Mischief (definitely Not) Managed!

SHE PLAYS BASS!

synopsis : prince sunghoon had a boring life. never had he ever gone out with his friends or fallen in love like a normal teenager (not like he liked the idea of falling in love). instead, he was forced to prepare for when he would be crowned king. but when your band, le sserafim is invited to play at the royal palace. his perspective on love would change all because of you.

featuring : le sserafim, hyung line of enhypen and a mention of jungwon

warnings : swearing, angst, parents w broken relationships, crying, kissing, reader wears makeup for performance, sunghoon is REALLY bad at conversations, will update as writing!

wc : 8.4k (woww!)

pairing : prince!sunghoon x afab!reader

a/n : it’s out!! sorry for the wait everyone and its a little weird but i hope you enjoy! thank u sm to @redm4ri for reading over it and making sure everything is good 🫶 also if you find anything we both missed… suck it up and ignore it

taglist : @chaechae-23 @ssjxmh @favorjtecrime @ineedsomezzz @aki1e @chaewon-slays @blu3ming-hoon @sd211 @foxsunoo @yunjinluvrr @homelycat @222brainrot @shinrjj @harufluff @viyqe @yoonsaves @sweetjaemss @jiawji

perm taglist : @jwnghyuns @ja4hyvn @trsrina @redm4ri @badmuni

01 NO CELESTIAL WAS ALWAYS YOUR FAVORITE SONG TO PERFORM.

you enjoyed playing the guitar riffs and singing until your lungs went out. you enjoyed the small portion of choreography you had and the energy it brought to the crowd. but as much as you enjoyed the melody itself, you enjoyed the lyrics even more.

to you, no celestial was about breaking the standards and just being yourself (ex. lyrics “angel-like perfection, bye” in first verse). but the song also meant that you can’t be perfect, and to not be afraid when someone realizes that. no celestial gave you a sense of freedom, like nothing else mattered but the sounds of your voices. and you would do anything to have that freedom.

well, it was the kind of freedom you already had until the attention’s eye was on you. now, you couldn’t even meet up with an old friend before someone turned it into a dating rumor. it was hard to ignore those rumors and continue on, but that was what you had to do to make it far.

and, you weren’t sure if it was worth it until now. staring in shock as you open the intricate blue envelope decorated with gold lining. on the back, is text stating “The Royal Palace”. Yunjin squeals in excitement as you carefully pull out the paper, reading the contents hidden inside.

Dear, Source Music

It has come to our attention that your band, Le Sserafim has been spiking in popularity in our kingdom. As the Prince’s birthday is coming soon, we would like to formally invite Le Sserafim to perform at the Royal Palace on December 8th to entertain our guests. Please arrive at 3:30 pm or before as you’ll be performing at 4:15. All food and drinks will be provided for you, outfits will also be provided and we’ll have to schedule an appointment to get some measurements. Please tell us what kind of concept to go for, and we’ll do our best to achieve that. We trust that the band will perform well as always. Thank you.

Sincerely,

Yang Jungwon

you look at your members in disbelief as they do the same before kazuha breaks the silence.

“we’re going to perform at the royal palace!” she excitedly squeals, as the room explodes into excited laughter, deciding what songs will be performed.

“well we have to perform fearless! it’s our hit song,” yunjin begs, trying to get nods of approval from the group's leader.

chaewon sighs, looking back at yunjin, “we’ll have to see how many songs we can perform and if they want us to perform any particular ones. we can ask our boss at our next meeting. he’ll probably have all the details we need,” she smiles warmly at her members, stretching out her arms and engulfing them in a warm hug.

“wait- when’s our next meeting?”

🎸

no celestial was not on the setlist. nor did your boss even think about performing it.

as the stubborn girl you are, you immediately asked why no celestial wasn’t on the list, and your boss laughs at you. stating that the palace didn’t choose the song and it wasn’t the right place for it. you thought that the song would be able to be performed anywhere (except, maybe a funeral but that’s not the point) but it apparently went against palace rules. it was stupid to you, isn’t that what the song’s telling you not to do? follow the rules?

you were surprised the great mermaid was picked, considering the amount of ‘foul language’ in the song. but since the prince was turning 21 (or 20 you couldn’t remember) you were sure a swear word wouldn’t hurt him.

it wasn’t until late at night when it hit you, you were performing for the prince in a month.

02 SUNGHOON WAS NOT EXCITED ABOUT HIS BIRTHDAY

all the decorations, outfits, and people were too much for him.

yes, he loved having the party, but having every single person he’s had any interaction with invited? just seemed over the top. he wished only his closest friends to come, but every year his parents would try so hard to marry him off to some random girl his age, which always ruined his mood (and his plan to have a small birthday party). sunghoon knew this year wouldn’t be different, so he didn’t look forward to it, simple as that.

when his parents revealed they were inviting a band to perform on his birthday. his lips had slightly upturned. would it be tomorrow by together? or seventeen? maybe even red velvet? his face immediately dropped when he heard the name. who the hell was le sserafim?

after he was dismissed sunghoon immediately looked up the band that was recently introduced to him, playing the first few songs that popped up.

out of the seven songs he listened to, he liked the song “sour grapes” the most. sunghoon didn’t look much into the lyrics of songs, as a song was just a melody he sang along to. but the rare times sunghoon did (which was when he was listening to sour grapes), he didn’t understand most of the lines. what did they mean by love is sour grapes? because to him, he didn’t think love resembled any kind of fruit.

well, what did love resemble to him? sunghoon didn’t know. after seeing his parents grow apart over the years, sunghoon wasn’t one to ask about the subject. and nor did he ever want to be.

the small number of lyrics he understood, made it even more obvious why love wasn’t that appealing to him. it would always end in heartbreak, which is why he vowed to himself to never fall in love. but deep down, he knew it was something he could never admit.

he was scared.

03 BREAKS WERE YOUR FAVORITE PART ABOUT PRACTICE

after practicing for three hours straight, chaewon decided for an hour's break. of course, no one disagreed which left you immediately leaving the building and deciding to walk around the kingdom.

the town was always a safe place for you to walk around since the palace is near your building and heavily guarded. after getting drinks for yourself and your members, you decided to head back to the practice building.

as you walked around you always stopped to watch some young kids playing outside, enjoying the laughter and happiness they brought to voice. you smile at their enjoyment, amused at the stupid games they make up.

you try to push your body away, as your head wants to keep watching. until you bump into someone, making you drop the drinks you had previously bought for your members.

“oh my god i’m so sorry! did it spill on you?” you frantically ask, crouching on the floor to pick up the wet cups on the ground.

you stand up to see a man around your age, his fluffy brown hair slightly covering his eyes and clothes too formal for a walk around the town. his face seems too familiar, almost like you’ve seen him before.

“it’s fine, sorry about your drinks, can i get you new ones?” he offers, a slight rasp evident in his voice.

“oh no, it’s okay! but do i know you? you look really familiar,” you ask curiously.

his state quickly turns to panic, before answering “n-no i don’t think so.” he curses himself for being so nervous.

“oops! sorry then, well my name’s y/n nice to meet you!” you offer him a hand, which he shakes.

“my name’s sunghoon nice to meet you too.” shit did i just say sunghoon? he realizes, horrified at his clumsiness.

“oh like prince sunghoon?” you mention, flashing him a bright smile.

“yeah haha…” he awkwardly replies, helping you throw away the dripping drinks in your hand. “are you sure? i’m sorry i feel really bad,” he rambles, looking at you with concern.

you swiftly pull out your phone to check the time, realizing you wouldn’t make it back in time if you went back to get drinks. you smile at him, showing him the time on your phone, “i have to be back soon! but maybe if we ever meet again you can pay me back,” you smile, and he smiles back before you run off, waving to him.

fimmies chat

you

lawl i just met the cutest guy !!

sakura

are u forgetting ure semi famous…

eunchae

did u rizz him up

yunjin

do u think y/n rizzed him up

be honest

you

no i didnt forget!! and i did rizz him up so good

yunjin dye.

anyways i didn’t get his number </3

kazuha

did u get his number

oh

chaewon

youre so lucky he didnt recognize u

but come back soon breaks almost over

you

im omw

04 HIS BIRTHDAY CAME SOONER THAN YOU REALIZED

you were too nervous about playing for the palace, you played your bass thousands of times in front of a crowd, you think, doing whatever to calm yourself. you had known all the chords by heart (including no celestial which your band decided to sneak in), you had warmed up your voice, and you had memorized and practiced the dance for hours and hours. you were going to do fine.

when you guys stepped onto the stage all that was heard were claps and a couple of cheers, you quickly made eye contact with the queen giving her a small head nod. you step in a line to bow and introduce yourselves, before getting to your instrument.

the first song you were performing was “the great mermaid”, sakura tapped her drumsticks three times, signaling for you to start the song. your hands instinctively moved to the right chords, strumming accordingly. as each chord passed, more was to be played. your hands shakily played each one, trying to sing your parts as stable as you could.

you felt a sigh of relief when the song ended, you placed your guitar on your hips, resting your hands while listening to the audience's boring claps. no shouts or cheers, just repeating claps, prim and proper. as chaewon introduces your next song you scan the audience, locking eyes with the young man on the throne, wait-

was that sunghoon?

your eyes widen as you hurry to your position in the dance, waiting for the music to start.

was sunghoon the prince? why didn’t he have a disguise? or some kind of security? did i seriously meet the prince on accident and didn’t notice?

you quickly came back to life, focusing on the dance you were currently doing.

your hips had to be on point, your legs had to be fully extended and in place, your arms had to be in the exact place, and your facial expression had to be on point. you hoped your expression looked how you imagined it.

you glanced at your manager noticing his approving, almost proud smile. you almost smile in response, containing it in quickly moving into formation.

the next few songs were a blur until you got to no celestial.

you nervously spoke into your microphone, introducing the song.

“for our last song we are performing a song called “no celestial”! this song is similar to our first one “the great mermaid” so if you enjoyed that song, you might like this one.” you wink at the audience, as you notice the manager giving you a look of disbelief.

you ignore it. adjusting your bass, starting up the next song. once you got to the pre-chorus you could feel your manager's glare burning in your scalp, you glance at sakura, exchanging nervous glances as yunjin sings her heart out, without a care in the world. by the time the song ends, you’re exhausted, and your legs and arms feel overworked,

you say your goodbyes and bow to the crowd as you walk off into the dressing room, where your manager waits with a menacing stare.

“hi sir…” you hesitantly start, he raises his left eyebrow at you.

“who came up with the idea of playing no celestial? the queen was giving me dirty looks! you’re lucky i’m not getting thrown in jail tomorrow. did you come up with the idea of playing no celestial for the palace y/n?” he yells, fuming with anger.

you look down at your feet, as your members watch, unable to prevent anything.

“yes i did.” you quietly answer.

“what’d you say? god you need to speak louder y/n,” he bluntly scolds.

“i said, yes i did,” you speak menacingly, he looks taken aback, almost surprised.

“this is your last warning y/n, one more and you’re out of the band, okay? i’m sick and tired of you taking your position for granted.”

“yes sir.” you bitterly answer, your body twitching trying to hold in your tears.

“now go! i can’t look at you right now,” he sighs.

you take your chance to quickly walk out of the dressing room, avoiding any servants walking around (and your members if they followed you). you slowly push open a door and find yourself on a path, surrounded by flowers and bushes tailored by the most perfectionist workers. each step there seem to be more and more plants unknown to you. you stop to look at a certain flower, reading the name on the index.

“the alstroemeria caught your eye?”

you jump at the sound, turning around to see (prince) sunghoon, walking next to you with a grin. you quickly bow, wiping your tears “oh! i’m so sorry for being here, i don’t know if i’m allowed here, so i’ll go!” you ramble, his smirk growing at the sight of you.

“it’s okay, y/n right? you did really well today,” he looks you up and down, slightly biting his lip.

“thank you, sir! happy birthday to you too.”

“no need for formal names, sunghoon is fine.”

your eyebrows furrow at his words, tilting your head slightly, “are you sure? it’s really no bother.”

he smirks at your comment, “you seemed fine with it two weeks ago,”

your eyes widen as his grin switches to a sly smirk, “i just didn’t recognize you,” you argue. “you don’t recognize the prince?” he raises one eyebrow. you huff at his response, opting to change the subject instead.

“shall we walk?” you ask, referring to the path you were earlier following. he nods as he starts leading the way through the abnormally large garden, making sure you stay away from any ditches or rocks.

“so, how was our performance? what was your favorite song?” you ask. he doesn’t think for long before deciding.

“sour grapes.”

