Enhypen Series - 'her'

Paco Rabanne - Spring 1997 RTW

UPDATE!!!!!! they are dating 😋😋 and she blocked me yup!!!!!

told my best friend i had a crush on this guy now they (my best friend and the guy) are acting like a couple 😍😍

resignation (4)

SUMMARY: For the last six years, you’ve dedicated your career to ensuring Park Sunghoon never misses a day of work in his life. But you’re tired of endless days that seem to blend together, and seeing him living his fun, luxurious lifestyle makes you think about what else you might be missing out on. When Sunghoon finds your resignation letter on his desk, he does everything in his power to convince you to stay.

NOTES: please do not ask me about chapter updates.

WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER: kissing & dry humping.

SERIES PLAYLIST + SERIES MASTERLIST

please leave a comment/reblog and let me know what you think!

***

What does it mean when you have a wet dream about your boss? 

Surely this happens to everybody. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about because the other party involved has no idea what transpired. This feeling is like accidentally calling your teacher “Mom” or “Dad,” only a thousand times worse. 

You don’t remember much, only fragments and jump cuts that make you question if what you dreamt was real at all. But you remember what his naked chest and torso looked like and the way your hands roamed the expanse of his skin as you sat on top of him. You remember the way his legs parted to situate your body on his thighs, and you remember the way he looked when he was tugging on his dick to finish all over your body. 

It was enough to wake you with a startle. 

It’s just before 5AM and nothing you do can put you back to sleep. Your heart is beating erratically, and your mind races from scenario to scenario. Revisiting the remnants of your dream makes you flustered and you feel guilty. Surely it’s normal to think about your boss like that, right? 

There’s not much that Sunghoon isn’t perfect at. He can be a bit impatient and particular, but he’s the epitome of everybody’s dream. He’s so sure of himself all of the time and knows what he wants. Most importantly, Sunghoon is not afraid of pursuing his goals until the very end. 

It’s unfortunate that passionate, secure men are exactly your type. You don’t play games; you’re too old for that. This will-they-won’t-they is a thing of the past and a scenario you would’ve loved to experience back when you were seventeen. In adulthood, you appreciate men who respect your independence and find it attractive, even. 

Hearing Sunghoon tell his colleagues he knows to trust you because of how you need little help does more damage than good. Sunghoon’s praise is not the basis of your career, but it’s an added bonus when it all comes down to it. 

He’s everything you could ever want in a guy, but you can’t do anything about it. You haven’t been able to think about how attractive you found him to be upon the first day of meeting him because Sunghoon is your boss. He’s the one who delegates your work and at the end of the day, it would be unprofessional. 

It doesn’t stop you from having wet dreams about him, apparently. 

Getting yourself to leave your apartment is much harder than it usually is. You refuse to get in your car for a while and try to stall yourself until the inevitable anxiety about being late to work pushes you to get in it. Music doesn’t help quell your mind on the drive either. It all sounds like static noise to you with how loud and vibrational the wet dream is. Pulling up to the parking garage and your designated spot feels like a challenge. Stepping into the lobby and riding the elevator up to your floor feels damn near suffocating. 

It’s just your luck that Sunghoon happened to show up earlier than you did for once, truly. You like to be prepared and have a daily agenda to go over with him, but you need your peace and quiet to gather all your thoughts and priorities before beginning the workday. 

He stands with his back facing you. Sunghoon’s broad shoulders are covered by a black button down with sleeves rolled up to just below his elbow. Your breath hitches and you don’t think you can handle seeing him if he turns around, especially when you know he could probably see how you’re out of it today. 

You take a few deep breaths before your heels click against the hardwood floor, alerting Sunghoon of your presence. He turns around when he hears you and you try not to trip and fall. Damn his good looks so early in the morning. Damn him for not needing any makeup while you caked your under eyes with concealer. Screw him for looking so attractive when you’re trying to think of him as anything but. 

“Morning.”

“You’re here early.” 

Sunghoon smiles. “I know. I woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep, so I figured I’d come to the office early.” 

Did he have a wet dream about you too?

The thought disappears as soon as you think it because that seems both ludicrous and egotistical. Sunghoon doesn’t think of you like that. He sees you as his personal assistant and nothing more. 

Why does that feeling disappoint you? 

You’re desperately trying to keep a calm demeanor as you walk closer towards him. You try your hardest to push the dream away from your mind as the two of you look at each other, and instead take a seat by your desk. He follows behind you and lingers by the front of it as you take out your legal pad to write today’s agenda. The weight of his eyes are heavy.

“No meetings until 11AM when the Choi’s come for an informational meeting with the Decelis company for lunch at the InterContinental, and begin discussing the steps until I resign for good.”

“You have your shit down.” 

“It’s my job.”

“Do we really have to talk about the fact that you’re quitting?” 

You turn your chair to face him. “Yes. I’m leaving in a month and a half, there are a million projects I need to finish, and I need to make sure your new assistant has what it takes.”

“You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?” 

“I have. It’s my decision and I stand by it. But I really did enjoy my time at this company and I want to make sure you have somebody who can manage you.” 

“Manage me?” 

You smirk when he chokes. “Don’t act like you’re a saint, Sunghoon. You rely on me for nearly all of your business and I’ve learned more about this company’s inner workings than anybody else. My work is triple what other assistants do at this office, but it gets results.”

“I’m passionate about my job.” 

“So am I.” 

Sunghoon leans over your desk and puts both palms on the wood below him. He looks at you and bends down until he’s significantly closer to your face. Even with the clear distance between the both of you, your cheeks feel like they’re heating up. Suddenly, your dreams from the night before reappear in your vision. You start imagining what Sunghoon would look like without his shirt on at this very angle. 

“You’re the best at what you do. You’re smart, intuitive, and you’re not afraid to argue with me and hurt pride. I’ve never had a business partner who’s been as sharp as you.” 

You’re nearly stunned into silence. Sunghoon’s plush lips look inviting and his piercing stare makes you feel all kinds of things an assistant shouldn’t be feeling about her boss. His words still register and float around your head.

“Business partner is a stretch.” 

“You make ideas and execute them. That’s more than what a personal assistant would do. It’s commendable how much you’ve learned about this company over the years.”

“The best I can do is help you find a worthy assistant. 

“I suppose.” 

Sunghoon doesn’t say anything after that. Instead, he turns away without looking at you and retreats into his office. 

***

What makes a good assistant? 

So far, your list consists of:

Sense of urgency.

Able to meet deadlines.

Pays close attention to fine details and can multitask. 

Able to operate basic functions like Google and Microsoft Suite. 

Willing to work overtime, including nights and weekends. 

Manage calendars and be the bridge between employer and client.

Fulfill and execute holiday gifting for clients and partners. 

Create and maintain lists when needed. 

Of course, those are just the basic managerial tasks you do on a day to day basis. If you could be honest about what this job entails, the list would look something like:

Have a strong sense of urgency. 

Cannot be afraid to speak to strangers and build repertoire. 

Knows how to read a room and make judgment based on intuition. 

Knows how to speak multiple languages, even if merely conversational. 

Is an early bird and a night owl. 

Won’t be scared by how little time off is able to be taken.

Won’t be upset when needed to work very early hours and late evenings. 

Will not complain about accompanying the employer to personal matters. 

Knows how to be confident in a room full of people.

Doesn’t tolerate bullshit. 

Writing this job listing feels impossible at this point. It’s too long, too broad, and too complicated. You delete the entire draft and stare at the blank page as if to hope the listing to write itself. You’re trying to pass the time because your meeting with Sunghoon to discuss the next steps before you leave makes you feel like you’ll go insane.

But most of your projects are waiting on other people now. It’s a blessing and a curse to be one step ahead of everybody else. You’ve done all you could to follow up and distract yourself with your duties, but you can’t do anything until other people present their parts. 

Writing this job listing is something you’ve been putting off for the past week. It seems too hard to truly encapsulate what this job entails. It’s been bittersweet to walk down memory lane and think about all of the strengths you’ve learned over your time with Sunghoon. You want to do right by him and pick somebody that’s worthy of this position. You’ve spent so much of your career dedicated to him and the last thing you want is to undo all of the work you’ve done. 

Time doesn’t seem to be moving any faster and the thought of being alone with him after his obligations makes you feel uneasy. He lets you work in peace while he does his job. It’s not until an hour before his meeting do you see Sunghoon. It was hard to remain a stoic professional with a client when all you can think about is having sex with him on the large oakwood table your arms are resting on. When Sunghoon leaves for his lunch meeting, you picture his face buried deep in your cunt below your own desk. 

The way you think of your boss is unbecoming. There is a clear, set boundary you need to respect and maintain. But being near him makes things harder for you. 

If you were a better person, you’d quit while you’re ahead and stick to yourself until you were free from this company. It’s hard to work alongside somebody you’re physically attracted to. You see him walking around in his suits, so impeccably dressed that you’re not surprised at just how many people seek him out. He’s on magazine covers and rubs elbows with Korea’s rich and famous. Sunghoon’s circle resembles that of people who don’t need to think twice about spending money because they know it’ll never run out. The fact that he’s handsome, smart, and wealthy isn’t lost on you. In fact, it makes things that much worse. 

You’re not any of that. You don’t come from obscene wealth, nor do you have the friends and connections that Sunghoon does. You live in his world only as an adjacent, and then you go back to your apartment and order Chinese takeout while trying to feel like a regular human being. The imposter syndrome is what keeps you up at night. You’re afforded luxurious ways to travel, fine dining and drinks, and free clothes from time to time, but all of it is in the name of Sunghoon. He’s the one with the power to grant you these opulent wishes. You’re here because of him and who he is within society, not because it thinks you deserve to be here. 

It aches you to think that the next person to have your job will likely come to this startling truth like you did. Coming home to a small, studio apartment after an all expenses paid business trip to Berlin was a cold splash of water to the face. You are nothing without the company you work for. Somewhere along the line, you started to resent this lifestyle. It has consumed your life in ways you never thought imaginable. The late nights, days away from your bed, and the constant urge to prove yourself worthy is never ending. Even now, when most of Sunghoon’s colleagues and acquaintances know your name, people think of you as a mere servant.

The task then becomes how you can convey this through the job listing without making it sound like this job is miserable. It can be, but hinting at that is neither professional nor is it realistic. You need to find a worthy successor before you effectively leave. You can’t leave Sunghoon hanging without trying your best. He’s been good to you throughout the years, and the least you can do is make sure his next assistant doesn't make him resent having one. 

When Sunghoon is back from his lunch meeting, you’re calmer than you were at the beginning of the day. Knowing he’s been out of your sight has been good to quell your nerves. So has eating lunch. Instead of joining other assistants at the cafeteria, you’ve elected to pack yourself a lunch and enjoy the confines of your office until it’s time for you to go back to work. That hour is spent distracting yourself through Instagram, where an endless scroll of videos provides more entertainment than work does. 

It’s nearly four in the afternoon when Sunghoon comes back from his lunch meeting. He comes back looking triumphant and stops by your office after putting his suit jacket away in his office closet, knocking once before opening the door. 

“I take it the meeting went well?” you ask, not bothering to look up from your monitor as you type an email. 

“Swimmingly. Decelis has agreed to our terms and I had a very wonderful filet mignon as well.”

“BigHit called and requested a formal introduction. You have availability next Wednesday at 8AM and the following Tuesday at 10AM.”

“Let’s do Tuesday. Nobody likes an 8AM meeting.” 

“Got it.” 

Sunghoon steps inside and closes the door behind you when he hears the sound of an email being sent. You blink away the strain in your eyes from looking at a screen for too long and see him sitting on the chair in front of your desk. 

“It’s important we talk about what’s gonna happen for the next month and a half before you go, huh?” 

You sigh. “It is, Sunghoon. My time here has been good to me. I don’t want to leave you with somebody incompetent.”

“I feel touched that you’d extend your time here by two months to look for a new assistant.”

“You should. I’m trying to fill out a job listing before I post it. That’s been stalling me from figuring out what else I need to do. I figure I’ll tackle that and see what projects I can distribute until your new assistant gets the hang of things.” 

“What about the tasks you’re working on now?”

“Handled. I’m waiting for responses.”

“I’m gonna miss how hard you work,” he tells you. “It’ll be weird not seeing you everyday.” 

“You’ll get used to it. First up on the agenda: job requirements. I have a few basics–using software, meeting deadlines, accompanying you on business trips–what else is there that I can add?” 

Sunghoon looks over the list you’ve created. “Owning a passport and the willingness to travel is a must. But I’ll handle business when I need to travel by myself until I can fully trust my assistant.” 

You write it down. “Good idea. I think the first time I traveled with you was to Tokyo six months in. Pretty early to trust me, if I say so myself.” 

“Yeah, well, you proved to be a trustworthy person.”

“How so?”

Sunghoon shrugs. “I don’t know. You always seemed like you were keen on putting your head down and doing your job. Somewhere in the mix, I guess you started learning my habits and picked up on things quicker than other assistants I’ve had. I knew I could trust you when you had the briefings prepared when we met with Hybe.”

“Hybe?”

“You know, the independent record label we helped fund and is now considered one of the biggest music corporations in Asia?” 

“I know who they are,” you retort. Sunghoon just smiles. “But I don’t remember that at all.”

“You came into my office the day before the meeting and gave me an entire binder’s worth of prep I never asked you to do. Information on the company, the CEO and founder, artist growth potential, the whole nine yards. I’d never had a thorough assistant at that time. You walked into my office and apologized if you were overstepping before you left me with that behemoth of a binder. It was impeccable and it’s what helped solidify my decision to work with them. And now, Hybe is a major record label with business in America.” 

“Oh…I never knew that.”

“I tried to keep it on the down low so it didn’t get to your head. I was just getting to know you, and didn’t want to take the chance of your ego blowing out of proportion.”

You scowl. “It wouldn’t have.”

“I know that now. But at that time, we were still getting used to the swing of things. That let me know you were loyal to me and had my back. I knew I could trust you with the everyday administrative work, and I knew I could trust you to form a good, solid opinion when it came to this business. It’s why I decided to take you abroad for international business and to handle things back in Korea.” 

Sunghoon’s words make you dizzy. It’s as if a warmth has bloomed in your chest from all of the positive things he’s saying about you. You’ve tried your best to keep yourself humble when it comes to your career for the fear of crossing a boundary you shouldn’t have. You don’t have the power Sunghoon does, nor do you have the capital to back yourself up. The wins, both big and small, are celebrated by yourself before you move onto the next project. 

Everything he’s telling you makes you wonder if you never truly appreciated the things you’ve accomplished just because you were insecure about your role in the company. You’re an extension of Sunghoon, not his equal. Even when you’d assist him in decision making or give your input that ultimately influenced his opinions, it never felt like something worth celebrating. Not unless he’d give you a verbal praise.

