i heard you two are visiting your grandparents for the next two weeks,β you say, keeping your voice excited. βwonβt that be fun?β
βyeah,β yewon says, βgrandma lets us have lots of desserts!β
βand grandpa has a really big tv!β yohan adds.
βi bet theyβll be so happy to see you again,β you say, standing back up, smoothing out your skirt. βtheyβll spoil you silly.β
βcan you come too?β yohan asks suddenly, hopeful.
you pause, smiling gently. βi wish i could, yohan. but iβll be right here when you come back, okay?β
βpromise?β yewon says sleepily.
βpromise,β you nod. βcross my heart.β
they both settle back down into their pillows, more at ease now.
you wait a moment, watching their eyes flutter slower and slower before you quietly reach for the door and close it with the softest click.
time to go home.
.
.
βiβll take my leave now,β you say quietly, standing in front of ms. xinyi with your bag hanging neatly on your shoulder, hands clasped in front of you. your voice is calm, respectful. βplease call me if you need any assistance before the kids leave for their grandparents.β
ms. xinyi nods once, eyes sharp but polite. βiβll keep it in mind.β
you return the nod and turn to go, already picturing your long walk to the bus stop, the change of clothes waiting in your small apartment, the silence of a home that doesnβt echo. a far cry from this polished, glass-and-marble world you spend your weekends in.
but before you can take a step, she speaks again.
βdo you go by bus, ms. ___?β
you pause, slowly turning back around. βyes, maβam.β
her lips press together briefly, thoughtful. βjungkook will drop you off tonight.β
and just like that, he appearsβ quiet steps behind her, tugging on a sleek jacket, fingers adjusting the collar like he was already getting ready to step out. timing too perfect to be coincidental.
your eyes widen, a little panic creeping into your chest. βoh no, you donβt have toβ i mean, iβm fine. really. this isβ¦ normal for me,β you say quickly, words tumbling out too fast, hands gesturing as if thatβll help your case.
jungkook glances at you once as he pulls the zipper up. his face is unreadable.
βsure,β he says, voice smooth and low. βwait outside for me. iβll be there with my car.β
then, without waiting for your reply, he leans in and presses a soft kiss to ms. xinyiβs cheek. your eyes flick to her face, watching her expression shift for a momentβ almost content.
maybeβ¦ theyβre fine again? you canβt tell, but the tension that hovered earlier feels thinner now. less sharp.
he walks past, straight out the door.
ms. xinyi turns back to you, her hands now loosely folded in front of her. thereβs a gentle smile on her faceβ elegant, polished, practiced. βi insist. itβs late. and it was my fault, staying too long at the office party. you had to stay extra hours because of me.β
βbut missββ
βi wonβt take no for an answer, ms. ___.β the smile stays, but thereβs weight behind her voice. soft power. βyou know that, donβt you?β
your shoulders drop slightly, and you nod, looking down. βyes, maβam. thank you for your kindness.β
you bow your head once, polite, and finally step out into the quiet night, where jungkookβs car is already starting up in the driveway.
the car is quiet. smooth engine, soft instrumental playing low on the radio. jungkookβs hands on the steering wheel. yours, clutched around your bag.
you sit straight, posture polite, and youβre hyper aware of him beside you β heβs relaxed, driving one-handed, leaning slightly back into the leather seat like this is nothing. like youβre nothing. just another person heβs offering a ride home to.
but still, your heartβs going a little crazy.
he suddenly speaks, voice low. βi was going out to get a smoke, ms. ___.β
you blink, startled a little. he doesnβt look your way. just keeps driving.
βthatβs why my wife said i could drop you. youβre not troubling me or anything.β
you shake your head quickly, fumbling over your reply. βohβ okay. thank you. really. i was fine taking the bus, though.β
he hums, noncommittal. βstill. late night bus isnβt the safest.β
you nod, lips pressed together. you want to say thank you again, but you donβt want to sound like a broken record. the silence returns, but itβs not entirely uncomfortable. justβ¦ a little charged.
you donβt realize youβre staring at his hands until you are β long fingers wrapped around the wheel, thumb tapping softly to the beat of the radio. his wrist, the veins on his hand, the simple silver ring he wears.
wow.
you swallow.
and then, without warning, he pulls over. not suddenly, but gently, easing the car toward the curb and shifting into park.
