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wooyoungmybelovedhusband · 10 months

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ʕ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 1.00 - 'ᴍʀ.ᴘᴀʀᴋ??' ʔ

ヾᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ : ᴄᴇᴏ! ᴘᴀʀᴋ ꜱᴇᴏɴɢʜᴡᴀ x ꜱᴇᴄʀᴇᴛᴀʀʏ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ヾꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ/ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ : ʜᴇʀᴇ

ヾ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ : ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀʟʟ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ ʜᴀᴅ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴏᴡɴ ʟɪᴠᴇꜱ, ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴘᴏɴᴅᴇʀɪɴɢ ꜰᴇᴇʟɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ᴍᴀᴋᴇꜱ ʏᴏᴜ Qᴜᴇꜱᴛɪᴏɴ, ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ Qᴜɪᴛ?

ヾᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ : ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴀʟʟᴇʀɢɪᴇꜱ

ヾᴅɪꜱᴄʟᴀɪᴍᴇʀ : ᴀʟᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ ɪᴛ ɪꜱ ꜱᴀɪᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪᴛ'ꜱ ᴀ "ᴡʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ᴡʀᴏɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ꜱᴇᴄʀᴇᴛᴀʀʏ ᴋɪᴍ" ᴋ-ᴅʀᴀᴍᴀ ᴀᴜ, ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀ ʟᴏᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇꜱ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀᴄᴛᴜᴀʟ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏʟɪɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀɪꜱᴛɪᴄꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ.

You suck in a harsh breath, your hands grip tightly onto the tablet that was placed on your lap. You try hard to focus on the meeting and the men speaking in front of you but you couldn't help but sniffle under your breath. Your eyes water slightly after turning red as you try hard to contain yourself from sneezing hard. Your hands subtly try to push away the big bouquet of roses kept next to you. But it doesn't go unnoticed by the sharp pair of dark eyes which hold no emotions, Seonghwa cocks his head towards your side.

His eyebrows cocks up in confusion when he finds your eyes get red and watery. But he decides to let it slide for the moment before focusing back onto Hongjoong who stood in front of the board of officers. Though the thought doesn't leave his mind as to why you pushed away the flowers so aggressively.

Your heels make loud noises against the floor while you make your way into the elevator next to Seonghwa. There is a weird not-so awkward silence between the both of you, if your older self would be in the same situation, you could see yourself getting suffocated in seconds. But now you have to come to get used to these silences. As you walk into his room, you place the files down and finally decide to break the silence. "Mr.Park I would like to inform you that, I will be taking a leave tomorrow for personal reasons."

Seonghwa's eyebrows cock up in surprise as he fixes his overcoat a little, "Don't I have to attend a party hosted by the Sumyung group? It's postponed to tomorrow right?" His expressions stay unreadable, but his unbelievable tone is definitely hard to not notice. "Yes Mr.Park, that's correct. But you will have to deal with it yourself for tomorrow, and I've already arranged Secretary.Do to take care of your usual necessities." A scoff escapes from him as he stares at you in disbelief, "Then what about my date? Aren't you usually the one who stays by my side in these parties?"

"I've got that covered too, Mr.Park, the top model of Korea, Song Hyunju, the ambassador for YSL, must have been familiar to you. I've done some research on her, and found out her father is one of the shareholders of your father's company. She will be your date for tomorrow." Why the fuck are you so smart, Hwang. Seonghwa mutters to himself, not getting why he was annoyed at the fact that you wouldn't be by his side for a whole day. "If that is all, I will leave you here Mr.Park"

"WAIT MS.HWANG ARE YOU REALLY GOING ON A BLIND DATE?" Ji-yeon screams loudly, almost making it audible for everyone in the bathroom stall. You instantly try to shush her down, panicking that someone must have heard her. "Omg Jiyeon-shi calm down, and yes I am" You say with your usual smile on your face just the fact that you were hiding how scared you were for the so-called blind date your friend set you up with.

"Y/n-ah you really need a personal life other than being your stuck-up CEO's secretary" You let out a sigh, not being able to deny your friends, Yuna's words. "Well what can I do then, not like I get any free time other than running behind him." Yuna lets out a pitiful sigh before inhaling sharply, "Well, you are going to make some free time because you're going on a blind date with my boyfriend's best friend next week." Your eyes widen from her words, "WAIT WHAT? WHAT BLIND DATE, WHO?"

"That is exactly why it is a blind date, Silly." Your shoulders slump down and you let out a defeated sigh knowing well that you won't be able to say no to her. "Well what am I going to do with Seonghwa? How am I going to get any free time?" Yuna shrugs at your questions, "I don't know, just tell him you're going to take a holiday or something." "I- Fine"

"With who?- well I mean, It's a blind date, but i can't wait to hear what happens on your date." You let out a chuckle at the other girl, who couldn't hide her excitement for you. "I'll definitely let you know about it all" You weren't surprised to hear the most excited squeal from her as you walked out of the bathroom.

You walk out of the door of the fancy table, walking next to your date. Your heels click on the pathway, and just as you raise your head, your eyes widen at the sight. "MR.PARK??"

175 notes · View notes

hongjoongscafe · 2 years

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Heal Our Love

Day 2 of the blogversary drabble week.

Pairing: ceo!husband!seonghwa×wife!oc (A-Yeong)

Genre: angst, fluff, smut.

Summary: he wanted a wife.

Warnings: mentions of alcohol addiction, unprotected sex (you do that and I will hit you unpleasantly), creampie, dirty talk, oral fem., Oppa kink(for @cheline 💓😆)(Lemme know if there is anything else.)

Word count: 5.8k

Note: AU idea and the beautiful fiction picture by our lovely @nanibecute. Thank you so much😘💓

Drabble week masterlist

Masterpost

*DO NOT REPOST, PLZ*

The loud roar of a sports car echoed in the stillness of the night, indicating his arrival. A-Yeong got up from the couch and stood in front of the main door. Knew very well that her husband would get angry if she wasn't there to greet him and take his briefcase from him and offer him water or whatever he asks for.

A-Yeong, a young twenty-two years old girl who got herself wrapped with twenty-five years old Seonghwa, the CEO of Park Enterprises. The most famous and rich business is very much popular in South Korea, Dubai, and America. They have many high-end hotels and other businesses around the world, mainly in the aforementioned places but working on other projects in various other countries.

It keeps Seonghwa fairly busy that he sometimes forgets that he has someone waiting for him back home. But it doesn't make him feel bad, he doesn't care. He is also known as the coldest of the CEOs. He loathes if someone makes a mistake in any way. Even if it is his wife, managers, employees, or even his friends and parents, he will make them realize the worst way possible.

A-Yeong wasn't rich but she got a scholarship and was able to study in the best business school in London, England. That's where she met with Seonghwa.

It didn't take time for her to fall in love with Seonghwa. Unable to resist, she let her feelings be wild in front of him. As she expected, he was cold as ice. He didn't insult her specifically but did call her an idiot for feeling such things for him.

But a few months later he contacted her. By now, she was studying and he was already back in Korea and was handling his CEO position. Seonghwa was smart, he knew well about A-Yeong. She was a kind, smart, and intelligent girl. She carried softness around her and welcomed everyone. But this was something he thought was stupid. No one should be this open and welcoming in his perspective. It will only ruin them internally.

Seonghwa needed a wife. And A-Yeong needed him. Even after he moved away after unintentionally breaking her heart, he knew she still loved him. So he used this to his benefit.

He asked her to marry him. That way, he could get what he wanted and she would get what she wanted. As he thought, she agreed in a breath and moved to Korea to marry him. She didn't drop out but shifted to online classes that Seonghwa was more than responsible for paying for.

So, here she was, waiting for her oh-so-lovely husband to come inside and order her like she is a maid.

The door opened and Seonghwa sighed. He loosened his tie and looked at A-Yeong with one eyebrow raised. "Welcome back home, Oppa," she bowed and took the briefcase from his hand, and gave him space to move inside. One rule he had was for her to always call him Oppa, it kinda took her by surprise but didn't say anything.

"Dinner?" He asked as he made his way towards his bedroom on the second floor.

"I'll reheat it by the time you are done," she mumbled.

A-Yeong left his briefcase in his home office and went into the kitchen to reheat the food. Seonghwa always left a slip every morning on which he left his demand for dinner or whichever meal he would be back for.

He never showed her emotions. She only wanted him to realize that her love was not a joke. The first thing she was upset about was the fact that he didn't tell her that he asked her to marry him for business purposes. If only she knew.

"A-Yeong?" Her eyes widened after hearing his voice after nine months. She didn't know if she should be happy or not.

"S-Seonghwa?" She stuttered.

"Do you still love me?" He simultaneously asked.

"I—"

"Marry me. Come to Korea. I want you."

"Bu—"

"I'll book your flight and pay for your online classes. Don't worry about anything," with that he hung up, leaving A-Yeong shocked.

The table was set up with the food. Seonghwa had to admit that she made delicious food. He sat there with A-Yeong on the other side. The only thing going inside his head was his work. He never asked her about how she was or how her studies were going.

On the other end, she always thought about him. Her mind wouldn't be at peace until he was back at home. He was careless when it came to his own health and it bothered her.