The stories he’s telling you about his time working with you makes you look at your job differently. For as competent as you are, you’ve got tunnel vision. Work is work and there’s nothing more to it. You’ve always believed that the essence of your accomplishments lie with Sunghoon, but now you’re starting to wonder about all of the things he’s noticed about you without having vocalized them. The wake of your departure seems to have stirred up emotions within Sunghoon, but you’re having a hard time trying to figure out what they are. 

“I don’t know what to say, Sunghoon. Thanks, I think.”

“What I’m trying to say is, you’re really good at your job. I know it’s stressful trying to find a replacement, but I want to make sure they can reach your level with time. There won’t be anybody who can do what you do.” 

Your face heats up and you go back to brainstorming. 

“I’ve got a general idea for the listing now and I’ll type the copy for your approval by the end of the week. Let’s move on to our clients, shall we?”

When the clock hand tells you it’s six o’clock, Sunghoon asks if you have anywhere to be tonight. When you tell him no, he asks that you stay at the office longer with the promise of ordering takeout to be shared between the two of you. You decide to stay, even if it means you have to work, because you’d never turn down a free meal from him. It’s the only time you allow yourself to splurge on food and Sunghoon prefers to eat at high end restaurants anyway. 

You settle on dim sum. Sunghoon orders just enough for the both of you and it sits across the desk in the main meeting office with Thai tea in to-go cups. He’s loosened his tie and doesn’t bother with appearances now that most of his colleagues have left for the day. You don’t see this carefree side of him often, as he likes to dress to impress. Sunghoon believes impressions are everything in the business of venture capitalism. He doesn't want anybody to get the wrong idea about him because he knows assumptions run far and wild, and he’d rather have people say favorable things about him than not. 

You’ve done a good job at forgetting the dream you had by using work and food as a distraction. But the second Sunghoon loosened his tie and untucked his button down made your mind briefly flash to the dirty things that transpired in your mind. You will yourself to push those thoughts to the back of your head for the umpteenth time. 

“Humor me,” Sunghoon says to break the silence as he looks up from his pile of documents. “You told me you don’t have a personal life and that’s why you want to quit.”

“I didn’t say it like that.” 

“Could’ve fooled me. Weren’t you the one who said you don’t have time for yourself?” 

Curse him. 

“Yeah, I did.” He drops the document on the table and puts the straw of his Thai tea in his mouth, letting it dangle carelessly. 

“You surely have things and people when you’re not at the office. I don’t make you work here like you’re chained to the building.” 

“True,” you tell him as you turn to face him. “That doesn’t mean I have my shit figured out, though.”

“Who does?” 

“People like you don’t have to think about your future.” 

He nods. “Okay, I guess you’re right. I know we don’t come from the same backgrounds, but that doesn’t mean your life isn’t rich without money.” 

“It’s not that I don’t have anything, but lately, it’s felt like nothing sticks around long enough for me to make it part of my life. My hobbies are short-lived. My family lives far away. I don’t have many friends.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“What? Not having hobbies.”

“Not having friends.” 

“It’s true.”

“What do you mean by that?”

You push a dumpling in your mouth and speak between bites. “I didn’t have many friends before moving to Seoul. Everyone I knew from university moved after graduating except my roommate during my last year. She’s the only person who I’d consider my friend.”

“What about your neighbor, Nabi? The one who watches your cat when you’re with me?” 

“Is that friendship if I’m asking her for favors?” 

“Kinda. You trust her to watch over Pochi and you told me you’re both getting to know each other a little. I’d count that as friends.” 

“Okay, I have two friends. I don’t have an entire network of people I see. I never had many friends growing up because I was too focused on getting out of my hometown and making it in Seoul. Well, I did that, but it feels like I’m paying the price.” 

“I don’t think you have to worry about not being likable.” 

“That’s not the issue, though. I just…I don’t have time to make connections because this job takes up so much of my day. When people invite me out, I have to decline half the time or I come at the tail end of the night because I’m working late. All of that adds up. I’ve only known this job and trying to be the best that I can possibly be that I’ve forgotten how to have fun. I don’t know anything other than this job.”

He looks away from you for a moment before returning back to your gaze. 

“I’m sorry I contributed to that.” 

“It’s not your fault. It comes with the job and I knew what I signed up for. You’ve been a lenient boss compared to other people at this company, and that says a lot.”

“I demand a lot from you, don’t I?” 

“Will I be in trouble if I agree?”

He smirks. “Maybe.” 

“Then my lips are sealed.” 

Sunghoon laughs. “I can relate to this job being a lifeline. It’s what I’ve wanted for so long, did you know that? I watched my dad do this work when I grew up and I always had a knack for negotiating. It was my calling and I did everything I could to work my way up from the bottom, even though I knew he’d make me a partner whenever I asked. Sometimes I wonder if I’m too invested in this business. My parents keep asking me when I’ll settle down, and I never have an answer.”

“Will you?”

He looks directly at you. “We’ll see about that. For now, I don’t think about it too much. I like my life and it’s too busy to care about those kinds of things anyhow. If the opportunity doesn’t present itself, I won’t force one to appear.” 

“I’m the same way, I think. I don’t really talk to my parents all that much, but when I do, they’re always asking about when I’ll get a husband. It’s never about my job and my life. It’s always about whether or not their only daughter will grow to be a spinstress.” 

“Surely you’ve been on a few dates since moving to Seoul, no? I would’ve figured you found somebody by now.” 

You ignore his comment for your sanity. “I’ve been on a few, yeah. All of them went nowhere. I’m not the type of person who goes on multiple first dates, though. That kind of stuff doesn’t happen for me naturally.”

“Don’t you use dating apps?”

You laugh humorlessly. “I tried for the first year. Had people swipe right and talked a little, but nothing ever transpired from that. I wondered if I was that awful to talk to or if people who used dating apps were shallow. I deleted them one night and never redownloaded them again.” 

“Dating apps are a scam anyway. Jaeyun uses them from time to time and runs into that same issue. Ever the romantic at heart, even though he won’t admit it.” 

“I want to meet someone naturally and get to know them before I decide anything.” You look at Sunghoon. “Sorry, was that too personal? We’re still at the office.” 

“Nah. Don’t worry about that. I was the one who asked. So you’re the type of person who believes in fate.” 

“Kind of? I don’t know if I’d put it like that, but I’m like you. I don’t want to force things if it’s clearly not going to work out. I’d rather save my time and breath instead of wasting it.” 

“I think that’s admirable.”

“It’s slow and miserable, is what it is.” 

Sunghoon throws his head back and laughs. “Slow and steady wins the race, doesn’t it? 

“It’s taking its sweet ass time.” 

“Don’t tell me you’re the type to date to marry.” 

“Absolutely not!” 

“Just making sure.” 

“I want to like the person I date and not go out with a bunch of guys to see who sticks. That seems unproductive. I want a guy to take me seriously and not look at me like I’m a sack of meat, for once. Someone who will put me first and not leave me unsatisfied.” 

The tips of your ears burn red when you finish your sentence. The implication of your words ring in your ears as you look at Sunghoon, but he looks at you like nothing you said was out of the ordinary. If he’s picked up on what you mean, he doesn’t tell you that he does. 

“Love is a hard thing to find. I don’t know what I’d do if I had it.” 

“Me either. Quitting this job isn’t about finding a boyfriend, per se, but it’s part of it. I want to have enough time to do whatever the hell I want, and that includes dating.” 

Sunghoon doesn’t say anything for a minute. He looks at you like he’s trying to decipher something, and you’re having a hard time keeping still under his watchful gaze. But he turns his attention to the empty takeout cartons and the empty Thai tea cups, putting them back into the plastic bag before tossing them into the trash can. You watch as he compiles the documents back into its holding place before he looks at you. 

“We’ve spent a lot of time talking but we haven’t moved an inch with these projects. Are you up for coming back to my house and working for an hour or two? I can’t think in this damn office anymore and I want a glass of bourbon.” 

“I don’t know. I need to feed Pochi. I also drove to work today.”

“Tell your neighbor to do it. I’ll drive you to the office tomorrow morning.” 

When Sunghoon pulls into the driveway of his ginormous penthouse, you tell yourself the latest you’ll stay is ten o’clock. It’s half past eight and you’re not the least bit tired, which concerns you. Your neighbor has agreed to watch Pochi and knows where you keep your spare key in order to take her back to her apartment. Once she’s sent you a picture of Pochi eating from her bowl, you allow yourself to relax. 

His garage hides behind a served driveway that makes you feel like you’re at the entrance of a luxurious hotel. The garage itself looks like it could store five cars and Sunghoon’s Supra sits right next to the BMW he drives when he goes to work. The Supra is a convertible and what he likes to call his “weekend car.” It’s the vehicle he uses when he’s not working. It’s the one he used to pick you up when the two of you went to dinner. 

The foyer is as grand as you remember it. His interior is minimalistic with elements of nature scattered across the house in the form of decor. Photographs of sea and forests, sculptures, and delicate souvenirs decorate the living area. You’ve never been able to tone down your amazement when you visit. Sunghoon is clean and meticulous. His home reflects that. 

Like the gentleman Sunghoon is, he offers you alcohol when he pours himself a glass of bourbon, but you elect for ice water if you want to make it through the night on these projects. You need to be laser focused because you run the risk of sleeping right on his marble counter and on top of the documents currently sprawled out against the large kitchen island. He provides a salty, crunchy snack because he knows you don’t have a sweet tooth like he does. You cave in eventually and eat a few chips. 

It’s all business talk for the next hour and a half. He jumps from topic to topic in order to make sure everything is accounted for and things that need attention get taken care of. Working with him feels like fighting with a partner in crime. You understand the way his brain works and you’re able to keep up with him when he’s talking at a million miles an hour. This is the kind of attitude he puts up when he’s networking, and you’ve learned over the years that seldom do people get the full, talkative Sunghoon unless he’s trying to get something out of them. With you, it’s a never ending cycle of conversations and opinions. You hear from him more than you don’t and he doesn’t shy away from talking your ear off. 

It does make you feel special sometimes. Sunghoon always indulges you and never puts your ideas and opinion on the backburner. You like that he’s able to carry a conversation and knows when to shut up (for the most part). He gives you the same level of enthusiasm back and respects your space when you come into the office without your mood to socialize. Those days are for getting work done only, and you’ve come to appreciate Sunghoon’s ability to know when you aren’t feeling like yourself. 

It comes with working together for six years, naturally. Seeing each other more frequently than friends and family creates some kind of mutual understanding. You’d like to think it’s a great working relationship so far. Sunghoon starts with the big ideas and you fill in the details. He’s able to pull innovation out of you and you’re able to reel him in and think about logic. It’s like a perfectly oiled machine with no hiccups. It’s been like this since you can remember and you’ll miss it when you leave. 

Eventually, ten o’clock comes and your eyes grow tired of blinking. Sunghoon feels the same, as his tie is far too loose around his neck and his hair is sticking all over the place from him running his hand through it. You’re no better, either. Your hair is down from its updo and your makeup is smudging to the point of no return. 

You’re about to pack up and leave when Sunghoon stops you. 

“Stay the night.” 

“What?” 

“I’m too tired to drive you right now.” Sunghoon yawns. “I’m sorry, I know I said I would. I didn’t think I’d be so tired. You can stay in my guest bedroom.”

“I’ll call a cab or take the bus home.” 

“It’s late and I don’t want you out there by yourself. I’ll be awake and wondering if something happened to you.” 

His words feel oddly sentimental in the dead of night. You shake it off, though. You’re both tired. 

“Pochi needs me, Sunghoon. I can’t expect my neighbor to watch her without saying anything.”

“Text her, then. If she doesn’t want to, I’ll call you an Uber home.” 

you: Hi Nabi, I’m so sorry to text you so late. I’ve been caught up at work and don’t think I’ll be back until tomorrow. Do you think you can watch Pochi overnight and put her back in my apartment before you leave for work tomorrow?

nabi: ah, I see. you’re with your hot boss, aren’t you? If that’s the case, don’t worry about it. I’ll make sure pochi gets breakfast and replenish her water 

you: You’re a SAVIOR

nabi: didn’t deny being with ur hot boss. interesting 

you: Goodnight :) 

“Nabi’s gonna watch my cat for the night.” 

Sunghoon smiles tiredly. “Great. Let me show you to the guest bedroom and get you some clothes you can change into. There’s makeup remover and skin care stuff in the bathroom.”

“Do you make it a habit of keeping girls to the point where you keep that stuff in your house?”

He laughs. “No, but my sister comes to visit me often enough that I know to keep it in case she stays later than planned.” 

“That's…sweet.” 

“Just trying to be a good older brother.” 

He leads you to the guest bedroom and you’re far too sleepy to marvel at the sheer size. Sunghoon fetches a shirt and sleep shorts, both of which are a bit bigger on you, and bids you goodnight. It feels weird being in his house and staying the night, but Sunghoon was right. There’s no use calling a cab when you’re like this. You slip under the covers hoping for a restful, dreamless night. 

Except, you wake up three hours later and can’t seem to fall back to sleep. 

It’s like your body knows you aren’t where you’re supposed to be. You don’t recall any kind of dream when you realize you’re awake and staring at the ceiling. Tossing and turning don’t seem to be like great options either because it makes you feel even more restless than before. Surely a glass of water won’t be too much. Sunghoon is probably in his room and you watched where he grabbed his glass from. 

As you make your way towards the kitchen, you see the faint light of a television screen from around the corridor. Sunghoon sits on the couch in front of it. He’s watching a rerun of a drama that premiered earlier this year on low volume. When he hears your footsteps behind him, he turns around and is surprised to see that you’re awake. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” 

His voice is so raspy. Shit. 

“No. Don’t know why.”

“Me either.” 

He pats the seat next to him and you sit right next to him. Neither of you speaks, too engrossed in the drama to address how different the atmosphere feels. There’s no work, no obligations, and no boundaries that exist here. It’s like his living room is some kind of liminal space that’s putting you through a limbo you’ve never experienced before. Sunghoon’s body heat radiates into you and it feels like you might as well be sitting next to a human furnace. 

Neither of you talk about why you can’t sleep. You’re not sure why you’re having a hard time, especially since the guest bed is far more comfortable than the one you have back in your apartment. But you do notice Sunghoon peeking at you every once in a while. It makes you feel a bit uneasy because you’re not wearing any makeup and your hair is surely a mess from sleeping, but then you start to notice that he’s looking at you when the couple on the television screen kiss. 

It almost feels like you’re in a movie scene when you look back, too. Sunghoon catches your eyes and doesn’t look away this time. He holds your gaze and you gulp when you see his Adam’s apple move. 

Are you dreaming right now? Is this some kind of test the universe is putting you under? 

Time seems to have slowed down and you’re drowning out the noise of the television the more Sunghoon looks at you. At this moment, he isn’t your boss. He’s not somebody who you’ve learned from, nor is he somebody who is miles out of your league. Sunghoon is the handsome boy next door who you’ve had a small crush on for the past six years but have ignored for the sake of keeping the peace. He’s the guy you’d notice in the grocery store and would think about when you two eventually part ways. 