βyou donβt mind if i get cigarettes, right?β he asks, glancing at you.
you shake your head. βnot at all mr. jeon. take your time.β
he nods and steps out.
as soon as the door shuts, you let out a long, shaky breath.
what the fuck.
youβre in jungkookβs car. youβre in his fucking car.
it literally smells like his cologne. and the air freshener clipped to the vents and maybe a little like coffee. your fingers twitch, and youβre not even sure where to look β the leather, the sleek touchscreen, the dash, the mirror with that tiny photo of his kids tucked into it. you feel like an outsider just breathing in here.
he returns a few minutes later, slipping back in with a small paper bag in hand.
βsorry,β he mutters, adjusting his seatbelt and pulling away from the curb.
you donβt respond immediately. just watch the road ahead.
βno problem at all.β
the rest of the drive is short.
when the car slows in front of your apartment block, you quickly gather your things.
βthank you for the ride, mr. jeonβ you say, already opening the door.
but then he gets out, too.
you freeze.
thisβ this is a small neighborhood. your apartment is in one of those plain buildings, paint chipped at the edges, a rusty bicycle chained to the stairwell. nothing glamorous.
you step out, feeling a little embarrassed as he looks around, taking in the area. and then he looks at your building.
βcute place,β he says.
you smile awkwardly, hugging your bag tighter. βo-oh. yeah. itβs, um, itβs fine i guess.β
he nods once, then meets your eyes again. βiβll see you soon, ___.β
you bow instinctively, eyes flicking down. βgoodnight mr. jeonβ
he turns, walks back to the car. the headlights blink once as he unlocks it.
you stand there for a second longer, heart thudding, as his words echo in your head.
βiβll see you soon, ___.β
he said your name without the βms.β in it.
just ___.
you step inside your apartment with legs that feel too light. your fingers still smell like his car. and you close the door behind you, quietly, slowly, like youβre afraid of breaking whatever spell that was.
yeah. that was⦠intense.
the sunβs dipping low by the time you step out of the campus gate, bag slung over your shoulder, your phone buzzing with a low battery warning. beside you, minjun sips the last of his vending machine coffee, yawning dramatically.
βso youβre finally free this week, huh?β he asks, grinning. βno more mansion babysitting?β
you nod, pulling your hair back with one hand. βyeah. the kids are leaving for their grandparents. i think theyβll be gone for two weeks.β
βmust be nice,β he laughs. βwish we got two weeks vacay too from this... hell-hole.β
βplease,β you scoff. βnever gonna happen.β
βrich people really live in another universe, huh.β he mutters, βby the way ___, if you ever disappear suddenly , iβll assume they adopted you into their fancy bloodline.β
youβre about to reply when your phone buzzes in your hand β
mr. jeon.
you blink.
minjun peeks at the screen. βis that him? your boss?β
βshhh,β you hiss, already answering.
βyes mr.jeon?β
jungkookβs voice is calm. βms. ___, are you free tonight?β
you glance at minjun, then ahead at the road. βuhβ yes, i am.β
βgood,β he says, and you swear you can hear the small smile in his voice.
your stomach does something weird.
βyou're sure, right?β he asks
βyes,β you say, too quickly. βiβm free. do you need me to come over?β
βyeah. come when you can.β
βi will,β you nod, even though he canβt see.
and you hang up.
minjunβs staring at you. βsoooβ¦ you are not supposed to be babysitting but he still wants you over?β
βdonβt start.β
βiβm just saying,β he raises his brows, βsounds suspicious.β
βbye minjun!!β
βtext me if you end up in a scandal!β
you roll your eyes and wave him off, heart thudding harder than it should.
the kids are leaving. you don't have to babysit. he didn't call you for work.. did he?
you donβt know yet.
but youβre already walking faster.
the house was quiet when you stepped in.
jungkook opened the door, one hand on the knob, the other lazily tucked in his pocket. his expression was unreadable, as always, but his tone was polite. βhey. come in.β
you stepped in carefully, slipping your shoes off by the door. βthank you,β you said, eyes naturally glancing down the hallway, expecting to hear the kids, or at least see ms. xinyi pacing around on a phone call. but the space wasβ¦ still.