A-Yeong's thoughts got corrupted by the day they both fought—

"Oppa, I only asked for love! Can't you give that!?" She screamed at him.

"I don't love you! Who told you that!?" He screamed back after aggressively shutting his laptop.

"You asked me to marry you!" Her face was red, tears running down her soft cheeks.

"It doesn't mean that I love you or anything."

A-Yeong stiffened. She could hear her broken heart crumble. "Then why would you… marry me? I-I'm not even rich," she whispered.

"It's not always about money. Sometimes it's about reputation and respect," he harshly replied.

"There is no respect for me…" she sobbed.

"...my respect in the business world," he said and went outside of his home office, slamming shut the door behind him.

"At least recognize me," she whispered to no one and sat there, crying the whole night.

A-Yeong held her tears back. Wanting to get over this awkward dinner, she quickly finished her meal and went into her room… separate room.

She has always dreamed of a perfect romantic novel-type life, with a loving husband and possibly two children but that was the farthermost thing for now. Her husband doesn't even look at her let alone love her– both mentally and physically.

His sick games were too much for her fragile heart. There was nothing much she want, just love. Like any other person with feelings, she wanted to feel like she was needed and wanted for real and not for someone's reputation or respect– something she wasn't getting.

"Mom?" She spoke when her mother picked up the call.

"Yes, sweetheart?" Her mother's soft voice spoke.

"I'm gonna catch a flight tomorrow and I'll be coming back to London," A-Yeong informed, trying not to burst into tears.

"Oh, honey! It's been so long. Is everything oky? Why so suddenly?" Her voice came out worried.

A-Yeong's eyes shed some silent tears, "everything is great. I just wanna go back home…" I wanna feel loved, was what she wanted to say.

"Oky, honey. I'll be waiting for you. It's been more than two years. Ah! I'm excited! Is Seonghwa coming?" Her mother asked.

"Ah, Oppa is busy with his work. You know they are working on many projects so he won't," she felt bitter not telling her mother the whole truth.

"Really? He works so much. Tell him to rest from me, will you?"

"Sure!" She wiped her tears with the back of her hands. "I should go now. I'll text you before catching the flight."

…

It was nine in the morning, and Seonghwa finally came down. Dressed in his expensive Louis Vuitton suit, he was ready to leave after his breakfast. The house looked far too empty and quiet compared to other days. A-Yeong wasn't in the kitchen as she usually would.

'She must have gone to the farmers market,' he thought to himself and opened the microwave where his breakfast was. Just a typical A-Yeong, still worrying for Seonghwa's health.

Seonghwa felt disappointed, just a little. He was used to seeing her every morning in her apron, serving him breakfast with a huge smile. He had to say though, that her smile was getting smaller and smaller every day.

He shook his head and ate his breakfast. He had other important things to deal with. It's not like she left forever. He would see her for dinner.

...Well, he was wrong. There was still no A-Yeong in the house when he returned. He was so ready to give an earful to her for not greeting him at the door. But didn't hear any rushed footsteps or any noise at all. He went to her room, only to find it empty. He noticed that the room was exceptionally empty.

Seonghwa never came inside her room when she was awake. He only stepped inside a few times, late at night when she was sleeping. He doesn't know why but whenever he had a particularly bad day, he would come into her room and look at her sleeping form. This never failed to make him feel better and ready for more.

This was all done without him knowing that he did this.

The panic rushed into his veins. He ran from room to room like a crazy person trying to find his wife. But no luck. The anger seeped into him as time passed.

"So fucking careless! Doesn't she know that she has to be here when I come back?" He muttered to himself.

Tired, he finally slumped on his couch. He sat there, waiting for his wife to come back. He was sure he would be way harsher than at any other time. She couldn't even follow simple rules!

Looking around, his eyes fell on the folded paper on the coffee table. He sighed and picked it up. Unfolding it, he saw what she wrote —

Oppa… A-Yeong here. I can't take this anymore. I wanna feel loved. I don't want your money or you to pay my expenses. I don't even care if you keep me in a dungeon. All I wanted was your love. I'm a simple woman with simple needs… I don't know why it is so hard for you to love me back… anyway, I'm taking the first flight to London this morning. I have kept the breakfast in the microwave. Take care, please.

I'll file for divorce as soon as I can…

A-Yeong.

A tear slipped out of Seonghwa's eyes, followed by more. He wasn't expecting her to leave like this. He never felt what love was. But right now, his heart was clenching.

"What have I done? Why am I so sad!?" He couldn't decipher the hurt in his heart. They have been like this, cold, forever. He didn't care for her but why was he feeling so hurt? Why was his heart cracking?

…

"A-Yeong! Mr. Kim! Breakfast is ready!" Nari, A-Yeong's best friend from the University, called for her from the kitchen window.

"Hold on a second… I am almost done!" She and her father were pulling the weed in the tiny backyard.

"I'm gonna take a really quick shower… it's kinda hot today," her father wiped his forehead with the hand towel hanging from his neck.

It's been a month since A-Yeong left Seonghwa's house. It has been tough to not think about him. She was worried about his meals and health. She wished he was taking care of his health. It was nerve-wracking.

As much as she was trying to be chill and normal in front of her parents, she was feeling empty inside. She wanted to feel loved but was not feeling it. It was an empty void in her heart that was taking up more and more.

A-Yeong's fingers itched to pick up her phone and call Seonghwa every single minute. But she felt dejected when he didn't call her to ask if she was pulling his leg or just straight up getting angry with her. "He probably doesn't even care," she scoffed and piled the weeds in the corner.

After washing up, she joined her family and her friend at the table. The delicious chocolate chip pancakes with chocolate syrup were already served on her plate.

"So, A-Yeong, when are you returning?" Her father asked.

"Why? Don't you want me here?" She asked with a pout.

"No, no. You are my only child. I would love to keep you here forever, under our wings. But now you are married. You have another family to deal with. I just think that you should think about that too," he gently explained his concern.

"Mhm, your father is right, Yeong-ie. And not to forget Seonghwa's needs," her mother wiggled her eyebrows.

A-Yeong internally scoffed. He never even touched her somewhere other than the little peck on the cheek at their wedding.

"Oh, that brings another question…" Nari began, "when are we having Seonghwa junior or A-Yeong junior?"

A-Yeong choked on her food. Now she regrets not telling them why she came here in the first place. They were far from having children. Hell, she was planning a divorce.

Divorce. She still didn't do anything about it. As much as she wanted, she couldn't bring herself to file one. Maybe it was fear that Seonghwa would sign the papers and attend court dates without hesitation. In the end, he didn't care for her. So divorcing won't be a huge deal for him anyway.

"Ah, I understand your concerns. But it's been two years and we only spent time before the wedding. I just wanted to be here… with you all," A-Yeong said. "And for the juniors… Oppa is busy. Bigger projects are standing on his head. We will think about it later on," she swallowed the lump forming in her throat.

"Sweety, I understand. You can live here for as long as you want. Oky? And about the babies, I'm happy that you both are not rushing into it, or else the child would be neglected," Mr. Kim patted her back.

"Ah! You kids grow so fast!" Mrs. Kim wiped her happy tears. She was always too emotional.

"I should take these tips from you, Yeong-ah," Nari teased.

…

Seonghwa hasn't eaten anything in two days, only expensive whiskey was running in his system. His house stunk of alcohol. A-Yeong's absence left him broken. He formed the best friendship with his alcohol.

He was barely able to handle his business. Thanks to his other officers and managers who were filling up his absence from work. He barely did anything in this past month. He was drowning in his misery.

At that point, all he wanted was A-Yeong back. He didn't like food that wasn't made by her. He didn't like the fact that there was no one waiting for him at home, so he stopped going out to feel like that. Seonghwa never knew that he cared about his wife this much. All he thought was that this was a business deal. But oh he was so wrong. He now realized that he noticed her every day when they were under the same roof.

At first, he was angry at her for leaving him without telling him in the face. But then he was angry at himself for letting this happen. He could have prevented this by simply reciprocating her feelings. But no, he was too arrogant to even feel his own feelings. He has been cold forever and didn't know that he was damaging her this much.

Seonghwa grew up in an environment where everyone was a workaholic. Nobody cared for anyone. They were all about business. His parents never expressed their love for him. He was handed from one babysitter to another like a ball. Everyone was cold and tough. They only smiled for public cameras and never from the heart.

Now he understands what being loved is like. He realized that he loved the attention A-Yeong gave him. He loved the fact that they were living in the same house. He now realized that after his marriage, he started coming home every day and eating homemade food.

But it was too late…

But it's never too late to correct mistakes, his rational side screamed.

He needed to do something. He couldn't lose his wife. He was thankful that he didn't receive any divorce notice yet. However, now is the time he could make a difference. He needed to act sooner. But he didn't know where she went.

Seonghwa went into his room to get his phone. He picked it up and called his assistant who picked up his call on the second ring, "Hongjoong? I have an important job for you to do."

…

A-Yeong moved into a small apartment about thirty minutes away from her parents. She built up another lie and told them that she got some work here and will be moving into a separate place for convenience. That didn't stop her from visiting her parents every day. She usually had dinner at their place. This has been going on for a week and a half.