All of your thoughts cut off when you realize he’s leaning in close to you. 

On instinct, you lean in closer, too. The distance between the two of you closes slowly. He inches towards you like he’s attempting to be as cautious as possible, and you’re following his lead. Your body aches for him. That much you know. 

Sunghoon’s lips touch yours eventually and it’s nothing like the hot and steamy dream you had the night prior. Instead, it’s delicate like the touch of a feather. Neither of you dare to touch one another more than you already are with your knee brushing the side of his thigh. His lips feel so good against yours and that’s all you can think about. 

He pulls away after a brief moment and when he doesn’t see any resistance, Sunghoon moves to touch you. Sunghoon cradles your jaw so delicately and it’s a new feeling for you. Nobody has been this gentle while he’s touching you, and your confident demeanor lowers just a little bit. His lips are dangerously soft and warm. The sound of the kisses bouncing off of his walls makes you fall that much deeper. 

When you open your eyes for a peek at Sunghoon, his eyes are completely closed. 

You surge forward and put more pressure into the kiss. He responds well and matches your desire, tilting his head to the other side as if to explore this part of your mouth. It’s so wet and warm. Sunghoon’s hands move from your cheeks to your shoulder until it runs right down your arm. His fingertips dance along your own until he reaches the bottom hem of the shirt you’re wearing. 

Sunghoon’s hesitation turns you on even more. It’s like he’s trying to withhold himself from touching you even further for the fear of making you uncomfortable, and that grace alone makes you want him to touch you even more. Without a word, you push his hand underneath the material of the shirt, and Sunghoon grips your thigh like he’s never felt you before. You can’t remember a single time somebody has turned you on by a mere touch. Something about Sunghoon makes you want to run without looking back. 

There’s no real battle for who gets to be in control. You’re enjoying your time and it feels like Sunghoon is too, especially with the way he caresses your jaw while his lips are on you. You feel so safe in this moment and it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. Should kissing always feel like you’re ready to lose your inhibitions? Surely, this is a first for you. 

You don’t know who moves first, but you move onto his lap with his hands moving to your waist. He keeps you there like that with his mouth attached to yours and your arms balance on either side of his head while you sit yourself down onto him.

Sunghoon is rock hard underneath you. The two of you feel it. You gasp in shock and Sunghoon opens his eyes to look up at you. 

He’s big. You know he is. That taste of his imprint practically makes you salivate when you feel his dick perfectly slotted against your core for just a second. It excites you to no end, but the way Sunghoon’s looking at you makes you quiver.

“Fuck…” Sunghoon pushes you up and looks away from you to look at his dick straining against his sweatpants. “You weren’t supposed to make me hard.”

“You weren’t supposed to kiss me.”

“But I’ve always wanted to kiss you.” 

Sunghoon leans up to push a short lived peck to your lips. 

“I’m your assistant.

“That you are,” he says with a smile.

“And you’re my boss.” 

“That I am.” 

He smiles anyhow and maneuvers your body until he’s above you. Your back hits the cushions and all of a sudden, you can see just how turned on Sunghoon is. He looks like a mixture of innocent and mischievous, and you decide that’s a dangerous look for you to receive. 

Sunghoon bends down to kiss you again, this time with a little more bravado than the mere peck. Your arms wrap around his muscular shoulders as you pull him closer into your body. He braces himself with one arm beside the couch cushion and in the process, his covered dick pushes right against your core.

The feeling of Sunghoon slowly grinding against you is magnetic. It makes you grind right back into him and use his body as leverage to push yourself up from the couch. You let out a sharp moan when the fabric of your panties creates a delicious kind of friction against your clit. Sunghoon closes his eyes shut and moans too. 

His pace is moderate, but it’s enough for the two of you to become a bit lost. Sunghoon’s imprint makes you wetter when you realize he’s really big. It makes you shudder when you picture what it’ll feel like if Sunghoon puts it inside you. 

The two of you open your eyes at the same time. It’s as if some sort of veil has been uplifted when you see his sweaty forehead and when he sees your shirt ride up your body. The two of you back away from each other like fire and ice.

“W-Wow,” you stutter.

“I’m a good kisser, don’t you think?” 

You swat his bicep. “So arrogant and yet you were rutting into me like a dog in heat.” 

“Can you blame me?” Sunghoon asks, biting his lip. “You look like that while wearing my shirt.”

“Like what?”

“Sex on legs.” 

You choke. 

“Sunghoon.” 

He laughs and looks at the clock. It’s so late. You turn to look too, and the time makes your heart rate pick up. It’s past midnight and you two have to be up in four hours. 

“Shit,” you mumble. 

“Don’t want it to end, love?” 

You look back at him and, for whatever sheepish reason, nod. 

“We’ll have more time tomorrow.” 

Sunghoon bends down to kiss you twice more before pulling himself up and offering you a hand. He pulls you up as well and turns the TV off and leads you to your room before opening the door for you.

“Sunghoon—”

“I’ll make you cum tomorrow,” he promises before kissing you one last time. “For now, get some rest.” 

Your knees buckle when he looks you up and down. Sunghoon’s devilish grin doesn’t falter until you’ve forcibly closed the door on his face. 

***

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are you mine? – lee heeseung

requested. main masterlist.

TAGLIST: to be added to my perma taglist, please send an ask. only those with their ages on their profile can be considered to be added to the taglist, and you must be 18+ as everything i write is mature. anyone sending asks and doesn't meet the criteria, your ask will be deleted.

pairing: academic rival/secret best friend heeseung x afab reader (feat nct best friend sungchan)

genre: angst, more so suggestive than smuttish, but does have a start of a smut scene at the end (mdni)

plot: heeseung loved to taunt you every day, reminding you he was better than you. little did you know, that was just his pathetic way of trying to win you over

warnings: heeseung was an idiot and did childish things to 'flirt', heeseung kind of cornered reader into dating him but it was also consensual, swearing, start of a smut scene but i cut it off oops.

wc: 2543

Lee Heeseung walked the halls of the campus like he owned the whole fucking world, and you hated it with a burning passion.

You hated him with a burning passion.

His face was dumb, his smiles were dumb, his soft yet cheerful greetings were dumb, his lingering hands on your arm when he called for your attention was dumb.

You just wanted to punch him in the face sometimes.

Sure, he was hot—insanely so. He was smart, athletic, good at everything he did. But he wasn’t the king of the world or anything—though he sure liked to act like he was.

His follower count on social media baffled you, you refused to become one of the numbers that stalked his every post and commented thirst all over his photos. You refused to join the crowd.

That didn’t mean you didn’t secretly ogle his photos.

And sometimes, he even shared a lowkey photo of you claiming he was in mad love. You thought he was just using you to get the women in his DMs to back off, but little did you know…

Ever since you were a kid, you were always second place next to Heeseung. He followed you everywhere, just to taunt you and rub that simple fact into your face. Anyone would think he was following you because he was beyond whipped over you, but the whispers he shared into your ears were often taunts of you not being good enough to beat him, not good enough to ever be on top of him, not secret sweet confessions like everyone thought.

You weren’t the only enemy Lee Heeseung had.

Everyone knew there was another student that was second in town, Sungchan. He always pushed you down to third place, but you were okay with the fact it was him. Sungchan didn’t make you feel angry butterflies. His smile calmed you, and he often made you laugh instead of feel fury.

Despite going to sister schools and not sharing any classes growing up, you had become friends with Sungchan through some after school classes you both attended. Dare you say it, he was your best friend.

When all three of you began university, you were beyond happy to be in all the same classes as Sungchan. It just sucked that Heeseung was also in your classes. At least he left you alone.

Sungchan had become more like a brother figure, a best friend, compare to the crush you expected it to turn out to be. When you were a kid, you expected to fall madly in love with Sungchan and you would get your happy ever after with him. But that was far from the case.

You both enjoyed being with one another, but there was no semblance of romance in sight. That, and the fact Sungchan had been in love and dating the same girl from the age of 13.

Sungchan walked you out of class and pulled you aside, chewing at his bottom lip with anxiety. “I think I’m really going to do it, I’m going to propose to her.”

“While I think you’re still way too young to be getting married,” You began, having been through this conversation many times in recent months. You turned around, landing your back against the wall as you watched Sungchan’s reactions. “You’ve been together for so long and it’s clear you’re each other’s soulmates. I wish you all my luck.”

Sungchan’s anxious frown turned into a wide smile, his eyes even glossing over. He jumped in his spot and took a breath to try and clear the fog in his brain. “You’re my number one hype man, and I couldn’t ask for a better friend,” Sungchan complimented you.

You grabbed his cheeks with your hand and pulled his head down a little too aggressive. You pressed a kiss to his forehead, then tapped his cheek with your fingers. “Go get yourself that wife,” You joked with a wide smile.

Sungchan turned and almost ran down the hallway, tripping on the way. You couldn’t help but feel a flutter in your chest. He was so happy, and that made you happy. You silently made a reminder to text him later that night for all the details before you pushed yourself off the wall and turned, only to come face-to-chest with an unknown person.

“Oh, sorry-“ You began, but your happiness dimmed as you looked up at Heeseung. You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest. “How long have you been standing here for?”

“Long enough to see you making fuck me eyes at Sungchan,” He muttered, sounding a little jealous almost. You rolled your eyes, but pushed the angry butterflies in your stomach aside. You felt butterflies for this man only, and it made you hate him more.

“I was not making fuck me eyes at him, thank you very much. Not that it’s any of your business,” You snapped. As you looked up at him, your chin almost rested on his chest. You craved to hold him closer, but you knew you had no right to touch him.

“Of course it’s my business, you’re my fucking girlfriend,” Heeseung snapped, causing your eyes to go wide and your mouth to fall open.

“Um, since when?” You asked. Heeseung looked enraged by your response, his hand grabbing your cheeks just as you had done to Sungchan.

“What do you mean ‘since when’? Since we were kids, maybe. You were always at my house and we spent all of our time together, and you’re only now telling me you were never my girlfriend?”

You couldn’t held but laugh, only causing Heeseung’s eyes to turn into a cold stare as his hand gripped your cheeks tighter, pushing your lips out at the action. “That doesn’t mean we were dating, you know.”

‘Oh yeah? Then why did you sleep over almost every weekend and hug me in your sleep? Why did we go on almost weekly dates?” Heeseung defended the relationship you didn’t even know you was in.

“Dates? Wait, you think us going to the library to study was us going on dates? Come on man, do better. If you’re in love with me then just admit it,” You joked, your hands coming to hold his wrist but you made no effort to push his hand away.

“I’m madly in fucking love with you,” He stated, his voice a little too calm in contrast to the butterflies rumbling in your stomach, trying to get out.

“Excuse me?” You asked, your tone sounded a little too snappy and angry, the opposite of what you intended.

“Enough of your attitude,” Heeseung whispered before he pulled your face to his, his lips pressing against yours gently. Your eyes widened at first, but then your hands let go of his wrist to wrap around his neck to kiss him back.

Heeseung smiled against your lips at the action and turned his head to check his watch before he mumbled, “I’m meant to be in gym right now.”

“Well how about your kind of girlfriend follows you and watches your basketball training for once, yeah?” You asked, Heeseung nodding his head a little too enthusiastically. You didn’t know why you just decided to hop right into the role of his girlfriend from seemingly hating him, but a part of you burned for him. His existence in your life was daily, and you couldn’t bare the idea of parting.

Heeseung let go of your cheeks and laced his hand down, his fingers tangling between yours before he said nothing further and walked with you to the downstairs gym. He had his own little plan, knowing no one would be there for some hours. He thought he was ingenious.

Heeseung had always seen you as his girlfriend. He fell in love with you at first sight as a kid, sharing his paints with you and trying to help you hold your paintbrush at a better angle. He took on most of the project when you were paired up in class, not even asking you to do any work. He walked you home almost every day. He looked at the crowd of his every basketball match, only to feel sadness when he didn’t find your face cheering him on.

He personally thought you were a shit girlfriend, but he loved you with ever fibre of his being so he couldn’t just let you go. He even bragged to the whole world about you, that was why he shared your semi-photos of social media. His friends even deemed you a bad girlfriend, but he still defended your every action.

Heeseung reached the door to lead to the locker room and turned to you with a wide smile. You went to pull your hand away so he could go inside, but instead you let out a gasp when he pulled you in, then into a private changing room. He locked the door behind him, pushing you to sit on the bench.

You looked at him with wide and surprised eyes, watching as he slipped his bag from his shoulder onto the floor by the door. He looked to the right and smirked. “I’m going to have a quick shower since I was working out this morning. I want you to sit front row so it’s easier to wait here so I can show you the quick way to the best seats, yeah?”

You laughed, leaning your head back against the wall. “Wow, you demand I’m your girlfriend and try to fuck me all in the same day.” You caught onto his plot quite quick, but you made no effort to leave. If you wanted to, he would have gladly just saved seeing you for later.

Heeseung rolled his eyes and crouched in front of you, his hands resting on your thighs for support. “It’s not my fault you forgot we were dating.”

“You never asked me,” You snapped, lifting your head to stare into his eyes. The way he raised an eyebrow made the butterflies fight once again. Your hands came to the sides of his jaw, holding his face in your hands. You felt drunk just from his looks.

“Of course I did, and you said ‘yeah, sure,’ so you’re all mine and I would appreciate it if you’d stop flirting with Sungchan,” Heeseung stated, his hands moving their way up your thighs to your hips, his touch gentle but behind his eyes, there was a dark look.

You couldn’t remember the day as you were so lost reading on your phone, how did he expect you to remember? He remembered the feeling of his skin becoming hot and his hands sweaty when he asked. The memory was engraved in his brain for the rest of time.

“Sungchan is literally about to go propose to his girlfriend so I can assure you, I do not flirt with him,” You stated, shaking Heeseung’s face in your hands.

Heeseung smiles wide and then pouted his lips. His hands tightened on your hips, pulling you to the edge of the bench so your lips could meet his again. At first the kiss was gently, but Heeseung soon became needy and began to use his tongue and teeth into the kiss, nipping at your bottom lip to try and heat up the make out session.

You weren’t sure how to react, your brain hazy. You hated him, but you also really, really liked him. He was perfect in every way, despite the daily taunts of him being better than you. You didn’t know that was just his lame way of flirt, and made a reminder to show your boyfriend how to really flirt with a girl when you weren’t so needy to be against one another’s bare skin.

Your hands moved from his jaw back to lock around his neck, pulling him as close as possible. Heeseung smiled against your lips before one of his hands wrapped around your waist, then he grabbed the zip of your pants and he pulled it down. The action caused your pants to fall down a bit, you gasping against his lips. “What are you doing?”