βtheyβre not here,β jungkook said casually, as if reading your mind.
you blinked. βoh. they left already?β
he nodded, leading the way inside, you following behind slowly. βxinyi left this morning with the kids.β
you frowned slightly. βi thought they were leaving tomorrowβ¦β
βyeah, it was sudden. her mom insisted.β he didnβt sound annoyed, just tired. βxinyi canβt stay long though. she has work, meetings. sheβll be back soon. but she asked if you could help out before she returns.β
you nodded automatically, because of course. βwith what, exactly?β
βthe kidsβ stuff,β he said, glancing over his shoulder at you. βtheir mandarin folders, worksheets, the reading material. you know, that shelf you helped set up in their study room? xinyi wants it reorganized. she says itβs a mess.β
you smiled lightly. βit is a mess.β
βthought so,β he said, smirking a little. βyouβve got a few hours. i wonβt be in your way.β
you hummed in agreement, already walking in the direction of the kidsβ room.
βiβll get started.β
it takes longer than you expect. papers are everywhere. yohanβs doodled over half the sheets, yewonβs managed to mix english flashcards into the mandarin set, and the books arenβt even standing upright anymore.
you roll up your sleeves and get to work. at some point, you stop checking the time. thereβs something comforting about organizing their thingsβ folding tiny papers, writing neat labels. it feelsβ¦ peaceful. like youβre still around them.
and by the time you finish, the sky outside has turned navy blue and the hallway lights are dim.
you look around for jungkook. he hasnβt said anything since earlier. maybe he went out. maybe heβs in the study. but the house is too quiet. almost empty. he couldnβt have justβ¦ left.
you grab your bag and make your way downstairs, calling out softly, βmr. jeon?β
no reply.
you glance toward the kitchen. empty.
you pass by the sitting room. lights off.
you pause by the sliding doors that lead to the garden. thereβs a breezeβ¦ and something else. something soft. a sound you canβt quite name.
you step outside.
and there he is.
standing under the open sky, alone, his back to you. the garden lights glow faintly along the grass. his dark hair moves with the wind. one hand is in his pocket, the other holds a slim cigar, glowing orange at the tip.
you donβt mean to stare.
but he looksβ¦ cinematic. loose black shirt. sleeves rolled. the way he stands so still, like the air doesnβt touch him. like heβs thinking about a thousand things youβll never understand.
you clear your throat.
he turns slightly, glancing at you with no real surprise. βdone already?β
you nod. βyeah. i didnβt want to leave without letting you know.β
he takes a slow drag, the smoke curling around his fingers before rising into the dark. βgood timing.β
you hesitate, then walk a little closer. βwhy didnβt you go, mr. jeon? with them.β
his eyes stay on the sky for a second, then drop to the ground. βxinyiβs parents donβt like me much.β
that surprises you.
you blink. βwhy?β
he gives a quiet laugh, but it doesnβt sound amused. βthey think iβm not enough. that iβmβ¦ not what they pictured for her.β
you look down. βbut youβreββ
βrich?β he cuts in softly. βdoesnβt mean iβm enough.β
you donβt know what to say to that.
he continues, flicking ash to the side. βi run too many things. iβm constantly flying in and out. the companyβs in a complicated place right now. mergers. new investors. pressure.β
you stay quiet. listening.
just listening.
he looks over at you finally, the garden light catching his features. βitβs exhausting.β
your chest aches a little. he looks like someone who hasnβt slept right in days. you wonder if anyone ever asks him how he feels. if anyone even cares.
βsorry,β you say, softly.
he shrugs. βyou didnβt do anything.β
you nod, then look away, eyes tracing the garden floor.