She had finally started to search for divorce lawyers. One thing was for sure this was going to be expensive. Sooner or later, she needed to ask for help from her parents. This also meant that it was time to disclose the real reason to come back to London to her parents. It scared her. All the couples in her family were happily married. The fact that she was gonna have a failed marriage was like a nightmare.

A-Yeong took a deep breath and turned off her phone and looked at the clock. It was already ten in the morning. She got up and went for a shower.

She wore a simple black spaghetti top with some supporting shorts. Grabbing her breakfast which consisted of cereals and a chocolate protein bar, she sat on the floor, in between the couch and the coffee table. She turned on the TV. Changing through the different channels, she stuck to Spongebob.

After that, she had nothing to do. The laziness took over her eyes and fell asleep on the couch.

Mr & Mrs. Kim was sitting in the backyard, enjoying their morning. It was a pretty day. The sky was clear, unlike other shady days.

"What do you think about visiting Korea?" Mr. Kim asked his wife.

"Hm, it sounds good. Why?" She sipped on her late morning tea.

"Well, I thought we might pay a visit there. Seonghwa has been so busy. I just wanted to go see him," he pouted. He genuinely loved the guy.

"Don't you think we would be a burden on him? He is busy and if we go, he then has to pay attention to the formalities for us… we should wait for now," she gently responded.

As Mrs. Kim finished her sentence, their doorbell rang. "Oh, did A-Yeong come this early?"

"I don't know," Mr. Kim followed as Mrs. Kim stepped inside to open the door.

As she opened the door, she gasped. "Seonghwa! It's so good to see you again! Oh my goodness. Come on in!" Mrs. Kim giggled excitedly and stepped aside.

Seonghwa wasn't expecting such treatment. He thought he might get punched in the face for treating their daughter so badly. He was, for the first time, scared.

'They seem to be oblivious to the divorce fact,' he thought to himself.

Seonghwa bowed to them and acted as if everything was okay. "It's nice to see you again as well. I hope you both are fine," he shook hands with Mr. Kim.

"Fine as always son!" Mr. Kim began, "but you look weak. Is everything alright?"

"Ahh, right? You look like you haven't been eating properly," Mrs. Kim spoke. "Sit down, I'll make you breakfast. It won't take much time."

Before Seonghwa could protest, she scurried into her kitchen. Seonghwa felt a lump forming in his throat. He never felt this welcomed in a family before. A-Yeong's family was so genuine and kind. So filled with love.

'A-Yeong gets her caring side from her parents,' he observed.

"Work has been taking my time… it still does but I was missing A-Yeong," he wasn't lying so far. "So I thought I should come here and meet her in person."

"Oh, I think she is not the only one missing, huh. A-Yeong lost so much weight in this last month as well. You both should take care of your health more… but it's really sweet that you came this far to meet her," Mr. Kim nodded, impressed.

"Where is A-Yeong?" He asked, looking around. He felt so nervous all of a sudden.

"Yeong-ie is at her place… you don't know?" Mrs. Kim came back with a tray full of food. "By the way, this is left over from yesterday. I'm sorry for not making something fresh… there was a lot left."

Seonghwa smiled at the lady. "It's alright. I will eat whatever you feed me…," he looked at the tray and cleared his throat, "and I do know that but I don't have her address. And I wanna surprise her…" well now he was lying. And she was definitely gonna get surprised.

"That's so nice of you! She is so lucky to have you, Seonghwa," Mrs. Kim smiled widely.

"Not her… it's me who is lucky to have such a wonderful, kind wife," he slightly bowed, "thank you for raising my wife so well. No matter what, it's never enough thanks."

Mr. & Mrs. Kim's hearts swelled with pride and love. Their eyes were glossy. "That's how we know that our daughter is in a good man's hands," Mr. Kim patted Seonghwa's back.

Oh, Seonghwa wanted to bow down and ask for apologies but right now, he could only think about his wife. He got even more worried, now that he knew she wasn't doing well and was losing weight. "Could I get the address, please?"

…

A-Yeong's sweet nap was disturbed by the obnoxious doorbell. Sighing, she got up and looked in the decorative mirror in her living room. She wiped the drool and combed through her hair with her hands.

The doorbell rang again making her flinch. "Ugh, I gotta change this hell of a bell," she mumbled. "Coming!"

As she opened the door, her face fell, and her heartbeat increased. Seonghwa was standing there, looking oh so miserable. His hair was longer, his cheeks were all gone, and the big dark eye bags were so prominent. The little shine he had in his eyes was gone. His appearance made her worried at the same time scared.

"A-Yeong…" he whispered and rushed to hug her. He missed her. Though he never hugged her, he regretted not doing this earlier because she felt warm, she felt safe. "Fuck, A-Yeong, why would you leave me like that," his voice was so hollow, almost sounding like he had no energy left.

"O-Oppa?" She took him inside and made him sit on the couch. "How d-do you know where I live?" She asked ignoring his previous sentence.

"I didn't know before. I went to your parents and they gave me the address," he saw how her face got filled with horror. "I didn't say anything… they were nice. They fed me breakfast as well."

Her face softened at his compliment to her parents. She awkwardly sat opposite him, mind filling with the coldness of their relationship. A lump formed in her throat.

"W-why are y-you here?" She cleared her throat.

"To take you back," he replied immediately as if he came prepared… which he kinda was.

"No… I won't go back," she looked dead into his eyes.

"Please don't say that. I can't without you… please come back. I promise I will do better," he pleaded.

"No! You are only asking for this because all you care about is your reputation and respect!" She spat the words. "I don't wanna go back and be your maid!" Tears ran down her face.

"Fuck the reputation and respect! I want you! This time, not for the public!" He raised his voice.

"How can I trust you? Huh?" She raised her voice as well.

"How do I trust your love for me, then? You left me like that! You didn't even fight for your love!" He was not aware of the things he was saying. Things were being exchanged in the heat of the moment.

A-Yeong stood up as well as Seonghwa. "I didn't fight for your love?" She whispered. "You fight for your love from the world… not with the person you love, Oppa," her breath came out in pants. "I always asked for love. That was the only thing I wanted from you but your head was deep down into your ego! Oppa I came here to my parents so that I could feel loved, but that was not enough… I only wanted your love to fill the void in my heart!... Please remind yourself how many times I begged for your attention and love… please do," she sat back on the chair with a thump, her head in her hands as she violently sobbed.

Seonghwa stood there, even more upset. He was an idiot to even doubt her love. He knew very well that she would go beyond the limits to keep him healthy and happy. And here he was, an ungrateful and arrogant mess who was still pointing his finger at his innocent wife. He knew that she deserved better. She deserves someone who could love her far more than she thought she deserves. But he couldn't let her go. He wanted to make himself better… for her.

He moved closer and kneeled in front of her sobbing form. Taking her hands in his, "I'm sorry, A-Yeong… I ruined good things for you… please forgive me. You can say anything, beat me even. But please… don't leave me like this. I can't live like this. I miss you. I miss seeing you around the house and your little check-ups on me throughout the day," he took a deep breath, "let me heal our love… Give me a last chance. I'll do better. Oky? One month… just one month and I'll prove it to you," his unshed tears finally found their way down his cheeks.

A-Yeong looked at him. Her mind was empty. All she could see was the sincerity in his eyes. She had nothing to lose. Thinking about it, she wanted to give him another chance. Why not? She was still very much in love. No one can just not love someone after so long. It hurts and if he was ready to heal it, then so be it.

"One month you say?" She whispered.

"Please," he sobbed.

Removing her hands from his, she held his face and angled towards her. His lips, which were soft and pillowy, were chapped. She moved their heads closer until their noses were touching. His warm breath fanned over her lips.

"Please come back home with me," and then her soft lips landed on his. She felt so soft and silky against his lips. The ache in their hearts dwindled. Seonghwa wanted to go back in time and smack the hell out of his old self for not understanding things sooner. He was so upset about how he missed these things for more than two years. He could have had the taste of his wife's sweet lips. But now was not the time to sulk. It was time to make things right.

Seonghwa stood up and picked A-Yeong. Her legs were around his hips. Her hands snaked around his neck and caressed his nape. Moving further into the apartment, he kicked open the door of her single bedroom. Nearing the bed, he threw her on it, and she bounced a little making both of them giggle.

Seonghwa was quick in removing his dress shirt and pants. He then helped A-Yeong out of her clothes and oh she looked like a goddess. He has never seen someone as beautiful as her in his life. "You know I'm holding myself back from hitting myself. How could I not see such a precious goddess before?" He said and settled in between her legs.

He grabbed her legs and pulled her closer and feverishly kissed her lips. Their tongues tangled together, and they fought for dominance. His hands traveled down her spine as he helped her lay down. He slowly pulled out of the kiss and moved along the jaw.

His head dipped in her neck as he tried to find the sweet spot, leaving red and purple bruises behind. She moaned when he sucked a particular spot on her neck. He paid more attention to it.

Sitting back up, he admired his artwork on her. His left hand found its way to her boobs and the other one made its way toward her needy pussy. "So beautiful," he latched onto the other breast and licked her perked-up nipple, and gave it a good suck. At the same time, sliding his fingers up and down on her wet pussy.

"O-Oppa!" She moaned and Seonghwa's cock twitched, precum dribbling out of his slit.

"That's right, baby. Say it again," he moaned and gave the other nipple his attention.

"Oppa, please give me more," listening to her, he brought his face near her glistening pussy.

