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elryuse · 2 days

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OUR NIGHT IN PARIS

TWICE MINA X MALE READER

Tags : Cold Mina, Younger Male Manager Reader, Fendi Fashion Week, Night In Paris

The Parisian air vibrated with a frenetic energy – a whirlwind of posh accents, clicking cameras, and the constant buzz of anticipation. Y/n, perpetually juggling his camera bag and a clipboard overflowing with Mina's schedule, weaved through the throngs of people at the airport. A few paces ahead walked Mina, the Kpop idol he managed. Her face, as always, was an unreadable mask – a carefully cultivated persona of the aloof ice queen.

"Mina!" Y/n called out, his voice barely audible over the din. "Don't forget your sunglasses! The paparazzi will be brutal."

Mina turned, a flicker of something akin to annoyance crossing her porcelain features. "I know," she said, her voice clipped and emotionless. It was a familiar exchange, this dance they'd perfected over the years. Y/n, the ever-organized and cheerful manager, and Mina, the stoic and fiercely independent star.

Yet, sometimes, when their eyes met in fleeting moments, Y/n swore he saw a spark – a hint of warmth that contradicted her icy exterior. He knew the pressures she faced – the relentless schedules, the constant scrutiny, the never-ending need to be perfect. It weighed heavily on her, a burden she rarely spoke of.

They arrived at their luxurious hotel suite overlooking the Seine. Y/n busied himself unpacking Mina's designer clothes while she retreated to the bathroom. From behind the closed door, a soft sigh reached his ears.

"Y/n," she called out, her voice softer than he was used to. "Can you come here for a moment, please?"

He approached the bathroom cautiously, a knot of apprehension forming in his stomach. Mina stood by the sink, her face bare of makeup, showcasing the vulnerability etched around her eyes. There was a raw desperation in her gaze that sent a jolt through him.

"Mina, is everything alright?" he asked, concern lacing his voice.

She took a deep breath, her perfect facade crumbling around the edges. "No, Y/n," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. "Everything is… not alright. At least, not the way it should be."

Y/n's heart hammered against his ribs. He'd never seen her like this, so vulnerable, so… real. "What's wrong, Mina? You can tell me," he urged, his voice gentle.

She reached out, her hand trembling slightly as it grasped his. The warmth of her touch sent a shiver down his spine. "Y/n," she began, her voice barely above a breath. "You… you have no idea how much I…"

Her words trailed off, replaced by a frustrated growl. Y/n, emboldened by her vulnerability, decided to take a chance. "Mina," he said softly. "You can tell me anything."

She met his gaze, her eyes blazing with an intensity that left him breathless. "I want you, Y/n," she confessed, her voice husky with suppressed desire. "I've wanted you for months, maybe even years."

Y/n's breath hitched. This was a revelation, a secret confession that shattered the carefully constructed image of the cold, unapproachable star. "Mina… I…" he stammered, unsure of how to respond.

Tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill over. "Don't you get it? This whole facade, it's killing me! I can't pretend anymore. I want to be with you, Y/n. Not as your manager, but as…" Her voice trailed off, a blush creeping up her neck.

Y/n understood. As manager, he was expected to maintain a professional distance. But the truth was, he had harbored a secret crush on Mina for a long time, his feelings masked by his cheerful demeanor.

"Mina," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I… I feel the same way. But… this can't happen. What about your career? What about the fans?"

She scoffed, a hint of her fiery personality returning. "The fans? They don't know the real me. They only see the carefully packaged idol they want to see." Her gaze softened. "But you, Y/n, you see me. All of me. The good, the bad, the scared little girl beneath the glitter and the costumes."

He cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing away the tears that escaped. "And I love everything I see," he confessed, his voice a husky murmur.

A hungry glint ignited in Mina's eyes. Before he could react, she grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the plush bed in the center of the room. With a swift movement, she tossed him onto the soft sheets, her body following in a flurry of silk and lace. Y/n landed with a soft gasp, his heart pounding against his ribs in a chaotic rhythm. Mina straddled him, her weight a delicious pressure on his lower body.

"Don't worry about the outside world, Y/n," she whispered, her voice husky with desire. "Tonight, it's just you and me."

Her eyes, usually cool and distant, were now ablaze with an inferno, reflecting the fire that burned bright within him. He reached out, hesitantly at first, tracing the delicate curve of her cheekbone with his thumb. Her breath hitched, and she leaned into his touch, a silent plea for him to take control.

"Mina," he breathed, his voice thick with a mixture of fear and desire. "Are you sure about this?"