βhow about you? college okay?β
you blink. βme?β
βyeah. you.β
you laugh nervously. βuhmβ¦ yeah. college is fine. tiring. the usual. rentβs going up though, itβsβ¦ whatever.β you roll your eyes a little and then you realise, maybe you shouldn't be telling him this stuff, so you quickly apologise, βsorry i didn't mean to say that.β
he watches you for a moment. βdonβt be.β then nods. βyouβre working hard. college. babysitting kids. youβre doing good.β
you grin a little. βyeah, i guess.β
he lets out a quiet hum, then turns back to the sky.
you both fall silent. the kind of silence that doesnβt feel awkward at all. you tilt your head back too, following his gaze.
it is a beautiful night.
he takes a longer drag this time, eyes falling shut as the smoke leaves his lips in slow swirls. his jaw tenses slightly, neck lines sharp against the collar of his shirt.
you look away quickly.
your heartβs doing something stupid.
you should go.
butβ¦ you donβt.
you stay.
you donβt say anything. donβt even shift your weight. you just keep standing there under the soft garden lights, with your bag still in your hand and your heart beating loud in your ears. and as the seconds stretch on, when he realizes youβre still there; still watching him, he doesnβt look surprised.
you donβt see it. not really.
but he smiles. just a little.
and then he speaks.
βyou smoke?β
his voice is low. smooth, like usual.
your eyes widen a little. βme? no. not really. i meanβ¦ no. itβs not good for you.β
he raises a brow, amused. βmm. itβs not.β
you shift on your feet. βitβs addictive. and bad for your lungs. like. obviously.β
he hums, eyes still on you. βwanna try?β
you blink. βpardon?β
he flicks ash off the end, lets it fall with a soft hiss onto the wet grass. βjust once. it's not like you will get addicted off one puff.β
you hesitate. heart tripping over itself.
because you know this is stupid. obviously. youβve said the words yourselfβ bad for you, dangerous, addictive.
but your thoughts are running too fast and none of them make sense. your limbs feel slow and heavy like youβre melting under the weight of his attention.
you shouldnβt.
you really shouldnβt.
but heβs looking at you with that.. amused little glint in his eye, and his shirtβs a little wrinkled, and his fingers look really good around the cigarette. and youβre tired of always being the one who makes the right choice.
whatβs so bad about one?
he watches you, smoke curling past his lips again, quiet for a moment. βitβs okay if you donβt want to.β
βsure,β you say quickly, cutting him off. βiβll try it.β
his eyebrows lift, surprised. βyou sure?β
you nod, too fast. βmhm.β
he smirks, a slow little curve of his lips. βthought it wasnβt healthy?β
you roll your eyes. βjust one puff.β
he laughs quietly, drops the stub of his cigarette to the ground and presses the toe of his shoe against it. then he slips a hand into his pocket, pulls out a slim case, taps out a new one and holds it between two fingers like itβs nothing. like itβs casual.
βhere,β he murmurs, handing it to you.
you take it.
your fingers brush his when you do.
you almost gasp but you don't , thankfully.
your fingers close around the cigarette he holds out, but just before you bring it to your lips, you drop your bag to the side with a soft thud on the grass.
you place the cigarette between your lips awkwardly at first, but you pretend to be cool about this. you keep your eyes on him the whole time. never looking away, and he doesnβt either. his gaze holds you in place.
he brings the lighter to the tip, flicks it open. the soft click sounds loud in the quiet.
then, his voice.
low. rough. lazy. βbreathe in slow. not too deep. let it sit for a second. then let it go.β
you nod, and your fingers tremble just slightly as you try.
he lights it.
the flame glows bright, just for a second. burns orange, then settles into a steady red glow at the tip. and his eyes never leave yours.
you inhale like he said. it stingsβ more than you expected. burns your throat, makes your chest tighten, but you try to hold it.
you let it sit. then exhale.
it leaves your mouth in a shaky stream.
you cough a little, just once, and his eyes darken.
βthatβs it,β he says, voice smooth like velvet. βyou can do it. that's it. good girl.β
your stomach flips.
and then you try again. slower this time. his gaze never leaving your mouth.