“no reason why?” you give him a grumpy look which he notices, so he continues. “i like the melody, and lyrics.” he bluntly states, looking back at you for approval. “did you like the last song? no celestial?” you ask, silently praying he did.

“it was good, but i prefer slower songs.”

you nod accordingly, noticing how the loud ballroom music fills your silence, quite different from the songs you had performed. you walk to an empty field, which sunghoon explains that it’s empty because his parents gave up on the garden, deciding to do something better with their time and money. you frown at his story, why give up halfway in?

your legs grow tired, so you ultimately declare a break, in the middle of the field. sunghoon agrees, teasing you for your tired state.

when you sit down comfortable silence overtakes you two. you both calmly listen to the classical music, still clearly heard from the castle. after a few minutes, sunghoon light’s up with an idea, quickly standing up and offering his hand to you.

you, confused, look up at him. “what? are you trying to shake my hand?”

he laughs, “no, but would you, lady y/n have a dance with me?”

you grow flustered by the idea. you’re about to take his hand, before realizing you aren’t sure how to ballroom dance. you shyly mutter, “i don’t know how to properly do it”. he chuckles softly, taking hold of your hand, and pulling you up.

“i’ll teach you.”

sunghoon wasn’t sure why he was feeling so tense when he’d started teaching you. he’d be crazy to think that he wasn’t flustered by the way your hand was on his shoulder and the other intertwined with his, or the fact that you broke out into a smile every time you’d accidentally step on his foot or miss the spin. you were just pretty, he told himself, praying his hands didn’t feel clammy.

his hands were soft, and smooth contrasting with your calloused, and rough hands. but he didn’t seem to mind by the way he was smiling.

soon, your bodies blend together, like the sun and moon, forming an eclipse. taking each step in sync with the other. you can’t find your eyes anywhere else but locked on his. he smiles at you, and you smile back. you two dance until your feet get sore again after several songs. too tired to sit, you lay back on the slightly wet grass, staining the back of your stage outfit. sunghoon grins, laying down next to you, admiring the stars with you.

“sunghoon, do you know any constellations?” you ask, trying to make a familiar shape out of any of them.

sunghoon extends his hand out, scooting closer so you can see. he points to a particularly bright star, then another, and another he repeats that until he puts his hand down.

“that’s the ursa major, you’ve heard of it correct?” he looks over to you.

you chuckle, “of course, i know what the ursa major is. it’s so pretty, isn’t it?”

sunghoon stares at you, your bright smile facing the sky, your happy eyes almost in disbelief you're seeing such a beautiful sight, your makeup for the performance now slightly smudged but still gorgeous on you.

sunghoon thinks you’re the most beautiful star.

his eyes don’t move away from you before responding “yeah it is.”

he diverts his eyes when he sees you looking back at him, “the ursa major is used for navigating, because it completes a full circle around the north star.”

you nod, taking in the bright stars, shining straight at you.

sunghoon notices your silence, deciding to start a new conversation.

“what’s your perspective on love?”

sunghoon quickly realizes his mistake when you choke on your saliva, clearly not expecting him to ask you that question as you sit up. his face turns pale, hurriedly patting your back. “sorry, was that too far?” he asks.

you chuckle at his reaction, your laugh filling up his silence. “no,i just wasn’t expecting it. but i’ll give you an answer.” sunghoon gives you a nod, silently telling you to keep going.

“i think my opinion changes, like when i wrote sour grapes, obviously i didn’t like it. but now i think it’s quite the opposite,” you answer, sunghoon carefully thinks about your words, nodding approvingly.

“what about you sunghoon? what do you think about love?”

he stays silent for a while before answering, “i don’t believe in true love, i think it’s made up,” he states bluntly.

you slightly tilt your head, “and why do you think that?”

“well because my parents they’re-”

you’re caught off guard when the sounds of panicked yelling come to voice. “prince sunghoon? prince sunghoon!” people frantically call, you can see the silhouettes of people running around, trying to spot their beloved prince. you look over to see a just as panicked sunghoon. he quickly stands up, pulling you up too. his expression turns almost disappointed before saying,

“i have to go. it was nice talking to you y/n, i hope we meet again.” he gives you a small smile. taking your hand, and placing a soft kiss on it. he looks into your eyes after, then runs to the voices. leaving you a flustered mess.

walking back to the dressing room happily excited to tell your members about the interaction you just had, you realize why you had even been out in the garden. because you were upset, but sunghoon distracted you from that.

you smile to yourself, sunghoon was quite the distractor.

05 MEETINGS WITH SUNGHOON BECAME ORDINARY

you often found him around the place you first met, waiting in the only pink chair at the cafe. every time the bell above the door rang, his head shot up looking for your familiar face. every time it was you, his eyes crinkled, which you guessed was a smile considering his face was hidden behind a mask. you would always wave to him, setting down your stuff before ordering a drink. this became a routine for you two, you would arrive at two ten and leave at two fifty, to get back to practice on time.

after practice you (and sometimes with eunchae) would always walk to a specific bench near the river, admiring the dark city with the quiet noises of running water. arriving at eight twenty-ish every time, you would place your purse down right in the middle of the bench, so no one would sit next to you.

that may seem selfish, but it was for your safety as an idol. the park was almost always empty, with the exception of people there for the same reason as you, to admire the scenery.

you were almost dumbfounded when you noticed someone sitting at your bench, the body covered by their hood twitching every so often.

your steps slowed down, unsure of what to do. until you heard small sniffles from the body, with broken cries and sounds of snot. you weren’t the most social person you’ve met, so you don’t know why your body led you down to sit next to them, asking them “are you okay?”

the person doesn’t spare a glance at you, staring directly at their shoes instead. you study their face, realizing the person was someone you knew.

“sunghoon? what’s wrong?” you blurt out, his head whips towards yours, his panicked expression clearly gone when he looks at you with soft eyes.

he quickly remembers his state, wiping his tears as quickly as he can. “nothing,” he mumbles, knowing you’ll recognize his blatant lie.

you hesitantly place your hand on his back, softly rubbing it. he lays into you, sobs coming out of his body like a river, coming downstream. your throat tightens hearing the cries that fill the park, disturbing the few that passed by every so often.

noticing his hiccups become less and less apparent. you hesitantly ask, “do you want to talk about it?”

he nods, swallowing the lump in his throat. he chokes out, “it’s just the pressure i have on my shoulders, being the next king and all. i have no one to rely on or even ask for help. my parents are too busy fucking arguing to even give me the time of day, and it’s just so stupid they put all the kingdom’s problems on me because it’s training. when in reality it’s just them being ignorant and immature.”

you nod slightly, pulling him in a soft hug as if he’ll break if you hold any tighter. you wince at the feeling of his damp tears on your sleeve, reminding yourself that there was a more important matter.

you two hold each other in comfortable silence until sunghoon sits up and wipes his tears away. you look at him with worry to which he says, “i don’t really want to talk about it anymore if that’s ok,” he looks at you with uneasy eyes.

you give him a warm smile, “that’s fine sunghoon, do you want to talk about anything?”

“no, i don’t really have anything in mind,” he answers.

you nod trying to fill the void of silence somehow. spotting a moving figure near the waterline, you point to it, “hey there are some ducks!”

sunghoon follows your finger to find the animal you were pointing at. eyes crinkling at the sight. you watch his amused face, not realizing the smile growing on your face.

“didn’t know you were such an animal person,” you chuckle, as sunghoon rolls his eyes.

“it’s not like i see them much, ya-know being trapped in the castle and all that,” he remarks. you throw your hands up in defense, “sorry, forgot about your prince duties for a second.”

“yeah whatever,” sunghoon jokes, turning to gaze at the stars, just like at the castle.

you take this time to look at his face, looking hopefully into the sky. like he was hoping a shooting star would come. you let out a breathy smile, to which he hears turning to look at you, making eye contact.

realizing he caught your stare, you look away, your cold cheeks now growing in temperature.

sunghoon chuckles at your reaction, not realizing his reddening cheeks either. he pulls up his sleeve, glancing at his watch. you lean over, looking for the time stating 9:02.

you gasp loudly, making sunghoon whip his head up, looking at you with confusion. “what happened?” he asks.

“i have to be back by 9:15, curfew and all. i’ll see you soon, okay?” he nods, a smile present as he’s waving goodbye, watching as you take off running to get back on time.

sunghoon can’t seem to get rid of his smile after you leave, touching his upturned lips softly. he isn’t sure why his smile’s still lingering even after you left. he doesn’t smile for a while after jay or jake leaves him.

despite the chilling weather that most definitely left him shivering, he can’t get rid of the warm, fuzzy feeling inside of him. maybe he was sick, or maybe he was just prepared for the cold weather. but he knew there was a different reason. one that he wasn’t ready to admit.

06 YOU HAPPILY JOGGED BACK TO THE BUILDING

imagining your member's reactions when you tell them you had met up with sunghoon once again. you push open your dorm room at 9:12, barely making it back without getting a scolding from chaewon.

entering your shared room with eunchae, you take off your jacket, zipping it up to place it on a hanger.

“y/n! you went to the park without me!” eunchae whines from her bed, stretching out to cover it.

you laugh at her position, mentioning nonchalantly, “sorry eunchae! i saw sunghoon there though.

she dramatically gasps causing all the other members to rush in with looks of worry. “what happened?” chaewon asks, standing in the doorway.

“y/n met up with sunghoon at the park!” she exclaims. yunjin reacts first, running up to you dramatically, shaking you by your shoulders. the members exaggeratedly gasp at you, kazuha even pretends to faint.

you roll your eyes, pretending to busy yourself on your phone.

“y/n you have to tell us what happened!” chaewon hurriedly sits down on the edge of the bed, to which everyone else follows.

“nothing really happened,” you giggle, unable to stop the redness from spreading from your cheeks.

sakura pushes you softly, “oh boo, i know something happened, just tell us what!”

deciding to not mention the crying part, you mention everything else.

watching the member's reactions could honestly entertain you for days. whether it was a simple touch or action you two did together, they always had an exaggerated reaction towards it. when you mentioned how he had caught you staring at him, yunjin had dramatically fallen off the bed. hitting the carpet floor with her hand clutched repeatedly.

after you finished the story, they left as giggly as you came in. you quickly get ready to go to sleep, not wanting the exhaustion to get to you before you brush your teeth.

laying on your bed, you weren’t sure why they were so dramatic over some interactions you had with sunghoon. i mean, you were just a boy and a girl hanging out.

nothing weird about that.

okay sure, he did have really nice hair, pretty eyes, and a really gorgeous smile. and he was so sweet and funny but also comforting, and you like being around him and always wanted to be around him. but what does that have to do with-

oh.

oh.

no, it couldn’t be it, you weren’t that far in deep right?

was love what you were feeling? love for the man you had randomly met in the kingdom? love for the man you had barely met but had spent hours talking to?

yeah, maybe you did love him.

and maybe, you wanted to plant his soft lips onto yours the next time you saw him.

but he was too good for you.

like the brightest, most beautiful star in the sky, loving the dimmest, and unpleasant.

it would never work.

you sigh, pulling over the blanket over your cold body. peacefully closing your eyes.

07 CONFIDING IN SAKURA WAS ONE OF THE WORST IDEAS YOU HAD

you would think the oldest person had the best advice, but truly she was set on you doing one thing.

“confess to him!” sakura exclaims as soon as she hears the news. rolling your eyes at her idea, she lightly frowns.

“what? can’t you just tell him? i don’t get it.” she huffs, slightly lifting the hair on her face. you furrow your brows, “and risk him not liking me back?”

“okay so what if he does like you back?”

that simple question leaves you speechless, it’s not a crazy question, but as stupid as you sound, you didn’t think that would happen. nor was that a chance you would want to take.

“i don’t think he does, i mean we just met recently! he barely even knows me.” you’re shortly given a questioning look, followed by “don’t you meet like, every day?”

you sigh in defeat, “okay yeah we do, but that’s not the point! the point is that he doesn’t like me back.”

“look, he might not like you back, so why don’t you get it over with? the worst he can say is no.” her shoulders lift for a second, continuing back to focus on her phone.

“okay, no is definitely not the worst thing he could say. he could say like, “ew no you peasant! get away from me you dirty scab.” sakura dramatically sighs.

“are we talking about the same guy? the same guy who spent hours talking to you outside his own party?” you huff.

“yeah, but it’s still a possibility! you never know how royals are,” you argue. she quickly bites back, saying.

“exactly!” her eyes widened, “you don’t know how royals are, so you never know if he likes you back! which i’m sure he does.”

“okay so i confess to him, and he says no. what if our relationship changes and we can’t fix it because i made things so awkward? what would i do then?” you cry, she furrows her brows.