Heeseung laughed and pulled back to rest his forehead against yours. “Sorry, I got a little too caught up. I just want to touch you and make everyone know you’re mine. Mark up the pretty skin on your neck, make you scream my name…”

Heeseung’s words drifted off as he became lost in his own perverted thoughts. Your cheeks became hot and you used one hand to fan at your face and neck, trying not to turn into a fit of nervous giggles.

You laughed and pulled back from him. Heeseung expected you to reject his offer, but God, he had no idea how much you had been dreaming of touching him beyond his face and arms. The parts of you that hated, really only hated that you thought he didn’t care about you. When you found out the truth, of course your whole body became crazed.

You grabbed the edge of your jumper and pulled it off, revealing you were wearing no undershirt or bra. Heeseung’s eyes bulged out of his head for a second before he smirked, his hands coming to your chest as his thumbs rubbed over your nipples, eliciting a moan from you.

“Oh no, is my pretty baby already needy for me?” Heeseung pouted, his thumbs flicking slow, then fast. You raised your hips, leaning your head back as you let out deep breaths. Heeseung took the hint, his hands pushing down your pants. He gripped your ass halfway down, then smirked to himself before he pushed the pants down to your knees.

You let out a gasp as his actions, but couldn’t hold back your laugh. “For someone who was always mean to their girlfriend, you’re sure acting real nice to me right now. Is it just because you’re going to be getting something out of this?”

Heeseung pouted and shook his head in denial. “Of course not, can’t I just treat my pretty girlfriend nice for once?”

Your rolled your eyes but nodded with a smile. Heeseung rushed to push your panties aside, no smart remarks coming from him for once. You were unsure how to react, but decided to just go along with it.

Neither you nor him ever dated anyone else and he was right, you did sleep over his every weekend after studying together. He was a secret best friend, one who tried to push your buttons.

He didn’t seem to comment on the fact when you sleep in his bed, you made sure to push your whole body against his in an attempt to get his attention. If he did notice, then he sure held some strong restraints against your seduction attempts.

You weren’t sure how Sungchan would react to you dating his academic rival, but decided it better to push the worry aside. That was something you could deal with at a later time.

Heeseung instantly dove his face between your legs, tongue out and ready to give you all the pleasure you wanted. His tongue pressed flat against your clit, and you let out a little shriek for the new yet exciting feeling.

── ❝ ꒰ 𝒥𝐸𝐴𝐿𝑂𝑈𝑆𝑌 ៸ 𝒥𝐸𝐴𝐿𝑂𝑈𝑆𝑌 .ᐟㅤ ៸៸﹙ 박성훈 ﹚ ᶻ𐰁

GENRE ៸៸ academic rivals ៸ oneshot ﹔ SYPNOSIS┆in which you spotting your academic rival with another girl makes you feel things you had never once experienced before .ᐟㅤ ꒰ WORD COUNT﹕1551 ꒱── 𝓦ARNING(S) not proofread ៸ flirty hoon ៸ pet names ៸ cursing ៸ . ݁ ✦ ݁ . ⊱ LIBRARY . . . ﹕LUNA 💭 — i miss enha and riize school is depriving me. ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

YOU’VE NEVER LIKED PARK SUNGHOON.

from the very first moment you both met, he was always a step ahead of you—academically, athletically, socially.

even when he wasn’t trying, it seemed like he was out to get you in every way.

whether it was the way he’d breeze through math equations that left you staring at the chalkboard for minutes on end— or how he managed to charm every teacher with his charming wittiness and smooth-talking nature, he just seemed… infuriatingly perfect.

but what made it worse was that he knew it.

“better luck next time, y/n,” sunghoon would say after every test you lost to him.

“don’t worry princess, you’ll get there eventually.” he’d say with a smirk.

and every single time, you would grind your teeth, roll your eyes, and ignore the smug grin on his face.

he was constantly teasing you, acting like your rivalry was all just a game.

he didn’t even take it seriously!— meanwhile, you were constantly working your hardest, pushing yourself to beat him.

but no matter how hard you tried, he was always there, effortlessly flawless. ─── 𝘔𝘖𝘙𝘌 𝘜𝘕𝘋𝘌𝘙 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘊𝘜𝘛 !

the teasing got worse during group projects, where you were often paired together due to your similar grades.

while you were focused on getting things done, sunghoon was focused on teasing you at every opportunity.

“come on, you don’t need to work so hard,” he’d say one afternoon when you were hunched over your notes in the library.

“you’re gonna get wrinkles from all that frowning. besides, you’re cute when you smile.”

you scoffed. “you’re delusional, sunghoon. maybe if you focused more on the project and less on making stupid comments, we wouldn’t be here all afternoon.”

he leaned back in his chair, flashing you that infuriating smirk.

“but tell me, where exactly is the fun in that?”

you hated how his teasing always got under your skin.

and even more than that, you hated how sometimes, when he wasn’t being his cocky self, you caught glimpses of something else.

a small, genuine smile when he thought you weren’t looking—the way his eyes seemed to soften, just for a split second, whenever you were caught up in your work.

but you told yourself it didn’t matter. he was your rival, nothing more.

until one day, everything changed.

it started on a regular afternoon—you were heading to the library to study, the dread of another upcoming test hanging over your shoulders.

you were determined this time to beat sunghoon, no matter what it took.

you had stayed up late the past few nights, reviewing your notes and going over practice problems.

there was absolutely no freaking way in hell you were going to let him win again.

as you approached the library, you spotted sunghoon sitting at a table near the back.

at first, you were ready to ignore him and focus on your work, but then you noticed he wasn’t alone.

a girl sat beside him, leaning close as they whispered and giggled together.

your footsteps faltered, something sharp making its way in your chest.

you didn’t know why, but the sight of sunghoon laughing with someone else—someone who wasn’t you—stung in a way that left you breathless.

you had never seen him like this before— his face was relaxed, open, and there was something intimate about the way they were sitting together, their heads close, completely absorbed in their conversation.

sunghoon’s usually cool and detached demeanor had melted away, replaced by something softer, something you didn’t understand.

and it hurt.

before you could stop yourself, you turned on your heel and walked away.

your chest was tight, and the rational part of your mind tried to convince you that it didn’t matter.

sunghoon was free to talk to whoever he wanted—you sure weren’t his girlfriend, and you certainly didn’t care about what he did outside of your academic rivalry.

but that didn’t stop the flood of emotions crashing through you.

the anger—jealousy—confusion, and somewhere, buried deep beneath it all, was the tiniest flicker of something else—something you refused to acknowledge.

for the next few days, you did everything you could to avoid him.

you stopped going to the library at your usual times, sat farther away from him in class, and when he tried to talk to you, you’d brush him off with a cold remark lacking your usual bicker or pretending you were too busy to listen.

if he noticed, he didn’t say anything, but you caught him glancing your way more often than usual, a frown tugging at his lips.

to distract yourself, you started hanging out with your friend wonbin more.

he was easygoing, fun to be around, and most importantly, he didn’t make your emotions spiral out of control the way sunghoon did.

you’d spend lunch together, study in the library in a different corner from where you and sunghoon would, and soon enough, he became your go-to when you wanted to take your mind off things.

but of course, sunghoon noticed.

it started with the glances—you’d be sitting with wonbin, laughing at one of his jokes, and you’d catch sunghoon watching from across the room.

his usual confidence was replaced with something darker—his jaw clenched, his eyes narrowed.

it unsettled you, but you told yourself it wasn’t your problem, he had no right to be upset when he had been laughing with that girl just days ago.

then came the confrontation.

you were walking to your next class, distracted by a conversation with wonbin, when you felt a firm hand grab your wrist.

startled, you spun around to find sunghoon standing there, his expression hard.

his grip wasn’t tight, but there was something urgent in the way he held onto you, as if he couldn’t let you leave without hearing him out.

“can i talk to you?” his voice was low, but you could hear the tension brewing beneath it.

“not now, sunghoon,” you replied, trying to pull your arm free, but he didn’t let go.

“no, we need to talk. now.. please?”

wonbin gave you a concerned look, but you forced a smile and told him you’d catch up later.

as he walked away, sunghoon tugged you into a quiet, empty hallway where no one could overhear you.

“what the hell is your problem?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper but filled with frustration.

your heart pounded in your chest.

“seriously—my problem? you’re the one acting like an ass.”

“i’m acting like an ass? you’re the one ignoring me for no reason and hanging out with him all the time.” his eyes flicked toward the direction wonbin had walked off in, his jealousy evident.

“oh, so i’m not allowed to have friends now?” you shot back, your voice rising in frustration.

“why do you even care?”

sunghoon’s jaw tightened. “because it’s driving me crazy, okay? seeing you with him—it drives me insane. i don’t know what’s going on, but—” he ran a hand through his hair, his frustration clear.

“why are you avoiding me, y/n? did i do something wrong?”

the vulnerability in his voice caught you off guard. you weren’t used to seeing him like this—raw, open, and confused.

it made your heart ache in a way you weren’t prepared for.

“i saw you,” you finally admitted, crossing your arms in an attempt to keep your voice steady.

“in the library. with that girl. you were laughing with her, and i just—”

you swallowed, unable to finish the sentence. “nevermind—it doesn’t matter.”

sunghoon blinked, his confusion deepening further.

“wait, what girl?”

you glared at him. “don’t play dumb, sunghoon. the girl you were whispering with the other day.”

realization dawned on his face, and for the first time in the conversation, he looked genuinely taken aback.

“you mean… my cousin?”

your stomach dropped. “what?”

“the girl in the library. that was my cousin, y/n. she was visiting for the weekend, and i was just showing her around.” he paused, his lips twitching as if he was holding back laughter.

“wait—no way… are you jealous?”

heat rushed to your face, and you immediately looked away, mortified.

“no! of course not—are you crazy?”

but your weak protest only made him laugh softly, his earlier frustration replaced by amusement— he stepped closer, his tone gentle now.

“you are— don’t lie to me, you’re totally jealous.”

“i’m not,” you mumbled, refusing to meet his eyes.

your cheeks burned with embarrassment. how could you have been so stupid?

sunghoon chuckled, his voice lowering as he reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“you’re really cute when you’re flustered, you know that?”

before you could respond, he leaned in, his lips brushing against your cheek in the softest of kisses.

the warmth of his plush and soft lips on your skin sent shivers down your spine, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe.

when he pulled back, his own cheeks were dusted with pink, and he suddenly looked just as flustered as you felt.

“uh… i’ll, um, see you later,” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly before quickly turning on his heel and walking away, leaving you standing there, heart racing, utterly speechless.

what the hell are you going to do with park sunghoon?

© won4kiss 2024

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[7:04pm] jake x afab!reader

"shut up, everyone can fucking hear you," jake snapped into your ear, his fingers at a relentless pace inside you.

you bit your lip hard, glancing around the table as the rest of your friends engaged in conversation. jake had been talking to sunghoon before he turned his attention to you, pushing a third finger alongside his others as he fucked you onto his hand.

heeseung caught your eye across the table, raising one eyebrow at you. you tried to smile back, letting out a gentle gasp as jake pushed harder against you with each thrust.

"stop looking at heeseung," he whispered. "should only be focusing on me."

you nodded weakly, breaking eye contact with heeseung to look up at jake. his eyes were harsh, fingers not once slowing as you leaked arousal all over them and onto the fabric of the seat below you.

if the restaurant wasn't so noisy then everyone would've heard the whine you let out, turning your body towards jake and winding your own fingers into his shirt. you felt eyes on you but you couldn't find it in you to care, all you could think about was how close you were to coming all over your best friends hand.

"you ok y/n?" heeseung called from across the table, gathering the attention of a few others, "you look a little flushed."

you didn't release your grip on jake's shirt, instead you pushed your forehead against his chest and held him closer as he pressed a thumb to your clit, bringing you right to the edge and holding you there.

jake bought his free hand up, stroking your hair gently as you tried to hide your flushed cheeks against him, "I think she's feeling a little unwell, right y/n?"

you nodded, squeezing your eyes tight as your orgasm started to wash over you. you didn't even think about the others in the room, instead mumbling jake's name over and over as he coaxed you through your high, small praises leaving his lips.

"good girl y/n, cum all over my fingers baby," you were really fucking glad no one could hear the words leaving your friends mouth as he slowed down the pace of his fingers, letting your orgasm fade away before fully removing his hand from your cunt.

you took a deep breathe, spending a few seconds to collect yourself before you removed your face from his chest. you looked up at him, catching his gaze as he gave you a soft smile, a completely different person to the one who ripped an orgasm from you moments before. jake leant down, kissing your forehead softly and placing his hand on your thigh, you tried to ignore the feel of your release coating his fingers.

looking around at the rest of the table, you noticed heeseung still staring at you, eyes wide and curious. you blushed under his gaze, a wink being thrown your way and the sound of jake laughing next to you told you that heeseung was well aware of what had just happened right in front of him. not that he was mad about it or anything, he enjoyed the show.

bed of lies ; park sunghoon

↳ PAIRING: park sunghoon x fembodied!reader

↳ SUMMARY: to prove to his best friend that he could get any girl he wants, park sunghoon makes a bet. within the next 30 days, he has to make the next girl that walks into the room fall in love with him. sunghoon, however, hadn’t anticipated the feelings he would gain during those 30 days.

↳ GENRE: fake relationship (kind of)

↳ WORDCOUNT: around 40k

↳ WARNINGS: alcohol consumption, cigarettes, cursing, angst, sunghoon has major mommy issues lmfao, smut; oral sex, handjobs, unprotected sex, fingering, making out, handjobs etc, minors dni!

↳ TAGLIST: CLOSED !

— PART ONE release date : 8TH OF AUGUST, 4 PM CET

summary : making a bet with jay was easy. getting your attention, however, wasn’t as easy; especially since you seem to have your eyes set on his bestfriend.

word count : 10,3k

— PART TWO release date : 15TH OF AUGUST, 4 PM CET

summary : you getting closer to jake was most definitely not on sunghoons list of things he expected to happen, but you making his heart flutter wasn’t on that list either; yet you did. word count : 8,8k

— PART THREE release date : 6TH OF SEPTEMBER, 10 PM CET

summary : the time spent with you causes sunghoon to come the realization that he fucked up, and he fucked up bad. and thanks to jake, you also realize how badly sunghoon fucked up.

word count : 10k

— PART FOUR release date : 26TH OF OCTOBER, 1:25 AM CET

summary : sunghoon comes to terms with the fact that he has fallen in love with you and is willing to do everything in his power to show you that he has truly fallen for you, but are you willing to forgive him?

word count : 9.6k © svnoohe4rts 2022

MY DEAR ANNOYING SEATMATE ― lee heeseung

↳ PAIRING: lee heeseung x fembodied!reader

↳ SYNOPSIS: there was only a few things you hated in life, but your dear seatmate lee heeseung was most definitely one of the few things you absolutely despised. with the two of you being paired up for an upcoming project, it seemed like life possibly couldn’t get any worse; so why did he suddenly almost look cute?