βjust like that,β he murmurs. βsee? not so bad.β
you exhale again, and this time it doesnβt burn as much. it still makes your head spin. but not in a bad way.
you glance up at him, your voice softer now. βi kinda like it.β
he hums. βyeah?β
βyeah. i mean. i donβt know if thatβsβ¦ right.β
he chuckles, steps a little closer, his voice brushing your skin. βdoesnβt have to be right to feel good.β
your breath catches.
his eyes trail from your lips to your throat, very slowly. you take another drag, just to have something to do, but heβs watching you like heβs thinking about a dozen other things heβd rather have in your mouth.
your fingers shake a little again, but you donβt drop it.
heβs too close now. too warm.
you feel it in your stomach. between your thighs. every-fucking-where.
and when he takes the cigarette from you and presses it between his own lips for a second, eyes locked with yours the whole timeβ you swear you forget how to breathe.
youβre so fucking gone at this point.
you canβt stop looking at him.
the way his lips wrap around the same cigarette youβd just held between yours. the way his jaw flexes. the way his throat moves when he exhales; smoke curling out of his mouth like it was made to escape him that way.
you donβt even realize youβre staring.
not until his eyes drag back to yoursβ sharp and dark, the kind that doesnβt ask questions. the kind that already knows the answer.
βfuck,β he mutters under his breath, barely loud enough to hear.
and then his hand is behind your neck.
you donβt even have time to blink. to breathe.
to think.
his lips crash against yours, rough and sudden and so fucking real. your whole body locks up in shock before melting into the heat of it. itβs messy. desperate. everything at once. he kisses like heβs starved, like heβs wanted to do this for longer than heβll ever admit.
youβre not supposed to do this.
heβs not supposed to do this.
but your lips part for him anyway.
and he kisses you deeper.
his other hand joins the first, palms warm behind your neck, holding you in place like heβs afraid youβll slip away. the still-burning cigarette drops from between his fingers and he steps on it, crushing it into the grass without ever pulling away.
your fingers twitch at your sides. you donβt know where to put them.
you just⦠stand there. letting him kiss you like that. letting yourself kiss him back.
it feels like a dream.
it feels too good.
your lips donβt stop moving against his. they canβt.
youβre already too far goneβ breathing him in like heβs the first drop of water after a dry, godless drought. your hands are clutching the front of his shirt, dragging him down, keeping him close, greedy like youβve been starving.
then suddenly, your breath catches.
you pull back.
βmr. jeonββ your voice is shaky, lips swollen. βshit.. iβ we.. we shouldnβt... this is wrong.β
his hand cups your jaw, warm and grounding. but thereβs something wild in his eyes. his voice comes out low, wrecked. βthen tell me to stop.β
you stare at him. the garden lights behind his silhouette, the echo of your kiss still on your mouth.
you should tell him to stop.
you donβt.
instead, your fingers find his collar and tug again, hard this time.
fuck.
βjust take me inside.β
.
.
.
.
.
.
βyouβre so quiet,β he murmurs.
his voice cuts through the silence like a warm knife. his palm is on your head, fingers slow as they run through your hair, caressing in soft circles against your scalp. your cheek rests on his bare chest, his skin warm beneath you, rising and falling gently with every breath he takes. your hand is near his neck, thumb brushing the skin there, slow and absent-minded.
the room is still. faint moonlight slips through the sheer curtains, casting soft shadows across the floor. the sheets are pulled over the both of you, tangled between legs, your bodies tucked close under them β in his bed.
the one he shares with his wife.
you don't reply at first. you're thinking. youβre here, lying on a mattress you shouldnβt be on, next to a man you shouldn't be touching. and yet, your heart feels full. your bodyβs warm. you feelβ¦ good. and thatβs what scares you.
he doesnβt say anything again, just keeps stroking your hair, so softly it makes your eyes flutter.
you were quiet, yeah. but only because thereβs so much going on in your head. so much you tried to ignore earlier β the guilt, the reality of what you were doing, the wrongness of it all. youβd been quiet because you were trying to forget it. to focus only on him.
you stare off across the room, eyes fixed on a dark corner. not looking at anything in particular. just grounding yourself. and then your voice breaks the quiet.