“you never know until you try.” she finishes, finally laying back down to go to sleep.

“fine.” you grumble, tiredly walking back to your room.

maybe you could confess to him.

you quickly throw yourself onto the bed. landing with an ‘oof’ sound on your stomach. brainstorming ideas or even just imagining scenarios. you hadn’t realized until two minutes of thinking was that everything you thought of was probably a normal occurrence for him.

picnics? you were sure he had done it many times. a restaurant? his chefs probably cook better and you’re both famous. movie date? even you didn’t want to do that idea.

giving your mind a rest, you rolled around on your bed. kicking the blanket off your sweaty feet, you grabbed your phone. opening safari.

i mean, it can’t hurt to look right? you quickly typed up the words, embarrassed at the dilemma you were in right then.

you scrolled through the websites, opening “15 best date ideas for you and your boyfriend.”

sure you weren’t at that stage, but it had to have at least one good idea.

scrolling through the options you stopped on one, thinking of what could happen then. painting together, that seems like it could be fun?

you quickly prepare yourself for the text you're about to send, staring at it for a while before actually sending it.

you

sunghoon are you busy this weekend?

sunghoon

not on saturday, but on sunday yeah.

why?

you

do you want to go painting with me 😁😁

sunghoon

sure, where?

you

yk the bench we met at like two days ago

we can meet there at 2pm ??

sunghoon

sure, see you then.

you

see youu

you slam your phone into your mattress, silently screaming to yourself imagining how the date would be. you prayed that sunghoon wasn’t some kind of artist who would laugh at the market's paint you had bought because it was such poor quality to him. sunghoon wouldn’t do that, he’s really sweet. you remember you check your calendar in the living room, writing down the date for saturday.

you scan the calendar, in three days you’ll confess.

08 YOU WEREN’T SURE YOU COULD PAINT WITH SUCH JITTERY HANDS

you had managed to get there at 1:58 seeing sunghoon there already. scanning his outfit, you found the gold details on his navy blue suit to fit him well, it was similar to the letter the palace had sent you but you didn’t want to point that out.

realizing how professional he looked, you quickly feel embarrassed at your outfit. some simple jeans with a crop top and a sweater, and a mask covering your face.

“hello y/n,” he smiles at you, helping you place your stuff down.

“hello sunghoon! here-” you hand a canvas to him, “this is for you, and you know how to paint, right?” you mentally slap yourself, of course, he knew how to paint y/n!

his eyes slightly squint in confusion as he chuckles, “of course, i know how to paint y/n, what do you wanna paint?”

you lock eyes with him, trying your best not to get flustered saying, “i don’t know yet, probably like the river in front of us. what about you?”

he looks around, suddenly smirking at the idea he must’ve had. “i’ll surprise you,”

“whatever,” you playfully roll your eyes, handing him his canvas and palette. his hands brush yours, lingering longer than they should.

you ignore it, carefully dipping the paintbrush into the water, then into a light grayish blue. you gracefully spread the paint around, trying to replicate the water to the best of your abilities. the blue slowly runs out, your paintbrush becomes dryer than your liking. so you delicately press the paintbrush into the water, swirling it around before dipping it back into the same blue color you were using.

while you’re doing that, you glance at sunghoon to see him sketching a person with a pencil. “who’s that?” you ask, he looks at you seeing you stare at his sketch.

his eyebrows furrow, “you can’t tell?”

you scan the canvas again, noticing the outfit looking very similar to yours. you squint slightly, “are you drawing me?”

he grins, “no.”

“what? that literally looks exactly like me!” you argue.

“it’s your mom.”

you sigh, rolling your eyes and turning back to your canvas, he laughs at your reaction. “i hate you so much,” you lie.

“right. you know i can get you thrown into prison right?”

“yeah you could, but you like me too much to do that.” you boldly state.

he gives you a side eye, nodding sarcastically. “whatever you want,” he says, you triumphantly continue painting, finishing the sky before starting on the river and the scenery.

you add more paint to your original color, brightening it before starting your river. making sure you get each detail.

while you’re working on your river sunghoon starts painting the background, realizing he forgot to do that.

you two continue with small talk, conversing about favorite music, events that are coming up, and even events happening recently.

you’re reminded of his birthday party, how he never finished his answer before he got pulled away by the crowd (or whoever was calling for him).

the conversation slowly dies down, sunghoon decides to start a new one before you could.

“how’s it like being an idol? like getting to do whatever you want and still be liked.”

you give him a bittersweet smile, “i don’t really get to do whatever i want, but i probably have more freedom than you do.”

sunghoon sighs, “yeah, sometimes i really hate being a prince, i wish i had more freedom like you.”

“well, i don’t have that much freedom, but i don’t really care. i just do whatever i want and hope i don’t get caught,” you chuckle, sunghoon smiles at you,

“you don’t get scared of the consequences you could get?”

“not really. if anything, i can just debut again.”

sunghoon clearly taken aback by your confidence covers it with a smirk, “are you always this confident?”

“not with you,” you blurt out, not realizing your mistake until you see his face visibly turning red. he quickly turns away, pretending to add finishing touches to the painting with nothing but water on the brush.

now you realize, its time. you quickly build up your confidence, not wanting to stay in this awkward silence any longer.

“look- i don’t know how to say this. but i like you, so much.” you can see sunghoon’s mouth slightly open, eyes widening as well. you continue, “and i know your idea of love isn’t that fond. so i hope we can still be friends after this. but please take my feelings into consideration.” you slightly smile at him.

he’s still in shock when he answers. “y/n, i don’t like you back-”

you blank for the rest of his sentence. realizing now that you should have left those words unsaid. so, so many words that should’ve been left unsaid.

he stops talking, waiting for your reaction. you aren’t sure if you feel like crying or screaming, but one thing you were sure you felt was that you wanted to get out of there.

you nod in disappointment, taking your canvas and paint with an awkward goodbye. you walk away, trying your best to ignore the slight blur in your vision.

09 “SHE WHAT?”

was the first thing jay said when he told them about the date. jake gave sunghoon a look of disbelief, and heeseung laughed at him.

“dude, we know damn well she did not say that.” heeseung smirks, stifling a laugh.

sunghoon eyebrows furrow, “what? she did say that! and i don’t know how to feel! she also isn’t answering my calls so that’s why i invited you over, not to have tea and biscuits.”

jake quietly puts his tea cup down, missing when sunghoon rolls his eyes at him.

“okay so what’s your opinion on her?” jay leans slightly forward, looking at sunghoon with an eyebrow raised.

“well-” sunghoon abruptly stops. how could he put this into words?

for one he always has a smile on around you, whether it’s a smirk or a genuine smile. either work.

two, he thinks you’re pretty, like the moon in an empty sky, or a person seeing a sunset for the first time. but that would surely get him teased, so he keeps quiet on that one.

three, he thinks you’re kind, too kind for your own good. just yesterday when you had bought all the supplies for painting when you both knew he could’ve rented out the whole park for you two, or when he offered to pay for the drinks you got for your members after the time he bumped into you, to which you declined fully knowing his economic status.

yeah, you’re kind.

sunghoon barely manages to get out, “she’s… kind?”

jake scoffs, “just kind? after all the date’s you’ve had with her, you don’t think she's funny or pretty or anything?”

yeah i think a lot of things. he thinks. deciding to also keep that to himself.

“i mean she’s pretty and funny.” sunghoon blankly states, not wanting to overshare.

“c’mon dude! i know you’re thinking some poetic shit but are too scared to say it to us. we won’t judge!” heeseung argues.

jay laughs at heeseung’s last comment, knowing full well it was a lie.

sunghoon rolls his eyes for nth time, realizing he’d have to say something anyways.

“well i think she’s pretty, but like so pretty you can’t describe it.” he thinks for a moment, trying to put it simply, “also her smile,” sunghoon lets out a breathy smile. making his friends all seem disappointed.

“it literally just sounds like you’re in love with her. your girl problems are too easy,” heeseung sighs, taking a bite of the biscuit waiting to be eaten.

“well, i’m not in love with her! i just enjoy her company.”

“i enjoy jake’s company but i don't dreamily sigh about his smile,” jay adds, to which jake winks at him.

jay gives him a disgusted look, turning to focus on sunghoon and his problem.

“okay well i don’t want to be in love with her!” he says, throwing his hands in defeat.

“why? what’s so wrong with liking a girl?” heeseung asks, his voice slightly muffled by the food he was eating.

sunghoon furrows his brows in disgust. “okay, first of all, don’t talk with food in your mouth, and second of all…” he pauses, does he really want to get that personal right now?

the answer is no.

“second of all, i don’t want to fall in love just to be disappointed in the end.”

jake sighs, “man, if you don’t want to fall in love that’s fine, but just think about the good things that could come out of it.”

sunghoon nods, taking in his words. what good things would come out of it? unrequited love? heartbreaks? being married to someone else because you’re a prince?

he didn’t think anything good would come out of it.

so sunghoon decided he didn’t love you romantically. and he never would.

010 YOU WERE STILL IGNORING HIS CALLS

every text left on delivered, every call left unanswered and sunghoon didn’t know what was wrong.

well, yes he did know what was wrong but he wasn’t sure how to fix it. his friends certainly hadn’t helped and he had no one else to ask.

so maybe he had to take matters into his own hands.

his plan was to host a ball then formally invite you to it. you couldn’t decline an invitation personally from the prince could you?

then he would just go with the flow, talk to you and apologize and become friends again. easy, right?

convincing his parents to invite you to the ball was simple. even if his mom was a little uneasy, she was delighted he wanted to personally invite someone to the ball they were hosting.

for once sunghoon left them with a smile on his face.

now all he had to do was wait. he knew it would never happen but everytime he got a notification, his face lit up. frantically checking the message for any sign of the word “y/n”. but he never found one.

all sunghoon did that week was wait for a text back. it hurted his brain honestly, all his worries were constantly flooding it. everytime he tried to focus on whatever his teacher was saying he couldn’t. not when his friendship was at stake.

he wasn’t sure why he was so worried about you, considering you were just friends. but the more he thought about it, the more confused he got.

but when the day finally came, he wasn’t as ready for it as he should’ve been.

yes he mentally prepared himself, and he made sure everything at the ball was perfect. but he forgot the most important part.

planning the apology.

sunghoon wouldn’t say he was the best at apologies. when people say that the words should come from the heart he laughs. it’s not like the heart has a mouth to speak with, he always thinks. but this time, he’s really relying on those words said by others.

but stupid phrases couldn’t help now.

so, sunghoon took a deep breath. and foot by foot, he entered the ballroom.

011 HIS FACE TURNS A WARM PINK WHEN HE SAW YOU

wearing a grayish-blue gown with sparkle lined layers towards the bottom. you had a huge smile on your face, talking to another woman.

he was so busy scanning your features he hadn’t noticed all his friends crowding around him. they all continuously teased him for the love struck look in his eyes. one that i don’t have. he thinks, ignoring the comments they had made.

he notices the look in your eyes, slowly growing less happy as you scan the beautiful lady in front of you. your smile slightly falls, but still evident in your face when she leaves. you look around, locking eyes with him. your smile falls this time, not hiding the slightly dreading facial expressions you had.

sunghoon calls you over, seeing the bright smile on your face return to meet his friends.

you happily greet each of them, each sharing a small fact about themself. you try to listen to each one, even though you’ll most likely forget it in an hour.

finally, you shake sunghoons hand. ignoring the awkward tension between you two.

jake quickly starts a conversation, saying, “y/n! you were the band that played at hoon’s birthday right? what instrument did you play?”

you nod, “yeah i play the bass! i also do some singing but i’m not the lead singer,” you chuckle. jake nods, taking a sip of whatever drink he had.

you look at sunghoon finding his eyes already latched onto yours. you look away quickly ignoring the interaction.

jay senses the tension, finding an excuse to lead his friends away from you two.

sunghoon mentally lets out a sigh of relief, realizing he had to start his apology soon.

“y/n look- can we talk about last week?”

you sigh, nodding.

“i was just thinking about it and i realized how rude i was that day, and that i’m sorry for that,” he braces himself for your reaction, a wash of relief goes over him when he sees your soft smile.

honestly, you don’t even remember what he said, but he must’ve been pretty mean.

“you don’t have to be sorry for rejecting me sunghoon, i get it. let’s just move on. okay hoon?” you tease, to which sunghoon rolls his eyes, barely keeping his smile in.

he doesn’t think anyone else can call him that anymore.

sunghoon makes eye contact with his mother, urging him to join the dance floor ever so near him.

you give a knowing look to him, dragging him to the ballroom floor.

the floor is filled with people, sunghoon leads you through the people, all moving in a unison formation. you finally find an empty spot, stopping there.

he laughs, “you remember how to dance right?”