A smile, genuine and breathtaking, curved her lips. "Never been more sure in my life."

With newfound confidence, Y/n cupped her face and tilted it towards his. The space between their lips dwindled, the air thick with anticipation. When their lips finally met, it was an explosion of pent-up emotions. The kiss was desperate and hungry, a clash of tongues and heated breaths that spoke volumes more than words ever could.

He explored her mouth with a reverence that surprised even himself, his fingers trailing down her back, sending shivers down her spine. Her response was immediate – a low moan escaping her lips as she arched into his touch. Her hands, usually adorned with expensive rings, dug into his shirt, pulling him closer, anchoring him to her.

The silk of her dress, a delicate shade of lavender, became an obstacle, a barrier he needed to overcome. His fingers fumbled with the zipper, a silent struggle that only heightened their anticipation. With a soft sigh of relief, the dress fell away, revealing a glimpse of her flawless skin beneath.

Mina gasped, a mixture of surprise and delight at his sudden boldness. But her surprise was quickly replaced by a fierce possessiveness. Her hands roamed his body, tracing the contours of his chest, lingering on the toned muscles of his arms.

"Y/n," she breathed, her voice laced with a newfound vulnerability.

He responded by peppering kisses down her neck, his lips trailing down to the soft skin of her collarbone. Her whimpers of delight fueled the fire burning within him. He trailed his kisses further, his hands reaching the hem of her black lace lingerie, sending a jolt of electricity through him as his fingers grazed the smooth skin of her stomach.

A gasp escaped her lips as he unhooked the delicate clasp, the wispy fabric falling away like a discarded dream. He paused, his gaze locked on her beautiful body, a masterpiece revealed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Mina met his gaze, her eyes filled with a mixture of desire and a hint of shyness that sent a wave of protectiveness through him.

"Y-you're beautiful," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

The compliment, simple as it was, seemed to break the last dam holding back her desires. "Take me, Y/n," she breathed, her voice rough with passion. "Take everything I have to offer."

He no longer hesitated. With a surge of possessiveness that surprised even him, he cupped her face and deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring the sweet recesses of her mouth with a newfound urgency. He explored her body further, his touch sending shivers down her spine as he traced every curve and dip.

Mina responded with a fervor that surprised him. The ice queen facade was completely gone, replaced by a woman consumed by raw desire. Her moans and gasps filled the room, a symphony of passion that echoed in his ears long after.

The night unfolded in a whirlwind of tangled limbs and stolen kisses. They explored each other's bodies with a newfound urgency, their inhibitions melting away with each touch. Y/n, usually shy and reserved, found himself taking control, his voice husky with desire as he whispered sweet nothings in her ear.

Mina, the dominant one in most aspects of their lives, reveled in his newfound boldness. She surrendered to his touch, her body responding to his every command with a fervor that left him breathless. As the night wore on, the initial urgency gave way to a deeper connection. Their movements became more synchronized, a wordless communication guided by instinct and an overwhelming need for each other.

As dawn painted streaks of pink across the Parisian sky, they lay entangled in the sheets, their breaths ragged and their bodies flushed with the afterglow. The silence was comfortable, a shared secret language only they understood.

"Mina," Y/n whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "W-We can't keep doing this," he finished, his voice laced with a mix of exhilaration and trepidation. The weight of reality settled over them like a cool autumn breeze after a scorching summer day.

Mina, nestled in the crook of his arm, let out a soft sigh. "I know," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. Her eyes, though still shimmering with the afterglow of their night, held a hint of worry.

The fashion week, the meticulously planned schedule, the constant scrutiny of the media – it all seemed distant and irrelevant at the moment. But they knew it wouldn't stay that way.

Y/n brushed a stray strand of hair from Mina's face. "What about the fans?" he asked, his voice barely above a murmur.

She bit her lip, a flicker of defiance crossing her beautiful features. "The fans love authenticity, Y/n. Maybe, just maybe, by showing a more human side, I can connect with them on a deeper level."

The idea resonated with him. He had witnessed firsthand the pressure Mina faced to maintain an unrealistic image. Maybe, just maybe, this could be a chance for her to finally be herself.

"But what about the company?" he continued, worry creasing his brow. "They wouldn't be happy, to say the least."

Mina, ever the strategist, offered a solution. "We can keep it a secret, at least for now. But we need a plan, a way for us to be together openly sometime in the future."

Y/n's mind raced. He knew the challenges they faced were immense, but the memory of their night, the raw connection they shared, fueled his determination.