βi can be loud.β
he pauses. then laughs a little, and you feel his chest rise under your cheek. βreally?β
you hum again. βmhm.β
the next second comes as a surprise β his hand gripping your hair suddenly, fingers threading through the strands and tugging just enough to make you gasp. your headβs pulled up, gently but firm, so youβre looking right at him.
his eyes are darker now. and oh you fucking love it.
you love how easily he shifts from soft to rough. how he looks at you like he owns you. how your stomach flips at just the change in his tone. the power in it.
your lips part slightly, a soft moan escaping before you can hold it back. you donβt even blink. you just look at him. your eyes hazy.
he bites his bottom lip, dragging it between his teeth, eyes flickering over your expression. βwhat? you like this?β
you hum again. itβs all you can manage.
his grip tightens, just enough to make you whimper. not painful. but enough to remind you who's in control. his voice is lower this time. firmer. βuse your words, doll.β
your heart races. you want to kiss him so badly your lips practically itch.
but you speak first.
βi love it, mr. jeonβ
he exhales sharply through his nose, almost a scoff, but amused. definitely turned on.
βyeah?β he murmurs, already leaning in.
you nod. and his grip loosens. his hand trails down, cupping your jaw instead as he leans forward, lips brushing against yours.
and then he kisses you.
soft. slow.
his mouth moves over yours with the kind of ease that makes you feel dizzy, like youβve kissed him a hundred times before. you sigh into it, pressing closer, lips parting slightly as his hand slides to the back of your neck, holding you in place. you moan just a little, not even meaning to; it just slips out, the warmth of his mouth too good to resist.
his tongue doesnβt push in right away. he just kisses you. sweet and languid, like he has all the time in the world. like this moment is meant to stretch on forever.
and when you pull away, your palm flattens against his chest. you feel his heart is beating hard beneath it. just like yours.
you donβt look at him right away. your eyes are on the curve of his shoulder. your voice is soft when you ask,
βdoes this mean we can never see each other again?β
he looks at you.
then he says, βno.β almost too casually, like you didnβt just ask something loaded. βwhy do you think that?β
you blink, eyebrows raising slightly. your palmβs still on his chest, but your fingers curl a little, pressing into his skin. βi meanβ¦ we just fucked,β you say, half-laughing under your breath, even though your voice is tight. βisnβt that, like, a major babysitter deal-breaker?β
he snorts. actually snorts. and you almost want to smack his arm.
βjust act like we didnβt fuck,β he says, like itβs simple. like you didnβt just sleep with a man who is married and has kids you take care of.
is he being for real right now?
βwe donβt see each other much anyway. iβm always at work, remember? barely have time to breathe.β
you raise an eyebrow. βbut you had time today.β
he shrugs, shifting a little beneath you, head sinking further into the pillow. βi finished a bunch of stuff early. got lucky.β
you try not to think about how itβs you he got lucky with.
your fingers stop moving against his skin, and for a second, you just stare at him. he looks so relaxed. one arm tucked behind his head, the other resting lightly on your side now.
and then you ask, softly, βwhat about ms. xinyi?β
he blinks, like he forgot she existed for a moment, and then he sighs.
βwhat about her?β
βwhat if she suspects something?β your voice is quiet. a little strained. because the weight of reality is creeping back in, and you donβt know how to carry it.
he sighs again. not annoyed β more like, he expected this.
his hand lifts to cup your jaw, thumb brushing the corner of your lips. βdonβt give her a reason to.β
you look at him, wide-eyed.
βjust be you,β he says simply, like thatβs all it takes. like you can just forget the way he kissed you like you belonged to him. like you werenβt crossing a thousand lines just by lying in this bed, with him.
your chest tightens.
you nod, but inside, panic floods you like a wave.
what if you mess up?
what if she sees it in your eyes?
he notices the shift in your expression and before you can spiral further, he pulls you back in.
his lips find yours again, slow and deep, and you melt into him just like that. your hand slides up to his shoulder, and your body leans in because heβs the only thing that makes sense right now.
when he pulls back, his breath brushes your lips.
βi need you to know this , doll,β he murmurs, eyes locked on yours,
βyouβre mine.β