“of course i do,” you answer, placing your right hand on his shoulder, softly holding his other hand.

he starts moving you two around, twirling you and lifting you up. you two laugh every time a small stunt comes up. but for a majority of the time, you’re just waltzing around, engaging in some small talk.

“you know i’ve always wanted to play an instrument?” sunghoon asks.

you shake your head, slightly frowning, “if you told me i could’ve started teaching you how to play bass guitar!”

he laughs at your response, taking in the atmosphere around him.

sunghoon can’t ignore the fact that your hands have gotten softer than before, or that you had some makeup on that enhanced your features, or that everytime you would mess up you would laugh it off.

sunghoon can’t help but have a smile on his face around you.

he can’t help but enjoy being with you. he can’t help but look forward to spending time together. he can’t help but find you infinitely gorgeous and perfect.

he can’t help but fall in love with you.

and this time, he accepts it.

soon the music comes to an end, but you're too busy enjoying eachothers company to acknowledge it.

he randomly says, “i’m sorry for what i’m about to do.”

sunghoon knows he’ll regret this, but he does it anyway.

he plants his lips onto yours, softly kissing you. you’re shocked at first. before you return the kiss, wrapping you arms around his neck. you pull out to take a breath, looking deeply into his dark brown eyes.

he smiles at you, and you smile back.

maybe this time sunghoon will give love a try. and maybe it’ll work out for him.

012 EXTRA

this was the fourth time sunghoon had tried to sneak you out of your schedule, everytime he tried something new but it never worked.

but this time he had a new plan.

you had just finished your stage at music bank, and still had hours to go until awards were announced.

sunghoon’s job was to distract the staff, and let you sneak out unnoticed.

he arrived at the back door, starting small talk with the staff in front of the doors.

“hey have you seen my new selfie?”

“do you like this theme for the next ball?”

“which suit should i wear?” he repeatedly asks, nudging his head as a symbol for you to go.

you, watching throw a small crack in the door, open it and take off running out from the side which was slightly out of their view. you run as fast as possible. foot after foot, step after step. ignoring the weird looks sent your way, you finally stop at a familiar tree.

a few minutes later he comes running to you, waving at you.

before you say anything he tackles you into a hug, almost knocking you over.

“someone missed me huh?” you tease, softly caressing his shoulder.

“yeah i really did,” he smiles, giving you a quick peck on the cheek.

“how’d you even distract them for that long? they always keep their eyes on the door.” you furrow your brows, worried they were chasing after you.

he smirks, keeping eye contact while putting your hair behind your ear. you quickly get flustered, dropping the subject.

sunghoon truly was quite the distractor.

thank u sm for reading! if you liked this plz check out my work “apple cider” :)) have a great day!!

yenqa © please do not copy, steal or translate.

nonsense — pt 2 (s.jy)

SUMMARY: previously, jake asked you to teach him how to properly use his big dick. the lesson doesn’t exactly go as planned… PAIRING: bestfriend/roommate!jake x reader (afab) GENRE: smut (minors dni) WARNINGS: smut, size/bulge kink, dacryphilia, masochism/mentions of pain from penetration(?), unprotected sex (pls use protection) WORD COUNT: 1.9k A/N: sorry for the wait but it’s finally here, also apologies for the messy pacing and abrupt ending i seriously had no motivation to finish this lol

read part 1 here

You spent the next week on edge, tiptoeing around the apartment. A part of you hoped there wouldn’t be any awkwardness or tension after you practically pounced on him, crossing the barrier that best friends, and roommates especially, weren’t supposed to. But you were foolish to assume that once Jake came down from his high, he wouldn’t start avoiding you at all costs.

It was painfully obvious. He would come home late at night, only coming to the kitchen to eat while you were in the shower, and locking himself in his room until you left for class the next morning. You couldn’t help but assume he regretted what happened, and you felt an ugly twist in your stomach at the thought that he didn’t enjoy any of it, or worse, that you had pressured him into the act. 

You were quietly cracking open the door to your bedroom, wanting to quickly grab something from the kitchen when the door to Jake’s room, directly across from yours, also opened. You stopped in your tracks, making brief eye contact with him before you were directing your gaze to the floor. If he hadn’t seen you, you probably would’ve closed the door and crawled back into your room.

The pounding of your heart was ringing in your ear. As much as you hated confrontation, you hated the idea of walking on eggshells around your own damn roommate and best friend. The least you both could do was talk it out, deem it a one-time mistake and try to forget about it. You took a deep breath and squeezed your eyes shut, leaning against the doorframe.

“Fuck it,” you breathed out. “About last week…”

“Yeah,” he was blurting out before you could even continue. 

You were looking up at him now. He was fresh out of the shower, hair wet and towel wrapped around his neck. Droplets of water forming at the ends of his hair were beginning to fall beside his bare feet from his prolonged stance in the same position. He didn’t miss the way your eyes trailed along the veins that ran up his bare arms. 

You tore your eyes away from his body to make eye contact with him, mentally cursing at yourself for feeling more and more turned on as the seconds passed. However, while you expected him to look anxious or flustered, you found him looking at you with an unreadable expression, almost similar to how he watched you last week, with you on your knees in front of him and his hands buried in your hair. 

You were unconsciously rubbing your thighs together and shifting uncomfortably on your feet from his intense stare. A sudden wave of confidence washed over you before you were closing your own door and striding into Jake’s, pulling him with you by his bicep. The familiar lights from his PC gave you a sense of deja vu. 

He tore your grip off him from behind you. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” he whispered. You winced, thinking you had misread his intentions and were in the middle of making a fool of yourself.

Jake, on the other hand, was panicking over his inability to exert self control and how you’d react if you found out that he touched himself every night this week to the mental image of your pretty lips wrapped around him.

But it was Jake this time who was mouthing fuck it before he closed the gap between you, hands coming up to grab at the sides of your face and press his lips against yours. You audibly sighed into his mouth before you were a mess of tangled limbs in the sheets, clothes strewn in a trail leading from the door to his bed.

Jake tried his best not to ogle at your bare chest, instead looking down at his own cock, standing tall and proud against his abdomen.

You gaped, reminded of just how big he was.

Jake stopped his movements upon sensing your hesitance, wanting to make sure this was something you wanted and that he wasn’t overstepping any boundaries. He was kneeling on the bed, boxers thrown to the floor while you were lying flat, a pillow under your head.

“I, uh, I’ve never been able to get it in,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish look.

You threw your head back in laughter. “You mean, like, you couldn’t find her hole?” The thought of virgin Jake hopelessly struggling amused you, yet your heart softened at just how inexperienced he seemed.

He winced at your comment, softly chuckling as he shook his head. “No, like I could never fit it in with other girls before.”

Oh. You didn’t even realize that was an actual problem people had. Did that technically make him a virgin still? 

You sat up on your elbows, heart racing at the implication. “What the hell makes you think I can take it, then?”

His eyes widened and he immediately shifted lower on the bed to pull at your underwear, ready to prep you. For some reason, he just assumed you’d be able to take him since you were experienced. He truly had no idea how big he was.

Your underwear was hooked just above your knees as he reached out, dragging two fingers up your folds to collect your arousal and bringing it to his lips. His tongue poked out the corner of his mouth as he licked at his digit, moaning in the process. 

You pulled him by the wrist, his fingers reluctantly leaving his mouth. “What are you doing?”

“I’m gonna finger you first, needa stretch you out,”

“N-no, I can take it.”

“But you just said—”

“I said I can take it.”

The sudden thrill of a challenge, to see whether you were capable of taking all of him, sent a shiver down your spine. 

He stared at the wet patch on the front of your underwear, running his index finger along it. “I wanna eat you out, though,” his lips in a pout. “You taste so good,” he was whining, eyes fixated on your glistening, leaking core.

Your heart did a somersault. “We have all the time in the world for that, Jake,” you couldn’t help but smile. “But I need you inside me— now,” you muttered, your expression quickly turning into one of sultry desperation.

“F-fuck, okay.”

His knees shifted forward as he aligned the head of his cock with your sopping cunt, pushing in at an excruciatingly slow pace. You feel like you’re being torn apart in the most delicious way, the stretch addicting and your mouth falls open at the sensation. You’re usually not great with pain, but you know it’ll all be worth it once Jake starts thrusting into you.

He finally bottomed out on top of you, a shaky breath releasing from his lips. You mentally thanked yourself for choosing this position, knowing very well that you wouldn’t have gotten this far if you were on top. Jake’s eyes were squeezed shut, a visible sheen of sweat across his forehead.

He was embarrassed to tell you directly, but with it being Jake’s first time, it was taking everything in him to not pull out and slam back into you. He wasn’t sure how long he could stay like this, your walls clamping onto him for dear life. 

You swore you could feel him in your stomach. He was pulling out before you could complain, leaving just the tip in so he could compose himself and relieve some of the pain he assumed you were in. A whine left your lips, protesting as you hooked your legs around his waist and pulled him back inside you. He sobbed out a cry of your name, bottoming out again and hiding his face in your neck.

Your slick was doing wonders to aid his cock in and out of you. He licked and nipped between your collarbones as he kept a somewhat consistent pace, his cock nearly slipping out from your wetness each time he pulled back. Lifting his head from the crook of your neck, he peered down at you through hooded eyes, watching as you mumbled mindlessly.

“S-so full, mmph, need—ah, Jake, need you to fill me up, oh f-fuck y-yeah that’s it, harder!” Every word of yours was interrupted by a rhythmic, sharp thrust, causing you to inch back toward the headboard.

He chewed on his bottom lip, mesmerized at the sight of you falling apart on his cock. 

“So perfect, such a perfect cock…” your voice came out in a purr. You were saying it mostly to yourself, yet Jake couldn’t help but moan out at how affected he was by your praise.

“Y/N, I-I t-thought you were gonna teach me, fuck,” he groaned, hips snapping at an increasing pace.

You shook your head, apologetic whines leaving your lips. There was nothing to teach him, at least nothing you could teach him in the state you were currently in. 

The sight of you struggling, falling apart on his cock with tears of pleasure threatening to spill from the corner of your eyes, and the way your cries are beginning to sound more and more desperate brings him to full consciousness, awakening a sudden desire in him.

“Then take it back,” he grunted, 

“Huh?” you were mumbling, eyes barely able to stay open.

“Take it back, what you said about not knowing how to use my dick,”

Your breath hitched at his sudden boldness and change of demeanor.

“Say it,”

You gulped down any remaining pride. “J-Jake, fuck, you’re so s-so good with your cock,” you whined. Technically, you were speaking the truth, but you liked it more when he didn’t know how good he was. You liked your boys a little dumb.

“I’m sorry, ‘n I-I take it back,” you mumbled. Jake let out a squeaky moan at your words. You removed your hands that were clawing at his back to pinch at your nipples while you squirmed under him, and he had to close his eyes again to keep himself from cumming.

His pace was faltering from his enthusiastic thrusts, completely lost in his own pleasure and your needy expressions. Reaching down to thumb at your neglected clit with the limited knowledge he had from previous experiences, he noticed a slight bulge against your skin. 

You were writhing underneath him and he angled his hips upward with another experimental thrust, completely hypnotized by the view of his tip protruding right beneath your belly button. You let out a broken cry at the feeling, your climax building rapidly and waves of ecstasy washing over you as your walls spasmed from the combination of his fingers working against your clit and the weight of him pressing down on his bulge through your lower stomach. 

Just as he was impressing himself at how long he’d managed to last, he’s being made aware of your notable size difference. It felt like he was filling you to the hilt with just half his cock pumping in and out of you. With one last clench around him as you began to come down from your high, he was spilling into you with a strained groan of your name, your tight cunt milking him dry.

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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Hi I've recently started following you and love your posts 🥺 so sweet!

Anyways, could I pls request a Sunghoon x reader where he comforts them somehow bc they're stressed abt work/school?

<3 thx!

♡ ꒱ more than friends 𓂃 ᗢᘏᓗ

pairing: best friend!Sunghoon x fem!Reader

genre: fluff, best friends to lovers

summary: seeing you panick over exams was a literal torture for your best friend, Sunghoon, who just wanted to help you feel better. Thanks to his unique way of “calming you down” he was able to do just that, along with successfully gaining himself a date with the girl he liked.

word count: 1.3k

warnings: kissing kissing and kissing, really fluffy fluff ending, mentions of having anxiety, mentions of exams and stress, usage of the word “shit”

a/n: it’s been a while since I’ve written a request so, I’m hoping you can enjoy this anonie! I got a little carried away with this and I hope it’s okay, please let me know what you think 🫶🏼

🖱⌨️ : masterlist

“Okay,” Sunghoon nodded, eyes focused on the paper in his hold which you stayed up preparing all night, for the oral exam you were about to take in an hour today, “let’s go over this once more.”