"We'll figure it out," he said, his voice filled with newfound confidence. He squeezed her hand gently. "But for now, let's just enjoy this moment."

The following days in Paris were a whirlwind of stolen glances, secret touches, and late-night conversations that stretched into the early hours. They explored the city together, hand-in-hand under the cloak of anonymity, sharing experiences they could never have had back in Seoul.

The pressure of the industry seemed to melt away in each other's presence. Mina's smile became genuine, her laughter unrestrained. Y/n, witnessing this transformation, felt a surge of protectiveness towards her. He understood now the burden she carried, the weight of expectation on her young shoulders.

One evening, as they stood on the Pont Alexandre III overlooking the Seine, a sense of calm settled over them. The city lights twinkled in the water, casting a magical glow on their faces. Mina turned to Y/n, her eyes sparkling with newfound confidence.

"Thank you, Y/n," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "Thank you for seeing me, for believing in me."

He cupped her face in his hands, his gaze filled with tenderness. "It was always you, Mina. The idol, the performer, all that… It's amazing, but it's just a part of you. The real you, the one I see now, that's the one I fell in love with."

Their lips met in a kiss, a silent promise under the Parisian sky. The road ahead wouldn't be easy, but they knew they would face it together, their love story a secret symphony playing in the heart of the City of Lights.

Back in Seoul, the carefully constructed facade resumed, but something had fundamentally changed. Their stolen moments, the shared secret buried deep within them, fueled their love and determination. Y/n, emboldened by their experience, started subtly advocating for Mina to show more vulnerability in her public persona. Their collaboration resulted in a poignant ballad that spoke of inner strength and overcoming societal pressures. The song resonated deeply with fans, establishing a new level of connection between Mina and her audience.

Months later, fueled by public support and Mina's increasing popularity, they decided to take a leap of faith. In a daring move, Y/n announced his resignation as Mina's manager, citing artistic differences. The news sent shockwaves through the industry, but their carefully crafted public statement, hinting at a desire to pursue creative independence, softened the blow.

A few weeks later, another bombshell dropped. Mina released a new vlog titled "My Story." In the video, she shed the idol mask, baring her struggles and aspirations, and finally acknowledging her love for Y/n. The internet exploded, but the overwhelmingly positive response from fans surprised everyone.

Their love story, a testament to authenticity and courage, resonated with millions. It sparked conversations about mental health in the industry and challenged unrealistic expectations placed on idols.

Though not without its challenges, Mina and Y/n built a new career together. They formed their own agency, one that Though not without its challenges, Mina and Y/n built a new career together. They formed their own agency, one that prioritized artist well-being and embraced vulnerability. Their path wasn't easy – there were lost endorsements, disgruntled executives, and the constant scrutiny of the media.

But they weathered it all, their love story a shield against the storm. Mina thrived creatively, her music exploring uncharted territory of raw emotions and social commentary. Y/n, his passion reignited, became her creative partner, co-writing and directing her music videos.

One rainy night in their shared apartment in Seoul, they reminisced about their Parisian escape. The city lights twinkling outside the window mirrored the sparks in their eyes.

"Remember that first night?" Mina asked, her voice laced with a playful smile as she snuggled closer on the couch.

Y/n chuckled, a warmth spreading through him at the memory. "How could I forget? You broke the ice queen act with a bang."

Her playful smile faltered slightly. "I was scared, Y/n. Scared of losing everything I had built."

He reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "But you gained something far more valuable – freedom, and love."

Her eyes locked with his, a familiar heat rising in their chests. The rain outside became a white noise as their gazes held a conversation that needed no words. In a silent agreement, they moved in unison.

Y/n carried her to the bedroom, the familiarity of their bodies a comforting reminder of their journey. The clothes came off in a flurry, their skin meeting with a delicious warmth. This time, the urgency was replaced by a tenderness that spoke volumes. They explored each other with a newfound appreciation, their touches laced with love and respect.

Mina, no longer the domineering force of their first encounter, surrendered to his touch. Her moans were soft, laced with a hint of vulnerability that sent shivers down his spine. He whispered sweet nothings in her ear, each word a promise of forever.

As dawn painted the cityscape a soft orange, they lay entwined, their breaths synchronized in a peaceful rhythm. The rain had stopped, leaving the world washed clean and fresh.

Y/n brushed a kiss to her forehead. "We did it, Mina," he whispered.

A sleepy smile graced her lips. "We did, Y/n. We did."