"Look at you, all nice and wet… just for me?" As he blew his hot breath on her pussy making her flinch.

"J-just for y-you, Oppa…" she whined and looked down at him who was already looking at her.

Seonghwa smirked and let his long tongue out and teased her throbbing bud. He enjoyed how her face scrunched up and her mouth hung open, leaving a needy whine.

"Oppa, ple- o-ohhh," she moaned as he roughly sucked her bud. Her eyes rolled at the back of her head.

"So sweet for me," his deep voice made goosebumps on her skin.

His warm and wet tongue poked her leaking cunt. He gave a harsh suck and eased two fingers into her. The wetness and the warmth made his cock twitch. She felt so hot. He could feel her clench around his fingers. "Fuck, baby. You are so hot… look, your slutty pussy is taking my fingers so well."

"Oppa, s-so g-good," she grabbed his hair, pulled him closer to her pussy, and grinded against his face. He let her do whatever she was doing before pulling away and manhandling her onto her side.

He pumped his cock, covering it with his precum and her slick. "You will take Oppa's cock like a good girl, right?" He aligned his throbbing cock with her pussy.

"Yes, yes… like Oppa's good girl–" she whined as he pushed the head of his enormous cock inside her hot cunt.

"Baby, you are so tight– fUck," he moaned loudly. "So tight. You suffocate my cock so well."

He tried to fit the whole of him but he couldn't, too big for her. "Oh baby, is Oppa too big for you? Hm? I can't fit it all the way in."

"Yes-" she whined. "Wanna fit it all," her tears escaped her eyes.

"Don't worry, baby. We will work on that. Don't wanna hurt you now do we?" He waited for a minute and pulled out until his head was left inside her. And then he jabbed back inside her making her scream his name.

"There, there, love. A bit more," he picked her leg and rammed inside her at an animalistic speed. They both were moaning messes.

"Oppa!" His cock twitched again, "I'm cumming!" He brought his hand to her clit and rubbed it for her. Her high hit her like a train. Her body jolted and trembled under him.

Her fucked up state triggered his high as he came inside her with a loud moan of her name. He turned her on her, still inside her. He gently laid on her, without hurting her. His head was right in between her breast. He listened to her heartbeat, it calmed him down, her hand caressing his head was like a cherry on top.

After coming down from his high, he pulled out of her carefully. His cum dribbled out of her gaping hole. His spent cock twitched slightly. Chuckling, he looked at her face. She was looking at him through her hooded eyes. Her face glowing after sex.

"Hold on," he gently whispered and hurried inside the bathroom. Coming back after a few minutes, he picked her up in his arms and brought her inside the bathroom. The tub was filled with steaming water along with a lavender bath bomb, which he found in the drawer while trying to find a washcloth, in it. It smelled so good.

Seonghwa let her get into the tub. He went out, still butt naked, and came back with two champagne flutes and a champagne bottle. He poured some for both of them. He got inside the tub, behind her, and pulled her closer to his chest. Her head comfortably laid on his shoulder. His hands started massaging her shoulders.

"Thank you," she whispered, sipping on her champagne.

"No, no. Thank you… for giving me another chance. I feel bad for acting the way I did," he kissed her shoulder.

"I forgive you…" she smiled.

"But I'm still the cold CEO for the public," they giggled.

"Yeah? I'm not gonna lie if you love me like this, that Oppa will turn me on too," he tickled her at her comment.

"Yeah? Well, my queen will get whatever she wants," they fell into the comfortable silence.

Seonghwa and A-Yeong cherished this moment. This was their new start… where both of them were soft for each other.

"Why didn't you take care of yourself?" A-Yeong's voice came out sad.

"I deserved this," he kissed her temple.

"Don't say that…" she whined and looked into his eyes… they were now shining.

"How about you take care of me and I take care of you?" She smiled widely and nodded, scooting even closer. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah," his hands rubbed her waist.

"Why didn't I receive any notice… about, you know?" He cleared his throat at the bitter filling.

"I didn't dare to do so… although I did start finding one but it all seemed bullshit," she replied.

They stayed in the tub for a little longer. A-Yeong came out and started preparing for lunch. In the meantime, Seonghwa changed the bedsheet.

As they ate their lunch, they started catching up on each other's lives. For the first time, it wasn't awkward or stressful. They held hands on the table and enjoyed each other's company.

Being tired from the earlier activities and lunch, they went to bed for a nap. It was the first time that they both were in the same bed. Seonghwa cuddled her closer, head on hers. Right before they drifted off, he confessed—

"I love you too…"

.....

Sanaa's note:

I hope you enjoyed this. 😄

The behavior of all the characters is visualized.

Taglist:

@veneziamadness @cheline @jhmylove @sansmilkbread

*lemme know if you wanna be added to the permanent or specific taglist*

Have a nice day/night💓

#ateez #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez au #ateez seonghwa #ateez seonghwa smut #ateez seonghwa fluff #seonghwa fanfic #park seonghwa #seonghwa smut #seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #ceo!seonghwa #husband!seonghwa #heal our love

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atinyreads · 4 months

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sobbing wheeping squelching giggling ATEEZ FIC RECOS !

@atinyreads

note: these were supposed to be a part of my previous post but tumblr said i already reached the limit :( nonetheless, here are the rest of my favorites and my recent reads <3

note: don’t forget to support (reblog/comment) the blogs who write them ^^ i do not own any of the following recommendations.

cw: some fics contain themes that might trigger you read at your own risk

genre: contains angst, smut, fluff, yandere, and mafia themes.

Hongjoong

just a phone call away by @makeitmingi

drive to survive by @bvidzsoo

love, tailored by @arafilez

only look at me by @pyramid-of-starrs

our destiny by @mi-rae07

the captain’s favourite by @edenesth

Seonghwa

from the cradle to the grave by @prodsh00ky

fire and water by @wooyoungiewritings

yandere seonghwa by @mymoodwriting

dancing with the devil by @bro-atz

your desire by @bvidzsoo

the thing about pretty boys by @wonusite

blinding pavlov by @seohwang

we know by @baek-at-it-again95

like crazy by @gyupinkys

extraterrestrial rated by @latte-fairytaekwoon

idol seonghwa x actress reader trope by @skyechild (idrk why the username isn’t popping out 😭)

Yunho

four seasons of love by @starillusion13

let’s get physical, physical by @bro-atz

who? by @todomochi-uwu

the duke’s weakness by @edenesth

Yeosang

bf yeosang by @darkphoenix07

secret relationship au by @ateezmakemeweep

mafia au by @mingsolo

winter blossom by @atzfilm

angst/fluff reaction by @ateez-writings

moonlight by @miaatiny

San

sex after argument by @darkphoenix07

time’s the charm by @jaehunnyy

morning sex by @destiny-fics

let’s get physical, physical by @bro-atz

jealousy sex by @k-hotchoisan

limitless by @sorryimananti-romantic

the jealousy game by @emeraldelysian

underneath the moon by @hee0soo

blue bird by @seonghwaddict

Mingi

who? by @todomochi-uwu

burning desire by @mi-rae07

fight or flight by @mint-yooxgi

Wooyoung

heavy is the head that wears the crown by @bvidzsoo

siren!wooyoung by @ohmyamor

12:45 by @jinisnuggets

home for the holidays by @highvern

pitiful, you’re pitiful by @songmingisthighs

blue bird by @seonghwaddict

Jongho

torn patience by @thenewblackcanvas

needy jongho by @cuddlyjongho

regret by @mi-rae07

OT8

want you back by @whimsicalwritingsandmore

poly ceo ateez by @atinycafe

Other fic recs !

NEWS FLASH! Best release in kpop history:

#ateez ff #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez angst #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez yandere #ateez masterlist #ateez mafia #ateez werewolf #ateez fic #atinyreads #ateez atiny #ateez au #ateez smut #ateez reactions #ateez recs

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holybibly · 1 month

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Hello my favorite bunnies. I won't let you relax for a minute.

These are my unholy thoughts

The Park twins were definitely something very special.

When you first met Seonghwa, it was hard to believe that he could be the twin brother of someone like Hwaseong, and vice versa.

They were the hottest topic in the office, and as the children of the CEO of the company you were working at, they were frequently spotted around the office.

Seonghwa was the cutest person on the planet. God, you could have sworn there was an angelic halo around his pretty head, and those big innocent eyes… Damn it, all you wanted to do was ruin him. There was something so sweet about him that it made your teeth ache with the desire to sink into that delicious caramel skin of his.

At the same time, Hwaseong was his complete opposite - brash, belligerent and vulgar to the point of disgusting, you couldn't be around him for more than a minute without your panties getting uncomfortably wet. And unlike Seonghwa, you were desperate for Hwaseong to destroy you.

You never thought that you would be in the middle of it when the boys started their internship at the company. Mr. Pak was personal request that you take care of them and help them in any way possible.

And as it turned out, "all their affairs" also included the satisfaction of their insatiable libido.

It was a bit of a push-pull for you three. The desire to push Seonghwa into a dark closet and show him what heavenly blowjob meant became stronger and stronger. Especially when he looked at you with those sparkling eyes and batted his long eyelashes.

At the same time, you wanted to smother that arrogant bitch face of Hwaseong with your own pussy. The whole situation made you feel as if you were between heaven and hell at the same time.