You sighed, closing your eyes, trying to clear your head for his questions. You were nervous, so much that Sunghoon was starting to get worried about you.

“Mhm.” You hummed in response, clumsily trying to wipe your wet palms on the fabric of your pleated skirt.

You could feel that there were no room left in your brain anymore to obtain any kind of additional information, no matter how crucial it was for the exam.

Yet there you were, forcing yourself to study when all you wanted to do was to go back to your bed and sleep for the rest of day.

“Or we can just take a break here and get some air—” Sunghoon suggested, noticing your struggle.

He wanted to help you so bad, seeing you like this was nothing other than a torture to him.

“No!” you shook your head and interrupted him with a high pitched voice that came out louder than you thought, unable to control your anxiety.

Realizing how rude you just sounded, you looked up, meeting with a pair of confused eyes.

Sunghoon seemed baffled, frozen at his seat while he was searching for an answer to give to you.

“Okay then, let’s—”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to— shit!”

You pursed your lips, brushing your hands through your wavy strands that had Sunghoon secretly swooning over you.

You really were so pretty, he couldn’t deny it.

Maybe that was the reason why he hated seeing you upset so much, because it didn’t suit your gorgeous face, just like this spoken moment.

You were interrupting him, again, but although he didn’t care much, it was the last straw for you to have an emotional outbreak.

Huffing out a frustrated groan, you cupped your face with both hands, pressing at your eyes to prevent the swelled up tears from falling down — which didn’t work.

Were you crazy?

Why were you yelling at your best friend who only tried to help? And why on earth were you crying right now?

“Y/n, shhh—” Sunghoon called your name, letting it roll out from his tongue softly as he got up and walked towards you with rushed steps.

“Hey, look at me,” he tapped on your shoulder lightly, “Come on sweetheart, let me see your pretty face, hm?”

“I have a runny nose,” you sobbed, “I’m not pretty right now!” you whined, which made him giggle over how honest you were.

“I don’t care,” he murmured, grabbing your wrists gently, “let me see you.” he said, forcefully moving your fisted hands away.

“I c-can’t make this s-stop!” You choked out as you looked at him behind swollen eyes, your lips and nose shining bright red due to the rush of blood.

“Shhh, It’s alright baby, it’s alright—”

“Make it stop Sunghoon, p-please!”

Not knowing what to say, Sunghoon gulped down in worry, hesitating over doing the only thing that came to his mind.

It almost felt like he was dealing with an acute brain deficiency, which was the last thing he needed right now.

Screw it, he thought to himself as he watched you break down completely, he couldn’t bare witnessing the sight of you pouring your heart out anymore.

So with a deep breath, he took your face in between his hands and wiped away the wetness on your cheeks before pulling you towards himself, only to press his soft lips on your dry ones.

He closed his eyes and held you still as he kissed you, pushing you against the wall behind you to prevent you from running away — not that you were trying to anyways, you were too stunned to move a limb.

Despite the wacky circumstances, the kiss was fluttering for the both of you, making his heartbeat fasten as it calmed yours.

You tasted sweet, much better than his favorite candy flavor. It made him want to not stop and risk everything instead, even though it would most likely cost him your friendship.

Or so he thought.

Stealing one last peck from you, he pulled away, leaning his forehead against yours as he struggled to look into your eyes.

He felt dizzy, almost like he was unable to stand straight on his feet.

“I r-read it somewhere,” he stuttered, licking his lips, “that k-kissing could help with p-panic attacks.” he said, trying to disperse the strange mood in the room.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, so did it work?” He asked, blinking a few times expectantly. Now he was even more nervous than you, feeling his hands shake as he placed them on both sides your waist.

“Hmm, I don’t know,” you pouted, crossing your arms around his neck, “it was too short for me to tell, don’t you think?” You teased, pulling him closer as you played with the small hairs on his nape.

“That so?” He whispered, fanning his hot breath against your blushed cheeks. You looked so mesmerizing, he could barely breathe in front of you.

“Mhm,”

“Then how about this?”

Just like that, you found his lips back on yours again, gently moving with a slow rhythm. Delicately, he placed a hand on your cheek and tilted your head as he hugged your waist, wanting to give you what you were asking for exactly.

A small whimper fell from your mouth as you tugged on his hair for more, which was enough for him to understand that he was on the right track.

But instead of giving you more of what you wanted, he chose to stop and tease you a little, just like you did to him.

“So?” He asked, breaking the kiss, chuckling at the redness of your face. “Was this long enough for you?”

Unable to stop your lips from curling up, you gave in and let a cute chuckle escape from your mouth.

He smiled at the way you hid your face on the crook of his neck, laughing along with you over your clumsy attempts on avoiding his flirty gaze.

“What is it, are you shy now?”

“No,” you rejected, trying to sound like you were not at all effected by what just happened, “Why would I be shy?”

“Because we just kissed, love,” he muttered right next to your ear, emphasizing on the last word, “and we did it twice.”

“You meant to say thrice?”

“Wha—”

Not letting him finish, you pushed your lips on his, once again getting the upper hand. This time you were the one cupping his cheeks and tilting his face, causing a heart attack on his poor body.

He could feel his knees give in as he leaned his weight down on you, letting you pull him as close as you wished.

“See?” you mumbled, panting for air in between kisses, “thrice.” you said, giving him a one last kith.

He nodded approvingly as he chased after your lips for more, pouting when you pushed him away, not letting him get greedy with you.

“I see,” he cleared his throat, following after you to gather his stuff from the table since it was almost the time for the exam, “then what should I do to get my fourth kiss?”

Smirking at his daring question, you threw him a sassy look, fixing his tie as you locked your eyes with his beautiful brown ones.

You seemed to gain your confidence back almost as if that anxiety attack never happened, which was a great sight to see for Sunghoon, since he felt like he could finally be of help.

“Do you really want it that badly?”

“I do actually,” he sighed, wanting to look dramatic, “very much, if I’m being honest.”

“Then take me out on a date after this, Park,” you responded, trying not to show how much his answer got you excited, “Impress me and you’ll get your kiss.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah,” you giggled, “promise.”

“Consider it done then, L/n,” he concluded, fixing your smudged lipstick with a dirty grin on his face.

Oh how sweet it was, watching your cheeks turn red because of him, he couldn’t put his joy into words.

“I hope you’re ready for the best date of your life.”

©hee-poster on tumblr | est. 2022

ᓚᘏᗢ 𓂃 𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 ⌗

@gegeetime @sei-ryuu @jak-ey @hanienie @quokkasunggie @02dreamerz @hsheart @jyunillaa

angel in the marble

after you fail to pickpocket him, the famous yet arrogant artist Jeon Jungkook takes you off the streets to make you his servant, and the more you know him, the more you realise he's not as detestable as everyone claims he is.

♔ PAIRING: michelangelo!jungkook x servant!reader

♔ GENRE: high renaissance au, angst, smut, humour

♔ WORD COUNT: 8k

♔ WARNINGS: homelessness, stealing, mild swearing/violence/drinking, 90% of this is bickering lmao, mentions of minor characters' death, jealousy and kinda possessiveness?, referenced unconsensual groping (not by jk), a bit of blasphemy, making out, groping, fingering, rough angry sexxx, choking, slapping

♔ AUTHOR'S NOTE: fun fact this is mostly historically accurate! jk's characterisation, the grocery list doodles, the sack of rome, the beef with his brother, the encounter with his rival (raphael)... are all taken from michelangelo's actual life, even some stuff is quoted from his letters lol. man was fanfic material.

1529, Rome

“How much for that one?”

“No, that one’s sold already.”

It was a lively morning. After days of heavy rainfall, those of high social class were eager to get out and meet under the gentle sun of spring, whose glare reflected on the precious stones of their jewellery; while those of low, out of necessity, couldn’t wait to reopen their businesses or set up their stalls and get back to work. You liked to eye them all as you strolled the streets of Rome.

“To whom?”

“Your friend Taehyung.”

“Agh… How much is that prick paying you?”

The point of the matter was that it was bustling, some colliding if they looked away from where they were going for more than a breath. It worked in your favour for it was then easier to make yourself scarce right after stealing bags of coins, such as those of the three men seemingly bargaining by a workshop’s entrance out of which a large block of marble was being dragged. Perfect.

“Three ducats.”

“Three?! He’s robbing you of two ducats. I’ll pay you the five it’s worth.”

You kept your head low as you approached the pair that seemed wealthier and with those stealthy hands of yours unfastened the bags tied to their belts. After all, pickpocketing was a skill you’d had under your own for some years now, so this was bound to go smoothly.

Because you didn’t realise there was a guardian with them, perhaps you’d grown arrogant.

“I’m sorry, maestro. It’s reserved.”

“But it’ll become a waste in his possession!”

As you slipped away into the crowd, mouth watering at the fresh-baked bread you were going to devour as soon as bought, this brown dog leaped up at you out of nowhere, ignoring your desperate efforts to shake him off. If anything, they caused him to bark.

No, no, no…

The three men turned to the scene playing out not so far, and thinking his dog was bothering you one of them shouted, “Bam, come here, boy!” but as he obediently ran to his owner, you were too slow to hide the bags in your hands. It only took the pair a second to make them out, check whether theirs still hung on their belts, find them not, work out you’d stolen them, look back up, and find you not either.

Of course, you’d made your escape by then, dived into the sea of people and swum through them as quickly as possible, only stopping when you reached an empty vaulted alley to catch your breath.

That was ridiculously close. If you weren’t more careful next–

Your train of thought was interrupted by someone grabbing you by the arm from behind and pushing you against the nearest wall. A grunt accompanied the thud, and a gasp followed at the sight of the two men from before—dog included. Pinned in place, it’d be a bad idea to fight back or attempt to run away again. Fuck’s sake.

“Do you know what happens to thieves?” the one cornering you asked so close that when the cold breeze rustled his hair, some strands grazed your face. You looked away to avoid the tickling rather than out of fear, or so you wanted to believe. “They have a hand cut off. Seems fair, doesn’t it, Jimin?”

By contrast, that Jimin didn’t look intimidating, otherwise still catching his breath from the chase, but he did snatch the coin bags from your hands. “It doesn’t have to be so, maestro. We got our money back. She’s… just a girl.”

“And that exempts her of crime?”

“Please, don’t report me,” you begged, humiliating as though it was.

“Why shouldn’t we?” the maestro scoffed. Maestro… You were being threatened by a damned craftsman, the other one probably his assistant.

“Because I don’t want to lose a hand?”

“Oh, but we wanted to lose money, did we?” You rolled your eyes, and he released his grip only to step away. “Take us to your father, brat. He’ll answer for you.”

It took you a moment to respond, “I don’t have a father, or anyone... Only I can answer for my actions.”

“You’re a beggar?” Jimin asked, taking pity as he studied your appearance for the first time. Dishevelled hair, tattered dress, unpleasant smell… Yes, they should’ve guessed.

“She doesn’t beg, though, does she? She steals.”

“Only from cunts.”

His head snapped to meet your glare, and Jimin laughed, “You seem to not know whom you speak to.” He could be Jesus for all you cared. Uninterested, you petted the dog, Bam, seeing as he’d leapt up at you again. “This is Jeon Jungkook.”

You froze. The Jeon Jungkook? The famous artist who painted and sculpted for the Pope? Whom faraway kings and even emperors commissioned? The one whose genius was said to be changing the world?

At the lack of attention, Bam returned to his master, and that snapped you out of your shock to ask, “Then why do you whine?” The two men frowned, having clearly expected an apology paired with the usual bootlicking. “As if you need that bag more than I!”

“What nerve,” he scoffed again, making you wince by grabbing your arm tighter than before and starting to drag you into the next street. “You’re going straight to the authorities!”

“Wait,” Jimin intervened, thank God. “Weren’t you in need of a servant, maestro?”

“So?”

Jimin pointed at you with his gaze as though it was obvious. “You’re in need of a servant, she’s in need of a roof.”

“I would rather have a hand cut off.”

“I would rather have her hand cut off too.”

Jungkook tried to resume dragging you, but Jimin blocked his way with a soft smile. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N…”

“Do you know how to take care of a household?” Slowly, you nodded, melancholy engulfing you at the memory of cooking or sweeping the floor with your mother once upon a time. Somehow, she always found a way to make chores fun... “Then you qualify for the job. You’ll have three meals a day and a bed to sleep on. And you, maestro, a servant who’ll work her hardest, lest you fire her and she ends up in the streets again.”