In the quiet intimacy of their love nest, they knew their journey had just begun. The city outside might have been Seoul, but in their shared world, Paris, with all its stolen moments and whispered promises, would forever hold a special place – a testament to their love story, a love that dared to break the mold and embrace the beauty of imperfection.

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elryuse · 1 day

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WANT YOU BACK

WINTER X MALE READER

Tags : Possessive EX GF Winter, Pregnancy, Cheating, Teasing, Creampie, Quickie

Winter choked back a sob, the smoky jazz club blurring into a canvas of swirling lights and pounding bass. Across the crowded dance floor, Y/n's laughter echoed, a sound that once brought sunshine into her days and now felt like a cruel taunt. He was happy. Genuinely, radiantly happy with his new girlfriend, Karina – a vision of effortless beauty draped on his arm.

Regret gnawed at Winter's insides, a ravenous beast that had been growing stronger with every passing day. A year ago, Y/n had been her world. The kindest, most patient boyfriend a girl could ask for. But Winter, fueled by a twisted yearning for excitement and the allure of a "bad boy" fantasy, had thrown it all away. Now, the sight of his happiness with someone else ignited a firestorm of jealousy and a terrifying realization: what if she'd lost him forever?

Panic clawed at her. She couldn't lose Y/n. Not entirely. A twisted plan, fueled by possessiveness and a warped sense of entitlement, began to take shape in her mind. She would get him back, even if it meant manipulation and control.

Excusing herself from her date, Winter weaved through the throng of dancing bodies, her eyes fixated on Y/n. As she approached, she noticed a flicker of surprise followed by a cautious warmth in his eyes.

"Winter??" he greeted, his voice laced with a hint of apprehension. Karina, sensing the tension, shot her a withering look.

"C-can I talk for a minute… alone?" Winter purred, her voice dripping with forced vulnerability.

Y/n hesitated, his gaze flitting between Winter and Karina. Karina rolled her eyes and reluctantly excused herself. Winter led Y/n to a secluded corner, excitement bubbling beneath the surface.

"I-i shouldn't have done what I did Y/n, " she began, her voice trembling slightly. A performance worthy of an Oscar. "You were the best thing that ever happened to my life, A-and I threw it all away."

Y/n, ever the believer in second chances, looked at her with a mixture of empathy and residual hurt. "W-winter," he started, his voice gentle. "Karina and I—"

"I know," she cut him off, tears welling up in her eyes. "But maybe… just maybe.." she trailed off, letting the unspoken suggestion hang heavy in the air.

Y/n sighed, torn between his loyalty to Karina and his lingering emotions for Winter. "Winter, we can't just—"

Winter leaned in, her voice a seductive whisper. "Just one night, Y/n. Let me show you what I've been missing. What you've been missing."

Her words, laced with a desperate yearning, struck a chord in Y/n. Memories flooded back - stolen kisses, whispered secrets, the warmth of her hand in his. He couldn't deny the lingering feelings, the pull of a familiarity that resonated deep within him.

In the dimly lit corner, away from the prying eyes of the club, they fell into each other's arms. The kiss ignited a spark within them, a wildfire fueled by pent-up emotions and unspoken desires. It was a desperate kiss, raw and hungry, like two drowning souls clinging to a lifeline. "I knew you wanted it..". Winter whispers, Her voice desperate of affection.

Winter's touch was a stark contrast to the carefree affection Karina so readily bestowed upon Y/n. Her fingers dug into his back, a possessive hold that sent shivers down his spine. His hand tangled in her hair, pulling her closer as their lips met in a frenzied dance. "Fuck Me Y/n.. Fuck me..". Winter begged, as she began to undress.

"W-winter s-slow down". The air crackled with electricity. Winter's eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, flickered with a possessiveness that made Y/n's breath hitch. There was a hunger in her gaze, a desperate need for control that sent a shiver down his spine. This wasn't the sweet affection they once shared; it was a darkness that both terrified and enticed him. "Cum... Cum inside me... Stay with me like this.. Please..". Winter begged, as finally Y/n released strings of his cum deep inside her womb.

As they stumbled back, breathless and flushed, a sense of foreboding settled over Y/n. There was a possessiveness in Winter's behavior that hadn't been there before. He knew this stolen night was no reconciliation, but a twisted game he was being drawn into against his better judgment.

Winter's eyes gleamed with a predatory glint. "This feels like coming home," she whispered, her voice husky with desire before she kissed him once again.

But in the pit of Y/n's stomach, a chilling premonition bloomed. He wasn't sure he was coming home, but rather entering a dark labyrinth, lured back by a love that had turned possessive and manipulative.