↳ GENRE: enemies to lovers (kind of but not really, reader hates heeseung for no valid reason while heeseung is just clueless)

↳ WORD COUNT: 17.1k

↳ WARNINGS: slight angst, SMUT ! MDNI . | oral (m recieving), cum eating, heeseung is extremely inexperienced while reader is experienced (let me know if there’s anything i should add !)

↳ A/N: i got too carried away writing this, making this my longest fic ever … i blame it on nerd!hee :’) proof read but there’s probably a few mistakes i’ve missed, don’t be afraid to point them out !!! all feedback is appreciated ! <3 

YOU HATED LEE HEESEUNG.

The boy assigned to the seat next to you had never necessarily done anything for you to hate him. Thinking about it, there was nothing he possibly could’ve done, considering that he usually kept to himself most of the time and had probably only uttered about two or three words to you during your time as seatmates.

But one thing was for sure, you absolutely despised him.

Seguir leyendo

sin city

pairing: gambler!sunghoon x afab baritsa!reader

requested: no

genre: smut, angst and some fluff (minors dni!!!)

warnings: brief mention of female masturbation, oral (m and f receiving), lowkey exhibitionism and humiliation, spitting, mild face fucking, wax play, protected sex, use of a gag, alcohol consumption, use of drugs (coke + LSD, be safe and don't do drugs), gambling (obv), brief mention of blood, readers boss is kinda yucky and her parents suck

word count: 12.8K

a/n: well... second times the charm 😻 hopefully my tags work this time and again apologies for posting this then deleting it because tumblr was being dumb. i suck at proofreading so if there’s any mistakes let me know. still v nervous to be sharing this w all of you but as always let me know your thoughts, i hope you enjoy (and again, ignore any repeat/messed up paragraphs bc tumblr still has yet to fix that glitch)

this is a work of fiction and is not meant to accurately depict or portray the idols mentioned. photos not mine, credits to original owners (retrieved from pinterest)

fail is such an aggressive word. to fail at something is embarrassing, humiliating, shameful! the self-loathing and unwanted pity from others is what makes failure simply unbearable.

which is why you didn’t tell your parents that you were failing university. you simply told them it was a personal choice; you were dropping out.

at first they were confused, and thought you were planning on transferring to school elsewhere, or just taking a gap year to focus on something else. travel, self discovery, mental health, time with family. so you fed into that lie, and told them that come september you’d be out of their hair embarking on an adventure to further your development. it was hard - being dishonest to your parents, keeping up the facade - but you had no intention of telling them that you failed out of school. they would never be the wiser.

that was until you made the mistake of leaving your laptop open on your desk with your entire academic record on display. your mom was vacuuming, and decided to take a peek at the screen.

to say they were upset was an understatement. 

it took a few days for them to hold an actual conversation with you, choosing to spare you the occasional glance and incoherent mumbling to show their disapproval at your poor academic performance.

one night at dinner you blew up.

“i don’t know why you’re making this such a big deal! yes, i failed university. so what?! does that make me a bad person??”

you didn’t expect them to say much, but when they didn’t say anything while staring at their half-eaten dinner plants your heart sank. sure, your family had always valued academic excellence, but you didn’t think it was this serious.

the void of silence is filled with the scraping sound of your chair sliding against the linoleum floor, announcing your departure from the table.

when you get to your room you slam the door, cry, then fall asleep on the floor.

you’re woken up a few hours later by the sounds of your parents getting ready to go to bed. there are hushed whispers outside of your door, and you hear your dad ask if he should check on you. seconds later, the hallway light turns off and you hear the door to your parent’s room close.

your hips and shoulders start to ache as you lay on your hardwood floor, but you find no motivation to pick yourself up. since you hadn’t closed your blind, your room had turned a shade of deep blue, courtesy of the moon. pushing yourself up into a seated position, your eyes scan the contents of your room, and you can’t help but reminisce.

the stuffed bear you refused to sleep without when you were 8, the wilted corsage you wore to prom, the laptop you wrote all of your university assignments on before dropping out - ouch, too soon.

a gust of wind passes through your open window and flutters the string of polaroids you have tacked up to your wall. one is of your old family cat. one is of you after you graduated high school. your favourite one is of soojin in front of a twilight sky, a half-empty cooler in her hand.

you had met soojin in 10th grade bio, when both of you were partnerless on frog dissection day and had to team up. the entire 75 minute period consisted of you doing all the work while soojin squealed in disgust.

after that you were practically attached at the hip.

the night before you moved to university you and soojin snuck onto the roof of your high school using your janitors janky old ladder. you sat on foldable lawn chairs and drank and laughed and cried while talking about your place in the world.

“sometimes i wish i was a cat,” you confessed, and soojin laughed.

“a cat? why?”

“life would be so simple. i’d sleep all day and get head scratches and food.”

“that’s fair.”

a siren wailed somewhere in the distance. the traffic lights in the intersection across from your school changed. a late summer breeze ruffled your hair.

“i’m gonna move to las vegas.”

you turned to look at soojin, and she looked back at you.

“when?”

“i don’t know… sometime in the near future,” she took a sip of her drink before she continued, “i’ve never been set on going to post-secondary so i might as well.”

you nodded, “why vegas though?”

“it’s a part of my fantasy.”

“what’s your fantasy?”

she shifts in her chair so she’s facing you, an enthusiastic glint now present in her eyes. 

“i’m gonna move to vegas, spend some time working at some fancy upscale casino or bar or club or whatever. then, i’ll make a hot rich person fall in love with me, we’ll get married on the strip, and then i’ll never have to work a day in my life again!”

“i mean it sounds great,” you took a sip of your drink, “but aren’t most rich people in vegas like, middle aged men?”

“you got anything against dilfs?”

“touche.”

you weren’t surprised when a year or so later soojin told you she was making her fantasy become a reality - she had always been much more of a go-getter than you. 

that didn’t make saying goodbye any easier though. 

at the time you were still living away from home, so you couldn’t even give her a proper send-off. of course she facetimed you as soon as her plane landed, but you would’ve given anything to see her in person before she leaves for who knows how long.

and now, as you lie on the cold hardwood floor of your childhood bedroom, your eyes puffy and itchy from all of the tears you’ve shed, you devise a plan that will allow you to be with your best friend again.

“i’m moving out.”

your parents hardly bat an eye at your announcement.

“where are you going to go?” your dad questions, his eyes leaving his sudoku to look at you momentarily. the way he phrases his sentence makes it sound like he thinks you need your parents, that you have no one else to rely on.

“las vegas. to live with soojin.”

“vegas? but that city’s so… raunchy,” your mother has never been a fan of big cities, specifically ones known for dancing and gambling and drinking and flamboyance.

“well, that’s where i’m going and when i get there i’m gonna find an apartment and get a job. i don’t know when i’ll be back, my plane leaves in a couple of hours.”

there’s silence, an exchanged glance between the two of them, and then your dad mumbles “whatever makes you happy.”

assuming that this conversation is now over, you make your way upstairs to continue packing before your big move.

as much as you wanted to surprise soojin and show up unannounced, you're also somewhat relying on her to help you find a job and a place to stay - and she came through. it just so happened that the lucky cat - a popular upscale casino that soojin’s been working at for the past few years  - is looking for a couple more floor staff to help with the hectic summer season.

in addition to that, there are tons of apartment vacancies since all of the university of nevada students have gone home for the summer - soojin said you can crash at her place until you sign a lease.

your extremely last minute plan to move thousands of miles away from home has somehow worked entirely in your favour. fingers crossed for no last minute curve balls!

you opt to leave the majority of your belongings behind; you don’t have much in terms of keepsakes anyway. one of your suitcases is filled with clothes, the other with personal items, and your backpack with all of your important possessions.

when the time on your clock reads 3:00 pm, you call for a taxi and make your way downstairs. 

you give your parents stiff unnatural hugs before your taxi pulls up outside and you load all of your luggage into the trunk. your mom looks like she wants to say something but refrains. the cab driver pulls away, and you watch your childhood home along with your parents turn into mere specks in the distance.

airport security is a breeze - you just have to avoid all of the sloppy unorganised tourists who have no idea what they’re doing. by the time you board your flight it’s dusk, and you stare at the various shades of blues, pink and purples staining the sky as your plane streaks down the runway and lifts off.

for the majority of the flight you sleep, knowing that when you land you’ll go right to soojin’s place and she’ll likely want to give a grand tour of the strip. besides, who doesn’t want to explore on their first night in a new city?

the jolt of the plane touching the ground is what wakes you some time later. the view outside your window is dark, and the vegas airport slowly comes into sight as the airplane continues down the runway. you wait until the seatbelt sign is turned off before grabbing your carry-on bag and exiting the aircraft. 

after claiming the rest of your luggage at the baggage carousel, you make your way outside and inhale your first breath of vegas air. it’s warm outside, and somewhat humid, but it makes you feel alive. 

hailing a cab, you toss your belongings in the trunk and recite soojin’s apartment address from where you wrote it down in your phone to the driver. he puts the cab into drive, and you watch the harry reid airport get further and further away as you’re escorted into the city that you now call home.

through the window of the taxi you stare in awe at the dozens upon dozens of clubs, casino’s, bars and hotels lining the roads. every building and sign is lit up by thousands of lights in all colours of the rainbow, enticing visitors to enter and blow ungodly amounts of money in one night. the streets are teeming with eager party people dressed in sequins and suits who’s night’s are just beginning.

so this is how miley felt in party in the usa. she’s so real for that.

the drive isn’t long, just over 10 minutes, and your heart flips in your chest when your taxi comes to a halt outside of soojin’s apartment complex. you grab your belongings form the trunk before paying your driver and 

while in the elevator you feel yourself getting more and more nervous with each passing second. will soojin act differently? will she look different? do you look different? sure the two of you facetime every other day, but nothing compares to seeing someone in person.

you're forced out of your thoughts when the elevator stops, letting you know that you’ve arrived at your designated floor. you lug your bags down the hallway and with a shaky hand you knock on soojin’s door. inside you hear erratic footsteps before the door in front of you swings open.

“AHHHHHH YOU BITCH YOU’RE HERE!!!!”

before you can say anything in response, all of the air is sucked out of your lungs as soojin captures you in a bone crushing hug, causing you to scream in excitement (and slight discomfort).

the two of you do a semi-awkward jump hug in soojin’s doorway and rejoice after not having seen each other in years. while lugging your suitcase into soojin’s living room you do your best to catch up with each other. she raves about her job and you bitch about your parents while you get settled.

“i hope you slept well on the plane, because our night is just about to start!” soojin shouts before disappearing into her bedroom, “now change into something slutty!”

once you’ve fixed your hair and makeup and change into an outfit deemed ‘vegas-worthy’ by soojin, she grabs you by the arm and drags you out of her apartment. “time for soojin’s unofficial tour of the strip!”

the sidewalks are even busier than they were when you were driven through here not too long ago, and you find yourself just narrowly escaping head-on collisions with other tourists and locals.

“ooh let’s go in here!” soojin’s nails dig into the pulse point on your wrist and you rush to keep up with her, flashing your i.d and paying an entry fee before being let into a two-story club with flashing purple and green strobe lights.

a drag queen in a bright orange wig is turning it out on the small wooden stage, but soojin drags you into the nearest bathroom before you can watch any more of her performance. 

once the two of you are in a stall and the door is locked behind you, soojin whips out a small compact mirror and a baggie of powder from her purse. you hand her your i.d which she uses to make several thin white lines, and then digs through her purse to find a pre-rolled $1 bill - which she passes to you.

you try to ignore the slight sting in your nostril as you do your first line off of the small pocket mirror, and you pass the bill over to soojin. the walls and floor of the bathroom stall start to waver as the coke kicks in almost instantaneously, and you laugh because it looks like soojin’s eyeballs are melting out of their sockets. you do a few more lines before exiting the stall with soojin following behind you.

the two of you make your way onto the dance floor that’s sticky with spilled drinks and lose yourself to music by lady gaga, beyonce, rihanna, and britney. it feels like your limbs have turned to jelly and you can’t stop laughing and dancing with your best friend. at some point your nose starts bleeding which you only realise once it’s dripped down your lips and you can taste the metallic tang in your mouth.

you hop from bar to bar and club to club, and soojin tells you stories about each one of them. “this is the club where i lost my shoes, and this is the bar where i fell off a stool, and this is the club where…” it doesn’t stop.

once your coke-induced high starts to wane you turn to alcohol, sucking back one too many lemon drops than one should. at this point of the night your feet have several blisters and your hair is stuck to the nape of your neck with sweat, but you’re too intoxicated to care. it’s been so long since you’ve had fun, since you’ve felt so… carefree. it’s euphoric, to say the least.

when you and soojin finally decide to call it a night you step outside and take a deep inhale. compared to the hot and stuffy interior of clubs, even the polluted vegas air is a relief. in the east you see a tinge of yellow in the sky as the sun begins to welcome a new day, and you stumble your way back home.

it’s july, and you’ve officially been living in vegas for a month. the past few weeks have been hectic but fun, and you’d forgotten how much you missed being around soojin. you spent the first couple of days recovering from your night out by lounging on her couch, before deciding to get your shit together and meet with her boss at the lucky cat casino.

the interview was strangely simple, and entailed your soon-to-be boss scanning your resume before asking if you knew how to make any mixed drinks, to which you responded: “uh… i can make a vodka cran?”

you were hired on the spot (red flag, but whatever) and the next day soojin showed you the ropes. luckily it’s a relatively easy position, with a ton of other floor staff around to help you if you’re ever in a pinch.

after securing a job you sign a lease for a small studio apartment in a complex a couple minutes away from soojin’s; the rent isn’t ideal but it’s not horrible and with the leftover money you saved for uni as well as your cash flow from the casino you make it work. 

throughout the entirety of the month you’ve spoken to your parent’s once. your mom called out of the blue, perhaps in an attempt to rekindle your mother-daughter relationship, but it didn’t go very well.

“so how’s california?”

“what?”

“cali? aren’t you in los angeles?”

“no mom, i’m in las vegas… you know, nevada.”

“oh… right.”

you hung up shortly after, and didn’t plan on calling back anytime soon. sure, maybe you were being dramatic, but so were they. 

today you’re scheduled for your regular evening shift, but your boss asked you to come in early for a one on one meeting about your work performance. when you get there he’s leaning against a wall waiting for you, curling his finger in a ‘come hither’ motion to get you to to follow him into his office.

“so,” your boss starts, straddling a flimsy plastic chair so as to make it seem like this is a conversation between two friends and not a manager and his employee.

“you’ve officially been working here for a month, so we’re through your probation period,” he sighs deeply before continuing, “and your performance… has not been great.”

fuck fuck fuck!! this is it. you’re fired, done for! what are you going to do now? you can’t go home, will you be able to even find another job in vegas??

“y/n, i’m not firing you.”

oh. that’s good.