Neither of you dared to make the first move, despite the intense tension and the almost painful sexual desire between you.

Everything changed at a company dinner. Seonghwa was lightweight and quickly got drunk, getting clingy and overly tactile with you, while Hwaseong seemed to get even cockier, starting to touch you unprofessionally and not innocently.

You had to drive them home before Hwasung performed a striptease on the table. God, he was literally five minutes away from taking his clothes off. And Seonghwa started to whimper about how much he wanted to go home to his soft bed. The boy was literally the sweetest creature that could have ever existed in the world.

But you were a damn fool to fall for their blandishments and take them home. And you were an even bigger fool to think that they believed that their typical behaviour characterised them in the bedroom.

Things did not turn out as you had hoped when Seonghwa literally fucked the life out of you in the middle of the hallway of their luxurious penthouse and Hwaseong obediently sucked your fingers while waiting for his turn. The huge innocent eyes were black as night and full of lust, while the bold lips that had curved into a devilish grin had become soft and gentel.

The night was going to be long, exhausting and hot, judging by the eagerness with which they tried to get enough of you. Biting, licking, kissing, scratching and fucking you as if their lives depended on it. For you, the morning came just as suddenly as the change in their behaviour last night, but what drove you even crazier was how gentle Seonghwa was with you again, and the way that annoying arrogance once again coloured Hwaseong's beautiful features.

Anyway, you were right about one thing - the Park twins really were something special.

#ateez smut #kpop smut #atz smut #ateez hard hours #ateez unholy hours #smut #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #park seonghwa smut #ateez scenarios #ateez au #ateez x reader

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eightmakesonebraincell · 11 months

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rules & main masterlist

[#welcome]

⏳ loren, 24, she/her

i post both sfw and nsfw fics - mdni with nsfw content please. i do not take requests, but soft/hard thoughts are always open blank blogs without a profile picture, banner or some form of blog description (and in some instances no posts or reblogs) will be blocked taglist [now open]

⏳ sideblogs @lorensonebraincell @jeffreysleftdimple

⏳ sidekick @sorryimananti-romantic

[#loren writes - scenarios]

📜 ateez as mafia members who fall for you (ot8 x reader)

hyung & maknae line . part two bonus (mingi x reader, wooyoung x reader) mafia boyfriends (christmas special)

📜 ateez as royals who fall for you (ot8 x reader)

hyung line . maknae line

📜 ateez as pirates who fall for you (ot8 x reader)

hyung line . maknae line [latest release]

[#loren writes - smaus]

📜 rating bff!ateez as - twitter thread series (platonic!ot8 x reader)

alarm clocks . beds . fridges . presentations . amusement park rides . computer apps . kinks (kinktober special) . pumpkin carvings (halloween special) . sea animals (seonghwa bonus)

📜 boyfriend!ateez - fake texts (ot8 x reader)

when you call them 'bro' when you call them by their government name when they discover you write smut when you ask them to draw you a flower when you tell them you're constipated

[#loren writes - headcanons]

📜 dogboy!yuyu (yunho x reader)

📜 loren collabs with yumi ♡

ateez as dads (ot8 x reader) ateez as brothers (ot8 x reader) ateez as boyfriends (explicit ver.) (ot8 x reader)

[#loren answers]

📦 ask prompts that are a shame to lose to the tumblr void

mafia!ateez . ceo's son!mingi . prince!jongho . baguette!yunho . spiderman!yunho . michelin chef!yeosang . fallen angels!ateez . soft mafia!ateez . friends2lovers!san . hamster!hongjoong . texting bf!atz a pussy lineup

[#loren's fic recs]

🗂️ an ongoing record of fics that tickle my one braincell (rec reblogs here)

©eightmakesonebraincell. please do not repost or translate any of my works

last updated 23 april 2024

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bvidzsoo · 5 months

Text

Your desire

⬦Sugar daddy!Seonghwa⬦

TW: suggestive

Word count: 3,9k

A/N: I hate the grip Ateez has on me, I have never ever written so many drabbles or whatever, I'm a long story kinda gal but here they are...torturing me. Anyways, Seonghwa went ahead and posted on IG today and when I saw him my mind instantly went omg that's some sugar daddy vibes, idk why, don't ask, thank you. Feedback is very much so appreciated! Enjoy!

I really would have never imagined a year ago that I would be attending such an event like this one. It was even shocking to myself. But it looked like I was the only one who felt out of place as the people surrounding me seemed to know each other as they indulged in small talk and friendly chatter as if they were old friends catching up. The silky dress felt too tight against my skin and I couldn’t help but pull on it, hoping by some miracle that it would loosen up and wouldn’t wrap around my ribs as it was trying to suffocate me. The little golden purse I clutched in my hands tightly was expensive, too expensive, an item I could’ve never afforded by myself. I wasn’t into fancy things, so even if I could’ve afforded it at some point in life, I still wouldn’t have purchased it. The faces of people seemed to merge into one as I took a sip of my champagne, smiling politely when the older man next to me pointed his glass in my direction before taking a sip himself. I wished I were invisible, but the red dress and the red matching lips only placed me in the spotlight. And if it weren’t for my outfit, being by the side of Park Seonghwa, a successful and young CEO, definitely put me in the spotlight. I could feel the curious gazes of men and women alike, even the envy as some whispered as Seonghwa and I glided through the crowd, wanting to reach the bar. He said he needed something strong, perhaps some whiskey, as the people around us were giving him a headache. Currently, we were conversing with an elderly pair who were big names in the makeup industry, Choi San having joined us not too long ago. He was a rising CEO, almost always in the spotlight, as his magazine was becoming bigger and bigger, visited by more and more celebrities lately. He was Seonghwa’s biggest competitor, constantly challenging him publicly and often mentioning him when it had nothing to do with Seonghwa. Choi San liked to provoke people and taunt, living off of the hate and attention directed his way. I didn’t need to have a PhD in psychology to spot all these things, it was clear as day as he flashed his white teeth in the direction of the elderly pair, bragging about last month’s issue and how much money it made. The elderly pair didn’t seem too impressed, but they congratulated him before diverting their attention back onto Seonghwa, who was patiently waiting for San to stop his theatrics. If I wouldn’t have known Seonghwa so well, I would’ve never known he was irritated, his jaw barely clenched, grip just a little too tight on his glass of champagne. I quietly cleared my throat, getting his attention. His round eyes watched me, face devoid of any emotion, but the glimmer in his eyes assured me that he was feeling fine. I offered him a small smile and his cheeks twitched before he looked away, focusing back on the elderly pair. They were laughing about something I didn’t bother paying attention to, eyes falling on an already staring Choi San as I took another sip of my champagne. It almost made me choke; I couldn’t deny that he was a good-looking man, but I only had eyes for Seonghwa. At least for now.

“I’ve heard about the deal you made with an American firm,” San spoke up with a smirk, one eyebrow raised in Seonghwa’s direction, “Congratulations, breaking through on the American market isn’t something easy.”

Seonghwa chuckled, but it lacked humor, “San, when I made my breakthrough on the American market you were still running around, trying to find a headquarter for your company.”

The elderly pair laughed at the very harmless jab, but San’s smirk slightly faded, annoyed by Seonghwa’s comeback. He was probably right, but I wouldn’t know, I have never been interested in their world of business.

“You look gorgeous, Y/N.” The sudden shift of conversation made me tense as the eyes of four people fell on me, San’s a little hungrier than the rest. I forced a smile on my face, grip tightening on the glass of champagne. I wished the dress didn’t show as much cleavage as it did, and that my hair wasn’t in a low bun, unable to cover my shoulders, “Isn’t that necklace—”

“The latest Saint Laurent Teardrop Chain Links Necklace?” Seonghwa raised an eyebrow before taking a sip of his whiskey, “It is, San. And it’s custom made.”

San’s eyes fell back one me and I cleared my throat, feeling awkward, as the elderly lady eyed me a little bit suspiciously, I felt obliged to speak up, “It’s not something I usually wear, but Seonghwa insisted.”

“I think I have seen that dress on a magazine cover, not too long ago.” The elderly lady noted, eyes narrowed at me. I felt like they could tell how poor I actually was compared to them. It felt like a paper with the words ‘intruder’ was glued to my back and everyone was staring, pointing their fingers at me, or whispering vile things. I gulped, but before I could speak up, I felt an arm sneak around my shoulders, squeezing my arm lightly.

“You have seen it right, then, Mrs. Eom, it was on my magazine.” Seonghwa said with a smirk, sending me a wink which made me slightly blush. The day he saw it on the mannequin he sent me a picture and texted me that he’d get it for me. I refused, because it was truly too much and it also cost a lot, and also, I didn’t really have a fitting event where I would wear it to. So, I guess Seonghwa had to do something about that and that’s how I was dragged along to this fundraiser for disabled people. This wasn’t something which had been in the contract I have signed two months ago, but I didn’t dare bring it up when Seonghwa showed up to my apartment in the morning, holding two designer boxes and a designer paper bag. He said he didn’t have time to have breakfast with me, but he expected to see me in the evening, wearing everything he handed me. Before I could accept or refuse him, he was running off, phone at his ear as he spoke to someone important. I could only sigh and hope for a dinner in a very fancy restaurant, instead I found myself at a place infested with very important and insanely rich people. I was sure I even saw the prime minister like half an hour ago.