Winter cradled the positive pregnancy test in her hand, her emotions a tangled mess. Relief warred with a horrifying sense of manipulation. This wasn't the happy reunion she'd envisioned. This was a twisted trap sprung on Y/n.

The stolen night in the club had been fuelled by desperation, not love. It had served its purpose, though. Winter had him back, tethered to her by an invisible chain: the baby growing within her.

The next morning, she played the heartbroken victim. Tears streamed down her face as she confessed to Y/n about the test. "We can't pretend this didn't happen," she cried, knowing full well he wouldn't abandon a child.

Y/n, ever the good guy, fell into the trap. He felt responsible, obligated. But every visit to Winter's apartment felt like a descent into a suffocating prison. Her possessiveness escalated with each passing day.

"You can't see Karina anymore," Winter declared one evening, her voice laced with a chilling finality. Y/n protested, reminding her of Karina's innocence in all this. "This is between us, Y/n," Winter hissed, a manic glint in her eyes. "You're mine now."

He tried to explain the situation to Karina, but guilt choked his words. In the end, the confused silence and strained distance became too much for her to bear. She broke up with him, heartbroken and bewildered.

Winter celebrated this "victory" with a chilling smile. Y/n was now truly hers, isolated and trapped. She used the pregnancy as a weapon, a constant reminder of his supposed transgression. "Every scan, every milestone," she'd say, her voice dripping with faux sweetness, "a reminder of what we had."

Yet, with each passing week, the facade of happiness wore thin. Winter felt a growing resentment towards the child, a constant reminder of her deceit. But most of all, she resented Y/n. His forced presence, his hollow attempts at conversation, only amplified the emptiness within her.

One night, as Y/n sat awkwardly on the couch, Winter launched into a tirade. "You don't love me! You never did!" she screamed, tears streaming down her face. "Y-you just feel sorry for me!"

Y/n, worn down by the constant emotional abuse, snapped. "I do care about you, Winter," he said, his voice tired. "But I can't love someone who holds me hostage with threats and guilt."

His words hung in the air, heavy and final. Winter recoiled, a flicker of fear replacing the anger in her eyes. She might have trapped him physically, but emotionally, she'd pushed him to the edge.

The flicker of fear in Winter's eyes was fleeting, replaced by a cold glint that sent shivers down Y/n's spine. He'd seen that look before, in the dimly lit corner of the club – the predator assessing its prey.

"Hostage?" she scoffed, her voice dripping with a terrifying calmness. "I gave you a chance, Y/n. A chance to be a family. Maybe you don't love me, but you'll learn."

Her next words were a chilling whisper. "Besides, where would you go? Do you really think Karina would take you back after this?"

Y/n's stomach churned. She was right. Shame choked him, muting any further protest. Winter sensed his resignation and a victorious smile curled her lips. This was where the game truly began.

The following weeks were a whirlwind of doctor's appointments, baby preparations, and a suffocating sense of control. Winter micromanaged everything, making Y/n feel like a visitor in his own life. His attempts at connecting with the child felt staged, a constant performance under Winter's watchful eye.

Yet, a strange sense of normalcy settled in. Winter stopped mentioning Karina entirely, reveling in the fact that Y/n was trapped. Slowly, she started subtly chipping away at his support system. A "forgotten" work call from Y/n that turned into a week-long business trip. A "sudden illness" that kept his friends from visiting.

Y/n, worn down by the constant emotional manipulation and guilt trips, barely noticed the isolation. He became a ghost in his own life, existing only to fulfill his "duties" as a father and a reluctant partner.

Years passed. Winter birthed two more children, each arrival a twisted celebration of her victory. Y/n remained a shell of his former self, a ghost trapped in a gilded cage of her own making. Winter, however, thrived. Her possessiveness had morphed into a twisted sense of ownership. Y/n belonged to her now, a trophy on her emotional shelf.

One cold evening, as the older children played in the living room, Winter snuggled close to Y/n on the couch. "See?" she purred, her voice laced with satisfaction. "We have a family now. Just like what you always wanted."

Y/n's eyes, devoid of their former warmth, met hers. There was no love in them, no regret, no longing. The years of manipulation had hollowed him out. He was simply a shadow, a reminder of the love she'd destroyed and the life they could have had.

A cold smile settled on Winter's face. In her twisted mind, this was their happy ending. Her ultimate victory. She had Y/n, and that was all that mattered. The love she'd craved, the genuine connection, was a forgotten casualty in her war for control. Winter had built her prison, bricked with manipulation and guilt, and in the process, had become as trapped as the man she held captive.