“you just need to be more appealing to customers to bring in more revenue.”

appealing? is he calling you unattractive? you furrow your brows in scepticism “okay… how should i do that?”

your boss takes a second, eyes you suspiciously, then asks: “do you want me to be blunt?”

you nod, so he continues.

“stop dressing like a prude. show some skin.”

“excuse me?”

“i hate to break it to you, but that’s what sells these days,” he grunts while getting up from his chair, a clear sign that this conversation is over.

“but-” 

“don’t take it personally y/n. just loosen up a bit, okay?”

and with that he leaves, the large steel door swinging shut behind him. with every second you spend sitting alone in the messy, humid office of your manager your self-confidence gets smaller and smaller, like a balloon, until it’s all shrivelled up; seemingly non-existent. you go through the entirety of your shift with your head hung low. 

it’s past midnight when you get back to your apartment that smells like paint and old chinese takeout. the advice - command? - that your boss gave to you bounces around in your brain like a ping pong ball.

you finger yourself in the shower before going to bed.

it’s an egg kind of morning.

some mornings are pancake or french toast or waffle mornings; when you’re feeling more lavish and want to indulge yourself. busy days are reserved for cereal or yogurt and granola, when you just need to fuel yourself and get out of the door.

egg days are in between days. you have enough time this morning to make a semi-decent breakfast, so you do. poached eggs - the kind where you put them on a piece of toast with some shredded cheese and then pop the yolks with the tip of your butterknife before watching the golden liquid pool on your plate.

you get half-way through the dish before you feel like puking, remembering why egg days aren’t common.

chucking the rest of your breakfast in the compost, you get ready for the day. the dry-erase calendar you have tacked onto the wall by your front door reminds you that you don’t have work until later this evening; so it’s settled.

today will be a day of reinvention. 

there’s much to be done, so you pull on your fanciest casual outfit and head out. 

the vegas strip is somewhat busy today - but then again when is it not. nighttime is when the city comes alive. clubs and casinos and theatre’s showcasing snuff films all open their doors for the mature population, providing them with enough alcohol to make their brains go fuzzy until they wake up having no clue what happened. 

daytime is when the streets are packed with tourists and their obnoxious children darting between the mandalay bay aquarium, the discovery museum and the hershey’s store. which is why you try not to leave your apartment before the families on vacation retire to their hotels for the night. but today, you make an exception.

the sun beats down on your aching shoulders the second you step out of your apartment, and you mentally slap yourself when you remember that you forgot to put on sunscreen. 

when you arrive at your first destination, an upscale salon that soojin recommended to you on your first night out, you bask in the AC before they call your name.

you splurge and get your eyebrows, legs and bikini line waxed. when your aesthetician is finished, you’re whisked away into a cushioned white chair in front of a white desk in a room with white walls and white floors. you get dark red acrylics, long enough to be sexy but not so long that they impact your ability to work. if your mom saw you right now she’d say you look like a hooker. once you’re finished at the salon, you head out to spend more money.

multiple shopping bags filled with skimpy thongs, lacy bras and sheer black pantyhose hang off of your arms as you make your way around the strip mall closest to your apartment. you vow to toss your old electric toothbrush before buying an actual vibrator, one that can give you much better orgasms. with each purchase your worry of your card being maxed out increases, so you decide to call it quits.

once your spa day has come to an end you head back to your shoebox apartment, picking up some tofu pad thai on the way. you binge watch peaky blinders while waiting until you need to leave for your shift, self-doubt coursing through your veins.

“you look different.”

spinning on your heel in the employees only room at work, you come face to face with soojin.

“good different or bad different?”

“good, definitely good. you look hot.”

“thanks,” your face heats up, “boss told me to loosen up to make more cash, so i’m glad it didn’t go unnoticed.”

she rolls her eyes, “it’s the unfortunate truth. here, this is my secret weapon.”

her hand slips into her mint green baguette purse, fishes around for a couple seconds, before pulling something out and placing it in your palm. it’s cold; metal.

“works like a charm~” she sing-songs before making her way back to the staff-only room to get ready for her shift.

in your palm you can feel something long and rectangular but with rounded edges; a tube of lipstick. chanel rouge allure #117 - or cuivre. red. sparkly. sexy.

in the employee’s only bathroom you stare at your reflection in the mirror before popping the top off of the tube of lipstick. it glides onto your lips  with ease, and you stare at your reflection in the dimly lit bathroom. you look pretty. after ensuring that no lipstick made its way onto your teeth, you head out and start your shift.

the casino is decently busy tonight, so the first time you have a chance to talk to soojin again is when you both end up behind the bar at the same time.

“how are the tips tonight? i bet they’re just rolling in now that you look like a skank.”

you laugh while measuring out some white rum to add to a customer’s mojito, “i’m not complaining!”

soojin finishes straining her cosmopolitan before leaning into you, “do you want me to let you in on another one of my secrets?”

you nod. who doesn’t want tips on how to make more money?

“younger people always tip better. once someone’s above 40 it’s like a flip switches in their brain and they have some kind of entitlement that makes them less likely to tip. so, if a group of 20 or 30-something’s come in, snag ‘em.”

“i mean that makes sense,” you continue mixing drinks while you talk, “but practically every customer in here is a middle aged white man.”

“not everyone,” soojin says while pointing at a table to your left, where a frequent customer with a beer gut and a bald spot is sitting playing poker.

“... mr. creole? but he’s like 70..”

“what? no, not him!” soojin places a perfectly manicured finger on your jaw and slightly turns your head further to the left, your gaze landing on a baccarat table at the back of the room, “them.”

there, a group of 4 men in slacks and white dress shirts rolled up at the sleeves are huddled together while the dealer places chips and cards on the table. the one gambling is seated across from the dealer while the other 3 are huddled around him, clearing hyping him up to win big.

“you see the tallest one?” soojin practically whispers into your ear, “that’s heeseung. he doesn’t gamble too much, mostly he’s there for moral support.”

soojin’s right, he is tall. i mean they all are, but his body is like 70% leg. you watch as heeseung laughs at whatever one of his friends says before checking his watch, clearly not wanting to stay much longer. 

“the one on his left is jake, and the one beside him is jay. they gamble sometimes, usually black jack or the slot machines, but i think they mostly come for the drinks - and the girls.” 

jake and jay definitely seem the most excited to be there; they’re both leaning over their gambling friend’s shoulder whispering excitedly, undoubtedly telling him to go all in or whatever the proper term is - you still don’t know much about gambling.

“the guy in the middle is sunghoon,” your eyes fall upon the man in the centre of the group, “he’s like the best of the best.”

you watch as his ring clad fingers dart across the felted surface of the table, flipping cards and picking up chips as if it’s second nature to him. upon closer inspection you notice his features are quite leporine; sharp brows, poignant nose, nice white teeth that are revealed when he laughs at something his friend says.

“he plays anything and everything here,” soojin starts while staring at sunghoon like you are, “roulette, blackjack, three-card poker, but he’s the best at baccarat - specifically baccarat chemin de fer.”

your brain short circuits, “listen, i know jack shit about gambling, so none of that really means anything to me.”

soojin laughs at your bluntness, “basically he’s super rich and super lucky… and hot, but you don’t need to know anything about gambling to see that.”

sounds like your kind of man.

“how do you know so much about them?” 

“i’m their usual server,” soojin starts, and then a mischievous look appears in her eyes, “do you wanna help me?”

“what, like right now?”

“i mean, yea.” 

you stare at her blankly, “i don’t know i mean i’m still pretty new here and i don’t know what i’m doing and-”

“oh come on y/n you are a chronic overthinker, let’s go!” and with that she’s dragging you across the casino to where the 4 men are seated.  soojin begins conversing with the table and you stand behind her awkwardly, palms sweaty and knees about to buckle. it’s not everyday that you’re surrounded by a group of 4 tall, rich, attractive guys. while soojin interacts with her usual customers, you cower behind her like a scared child, waiting for her to loop you into the conversation.

“and this,” she grabs you by your elbow and pulls you forward, “is y/n, my best friend and coworker.” you wave awkwardly, and they all wave back.

it’s times like this when you’re reminded that soojin’s a natural at her job, whereas you on the other hand are not. she immediately begins to converse with her regulars, leaving you standing off to the side before you make awkward eye contact with sunghoon. you realise that now would be a good time to actually do your job.

“uh, is there anything i can get you to drink?”

“sure!” he smiles at you, and he really does have a nice smile, “can i get a m-” 

you know those cheesy movie scenes where the protagonist finally meets the love of their life and suddenly everything around them is tinted pink and moving in slo-mo? this feels exactly like that. you try to listen to what sunghoon is saying but all you can focus on is his icy blond hair, his perfect skin, his deep brown eyes (that you notice darting to your lips on more than one occasion - thank you soojin!)

you force yourself to tune back in to real time when you realise he’s stopped talking, and then mentally slap yourself because you just missed his entire order spare for the first letter being ‘m’.

too stubborn to say something, you just nod with a smile and head back towards the bar while racking your brain for every single cocktail starting with the letter m. a milk & honey seems too niche, a moscow mule too intense, and a mai tai too fruity. so you settle on a well-known ‘m’ cocktail: margarita. a classic! who doesn’t love margarita’s? (hopefully not sunghoon).

you get to business salting the rim of your glass and mixing the tequila and lime juice while making sure that this is the prettiest fucking margarita you’ve ever made. when you’re finished, you take a deep breath and head back over to the baccarat table where soojin is still talking to jay, jake and heeseung.

beside them, sunghoon is waiting patiently for his drink, and you place it in front of him on the velvet tabletop.

“oh, uh…” he stares at the drink you hand him with confusion. fuck, his ‘m’ cocktail wasn’t a margarita. 

panic begins to kick in, and you contemplate pulling the ‘i’m new here’ card, “sorry, is that not what you ordered?”

“no, it was a martini… you know, like james bond?”

of course it was a fucking martini you dipshit! literally the drink of choice for all men who like to fantasise that they’re a world famous spy.

sunghoon probably notices you panicking, “but it’s ok! i like margaritas too.”

“no, let me get you what you actually ordered!” 

“no really it’s fine-” sunghoon starts, but you’ve already began to weave through the other tables. when your out of view of any customers you actually slap yourself. you just embarrassed yourself in front of the hottest guy in the whole casino! great, your life is over. 

you try to ignoring the heat rushing to your face while straining sunghoon’s martini and then head back to that baccarat table for the third time in the past 5 minutes, apologising profusely while handing the man in question his actual order. he smiles before handing you a $20, which you slip into your work apron.

“should i give this back to you then?” he holds up the margarita you made, beads of condensation already rolling down the side of the glass.

“keep it, it’s on the house.” you smile, and leave the table for good.

“that’s it, i have to quit now.” you whine to soojin once you’re both behind the bar again.

“what happened? i thought it went well.” soojin questions while shaking a long island iced tea.

“i messed up his fucking order dude. i embarrassed myself!” you hide your head in your hands and huff in frustration.

“come on y/n that’s not the end of the world! and sunghoon’s a nice guy, i’m sure he understands that you were just so enthralled with his beauty you couldn’t focus on what he was saying.”

you sock her in the shoulder, and then cringe because that’s exactly what happened. and when your shift ends at the early hours of the morning, sunghoon is all you’re thinking about.

apparently you’d been on sunghoon’s mind too, because the second you get to work the next day soojin is excitedly dragging you back into the employees only room. there, a gorgeous bouquet made of peruvian lilies, delphinium, and baby’s breath is sitting on the table, a thick, off-white card tied to the stems. it reads:

y/n,

will you let me see you again? 

3600 S Las Vegas Blvd, 11:00 pm. 

i’ll have someone pick you up.

p.sh

“signed p.sh? who’s that?”

“that’s sunghoon you numbskull! he’s asking you out on a date!”

you bend down to smell the bouquet made for you, “it’s not a date soojin, he just wants to see me.”

“yea, and he clearly has romantic intentions, hence the flowers!” she dramatically motions to the bouquet, “in my books that qualifies as a date, but to each their own.”

throughout your shift your nerves are piqued; you try to chalk it up to the humidity or the fact that you accidentally spilled a rum and coke on a well-paying customer, but in the back of your brain you know it's because of sunghoon.

when the time comes for your shift to be over you rush to the bathroom to attempt to spruce yourself up after having worked for almost 8 hours. you finger-comb your hair and swipe on some deodorant before applying a fresh coat of the lipstick soojin gave you - since sunghoon kept staring at your lips last night surely he’d appreciate you wearing it again.

stepping out of the lucky cat, you try not to audibly gasp as the stunning white rolls royce ghost that’s waiting for you at the curb, hazards blinking. so sunghoon’s rich rich, got it. suddenly your attire feels extremely lacklustre. 

“y/n?” a bearded man with big hands calls out to you from the driver's seat.

“that’s me.” you slide into one of the smooth leather seats, close the door behind you, and hope that you’re not being driven to your doom.

“you’re late,” he jokes, “4 minutes to be exact.” 

sunghoon’s standing on the sidewalk right where his driver drops you off. he’s dressed similarly to how he was when you saw him last night, slacks and a button up even though it’s the middle of the summer.

“don’t blame me, blame your driver.”

he smirks and raises an eyebrow as if to say touche, and he sticks his elbow out for you to loop your arm through - so you do. the two of you walk in tandem and you scan your surroundings to try to figure out where sunghoon’s brought you. a vast pool of water catches your eye not too far away from you and something clicks in your brain - the bellagio, of course! only now the water’s at a standstill since the magnificent fountain only goes off every fifteen minutes.

“do you bring all of the girls you meet here?”

“what, to the bellagio? no way, only the real special ones.”

“what makes me so special then?”

“i don’t know, you seem… charismatic? and you’re funny, i like that.”

“funny because i messed up your drink order?”

“i mean, kinda! it just makes you seem more… human.” he shrugs while shoving his hands in his pockets. “don’t tell soojin i said that though.”

you laugh, and then bring a finger up to your lips in a shushing motion.

“so,” sunghoon stops walking so the two of you are standing on the sidewalk with a perfect view of the bellagio, “how long have you been in vegas?”

you do quick math in your head, “just over a month. i moved here after i… flunked university.”

“oh, that’s rough” he grimaces before smiling coyly, “your turn.”

“my turn? for what?”

“ask me a question.”

“okay, uhhh,” is asking where he gets all of his money from rude? possibly, so you ask him: “how do you gamble?”

sunghoon looks at you with confusion, before chuckling softly. that was definitely a dumb question. “what do you mean?”

“like the card games and stuff! i don’t get it.”

“but you work at a casino.”

“i make drinks at a casino, i don’t have anything to do with the games.”

he raises his hands in defence. “well, all of the card games are different, but my favourite is probably baccarat - black jack is fun too, though. anyways, the main goal of baccarat is to get as close to nine as possible. you start by betting chips on either the player or the banker, and then the dealer draws two cards for both of them. the cards are flipped over and whoever’s closer to nine wins, but you don’t want to go over a score of nine. you can also bet on a tie, a banker pair, and a player pair… are you following me?”