“Oh, delightful!” Mrs. Eom exclaimed, but no emotion came through her voice, eyes watching me almost accusingly. Why did an old hag have beef with me when she didn’t even know me? Before I could say something inappropriate, Seonghwa gave my shoulder another squeeze, swiftly taking his arm off my body. He seemed to know me well too, a glance at my face and he was able to tell what I was feeling and thinking. We hadn’t spent too much time together in these past two months, but it felt like we understood each other on a deeper level, beyond words even. I looked around as the orchestra started playing, the front of the room slightly clearing as people made place for those dancing. My eyes fell back onto Seonghwa, and as his eyes were trained somewhere else, I dared staring at him openly. He was an absolutely gorgeous man, breathtaking even. His black hair was slicked back with three strands framing the right side of his face, longer strands than the others poking around on his nape. His shoulders were relaxed yet his posture was straight and proper. His silky black shirt, with three buttons undone at the top, was tucked inside his black dress pants, an Yves Saint Laurent belt keeping his outfit together. The black velvet coat reached just bellow his thighs and his Yves Saint Laurent shoulder bag had been disregarded a while ago at the table we sat at. Despite my obvious staring, Seonghwa remained oblivious to it, however, San didn’t. His eyes were narrowed and lips pulled into a grin as we made eye contact. My cheeks burned and I quickly averted my eyes. Catching feelings wasn’t written into the contract, or what would happen if Seonghwa and I did fall for each other, a thing which was far from happening. I wasn’t in love with him, but I had eyes, and I found him extremely attractive. Whether he was dressed up or wore something casual, Seonghwa always looked spectacular. As a waiter passed with a tray in their hands, San quickly placed his empty glass on it and cleared his throat, interlacing his hands in front of himself.

“Miss Y/N, may I have the honor to dance with you first tonight?” San’s eyebrows were raised as he looked at me with a smirk and I stared at him without a reaction. Was I allowed to dance with him? Seonghwa was right next to me, he certainly wouldn’t like that. And I didn’t want to dance with him either, he sometimes made me feel very uncomfortable with his unnecessary comments and over the top compliments. But before anyone could interject, San took two steps towards me and then grabbed my left hand carefully, a smile erupting on his face, “Come.”

And before I could refuse him, he was pulling me after himself, making me hand my purse over to Seonghwa in a hurry as San lead the way to the dance floor. I felt awkward as curious eyes watched us, some people greeting San as we passed by. His grip turned firm and I could feel my palm get sweaty as I braced myself for what was to come. It couldn’t be that bad, besides, I would only dance with him for a short amount of time before I would excuse myself to the bathroom in hopes of getting away from him. San stopped in the center, facing me with a charming smile, sharp eyes watching me closely. I cleared my throat and placed my hand on his shoulder, allowing his hand on my lower back to pull me closer towards himself. I slightly tensed, but willed myself to relax in his arms. I didn’t quite enjoy dancing with Seonghwa’s competitor and biggest rival, especially not when I knew how much distaste Seonghwa had towards San.

“Fancy seeing you here tonight, Y/N,” San spoke up as he swayed us to the slow beat of the orchestra, “I didn’t think you’d attend such an event.”

San didn’t know what type of relationship was between Seonghwa and I, but he has seen us together quite often, always bugging Seonghwa whether I was his girlfriend or not. I most certainly wasn’t.

“It came as a surprise to me as well.” I admitted quietly, focusing on not stepping on San’s feet or on my own dress. The high heels were also slightly uncomfortable, I couldn’t help but be hyperaware of every move I made.

“So, Seonghwa didn’t plan on bringing you along, huh?” A satisfied smirk made it onto San’s face and I sighed, looking over his shoulder.

“He most certainly did since I’m here, don’t you think?” I couldn’t help but slightly snap, sending him the smallest glare as we made eye contact.

“Of course,” San chuckled, pulling his eyebrows up, “he wouldn’t want to leave behind his eye candy.”

His comment didn’t sit well with me, but I just bit the inside of my cheek and let it go, not wanting to give San the satisfaction of seeing me annoyed. He waited a few more seconds, probably thinking I was formulating my answer, but when the silence continued to stretch on, San chuckled to himself, looking amused as I dared take a glance at him.

“Everything you’re wearing tonight is quite expensive, isn’t it?” He continued, eyes running over my frame. It certainly felt uncomfortable as I could easily spot the lust in them as his eyes stayed a little too long on my exposed collarbones.

“Yes, they were expensive.” I hummed, looking over his shoulder when San glanced at my face.

“Bought them yourself?” His tone feigned innocence, but the smirk on his lips made it obvious that he was prodding and jabbing, “Didn’t think a university student could afford all of these things, to be honest.”

I gulped as my throat felt suddenly dry, heartrate picking up. Of course I couldn’t afford what I was wearing tonight, two months ago I could barely pay rent and the tuition fees for my course at the university. Seonghwa seemed like an angel in disguise at the time, however, lately I’ve been feeling guilty for accepting all of his money instead of trying to make some myself. In my defense, my itinerary was so packed I could barely find a place which would hire me even half norm, it was frustrating.

“Some of these were gifts.” I opted to answer, clearing my throat when San’s fingers slightly dug into my lower back, pulling me even closer to himself. Our bodies were almost touching, his musky scent invaded my nostrils. I certainly didn’t like it.

“You know,” He spoke up again, eyebrows furrowed, “Seonghwa is quite known for changing partners after like…half a year, I guess his standards are too high or something. Unless…”

My heartbeat paused for a second as I looked San in the eyes, “Unless, you’re not his girlfriend but his whore—”

“I think you’ve spent enough time with Y/N for a lifetime, Choi San.” The sudden harsh voice made me flinch as I carefully peeled myself away from San, heart beating like crazy as I turned my head. I was met with a furious looking Seonghwa, kind eyes pulled into slits as he glared San down, jaw clenched. I noticed the people around us glancing our way, and when my eyes fell on San his chest was puffed out and eyes challenging as he stared down the taller man.

“Seonghwa,” I whispered and curled my fingers around his bicep, getting his attention, “He’s not worth causing a scene, let it go.”

His eyes bore into mine as I heard San scoff at my words, but before he could open his annoying mouth and say something else, Seonghwa gripped the hand I had around his bicep and peeled it off, hand slipping to my wrist as he turned around and took off, steps hurried. I struggled to keep up with him in my high heels and even ran into someone, having to hastily apologize as Seonghwa wasn’t stopping anytime soon. I noticed the direction we were storming in, the restrooms. I gulped and realized Seonghwa was angry and needed time away from everyone, probably to give me a lecture and break off the contract we had. I could only hope he wouldn’t ask for the money back; I couldn’t remember if that was a clause or not in the contract. We rounded the corner and Seonghwa kicked the door of the restroom open with his foot, shoulders raising and falling rapidly as we entered the men’s restroom. A guy, who looked like security, was washing his hands, pausing when he noticed us.

“Sir—”

“Get out.” Seonghwa’s voice was low as he glared at the poor security guard, who seemed to be speechless for a few seconds.

“This is the men’s restroom—”

“And I said, get out.” Seonghwa emphasized his words again, staring daggers at the unbudging security guard, seemingly a glaring match breaking out between them. My nerves were rising, and I tapped my heel against the floor, biting my lower lip when nobody moved.

“Seonghwa.” I called out for him, but he didn’t look away from the security guard. However, the man broke his staring contest and looked at me, taken aback.

“Park Seonghwa?” He asked amazed and as I nodded, he quickly bowed his head and scurried out, making me let out a long sigh. My shoulders slouched forward as I pulled my hand out of Seonghwa’s, which made him whirl around and look at me with a sharp stare. I gulped and suddenly felt small underneath his eyes as his fury was directed at me only.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to dance with San, but I don’t think I had much of a chance,” I found myself explaining quickly, “And I didn’t want to cause a scene which would damage your reputation.”

Seonghwa took in a deep breath before releasing it, jaw clenching, “You’re not my whore, Y/N, you’re my sugar baby.”

I bit my lower lip, the term still making me feel slightly uncomfortable. I don’t think I could ever get used to it. I looked at the floor as Seonghwa sighed loudly again, realizing that he was angry at San and not me, having overheard his words.

“Yeah, I know.” I muttered as I saw Seonghwa’s polished shoes come into view as I was still looking down.

“You didn’t want to come tonight and I forced you into coming, I’m sorry.” His voice was soft and he looked guilty as I looked up at him, eyebrows furrowing.

“You didn’t force me, what are you talking about?” I asked confused.

“I saw how uncomfortable you were feeling all night.” He explained, playing with the rings on his fingers, “I also should’ve chosen a dress less revealing knowing your preferences, I’m sorry for that too—”

“Seonghwa, this dress is gorgeous!” I said with a chuckle as I pointed at it, hands shimmying down my hips, “Albeit a bit too revealing, and too expensive, but it’s beautiful and I appreciate your gesture, I hope you know that. Regardless of how I’ve been feeling tonight.”

Seonghwa gulped and took a step closer, eyes running over my frame before he looked back up into my eyes, “You are gorgeous, not the dress, Y/N. That’s just a piece of fabric.”