Both you and Jungkook reluctantly glanced at each other. Truth be told, you didn’t prefer losing a hand to living with him, you just didn’t like him. Despite being a celebrity, he was a stranger. It just wouldn’t work.

But then, why were you holding your breath, hoping he’d accept?

“We shouldn’t have left Namjoon’s workshop. The marble is about to be delivered,” he said walking away. The air left your lungs in disappointment. It seemed you were to remain a stray cat. Jimin pressed his plump lips apologetically as he gave you enough coins to buy that bread, and you nodded, grateful all the same for his trying. You watched him rush to Jungkook’s side but when this one saw him, he turned around. “Hurry up, brat. If Taehyung gets that block of marble, I’ll not take you in.”

Since the first day, you could attest to Jeon Jungkook’s nature being as rough and uncouth as the rumours claimed, and after living alone with him for two months still believed gossip such as that he’d got the scar on his left cheek in a tavern fight—in which, if you’d chanced to be present, you would’ve rooted for the other individual.

It appeared it wasn’t just others Jungkook was harsh to. However rich his talent had turned him, he behaved like a poor man, consuming food and drink sparingly and out of necessity instead of pleasure, spending only the money required to live decently, sleeping little in order to work on commissions from dawn to midnight…

Why he chose to take little care of himselfwas a mystery to someone who previously had not been allowed a choice, even if putting work before all was in order to thwart Kim Taehyung’s plans of ruining his career, as he claimed. You doubted his rival was obsessed with him so, but had learned to agree with whatever Jungkook grumbled to avoid disputes. Most times.

Deep down, you had a feeling your boldness amused him. Who else dared get on his nerves?

“I think all you artists fluttering around the Pope are no more than slaves to money,” you let drop once while making his bed. Bam was sleeping peacefully under the window, while Jungkook leaning against the door’s frame behind you, offended to the core. He could help, you thought, or at least loosen my corset a little…

“I, a slave? I’ll be damned… There is an angel inside every block of marble, and I’ll have you know I carve to set it free.”

“Is it the angel that charges the Pope, then, master?” You could feel him barely restraining the urge to throw you out the window, smiled as you finished smoothing out the blankets.

“You missed a wrinkle there.”

Hands on your hips and frown on your brows, you examined the neatly arranged coverings of his bed. “Where?”

“On your face,” he muttered before making his leave.

Not his finest jibe, but the metaphor did stay with you. An angel inside the marble… It perhaps applied to Jungkook himself, though you’d never tell him.

One instance it came to mind was recently, when his assistants and apprentices were invited over for dinner.

Usually, he’d tell you which meals he liked and you’d ask at the marketplace which ingredients to buy, but now that about ten meals were to be cooked a list was needed. So there he sat on his desk in his study, inking said list as you waited in front of him, fiddling with the undershirt that peeked out of your dress’ sleeves. Given that your eyes were fixed on it, you only learned Jungkook was done when the sound of his quill scratching the paper ceased.

“Be back no later than dusk,” he ordered, “I bet there are still Germans and Spaniards lurking about.”

A year had passed since the Sack of Rome, but the mention of it sent a shiver of fear down your spine. Whatever the political reasons for it, you hated everyone involved, for Hell itself would’ve been a more beautiful sight to behold those nine months when the Tiber’s waters remained painted red…

You were lucky to make it through. Your family wasn’t.

“Yes, maestro.”

“Here,” he said handing you the paper, then picked another letter from a pile of correspondence he’d been going through before your arrival. Jungkook was about to snap its wax seal when he looked up to realise you hadn’t moved an inch. “Why are you here? Away with you!” He saw the reason in the way you avoided eye contact. “You can’t read, can you?” Met with a silence charged with embarrassment, he leaned back in his chair and sighed, “Give me the list.”

Getting hold of the quill again, Jungkook began… doodling?

You tilted your head but couldn’t see well what he was drawing until he finished and returned the list to you. Then, your lips parted. Each item on the list was illustrated next to its name: ten loaves of bread, a jug of wine, tortellini, four anchovies, two fennel soups…

“I’ll teach you to read when I have time. This will do for now.”

“You’d do that?” For me?

Jungkook ignored you, before he went back to reading his letters complimenting the good gesture with an irritated, “Hurry up.”

That night his co-workers arrived one by one, Jimin the first. The sight of him when you opened the door brightened up your mood.

Unlike a certain someone he was always sweet to you, genuinely interested to know how you fared even if you were just a servant. He claimed that mattered not to him, that you were both commoners and thus equals.

“Look at this place, it’s spotless! And you know I’m furtive, so I won’t get in your way,” you told Jimin as you escorted him through a hallway, bright from the torches hung on the walls that you’d lit up earlier.

He laughed, “I cannot make you my servant, Y/N, you’re maestro’s.”

“But he’s going to drive me mad… To tell you one of many examples, he often falls asleep in his clothes, and who but I is to take his boots off so they don’t get the sheets dirty? If the chalk on his fingers or the dust from the chiseling on his hair won’t already. Bam is far cleaner…”

Jungkook had a workshop he barely set foot in, preferred his team made use of it instead to not be bothered by their idiocy. His words. So it was in a chamber on the ground floor of this house he gave way to artistic insanity. In your book, that meant constant cleaning.

Jimin looked at you fondly. “Sounds nightmarish.”

“It truly is!”

As soon as the two of you entered the dining hall, Bam ran from Jungkook’s side by the fireplace to Jimin, who was as excited to see him.

“Good night, maes–”

“Do you think I’m deaf, ungrateful brat?” Jungkook interrupted him to bark at you. “Rome is full of people begging to get a piece of me, so if you don’t like it here, I’ll just get someone else!”

“You say that and yet keep me like a prisoner!”

“As if you don’t have it better here than anywhere you’ve burdened with your presence before!”

“There, there…” Jimin interjected to de-escalate, kneeling to better stroke Bam. “Maestro, I’ve seen your latest sketch of the Virgin and Child. She resembles Y/N.”

Both you and Jungkook failed to fight off the embarrassment, gazes unable to find a place to settle. Sitting down on the large table, he explained, “It was just one time… I had used Yoongi as a model, but the Madonna looked too masculine... and rather than going through the trouble of finding some girl and hiring her, I had Y/N pose for me… So what! Why bring it up out of nowhere…”

“Because maybe you just need a bit of distance from time to time. With permission, I too would have Y/N pose for m–”

“Absolutely not.”

“Now, why the hell not?” you groaned stamping your foot, startling poor Bam. Hope had been born inside you in a second and cruelly crushed in the next.

“Because I say so. And watch your tone with me.” As usual, the mutual glaring would trick anyone into thinking the next step would be murder. Jimin, who knelt there awkwardly, certainly thought so, at least until the bell rang. “Now go answer the door!”

What happened later, though, rendered the fury Jungkook had evoked in your heart nonexistent and instead seized the thing in a clasp of distress.

In the morning, he walked in when you were sweeping the kitchen. At once you forced the sobs to stop and turned around so he wouldn’t see you wipe your tears.

“It’s past nine, where’s breakfast?” he asked in shock that you hadn’t even started making it, the table there empty.

You swore under your breath before leaving the broomstick leaning against the nearest wall, flushed face kept out of Jungkook’s sight, then in a haste fetched a plate, a knife, and a leftover bread loaf. “Apologies, master, I forgot. I’ll be upstairs in a minute.”

Sniffling betrayed you, at which Jungkook frowned. “Are you crying?”

Great, the question just about especially designed to make one well up. Not trusting your voice anymore, you shook your head. Jungkook approached, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from the task at hand, now cutting a few slices of the bread.

“Have you broken something?” You shook your head again, the suppressed sobs making your chin tremble. Jungkook took a deep breath before asking with a surprisingly soothing tone, “Then what’s wrong?”

“You won’t believe me.”

“Try me.”

Within an hour, he’d summoned a meeting consisting of all who’d attended dinner the previous night.

A seemingly calm Jungkook was sat at the head of the table, elbows sunk on it and fingers interlocked. You stood behind him, head still low out of shame. A tense silence had fallen in the chamber some time ago, and sick of it, Jimin shattered it.

“Have you anything to tell us, maestro?”

“I was waiting for Biagio to do so.”

The man was one of Jungkook’s favourite assistants who had worked with him for years, even longer than Jimin. And if it was possible for your position to be trickier, he belonged to some noble family.

“Me? But I’ve nothing to say, maestro.”

Jungkook leaned back in his chair. “My servant will, then. Y/N?”

Bastard. If you are going to fire me, why make me go through this?

“Last night, w-when I left this hall to go refill the wine jug… Messer Biagio followed me into the kitchen, and… h-he trapped me from behind, and started t-to touch me…” Your vision soon blurred, hence why you couldn’t see clearly how concerned Jimin was for you, or how Biagio jumped up in outrage. “I managed to push him away, and ran upst–”

“How dare you slander me, wench? Maestro, you do not believe this!”

“Do I not?”

“She’s lying! I caught her stealing sketches from your study, likely to sell them, so she’s trying to get rid of me!”

You almost scoffed. Only an idiot would choose the one occasion guests had come over and her absence would be noticed to carry out a theft.

Jungkook tilted his head. “I thought you had nothing to say. Why would you keep such a thing just now?”

Biagio gulped. “I deemed it best to mention it later, in private... You won’t believe a pickpocket before an old friend, will you?”

Silence returned, your breath still as you saw all the assistants and apprentices visibly take pity on him. The only one who didn’t was Jimin, but even on his face there was a hint of hesitation. Jungkook’s, you couldn’t see from behind, but after an eternity he stood up and walked over only to put a hand on the shoulder of Biagio, who smiled in relief.

A quiet sob broke through your lips, heart sinking. You’d needed Jungkook to believe you in this. Not because of the consequences his protection as your master could save you from, but because, like it or not… he was the closest thing to family you had.

It turned out he did believe you, judging by the punch landed on Biagio’s jaw out of nowhere. And the next one on his cheekbone, and on his nose. Before everyone around the table had barely stood up to stop Jungkook, he’d already thrown Biagio down and straddled him, pulling his doublet’s collar in a close, tight grip as he continued beating him up. Blood was drawn, but for once, you didn’t mind having to scrub it later.

Jungkook’s influence trumped a whole noble house’s, you learned in the course of the months Biagio tried his mightiest and failed most miserably to have him arrested. Perhaps because of the Pope sitting on his shoulder.

That he’d taken your side was still hard to believe, all he’d grumbled with a shrug when you thanked him while tending to his wounds from the fight being, “I’d been waiting for the chance. I always thought Biagio was a weasel.”

With the matter resolved, life returned to normal—well, whatever that meant in Jeon Jungkook’s household. Because calling for you at the top of his lungs like a madman was not normal. The first time he’d done it you’d raced downstairs, afraid something horrible had happened, only for him to have you close a window as it was getting chilly. Devil rot him. You rushed no longer after that, much to his complaints.

Today, he didn’t notice right away when you appeared under the cased opening, and good thing he didn’t, for he was polishing a bust with sandpaper… shirtless.

Product of hours carving stone into his desired shape or occasionally beating someone up, he could brag of having muscles, which the current task had covered in a layer of sweat and dust. The way they flexed with each movement had you compelled, wanting to reach out, feel if his skin was as hot as the blood pumping through your veins faster and faster. Then your gaze moved to the bust and whatever spell you were under broke.

Hardly an angel was that widowed noblewoman, whom you wished had stayed trapped inside a block of marble. Her name was Madonna Maddalena, and she’d come some weeks past to make a commission covered in pearls, gold, and boldness.

“My friends refused to accompany me today. You’re said to be… disagreeable, which I’m sure is untrue. However, all of them do want to know if you’re as fine-looking as is also rumoured, maestro” she told Jungkook within minutes of meeting him, still by the entrance!

Now you can tell them he’s not, you bit your tongue before it remarked, as this wasn’t Jimin but a patron not to be scared away by your bickering. It wouldn’t be true anyway. All your master lacked in manners, he made up for with looks… Which you’d never say out loud. You’d never say either that he looked even better when irked.

“I’ve heard many rumours about myself, most of them nonsense. My appearance was involved in none.”

She smiled seductively. “I suppose I’ll have to be the one to spread them.”

“The weather is pleasant today,” Jungkook changed the subject, flustered beneath the formal demeanour. “Shall we have wine in the garden?” You left to prepare it not before catching Maddalena raise her brow at you in disapproval. She must’ve been able to tell you thought she was a pompous cunt.