“nuh uh.”

he gives up trying to explain, “basically you throw some cards and chips on a table and win money.”

the two of you sit in silence for a moment, with sunghoon staring at the water in front of him - likely thinking of a question to ask you since he’s the one who started this little game.

“do you have any wishes?”

confusion evident on your face, your turn to look at him.

“because if you do, this would be the place to make one.” he gestures to the bellagio, 

it’s then that he reaches into his pocket and pulls out 2 silver coins - nickels. he keeps one for himself, then places the other in the palm of your hand. 

you watch as he turns to face the fountain, his side profile lit up by the warm glow from the white lights in the water. his eyes close and his brows furrow for just a moment, and then he tosses his coin into the fountain.

“what did you wish for?”

“if i tell you it won’t come true.” he stares at you, his eyes catching the glow from the lights of the nearby hotel. “your turn,” he repeats for the second time tonight.

you follow in his footsteps, closing your eyes while making a wish and tossing your coin into the fountain. when you open your eyes, you swear sunghoon’s closer to you than he was before.

before you can come up with a witty response, a dramatic whoosh! sounds and you look beside you to see that the water show has begun. an amazing display of lights and aquatics plays out before your eyes as the fountains erupt in synchronisation, creating a dazzling and unforgettable display.

“pretty.”

you’re about to agree, only until you realise that sunghoon’s focus is on you, not the fountain. his eyes are glossy and he smells of bergamot and sage, and you finally get to live in that rom-com moment when he leans in and presses his lips against yours. 

his lips are plump but slightly chapped, and you struggle to keep your balance with the way he’s leaning into you. after several moments he pulls away and you almost chase after his lips, that is until you hear the ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ from other spectators, reminding you that you are in fact in public and the people surrounding you probably don’t want to see you and sunghoon devouring each other. 

a sour expression makes its way onto sunghoons face, and he grabs your hand before nodding in the direction that you came from - a clear indication that he wants to get out of here.

the two of you find his car in idle on a semi-busy side street and you both slip into the back; initially you had planned on leaving the middle seat empty to separate the two of you, but sunghoon wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you beside him. you tell sunghoon’s chauffeur your address, and he nods before rolling up the partition to give the two of you some privacy and taking off down the busy road of the strip.

“you know you made my wish come true back there.”

“what, when i asked you to teach me the art of gambling?”

he bites his lower lip to abstain from laughing before teasingly pushing your shoulder, “you know what i mean.”

“was it when i did this?” in a bold move (for you), you grasp his jaw with your acrylic nails and kiss him with much more lust and passion than you did in front of the bellagio. his hand instantaneously moves up to cup the side of your face, and you manage to pull a quiet moan from him at the suddenness of your actions. 

his teeth nip at your bottom lip gently and your mouths move in tandem with each other, both of you acting as if the other is your only source of oxygen that you can’t pull away from. you slip your tongue past his teeth and lips and into his mouth, where you can slightly taste the spearmint gum he spit out before the two of you got back into his car. a desperate whine escapes your throat when he pulls away from you.

“open your mouth,” you comply, “good girl.”

in one swift motion he spits into your open mouth, and you feel his saliva glide down your tongue to the back of your throat. you close your mouth and swallow. sunghoon keeps his grip on your jaw, allowing his thumb to caress your cheek before swiping it across your bottom lip in a silent plea to let him in. you take his thumb in your mouth, his eyes trained on the way your puffy lips are wrapped around his digit. a string of saliva connects his thumb to your lips when he pulls his hand away, and in the dim lighting you catch a glimpse of your sparkly red lipstick smeared across his knuckle. 

when you stop at a red light his hand wraps around the back of your neck and he kisses you again; in your head you thank whatever higher power there is above that the car’s windows are tinted, so no curious outsider could peek in and see what the two of you are up to.

deciding to test the waters, you sneak your hand down his torso to the waistline of sunghoon’s pants, hesitating slightly before reaching out to palm his crotch through his clothes. the action causes his hips to jerk slightly, and he places his own clammy hand on top of yours to guide you as you massage his cock through his slacks. 

a metallic clink! reverberates off of the inside of the car as you unbuckle your seatbelt and somewhat sprawl your upper body across sunghoon’s lap; your hands gripping this thighs to stabilise yourself with your face only mere centimetres away from his clothed erection. noticing that you’re in a bit of an awkward position, sunghoon takes the initiative to unbutton his pants, inch them down just a little, and pull his cock out.

lengthwise he’s definitely above average, and his tip is flushed red and leaking beads of precum already. he sticks his palm out and you spit in it, watching like a hawk as he uses your saliva as lube to pump himself a few times before sitting back and letting you steal the show.

you playfully lick his tip, as if to taunt him that you could do more, but you don’t really feel like it. his thighs twitch underneath your hands, so you finally relent and wrap your lips around sunghoon’s cock, feeling him squirm in pleasure above you. 

with one hand he’s gripping the door handle, his hold so tight that his knuckles have turned a ghastly shade of white. with the other he’s gripping the back of your neck, clearly trying to refrain from shoving your head to the base of his dick - so you do it yourself, and take his entire length into your mouth.

the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat and you can’t help but gag, and sunghoon hisses when you dig your nails into his pant clad thigh.

“keep it down,” he groans, “unless you want my chauffeur to hear you gagging on my cock.” 

an involuntary whine escapes you, and your hips shift in your seat. you can hear the smugness in his voice when he says: “you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

you continue to deepthroat him in the back of his car, trying not to gag or cough too loudly when the vehicle goes over a pothole or a bump in the road and his cock is shoved deeper than you’re expecting. each and every time his tip bumps the back of your throat you swallow around him, trying to suck back the mix of spit and precum that threatens to spill past your lips.

“fuck y/n,” a dull thud sounds as sunghoon lolls his head against the headrest behind him, “feels so fucking good.” the hand on the back of your neck starts to help guide your ministrations, and his hips start to buck up ever so lightly into your mouth.

you can tell sunghoon’s close to finishing by the way his moans get louder and more desperate, and you’re tempted to pull your mouth off of his cock and call him out for being a hypocrite for telling you to be quiet not too long ago. nevertheless, you persevere and continue to suck him off, allowing him to roll his hips up into your face.

at this point your hips and legs are cramping up and your jaw is aching from having been open for so long, so you let sunghoon take complete control and allow him to fuck your mouth until he cums, which is only a few moments later.

he finishes with a guttural groan before spilling his seed down your bruised throat; you try not to grimace at the taste before swallowing obediently. pulling yourself off of his cock, you use your thumb to wipe the spit and semen off of the corners of your mouth, and you sit back and watch sunghoon tuck himself back into his pants while trying to catch his breath.

the car shakes slightly as sunghoon’s driver accidentally bumps into the curb, and when you look outside the tinted car window you find that you’ve arrived at your apartment building. perfect timing.

being the gentleman that he is, sunghoon offers to walk you to your door - and who are you to say no. although you find a feeling of self-consciousness creeping up on you, what with your apartment being so drab in comparison to just about every aspect of sunghoon’s life. you try to push those negative thoughts away as you step out of the elevator and unlock your apartment door.

“i like it!” sunghoon preaches as he stands in your entryway, looking around as you toss your keys onto the kitchen counter. you give him a sarcastic side-eye. “i’m serious! it’s… cozy.”

you make your way over to where he’s standing, and he smirks as you press your chest against his, one of his arms snakes around your waist. your tummy flutters as he presses one, two, three chaste kisses to your pouted lips.

“goodnight, sunghoon.”

you move to close the door, but he suddenly objects and sticks his arm out to block your actions.

“wait! y/n i’d uh… i’d really like to see you again. maybe tomorrow night, i-if that’s ok with you of course?”

it’s in this moment that you can finally see this rich playboy facade start to crack. it prides you to see that the man whose dick you just sucked in the back of a car minutes ago has been reduced to a flustered stuttering mess because of you. cute. 

“i think i can make that work.”

“ok! that’s great, i’ll send someone to come pick you up maybe around, uhh 8:00 pm? is that ok?”

you nod, “it’s a date.”

his eyes widen at this, and before he has time to respond you close your front door.

ding dong!

what the fuck? who on earth is at your door this early in the morning? ugh, it’s probably the delivery guy. if you ignore him then he’ll just drop off your package and fuck off. 

ding dong ding dong ding dong!!!!

you sigh in frustration and pull yourself out of bed seeing as whoever’s at your door doesn’t seem to be going away anytime soon. opening your door just a crack, you see soojin standing there with a plastic bag in her hand.

“i brought waffles!” she announces before inviting herself into your apartment and sitting at the island in your kitchen. she opens up the plastic bag she brought and pulls out two take out containers of waffles, two drinks, and lots of syrup and butter. “come, sit. eat.”

grabbing cutlery from the drawer in your kitchen, you nonchalantly rub the sleep out of your eyes while making your way over to her, “why are you here so early?”

“dude, it’s noon,” she shoots you a judgemental glare, “and i’m here because i want to know all about your little date last night!” 

“i would hardly call it a date,” your mouth is stuffed with waffle so your words come out choked. you know that if you tell soojin what actually happened with sunghoon last night, she's going to make it a way bigger deal than it is. 

“you’re lying to me.”

“what? no i’m not.”

“yes you are y/n. i’ve known you for years and can instantly recognize the way you scrunch your nose and refuse to make eye contact when you’re lying to me.”

shit. she’s got you there.

“ok fine! he took me to the bellagio, we kissed and then,” you huff and roll your eyes, “isuckedhisdickinthebackofhiscar…”

“YOU WHAT??!! oh my god y/n this is crazy!! i can’t believe you’re getting it on with a hot rich guy!”

“we are not getting it on, he just likes me,” you stare at your waffles, “and he invited me to his place for dinner tonight.”

soojin chokes on her drink, “what the fuck!!?? why didn’t you tell me! we need to go pick out what you’re going to wear.” and with that she practically jumps up from where he’s sitting and heads into your bedroom. when you hear drawers being flung open and hangers clattering to the floor you decide to do damage control and head into your bedroom before soojin destroys it. 

some time later, the two of you settle on a basic black satin slip dress and knee high go-go boots.

“come on, let's do your makeup.” soojin excitedly starts to scan your vanity.

“dude it’s literally one in the afternoon, he’s not picking me up until eight.”

she looks defeated at first, but then turns to you with a smile, “cillian murphy movie marathon while we pass the time?”, and who are you to say no to that.

it’s around 6:30 pm when red lights finishes, and you decide you should start getting ready. in the shower you do the works - shaving, exfoliating, washing, scrubbing - and when you step out it feels like you have a whole new layer of squeaky clean skin. soojin pampers you and does your hair and makeup, opting for a subtle yet sexy look.

at 2 minutes to 8:00 pm, you slip on your boots and ask soojin to give you a once-over to make sure everything looks good (it does).

“i’ll be here mooching off of your crave subscription and raiding your fridge. now shoo!” your friend practically kicks you out of your own apartment. when you're halfway down the hallway to the elevator you hear soojin shout: “and if you don’t spend the night there getting railed i’m going to be very disappointed in you!”

the familiar rolls royce ghost is waiting for once again when you exit your apartment. sunghoon’s chauffeur, who you find out is named anthony, asks you what music you’d like to listen to on the drive. you ask for lay all your love on me by ABBA, and slouch in your seat as anthony takes off down the street that’s beginning to light up for the evening crowd.

upon your arrival at sunghoon’s place you see him waiting on the street for you. he’s dressed in a suit and tie, and although he looks phenomenal you’re practically dying to see him in some casual clothes.

“don’t give me shit about being late this time, park.” you taunt as you step out of his car, and anthony drives off. 

“i wasn’t going to! in fact, i told anthony to take his sweet time since he’d be carrying precious cargo.” he pecks your cheek, and you feel heat rush to your ears and the apples of your cheeks.

you step into an elevator that’s the size of your living room, with glass floors, gold buttons and a chandelier. sunghoon reaches a slender finger out and presses the button for the top floor, because of course he lives in a fucking penthouse.

when the golden doors slide open, you're met with a narrow entryway which sunghoon leads you down before opening his front door. “welcome to the park penthouse!” 

glamorous is an understatement when it comes to sunghoon’s living quarters. the ceilings are high and the floors are made of marble that’s so bright it kind of hurts your eyes to look at it directly. you’re not given much time to take it all in before sunghoon’s ushering you into what you can only assume is the living room. three leather couches make a semi-circle around a glass coffee table, all facing a large cobblestone fireplace and massive flatscreen tv. bookshelves stretch to the ceiling on either side of the fireplace, and in the far corner of the room you see a small silver safe, about the size of a microwave, embedded into the wall.

“i didn’t think rich people actually had safe’s in their walls,” you walk over to it, “i thought it was just a thing in movies.” sunghoon laughs at your statement before grasping the metal handle of the safe. he makes no effort to hide the pinpad, so you watch him type in the code and open the hefty metal door. the inside is quite literally something out of a spy movie; it’s filled bricks of cash stacked on top of eachother bound with elastic.

“woah,” you somewhat whisper, “how much is in there?”

sunghoon ponders your question, “couple hundred thousand. it’s my emergency stash. you know, in case i get into a really bad car accident, or - god forbid - lose a real big bet while gambling.”

just looking at the amount of cash is insane to you, and your brain hurts as you think of what you could spend all of that money on. luckily, sunghoon shuts the door, and you hear the lock click. “come on, i have more to show you.”

a long oak table is placed in the centre of the room, decorated with vases filled with flowers and gold candlesticks that hold tall dark red candles. only two spots at the table are set, each having a large silver platter at the centre with a fork and knife one either side. a crystal wine glass is also set to the right-hand side of both seats, filled half-way with dark red cabernet sauvignon.

“i didn’t know you could cook.” you turn to look at sunghoon, whose eyes widen. “oh, i didn’t make anything. i had jay come over to do it all - he’s a really good cook, you know.”

“i guess i’m about to find out.” you pull out one of the chairs at the dining table and sit down, a look of shame briefly flashing across sunghoon’s face as he realises that was his job. nevertheless, he shakes off his nerves and takes the seat across from you. the two of you simultaneously take the silver lid off 

“i was gonna do something fancier like steak,” he scratches the back of his neck, “but i didn’t know if you were a vegetarian… or something.” 

you assure him that it’s fine and that pasta is always your go-to, which seems to ease his nerves. it turns out that sunghoon was right and jay actually is a phenomenal chef; too bad he isn’t here for you to praise him in person. while you shovel pasta into your mouth sunghoon sips his wine and continues to act jittery. you decide it would be best to start up some playful banter since he seemed so comfortable doing that last night.