My cheeks flushed at his words and I averted my eyes shyly, feeling Seonghwa’s soft fingers grip my chin as he made me look at him again. He stepped even closer and his warmth wrapped around me, fruity scent enveloping me and making me shiver. Seonghwa certainly noticed as he studied my face for a reaction, but I was trying hard to contain the fluster I was feeling and my frantic heartbeat.

“Our contract is coming to an end next month,” Seonghwa whispered, as if he was afraid anyone would hear us, there was nobody but us inside the spacious and marble covered restroom, “Let’s extend it for another six months.”

“Six months?” I asked surprised, remembering well that Seonghwa’s contracts only lasted for three months. He hummed and nodded as he closed the gap between our bodies, tilting my head slightly up. It was rare that he stood so close and held me so boldly. We were rarely physical with each other, the occasional hand holding and kisses on the cheeks happened when I was feeling down or Seonghwa was feeling tired, and we made out a couple of times here and there when we were drunk. The contract made it clear that everything had to be consensual and if one person refused, it shouldn’t be brought up until they were ready to talk about it or made it obvious that they wanted it to happen. Seonghwa was a respectful and well-mannered man, there were few others like him, if none at all. My lips slightly parted as Seonghwa’s eyes fell on my lips and I closed my eyes when he started leaning in slowly, lips pressing against mine carefully, experimentally. It was so light that if I were to pull away, it felt like it never happened, but instead, I pressed myself firmly against him, Seonghwa’s hand coming to hold the side of my face. Our lips moved slowly against each other, testing, searching, savoring the other’s lips. My hands rested against his chest as his free hand went to hold my waist, slowly slipping to the place where San held onto earlier, my lower back. This time, goosebumps erupted on my skin and I slightly shuddered against Seonghwa as his long fingers dug into my skin, his lips picking up pace. I matched his feverish kisses, desperately wanting to tangle my fingers into the hair against his nape, but not wanting to mess up his hairstyle, so instead, I gripped the collar of his velvet coat, my other hand going around his shoulder. Seonghwa pulled me into himself totally, chests pressing together painfully as he sucked on my lower lip, carefully pressing his tongue against my mouth. I understood what he wanted and parted my lips for him, granting him access as he tilted my head up even more, hands clutching onto me firmly, his tongue carefully exploring my warm mouth. He tasted like the whiskey he had been drinking, and cherry. He loved cherry candies; he had probably eaten one not long before. My nose pushed against his cheek as our tongues tangled together, lapping at each other, a fire ignited inside me as my hand slipped up to his nape. Before I could second guess myself, I allowed my fingers to tangle into the short strands and I tugged on them, Seonghwa’s hand abruptly slipping down to my ass as he gave it a firm squeeze, making me gasp into his mouth. He took that momentum to suck on my tongue and suddenly my knees felt weak from the lack of air, but not just. I could devour him right here, but that wasn’t very lady like, nor too smart. Anyone could enter the restroom anytime. And despite the urgency in Seonghwa’s kiss, he sucked on my lower lip as he pulled back, pressing his forehead against mine. He was panting and I had to wipe the corner of my mouth as saliva threatened to drip down.

“Let’s do six months.” I rasped out, in the process of catching my breath. As I opened my eyes, I watched as Seonghwa’s teeth was attached to his plump lower lip, a deep hum leaving his throat as he agreed with my final answer.

“Good, I’ve still got a lot to offer to you.” He said as he opened his eyes and a smile instantly appeared on his lips. And then, his finger was rubbing underneath my lower lip and the corner of my mouth, chuckling as my own eyes fell onto Seonghwa’s unnaturally red lips. It made me blush as I allowed him to fix me up, hand giving my ass another squeeze, making me gasp as I jumped. The amused smile disappeared from his lips as a pleased smirk took its place.

“Let’s dance?” He asked and I nodded wordlessly, mesmerized by his voice and eyes as Seonghwa took a step back, hands falling from my body as I detached myself from him too, gulping nervously. He extended a hand and I placed my palm in his, fingers intertwining as he lead us towards the door.

I wouldn’t mind having Seonghwa as my sugar daddy for another six months, not if he would kiss me again and again like he kissed me tonight.

Masterlist (divider)

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pirateprincessblog · 6 months

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Daddy Chronicles

𝘾𝘼𝙐𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉! 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘾𝙊𝙉𝙏𝙀𝙉𝙏 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝘼𝙍𝙀 𝘼𝘽𝙊𝙐𝙏 𝙏𝙊 𝘼𝙋𝙋𝙍𝙊𝘼𝘾𝙃 𝙄𝙎𝙉'𝙏 𝙎𝙐𝙄𝙏𝘼𝘽𝙇𝙀 𝙁𝙊𝙍 𝙋𝙀𝙊𝙋𝙇𝙀 𝘽𝙀𝙇𝙊𝙒 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘼𝙂𝙀 𝙊𝙁 𝟭𝟴｡

𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐲? ↳ Go Back ↳ Nah, I'm good

The boys are all aged up, I do not mention the exact age anywhere, so you are free to imagine whatever you want.

𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝟏𝟎𝟎% 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭, 𝐈 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐥𝐟!𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳!

read for me

park seonghwa ➳ bookworm!reader, ceo!seonghwa, bestfriend'sdad!seonghwa

synopsis: best friend's father has a rather big book collection, and you are a big bookworm who has started losing touch with reality. he shows you just how real it can get away from the covers and pages.

one

two

three

in vino veritas

kim hongjoong ➳ artist!hongjoong, dilf!hongjoong

synopsis: hongjoong loves art, wine, and pretty girls. how convenient that on the opening night of his art gallery, as he sips his red wine, his eyes land on you.

one

player 9

jeong yunho ➳ footballplayer!yunho, coach!yunho, aunt!reader

synopsis: you always thought that your nephew's football coach was handsome, and when he invites all the parents and families to come watch him play a big match, you struggle to keep your cool while watching his clothes stick to his body and his face and muscles glistening with sweat.

one

three is a crowd

kang yeosang ➳ swimminginstructor!yeosang

synopsis: a tragic event in your childhood created an aquaphobia for you. at pool parties, beaches, and camping, you are always the one to stay out of the water. until your father finds you a swimming instructor, who solves one problem, but creates another one.

put on a show

song mingi ➳ ceo!mingi, fashiondesigner!mingi, model!reader

synopsis: your ceo is to die for. drop dead gorgeous, aged like fine wine, a figure you’d kill to have. his only problem? he might be the meanest person you’ve ever met in your life. then why are you enjoying his degrading words as he makes you take every inch he has to give you?

silver band

choi san ➳ collegeprofessor!san, student!reader

synopsis: choi san is a married man, and the hottest professor you’ve ever seen. you feel unnatural amounts of jealousy and hatred each time he opens his laptop to start the lesson, showing everyone through the projector the desktop picture of his wife while he opens the files he needs to teach. you want a taste of him so bad, but he shows zero interest towards you. or anyone else. so how will you pull this off?

white dress

choi jongho ➳ dad’sbestfriend!jongho, bride!reader

synopsis: you don’t love this man at all. he is a cheater, he hits you, he flirts with other women in front of you. what has gotten into your father’s mind and is forcing you to marry that bastard? maybe his best friend has a little more compassion and will notice your silent cries for help.

20% off next buy

jung wooyoung ➳ cashier!wooyoung, pervyneighbour!wooyoung, innocentexploring!reader

synopsis: never in your life did you see a dildo this huge. it’s so… big, so purple, and it’s staring right back at you. the cashier seems to notice your horrified face with each isle you walk down, and he can’t help but offer you help. how can he help, when even you don’t know what you’re looking for?

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chokchokk · 8 months

Text

𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔳𝔢 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢 | park seonghwa x fem!reader x choi san

part one of gangster!mafia!series "𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞-𝐛𝐲 𝐦𝐞"

“Brother, can’t you see I’m doing this for you? Enjoy yourself.”

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 : Picking your own poison, if poison was given to you in form of bankrolls by venomous men with high demands.

In which Park Seonghwa had a plan and Choi San has ideas.

“Sounds like you’re enjoying her more than anything."

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 : noir, smut, angst | korean mafia/geondal!au | ceo/jaebeol!au

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 18.2k

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 : entitled rich people, workplace harassment, alcoholism, softdom ceo!seonghwa (headman park), half-drunk satoori-using dom mafiaboss!san (mr. choi), both are called by their names at some point, sub-leaning bratty switch servant!femreader, use of (pet-)names (missy, baby, princess), groping, thigh-riding, light choking, light hair-pulling, non-penetrative sex, voyeur!seonghwa, sex in the elevator, counts as mirror sex right, biting kink, manhandling!san, edging, breeding, cum-eating (m), cunnilingus; reader hates the rich except for when they are sexy, implied but not severe age gap, writer does not have daddy kink but mafiaboss!san does, gunshots and death, use of korean proverbs

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 : this with the next part will be the origin story for reader, specifically the series synopsis’ first half :) originally, this has been a request, so please read this, if you desire to have a bit more insight to what the series actually is + translations of certain terms (mostly character dynamics) in this chapter !!

tl;dr: since it's all based around korean mafia/gangster/etc, there will be korean culture scattered between the lines. it is all translated, hopefully in an understandable way!!! (please hmu if there are difficulties) i let out honorifics/romanisation, except for "chaebol" since it's an actual word :) that being said, reader's ethnicity is not specified and won't be relevant to the series in any way !!

smut comes after the second border, and uh,,, i had to shorten that shit (pls dont ask me where) but uh. you’re getting 8k words of smut so buckle up LMAO !!! i hope you enjoy as much as i did writing it !!! thank you for likes, reblogs and feedback xoxo (also this is NOT beta-read so pls dont hesitate to tell me about... like.... errors, tags and shit)

[ now playing : money ▸ pink floyd | listen to the playlist ]

It's getting repetitive. They are drinking their ninth bottle of expensive whiskey, smoking their third or fourth disgustingly pricey cigar— what the fuck, is this seriously what the upper men of your nation are doing at some stupid chairman’s dinner party?