The beautiful flowers you cared for tried their best outside, but the air didn’t get any better.

Sat around a small table, Maddalena explained she wanted a bust of herself by his talented hand to decorate the main hall of her palazzo. You served them wine, not really listening until Jungkook started playing hard to get. The hundred times you’d told him it wasn’t a good tactic to make his labour out to be too prestigious had apparently fallen on deaf ears.

“Any other artist could carry this out, Madonna. I am working for the Pope these days…” he subtly scolded her, a mere mortal, for wasting his precious time. And he wondered why he had a reputation for being arrogant.

Maddalena put his thoughts into plain words, “So why should you stoop to taking commissions from an insignificant widow?”

“Correct,” you said under your breath, luckily heard by none from the background, where you stood holding a wine jug until the madonna raised her cup and you approached to refill it.

“It is then fortunate I’m to marry a nephew of the Pope’s.”

Swayed by her future influence, Jungkook smiled back. “So it is.”

“But not for another week. ‘Till then, I belong to no man.” The suggestion in her tone almost drove you to spill wine all over her. No, better yet: order Bam to sic on her. He’d do it.

Just, who did this woman think she was? And why did Jungkook not kick her out right afterwards? It made you wonder whether he’d enjoyed the flirtation. Whether he would’ve been the one to take things further had his inconvenient servant not been present. It was common for men to have affairs and lovers, but it didn’t sit well with you that Jungkook might. Not that you ever imagined him doing any of that, for goodness’ sake–

“What took you so long?”

Jungkook’s voice brought you back to the present, under the cased opening.

“I was lazing about, as always,” you quoted his favourite false reprimand, making him roll his eyes, your own dropping to the floor when he walked closer.

“In that case, prepare a bath for me.”

“Yes, master.”

You sighed at all the work ahead. That being a servant was worlds better than living in the streets didn’t mean you looked forward to collecting gallons of water from a well, carrying them back, heating them, transferring them to a tub, then washing Jungkook—because you did wash him.

Biagio had hurt his left shoulder bad and ever since, he’d needed assistance in certain activities. Curious how he could otherwise chisel a goddamned bust without problem.

Jungkook’s full nudity only made you blush if you stopped scrubbing, so knelt with tucked up sleeves before the wooden tub he was reclined on, scrubbing away the dirt on his skin with lavender-scented soap you were. Maybe all the stupid feelings you’d been suffering lately stemmed from there…

Head resting on the edge, he was exhausted from the long day of work, taking your rubbing as a relaxing massage. You, however, couldn’t ignore the stinging guilt, what with the scar on his shoulder right in front of your face. He probably felt your breathing on it.

“I’m sorry you got hurt…”

Jungkook fought heavy lids only to see you avoid him. Allowing yourself to be vulnerable in front of him was embarrassing, as when he’d caught you crying, but he didn’t take advantage of the fact to humiliate you. Jungkook may be an ogre, but he wasn’t cruel.

“I’ve received worse for less,” he assured you in a calm, low voice. It sounded soothing to your ears.

“That, I don’t doubt,” you scoffed, glancing at his other scar on the cheek. “Did you also get that one in defence of some lady?”

“You’re nowhere close to a lady.” It could be done, you mused. Drowning him. “This was courtesy of my brother.”

“You have a brother?” It dawned on you how little you knew of him. Surely, most had heard it all about the divine Jeon Jungkook, but you’d never cared enough to learn past the shell of gossip, even after months of living with him. In fairness, he’d never asked about you either. You preferred it that way.

“Brothers,” he corrected you. “The one who did this to me was a wayward fool. Had to teach him a lesson.”

“Looks like he taught one to you.”

“I left with a scratch, he with a limp.” The conception of two brothers hurting each other so harshly widened your eyes for a second, and Jungkook noticed, for he added, “He was whoring around, wasting the money I worked hard to send, bullying our other brothers as well.”

Much made sense about Jungkook all of a sudden. Not his personality, that was incomprehensible. But why he killed himself to earn money and yet barely spent it… He had a family to provide for. Once again, you were reminded of his metaphor. Could an angel be in there?

Carrying on washing Jungkook, you dragged the sponge over to his neck. Then his collarbones, his chest, his abs just peaking above the water... They did look like a sculpture’s, especially wet and soaped, reminiscent of polished marble when the light of the torches reflected on them. Swallowing hard, the back of your fingers gingerly graced Jungkook’s muscles, both soft and firm. Slippery. Whatever possessed you to keep feeling them, you lacked the will to expel from your body, and so without realising your grip on the sponge loosened until it fell to float away, fingertips now free to roam over his abs.

You were slowly trailing downwards, past the water’s surface, when your wrist was seized and held in the air in a warning manner, the startle almost making you scream.

Sat upright, Jungkook was glaring at you so fiercely you feared for your life. But he didn’t say anything and instead just breathed hard, jaw clenched… almost as if he was holding back. Your rising heartbeat was deafening in the silence waiting for something to happen, anything, but what did wasn’t what a side of you anticipated with excitement.

Jungkook just let go of your wrist and returned to his previous position, and you got hold of the sponge and finished washing him, albeit holding your breath the entire time.

Days later, you came dangerously close to being fired.

The Pope had summoned Jungkook—something about a portrait commission—and you were to carry his bag filled with sketches for him due to his shoulder injury. As you navigated the ever-busy streets of Rome with him, the cold autumn breeze made you regret not putting on an overgown. The cioppa you’d bought with your own salary and not stolen. It brought a smile to your lips that faded at the realisation your mother would’ve reminded you to put it on before going out.

The sorrow pestering you turned to confusion when Jungkook stopped walking and tsked, telling you loud enough to be heard by all, “Look at him, the chief of police, with such an assemblage.”

A well-dressed man and what appeared to be his entourage walked in your direction, halting near enough. You didn’t have to ask to know this was his rival, the renowned painter Kim Taehyung.

“Whereas you, like an executioner, walk alone,” he mocked Jungkook, then noticed you standing behind him like a timid child. “Not completely, my mistake. Maestro, where in your barren soil did you plant such a flower?” He walked over to you, intentionally bumping Jungkook’s wounded shoulder as he passed, causing him to grunt lowly. From up close one was bound to marvel at how handsome Taehyung was, but you didn’t need proximity to tell he was a prick. Miles away, you would’ve known. “Why don’t you come work for me, flower? I’ll make you my muse.”

Jungkook scoffed again, “What, for your horseshit paintings? She’d be a fool to.”

Taehyung turned around to face him, feigning confusion with a smile. “But, maestro, how could they be so if you were once heard saying that all I have in art, I got from you?”

"You naturally have to resort to plagiarising my master’s genius if all you do is horseshit,” you countered, earning surprised looks from every man present, some laughs too, you were proud to say. Jungkook was certainly smirking. Taehyung opened his mouth, but you walked past him uninterested before a response came out of it.

“Good girl,” Jungkook laughed while leaving the crime scene, and for some reason your cheeks burned hot.

The incident happened once inside the Vatican.

Its grandiose corridors alone made you feel small, too unimportant to walk them, whereas Jungkook did so with determination, knowing he belonged at the top of the world. What with your tempestuous relationship, it was easy to forget he was famous throughout Europe. His feet would still never be kissed by you. Someone had to humble the man, right?

At some point the two of you arrived at a door flanked by guards, and averse, you grabbed the sleeve of Jungkook’s doublet.

“Do I have to go in?”

“Too good for the Pope, are you?” He shook you off. “Come on.”

“Damn you…” you muttered.

“What did you just say to me?”

“After you, master.”

Telling himself he’d be late if he scolded you, Jungkook turned and nodded at the guards, who opened the door of a chamber whose walls were frescoed with angels and saints, likely by Taehyung, giving off the impression one was in Heaven. When you saw him sat on a golden chair, old and grey, enjoying the tune of a lute player, you felt as though you’d just entered Hell.

The audience lasted for ever. While you stood by the door, Jungkook showed the Pope some sketches of the portrait for him to choose his favourite and then they talked and talked of politics. All you could do was fix your gaze somewhere on the floor and sigh.

“Yes, Your Holiness, this is the servant I mentioned…” A frown proceeded your looking up to see Jungkook somewhat embarrassed, scratching his nose as if to hide his face. He talked of you to others? Doubtless to complain…

With a sweet voice as if he was talking to a little girl, the Pope asked you, “What is your name?”

“None of your business, Your Holiness.”

The musician’s tune ceased abruptly, allowing Jungkook’s faint gasp to be heard. Then fell a short silence spent by the Pope blinking, taken aback. “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me.”

Jungkook was quick to fake a laugh, though sweat formed at his temples. “A jest! She meant no offence, Your Holiness, but to make you laugh.”

You held the Pope’s glare in defiance, indifferent to the fact he was the most powerful man in the whole of Christendom.

By some miracle, he let it go, and you left that chamber minutes later with your head as yet attached to your body. Your arm wouldn’t be for much longer, though, given Jungkook was forcibly dragging you all the way out to the streets, pushing you into the first alley he saw.

“Are you out of your mind?!” he shouted, towering over you menacingly. Unlike the day you’d met, you weren’t scared, rather furious as him as you stood your ground. “That was the Pope, you fool!”

“So?”

Jungkook was in utter disbelief. “He could’ve ordered your execution– mine too!”

“Well, nothing happened!”

“Nothing?! I’m sure to fall out of favour!” He paced around, anxiety quickening his breath. “Years of pouring my soul into my craft, of grovelling before the right people, all thrown away! Good God, your attitude may cost me everything…”

“And what about me?! Everything lost to me does not matter?!”

Jungkook stopped to frown. “What the hell are you talking about?”

It was now you who walked up to him. “I didn’t have a job, or a reputation, or admirers. I had only a family, and I never wished for anything else! That monster you work for took them from me. When the foreigners’ armies came and everyone rushed to Castel Sant’Angelo, he gave the order to close the gates as soon as he was safe behind them! You must have been there with him, weren’t you? Well, we weren’t. We were left outside to be slaughtered. And I wish I had been, like my parents, so I didn’t have to suffer the likes of you any longer!”

Tears were streaming down your face by the end, Jungkook just staring back at you. It didn’t surprise him that your parents were dead or that they’d been killed during the Sack, but that it was so deep a wound left festering in your heart that you didn’t mind being put out of misery. He surmised your disrespectful behaviour towards him was also fruit of your pain, especially if you deemed him an ally of the one who caused it.

“The few things I own… They’re wasted on me. Throw them away or give them to your next servant,” you sobbed, taking for granted you were fired. Anyone with half a brain would indeed have you dismissed, and part of you knew it was bound to happen, that you would go back to breaking in fucking churches to spend the night.

So you turned around into the main street, set on wandering until your legs became too sore not to collapse. With any luck, a carriage would run over you. But warmth then surrounded your hand, and you looked down to see Jungkook’s holding it tight enough to force you to halt. Though still mad, a hint of compassion sparkled in his eyes.

“Let’s… Let us just go home.”

Home. His house had felt so for a while now, truth be told. Himself too.

After that, you non-verbally agreed on a ceasefire—avoiding quarrels, that is, which was quite the task for both.

Such as now that Jungkook had you inking down a letter in his name. First of all, did you look like a scribe? If you’d known in advance the lazy arse would teach you to read and write for this, you’d have chosen to remain illiterate. And second, this was your short break before making dinner, intended to be spent playing with Bam. The poor thing was also in the study, at least being stroked by his owner, who was sat beside you on the desk.

“… I send you my regards, may God keep you from all harm. Jeon Jungkook in Rome,” he finally finished dictating, and you recording. “Give it to me, I’ll seal it.”

He was melting the wax with which to do so when the bell rang, to his surprise. Sighing, you stood up and went to open the door to whom turned out to be Jimin. The sight of him brightened you up, and yours stretched his lips into a smile.

“Evening, Y/N.”

“Good evening! I didn’t know the master was expecting you.”

“He isn’t…” You welcomed him in, brows joining at how he continuously chewed on his aforementioned lip and breathed deep through his nose as he followed you. Had something happened…? A decision to eavesdrop was made en route to the study.

Though Jimin requested for you to stay once there, and nothing could have prepared you for the reason why.

“This actually concerns Y/N…” You and Jungkook exchanged confused looks, him leaning against the desk and crossing arms as though he didn’t like the sound of that. Jimin fixed his already perfect clothes before addressing him, “I’ve come to ask for her hand in marriage.” Your jaw dropped. “I know it’s sudden at the lack of previous courtship, but I thought I should ask for your permission before engaging in it, maestro. She’s a lovely girl… and I think she’d be happy as my wife. Worry not, I won’t ask for a dowry or for her to stop working… Although on second thought, fewer hours of service would be ideal.”