“i’m sorry, is it like, rude for me to ask where you get all of your money from?” you trace the stem of your wine glass with your finger before picking it up, “it’s just that you’re still fairly young, you know.”

he laughs with his mouth full, swallowing his food before responding, “well, my parents are both doctors who would send me money all the time when i first moved out,” he tentatively picks up his fork, “but then we grew apart so i used what i had from them to start gambling.” he goes to eat but then stops as he remembers something, “i also work at a law firm, but it doesn’t pay nearly as well as what i make from gambling at the lucky cat.”

you nod while dragging your fork through the sauce on your plate. a somewhat eerie silence settles over the two of you, and you’re tempted to say ‘your turn’ to get him to ask you a question like he did to you last night.

“hey, i just wanted to say thanks for last night.” his voice is quiet, and suddenly his half-eaten pasta is more interesting than you, his date, are. 

is he talking about…?

“uh, what part of last night are you thanking me for?” you think you know the answer, but you like seeing him squirm a little.

“come on y/n, don’t make me say it.” he groans and lets his fork clatter against his plate, causing you to laugh.

“i won’t! just teasing.” that same silence falls over the pair of you, but when you peer at sunghoon you can tell he wants to say something else.

“i’d uh,” he chuckles, “i’d like to return the favour, if that’s ok with you.”

oh. oh. 

you try to hide the way you shift in your seat and swallow the nervous lump in your throat; sunghoon’s gaze on you is unwavering.

“right now?”

his pupils seem to darken and dilate at your question - although both of you seem to be in agreeance that it wasn’t a question, and moreso a confirmation. the two of you seem to shove your dishes to the side at the same time, sending silverware clattering to the floor as you crawl across the table and mash your lips against sunghoon’s.

right off the bat this kiss is more desperate and lustful than all of the previous ones you’ve shared. you shift so your sitting with your thighs hanging off of the table, opening your legs briefly to let sunghoon step between them before wrapping them around his waist.

you kiss and bite at his wine-stained lips that taste so tart but so addictive. your hips are flush against his and you can feel that he’s already semi-hard through his pants - no wonder he was so flustered during dinner.

the cool air of sunghoon’s apartment chills you when he lifts your slip dress up and over your shoulders in one swift motion before tossing it to the floor. noticing the goosebumps erupt on your skin, sunghoon nudges your shoulder to get you to lay back against the table. he reaches to his left and grabs a candlestick.

“let me warm you up.”

you watch the muscles and tendons in his wrist flex as he tips the candle ever so slightly, allowing splotches of the dark red wax to drip onto your chest. the hot paraffin stings and burns but also makes you feel warm and excited and so good. sunghoon keeps the candle pointed at your body, making sure the open flame is a safe distance away from your skin. he moves his hand lower, and you jolt slightly when you feel the hot wax make contact with the sensitive skin between your tits.

warmth spreads across your skin as you feel sunghoon make a trail of wax down your stomach, to your belly button, and then stopping at the elastic waistband of your panties. as the wax dries it hardens, tightening your skin underneath it. the initial sting of the heat is gone, in its place a dull burning sensation that has your pulse quickening. 

your vision clouds when sunghoon touches you for the first time, using his middle and ring fingers to massage your cunt through your ruined underwear.

“fuck, you’re already so wet for me. i bet these panties were soaked before you even got here, huh?”

before you can say anything you feel a tug and your hips and hear the ripping of fabric; when you look down, you see sunghoon tossing your now torn thong to the floor. bummer, that was a cute one.

heat rushes to your face as you watch sunghoon scan your nearly naked figure, his eyes feasting on the vast expanse of your bare skin as if you’re the full-course meal he wants for dinner (sorry chef jay). 

he places his searing hot palms on your knees and pries your legs open to expose your dripping wet cunt. you keep your gaze fixed on the ceiling, too worried that if you glance at him while he’s staring at your pussy you’ll become too flustered. the undeniable swish of a jacket being removed can be heard, and when you spare a glance at sunghoon he’s rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt before diving in between your legs.

he doesn’t hesitate a second before diving into you, and you gasp and whine as you feel his tongue exploring your most private area. just the sound of him licking your pussy has your head spiralling, your nails scratching at the varnished countertop of sunghoon’s dining table before you move your hands to grasp at his hair.

your thighs start to burn as you open your legs as wide as you can, giving sunghoon the utmost access to your body. he uses his tongue to toy with your clit before he wraps his lips around it and sucks, shooting bolts of pleasure to every nerve in you.

when he slips his tongue into your hole you hiss and roll your hips into his face. sunghoon groans against you and continues to lick up your essence as if you’re a dripping popsicle on a hot summer day.

through pants and whines you manage to ask him: “do i taste good?”

“fuck, so good honey. the sweetest thing i’ve ever had.”

you scratch at his scalp and tangle your fingers in his hair as he greedily makes out with your sopping cunt, the wet sucking sounds echoing off of the walls of his vast dining room. he directs his focus back to your clit, causing your back to arch and your chest to heave; with every move you make you can feel the dried wax crack and pull at your skin. 

it feels like your skin is burning up as your orgasm approaches, the familiar inferno starting in the very pit of your stomach before spreading across your body like wildfire.

“fuck hoonie!” your cries only seem to spur sunghoon on, and you're so so so close to cumming - before the fire in between your legs is doused when he pulls away.

it feels like you’re the victim of some sick prank, waiting for the camera crew to jump out and scream ‘gotcha!’ while laughing at you lying on sunghoon’s dining table in desperation.

“w-what?” you catch sunghoon’s gaze as he fully stands up, his lips swollen and red and wet. he doesn’t respond, just grabs you by the waist before picking you up bridal style and carrying you further into his penthouse.

your first look at his bedroom is a blur since right after you enter sunghoon tosses you onto his bed. the sheets and pillowcases are navy silk, and it must be king-sized since it’s about triple the size of your twin bed at home.

for a moment you think he’s going to pick up where he left off and dive back into your cunt, but instead he captures your lips in a tender yet searing kiss. you don’t know how to feel about tasting yourself on his lips and tongue; it’s sensual and arousing, but also makes you feel bashful. 

you realise you’re only wearing your go-go boots and your bra - a weird combo, but soon both of them are discarded onto the floor of sunghoon’s bedroom.

the man in question towers above your now completely bare form as you lay sprawled out on the cool sheets of his bed. “you look,” he reaches a veiny hand up to loosen his tie, “so delicious right now.”

that does a number on you.

with little regard to benignity you pop the buttons on sunghoon’s dress shirt open one by one, and then try not to drool as he reveals his bare chest to you for the first time ever. his skin is smooth from his shoulders all the way down to his v-line, and you finally get to see that he has thick biceps (!!!!!).

in one hand he’s still gripping his tie, and you feel impossibly turned on as he crawls on top of you, the box frame creaking slightly under the weight from the two of you. sitting back on his knees, he gives you the same command as yesterday: “open your mouth.” and you do, again.

he places the taught fabric of his tie in your mouth, and you bite down. your face is shoved into the crook of his neck as he leans forward and ties the two ends in a tight knot at the back of your head, creating a gag. leaning back onto his knees once more, he takes a second to admire his masterpiece - you.

“is this,” he takes a second to regain his composure, “is this ok?”

you nod and try to say yes as best as you can, but it comes out as a warbled ‘mah’ due to the makeshift gag restricting your ability to speak as you normally do.

“good. just uh, tap my arm three times if you want me to stop, ok?” you make the same muffled noise in agreement, rubbing your thighs together for some much needed relief as his hands work to unbutton his pants and yank them, along with his boxers, to the floor.

in the dim lighting provided by the lamp on sunghoon’s bedside allows you to appreciate every dip and imperfection of his body, along with the way the veins in his forearms pop out as he reaches into his bedside table to grab a small foil packet.

using his teeth, sunghoon rips open the condom before sliding it onto himself and giving his length a few pumps. his eyes meet yours for a brief second as he positions himself on top of you, the tip of his cock nudging your clit ever so slightly and sending a jolt of pleasure through your veins. 

his cock easily slips into your already-sensitive cunt and you bite down on the tie in your mouth as you and sunghoon moan in tandem, the fabric already becoming wet with your saliva. he sinks his teeth into your neck and you can feel his pointed canines pinch your sensitive skin - maybe he’s a cullen. 

for a moment he just rests there, no doubt regaining his composure so he can fuck you into his mattress. lucky for him, you’re still sensitive after your last orgasm was ripped away from you, so it shouldn’t even take that much effort to make you cum. 

it feels like the world is moving in slow motion when sunghoon finally pulls his hips away from you, just enough so the tip of his cock is still inside your cunt, before pushing himself all the way back in. your hands explore the vast expanse of his toned back, feeling the muscles move and flex as he slowly picks up his pace.

soon his hips are thrusting into yours in a quick but deep motion, his movements so languid and precise your pussy is already slick and throbbing. your clit is begging for attention, and you almost cry when sunghoon eagles his hips just right so his pelvis rubs against it with each grind. the tie gag in your mouth rubs at the corners of your lips and you attempt to whine sunghoon’s name, tell him that you need more.

he throws his head back in ecstasy before burying his face in between your tits, licking at biting at the skin he marked with hot wax not too long ago. “your cunt is just milking my cock, sweetheart. so fucking tight.”

the cavity between your bodies becomes slick with sweat, and the sound of skin slapping against skin is much more prevalent when sunghoon picks up the pace of his thrusts once again. your legs are aching and you yelp as sunghoon grips the flesh of your thigh like it’s a slab of meat. his back is covered in long scratches courtesy of your acrylics and you’re sure your chest is littered with splotchy red marks from his teeth.

the fire deep inside of you is ignited once again, and you try your best to roll your hips upward in time with sunghoon’s movements as you chase your impending orgasm. sunghoon’s moans are equivalent to the pitch they were at when he was about to cum down your throat in the back of his car, only now they’re much louder and guttural without the fear of being caught in the act getting in the way.

when your orgasm finally starts to wash over you it feels like you're suspended in mid-air, waiting for someone to reel you in, to bring you back to reality. a feeling that can only be described as sweet, sweet relief floods your senses, leaving you a whimpering, twitching mess. sunghoon groans loudly on top of you and you feel him fill up the condom inside of you, his head hanging forward to rest in the crook of your neck once again. two hot sticky tears spill from your eyes, and you barely register the now soggy tie being removed from your mouth. 

your vision is blurry and your ears are ringing and when the warmth of sunghoon’s body disappears you want to cry out for him to come back. luckily he does, and you feel his presence beside you and you try to blink away your tears.

the ceiling slowly starts to come back into focus, and you can feel sunghoon leisurely picking off the dried up bits of blood red wax that are still stuck to your skin. 

you hear sunghoon ask you something, and you pull yourself out of your post-sex haze to listen to him. “hmm?”

“i said do you want to just… spend the night?”

you act as if you’re rolling the idea around in your head for a minute, but you already know the answer.

“i mean soojin told me she’ll be disappointed if i come home tonight, so i guess so.”

arm candy.

your new delta-kind nickname, courtesy of soojin. bestowed upon you when you and sunghoon walked into the lucky cat hand in hand so you could drop off your letter of resignation. soojin screamed so loud the whole strip probably heard her.

“you’re like his trophy wife.”

“we’re not even married?”

after spending the night at sunghoon’s penthouse you never really left. it became a gradual process of moving all of your stuff from your apartment into his, solidified by the termination of your lease - which the two of you celebrated by popping champagne and fucking on his balcony.

after some time the two of you fell into a sort of routine; he’d spend the day working at his law firm and you’d use his black amex card to go shopping - eventually he just made you a shareholder of his bank account. 

inspired by your newfound relationship with sunghoon, soojin worked up the courage to make a move on jay, who admitted that he had felt a connection since he first laid eyes on her (cute). the four of you spend nights out on the strip getting drunk and making bad decisions, acting like the city is your playground.

you wear skirts more and more and panties less and less, a decision that has led to you getting tongue-fucked by sunghoon in the bathroom of the lucky cat’s VIP longue on more than one occasion. he spoils you with jewellry from tiffany’s and vivienne westwood and with bags from coach and hermes; it’s likely that there isn’t a square foot in sunghoon’s penthouse where the two of you haven’t had sex.

you take tabs of acid off of his fingertips in the backs of limousines and town cars before hopping from club to club, allowing your brain to turn into a puddle of mush for a few hours to free you from your worries and woes (not that you have many).

sunghoon’s winning streak at the lucky cat keeps him rich to the point where he’s contemplating quitting his job at the law firm (he hasn’t yet, but it’s hot on his mind). you like to  watch him and his friends gamble, and you’ve even started to understand how the games work - except for pai gow poker, that one still confuses you. ever since you and soojin have started coming to the lucky cat as customers instead of barista’s, you get a barrage of dirty looks from your past coworkers.

“they’re just jealous,” sunghoon told you before checking his cards during a game of baccarat, “jealous that you’re living the american dream!”

and then he lost.

you had decided to spend the night at home to recover from drinking one too many mimosas at brunch, and sunghoon went out to the lucky cat with jay, soojin, jake and heeseung. the night started off normal at first, with jay and jake playing a couple rounds each on the slot machines before everyone gathered around to watch sunghoon play a round of craps. it was jake who told him to bet bigger than he ever has before - he’s always won, why would this game be any different?

“it’s bad y/n,” soojin tells you through the phone, “like hundreds of thousands of dollars kind of bad. it’s gonna take him a while to come back from this - both his ego and his bank account.”

when sunghoon got home you didn’t really know what to do. it felt as if there was a ghost hanging around your apartment; his eyes were glazed over and when you ask him if he’s okay and if he wants to talk he chooses to ignore you and locks himself in his office. 

you wait up for hours, fighting off sleep so you can be there for him when he comes out and wants to talk. at some point your nerves get the best of you and you head into his office, only for him to lash out at you like he never has before. sure, you and sunghoon and gotten into petty fight before, but the sheer look of anger in his eyes is enough to have you slamming the door shut with tears in your eyes.

you lay on your shared bed fully clothed, not sleeping a wink. it’s still nighttime, and your head is as busy as the strip is. staring at the fragments of yourself that you see scattered throughout sunghoon’s room, you begin to weigh your options. 

part of you expected sunghoon to remain undefeated forever, even though you know that’s not possible. but why did his first loss have to be so detrimental? and are you really prepared to live such an unpredictable lifestyle for god knows how long? pushing yourself off of your mattress, you grab a slip of paper and begin to write a note while trying to avoid smudging the ink with your tears.

hoonie, 

i love you, but it was never meant to be. 

what happens in vegas, stays in vegas. 

good bye.

y/n

it’s nearing 4:00 am when you quietly gather your belongings, take all of the cash from sunghoon’s emergency safe, and get in a taxi headed to the airport. sin city taglist: @deobitifull @n-wjns @starstruckluminarytale @smuchsmut @idkwiexist @sjakewrld @muffinminnie @jeondolly @kimmchijjajang @drunkjaked @lalalalawon