This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be happening.

Jungkook must be thinking the same, for he squinted to ask, “Are you drunk?”

“N-No, of course not.”

“Are you sure? You want to marry a servant with little to her name.” He had a point, so you weren’t offended. If politics weren’t the reason for a union, did this mean… Jimin had feelings for you?

“Maestro, you say it as if I were a lord,” he chuckled. “I don’t care about Y/N’s possessions, I’ll provide for her anyway. I’ve… always been fond of her. And I dare say she shares the sentiment.”

Betrayal hid safely behind a look that asked if there was any truth to that. Obviously not! There was no romance in your own fondness for Jimin. If anything, you had thought he saw you as a younger sister to look after, therefore as a protective older brother you saw him. But so shocked were you still that no words managed to come out, and Jungkook’s gaze shifted back to Jimin.

“I’ll think about it. You may go.”

A curt tone was the norm for Jungkook, it was not being granted his blessing that disappointed Jimin. He knew for a fact he was an honourable man, so why wouldn't he entrust you to him?

“Quite well… I’ll show myself out.” he uttered, before making his leave failing to hide his low spirit by giving you one last shy smile you hadn’t the heart to return.

An awkward silence filled the air that even Bam daren’t break. Only once the front door was heard shutting did you walk closer to Jungkook.

“You won’t agree to this, will you?”

“Why shouldn’t I? I have to get rid of you at some point.”

“Rid of me? Like I’m a burden?” you asked, voice rising. How a servant could be so was unknown to you until, like wooden ship toys did when you’d submerge them in a bucket of water as a child, certain guesses surfaced in your thoughts. Trying to pickpocket him, the constant clashing, Biagio, that bath, the Pope… Yes, you may perhaps be described as a burden. But you didn’t want to leave. With a calmer tone, you pleaded, “I’ll behave from now on. I won’t cause any more trouble, I swear.”

Jungkook didn’t deign to look your way as he left, followed by Bam. “You have to marry at some point, Y/N. Otherwise people will gossip.”

Since when did he care about what people said of him? And why should you?

Winter having dropped its anchor, nightfall arrived early. Not early enough, you brooded as you cooked dinner, longing for the day to end once and for all. With any hope, all of this was a nightmare and upon waking up in the morning life would go back to normal. You didn’t even know why you wanted to stay with Jungkook, as the occasions in which you’d begged Jimin to employ you to leave this house were countless. The only certain thing was that you were upset.

Later, after washing all plates and cups, you began to put off all torches lighting the house, finding out in the hall that Jungkook hadn’t moved from the seat he’d dined in. You considered carrying on with your job and leaving him in the dark, but he wouldn’t find it as funny. Instead, you stood before him.

“Will that be all, master?”

The coldness in your expression made him sigh, “Y/N–”

“I shall retire, then.” You turned to leave but were made to stop in your tracks.

“It’s an advantageous proposal for you,” he lectured to whom he must believe an idiot. “Jimin works for me, he’s wealthy. A better match than you could ever aspire to. And he asks for no dowry because he doesn’t want money, he wants you…” His words were tainted with resentment. “He’ll take good care of you.”

Skirt of your dress swirling along, you faked a smile. “If you think so, master, then it must be so.”

He shook his head as he leaned back in defeat. “Suit yourself, but I won’t be the one to reject Jimin. You crush his heart.”

A laugh escaped you. “If you genuinely cared about him, you wouldn’t let him marry a woman in love with–” Oh no. It only hit you as you were saying it.

Jungkook had appeared annoyed, but now he was mad. “Who?” He stood up abruptly—chair’s feet scratching against the floor making you wince—and walked so close you were backed against the wall, face forced to turn to a side. In a low, deep voice, he repeated, less as a question and more as an order this time, “Who.”

There was no way in the nine circles of Hell you’d say it, when you didn’t want to believe it in the first place. For fuck’s sake, why? Jungkook only ever made you want to get away from him. That was the case right now, but then… why were your feet frozen?

Some unreasonable part of you seemed to have prevailed upon the others, casting away all resistance from your body and allowing yourself to indulge in Jungkook’s proximity. You met his eyes without fear, held his dark gaze. It didn’t take him long to work it out, yet he kept close, so close your unsteady breaths mingled, the effect akin to intoxication. He was visibly trying to hold back, telling himself it’d be a bad idea, but you prayed he wouldn’t care.

By God or the Devil, your prayers were heard.

Jungkook finally smashed his lips into yours, devouring them with a hunger you shared and felt growing as he gripped your waist to press you against him. A minute ago, you wouldn’t have imagined his tongue belonged inside your mouth, swirling around your own, and now you wanted it all over your body. As if reading your mind, Jungkook broke the ardent kiss to move down to your neck, which he licked painfully slowly before sucking hard, making you hiss with pleasure. He knew that would leave a mark, the bastard. You wondered if it was meant for Jimin, so he’d see you were Jungkook’s, and in such case you didn’t mind, let your eyelids close to enjoy it.

Steered by the lust possessing you, one hand grabbed his soft hair in a fistful, keeping his head in place where he was sweetly abusing your neck, while the other travelled southwards until it reached his crotch and held it over the trousers, feeling his cock stiffen. Jungkook groaned—a vibration to your skin—in retaliation lifting your skirt. You’d thought he'd take his time, tease you, but after ensuring you were wet enough by gliding his middle finger along your core, he slid it inside and began making beckoning motions.

“Master…” you moaned, legs shaking. Jungkook forsook your neck to pull back, watch how you struggled to keep it together as he added another finger, curling and uncurling them both, hitting all the right places, and unwilling to give him that satisfaction without consequences you groped his erection with the same vigour. Although he was in good control of his expression, his breath quivered against your lips, so he kissed them again, biting hard into your lower one.

He exhaled, “You’re driving me to sin…”

Indeed, the same fingers that held the brushes when he painted religious artwork were buried deep inside your cunt, bringing you the most sinful ecstasy. It made you chuckle. Jungkook took that as the mockery it was and, crossed, pulled his fingers out of you to drag you by the arm to the edge of the table, where he had you sit. Without delay he lifted your skirt again, only this time he also pulled down his trousers to reveal his cock, thick and throbbing, which he pumped as he watched you spread your legs eagerly, ready to take all of him.

With his free hand Jungkook cupped your cheek, thumb caressing your lower lip, coated with saliva and reddened still from when he’d bit it. He could sense your desire, that you craved him inside, had for a while. Desperately. And however much tempted he was to make you beg for it, his own arousal led his cock to your entrance and eased it inside already, another groan hitting the back of his bared teeth. You didn’t have time to gasp, his thrusts so quick they earned only moans, so wonderful did it feel.

Jungkook’s hand on your cheek then wrapped around your neck. “Do you know how often I’ve fantasised strangling you?”

You chuckled again as you slapped him across the face. Jungkook halted his movements in shock, glared at you. “And I slapping you?”

It took him a moment, but he scoffed and pushed you back so that you were lying down, climbing next atop you, confident that the wooden table was sturdy enough to hold both. So legs hooked around his torso and arms around his neck, you welcomed his thrusts, rough enough to make your eyes water. But it felt heavenly, how he ravished you... The mutual irritation and tension building up for over half a year translated into indescribable pleasure.

He kissed you again, flicking his tongue against yours as he pounded into you without mercy. Overwhelmed by the sensation, all you could do to express you were nearing your limit was sink your nails into Jungkook’s biceps at each side of you, moan inside his mouth. He took the hint and fucked you as fast as his body would allow, within mere seconds your walls clenching tight around him. The sight of you collapsing under him, overcome with bliss, made him reach his own highest shortly, spurting his warm seed inside you.

As his movements gradually ceased, so did your panting. Before a complete silence fell, you asked, “Am I still to marry Jimin?”

Jungkook grabbed your face and growled against your pouted lips, “You’re not going anywhere.”

Viktoria Tereshkina (center right), Elena Evseeva (center left), and two other students in their graduating class, Vaganova 2001.

pity party ₊˚ރ⊹゛p.sh

SUMMARY ! when everyone forgets sunghoon’s birthday, he ends up finding comfort from a warmhearted stranger on the bus ride home.

PAIRING ! stranger!sunghoon x gn!reader

WC ! 800

GENRE ! fluff, slight angst and comforting sad hoon :c

a/n: sorry it’s short, just a lil’ thing for our birthday boy <3

sunghoon’s eyes were getting watery, and he hated that. a lot.

his birthday isn’t a big deal, he isn’t twelve anymore; he should just be grateful for what he has, wipe away his cascading tears and man the hell up.

but as he slides onto the public bus and scans down the aisle full of exhausted college students, old drunkards, and middle aged mother’s gossiping on calls with their kids fidgeting frantically next to them, he can’t find himself caring when all their eyes lock onto his teary red face, pink bottom lip trembling as he sniffles every few seconds.

he makes his way down the column of busy seats, mindlessly plopping down onto the first free one he comes across. and at last, he reaches his hand up, wiping the salty droplets off his puffy cheeks sorrowfully.

god, he was being such a wimp.

before he could beat himself up any further, a hesitant soft voice abruptly interrupts him. “are.. are you okay?”

sunghoon whips his head to his left, brows rising at the sight of soft eyes glistening with worry and concern towards him, despite being a complete stranger.

you were attiring a puffy winter coat and a bright green scarf, one hand gripping onto the tote bag resting carefully by your chocolate shaded boots.

he gulps and wipes his face again, feeling even more humiliated with his current state. “y-yeah, thanks,” he barely voices out.

sunghoon watches in his peripheral vision as you continue to examine him, clearly having an inner debate on if you should leave the conversation at that. he almost began crying again at how cute you look in such deep thought.

you swallow, “what happened, if i may ask? ur— i mean, you don’t have to tell me obviously, but if you—“

“it’s okay,” he assures with a small smile. “it’s kinda stupid, anyway. just.. all- all my friends n’ stuff.. they forgot my birthday.” your eyes widen, heart breaking into pieces at his painful tone. “i mean, i don’t even care, seriously. i don’t know why i’m crying because it’s really not a big deal.”

it seems you could easily tell he was trying to convince himself more than you.

it’s silent for a beat, nothing but sunghoon’s faint sniffling surrounding the bus until you hesitantly reach over, placing your hand on top of his cold, shaky one. your fingers rub his knuckles, gently calming his distress with comforting glances.

sunghoon didn’t realise how touch starved he was; throat getting clogged as he bites his lip to prevent letting out another pitiful sob, watching the way your touches feather him as if he were a fragile vase.

suddenly, you speak up again rather confidently. “can i give you my number?”

he chokes, looking back up with widened eyes. “w-what?”

“so we can make a plan for tomorrow,” you explain. “for your birthday.”

you, a complete stranger that had just met him on probably one of the worst days of his life, wanted to celebrate his birthday with him? tomorrow?

before he can stop to think, he’s already pulled his phone out, dropping it into your grasp mindlessly as you begin making a new contact. sunghoon peers closely as you type in your name with a bus and crying emoji next to it, letting out a chuckle of disbelief.

at the sound of laughter you look up, grinning proudly once you finally see his fanged smile. “you’re going to have the best birthday ever tomorrow…?” you look at him in question.

“sunghoon.”

“well sunghoon, i’m a master at baking cakes, specifically birthday cakes with chocolate fudge,” you declare, wiggling your eyebrows playfully.

sunghoon doesn’t even like chocolate.

but at that moment he decides it’ll be his new favourite flavour in the world.

as he opens his mouth to reply and show his gratitude, the bus driver boisterously announces the next stop.

“shit,” you mutter, frantically standing up from your seat. “i’m so sorry, i wish i could’ve stayed with you longer, but this is my stop.” your face reflected genuine affliction; not wanting the poor boy to be alone just as he was for the rest of his special day.

sunghoon shakes his head, “no, no it’s fine. you- you already made me feel way better.”

your face brightens a bit, nodding as you achingly wave goodbye. “see you tomorrow.” you turn away, walking right to the front of the bus, tote bag hanging on your shoulder and wooly green scarf still tightly around your neck.

it felt like a last goodbye, like everything was in slow motion watching you leave him, even though he’d be seeing you tomorrow.

but right before you descend down the stairs, you gasp, turning around and making the other passengers frown in annoyance as you block their way.

“hey sunghoon!” you shout across the bus without a care in the world.

the boy in question gawks as you stare him down, eyes shimmering and a fond smile rushing to your chapped lips. “happy birthday!”

sunghoon’s eyes get watery again, but he hates it a bit less this time.

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