“Missy!”

“Me, sir?”

No wonder the economy's fucking shit.

“Yeah, you, missy, give that gent over there one of our divine Denmarks!”

“Yes, sir.”

“Give him a kiss too, while you’re at it! What do you think? He’s still got it, no?”

Said ‘gent’, some old, scummy clown— winks at you, his gray eyelashes fluttering towards your direction.

“Yes, sir."

God, how bad you wish you had snuck your phone in to take a picture of these red, drunken, senseless faces, but you're a dutiful servant, abiding by the rules at all times, however difficult it may be. You’re holding in your puke professionally, not even doing something as to grit your teeth, just softly letting your jaw play along to your friendly smile.

“Does your willy even still work that way, old friend?", a cranky, yet humorous voice pitches in.

Agreeing to your supervisor’s offer to earn “big money” may have been a bad idea, but a good choice. Jongho said he’d seen you at your work, took special note of you— even though you weren’t sure where exactly he had observed you, since it’s only been a month of actually working as a servant in the lower tiers of the building— and wanted to give you a chance to swim with the big sharks. “I think you’re best suited for the job,” is what he said to make you giggle and think about your initial rejection of his proposition, “you have a talent for serving.”

Something you didn’t know you had, something you didn’t know someone would see in you ever in your life, “talent.” Sure, maybe you let yourself be persuaded a bit too fast, but it felt very touching that somebody saw you and saw potential, for whatever occasion it may be for. You don’t necessarily want to screw the rules of the hierarchical pyramid or what it was that kept you from being in the proximity of the chairman, but you really need the extra cash right now.

"What does a girl from the mountains look for in being a servant in the city?", had been the question you were asked by Lady Kim who gave you the leftovers of her restaurant at the end of the day, when you had just started with the training– poor, barely standing on your own feet.

You remember how you explained to her that the buddhist monks who raised and send you here surrounded themselves with wells to remind everyone that water always returned, and you assumed it would work the same with wealth. You also remember how hard she tried to stay kind to you, showing you her sincerest sympathy by telling you that "the chaebol are no joke!" (at least not a joke, an innocent girl like you could laugh about, she later explained) and giving you an extra portion of her home-made dumplings to suit you up.

Her sharp, yet compassionate voice rings in your ears, as you reapply your red lipstick on the way to your target guest. Oh, Lady Kim, what a graceful woman– she put her all into her work for her restaurant to succeed, but had always made a place to share what she had for those who needed it. Such a lovable woman, she must have been well-liked by all around her.

You get it now, the way you had been so naive back then. Floating on the philosophical happy-go-lucky psyche of the city’s promise of prosperity, trying to live the Korean dream strangely enough as someone who was so sarcastically out of touch with it. If you had been in her position, you wouldn’t have been able to be as nice, no, would have warned yourself with a finger pointed upwards as if you were teaching a little kid about strangers, or how your monks said, ‘tigers in the woods’.

“After that cigar, his dick will turn to dust!”

Maybe things would have looked different, if you hadn’t taken that fund from the school’s superintendent, who slid you that card on your table with a smirk on his face. Oh dear, do you remember how excited you had been? You ran through the streets in your worn-out shoes with that plastic sheet in your hand, on your way to tell that the money on it was such a ridiculously high number that you could split— but Lady Kim had got to know it first, the ridiculousness of the rich, with the demolition of her restaurant-building.

“He’s got no cum in his nutsacks ‘no more anyway!”

No warning, no compensation, just everything crushed to pieces to make place for the big corporations; the fancy neon-signs she'd invested in, the ambition of her enthusiastic dreams, your only source of tender charity, shattered to a wreck. You have never seen her since, and can only laugh about how the fancy food of the chaebol—and you definitely know who they are now, those tasteless men gawking at you in the moment—doesn’t even look half as good as her low-cost black bean noodles you could more than afford now.

The present day-you is less dreamy, but just as lost, forced to work off a debt you hadn’t been informed about when you lived off the favorable “fund”-money. No, Lady Kim, this is all a joke, you would tell her today. A really fucking bad one.

So, making room for another ha-ha in your life, you pulled your eyes up innocently, returning Jongho’s specious smiles. “Is it illegal to collect pocket-money from the rich?” It’s not like you had any doubts at that point, but 'they'll buy you out of prison if you’re good enough' was all you needed anyway to put your uniform on tightly at home.

"Can't even shoot his cum in missy to save his blood!"

Your more experienced co-workers are watching you work with a condescending frown, feeling both jealous you're getting all the men's attention, but also maliciously delighted you're being challenged as the new-coming servant who's obviously of erotic interest to these richlings. They want you to get a "taste of life" for you may be the most goody-goody fawning bitch they have ever seen; just a young birdbrain who has nothing to bring to the table except her body. Young thing won’t hold up, doesn't know who she's working with— though they are quite right about that part, you must admit, you frankly didn’t look up whose money you’re taking right now— she doesn’t know who the fuck she is.

"What? Did his son leave the company, too?"

It’s flattering to know that the other pretty servants look at you and only see some candy-coated muppet, but fairly, your ever-frozen smile on your face doesn’t give them much to work with. You’re simply an annoyance to their routine, and if you could, you would like to comfort them by saying none of the money you’re getting will stay in your hands– they’d be so happy to hear that you’re really worth nothing– but you must stay focused.

“Idiot, he’s only got a daughter!”

So yes, that being said, you’re glad nobody ever asks you about you. Everyone just assumes, judges from what they see, and if what they see is an opportunistic bimbo-girl chasing money, then so be it, right?

"You know, the one he married off to the governor?”

Right. Because you too have not a single second to think nor talk about your past. The present is scarce and the future is fragile, you know it the best. And you owe it to your old men to make the best out of their efforts, don't you? The air in this room may not be the one you inhaled in the mountains, but you still have to use it, breathe, be alive, despite how moldy and spoiled it simmers in your throat.

"Real mad! Anything to avoid that fee, huh, missy? Got no semen and no glory! You really want to give him that cigar?”

So, that taste of life? Fucking bitter, just like how that name 'missy' seeps and sweats on your tongue. You can’t loathe your co-workers for this reason, they're basically in the same wooden, shaky boat as you, but these asswipes here are floating on a fucking yacht. Of course they don't follow some type of code of human decency for you, they don't give two shits about the lowlifes, the poor. They watch them like a spectacle, and because they don't regard you as a human-being but rather a toy, they play with you on strings that are, on the other hand, binding together a big, fat bankroll.

Ka-Ching.

Eyes on the price, Y/N, eyes on the price. You may not own a lot, that's been more than established, but if there is something you have, it's dutifulness, commitment, and proficiency. It will remain difficult to keep inner peace and honor with a job of which "duty" it is to be a deferential, subservient doll, but at least you're alive and well, soon to leave this floor with more money to your name that these fuckers don't know anyway, right? Never let that smile drop, smart girl. You have a talent, just like your supervisor said. Just keep on serving.

“No children-makin' is better for the cheatin'— ha!”, the barren, that fruitless man who’s been made fun of whoops in to stand up for himself, and awaits his tobacco that's being driven to him by your cart.

You open up the wooden chest in which the cheroots, so unnecessarily gold-plated, sit and ridicule you with their rare existence. There are just thousands of dollars sitting in your hand right now, and as you fetch the thick roll with wary fingers, you think, fucking hell, this could feed so many people, and they're just smoking it away like it's nothing, assholes.

The other servants frown at you spitefully during the time you bow down. You're sensually placing the brown cylindrical object into his mouth, a match lighting held to his face to light it up. In addition to the experience, you hold one long stare with his washy eyes, because you assume it will ignite him.

And, oh, how excited he gets.

"Thank you, sir," you chuckle and flutter with your eyelashes, pursing up your lips like you’re an innocent little girl getting a piece of candy behind her parents’ back.

“Just mad! Missy's young enough to be your grandchild, fella!”

You’re aware of exactly what your dear co-workers are thinking, but being ordered to light their cigs and then ogled at is not "baby-treatment” or whatever they’re muttering under their breath, it's your subtle strategy to have that bankroll be slid between your thighs.

"Hey now, I still can get it on! Don't you think so too, missy?"

Dumb Y/N, only has money on her mind. Allows herself to be called "missy", like a dumb fucking slut.

Hm, kind of has a ring to it, don't you think?

"Yes, sir."

Let them all think you're a dummy. Let them believe, believe each other's words in whatever they fucking want. You're almost too certain it's the secret reason Jongho offered you a place here anyway; "suited for the job", because he deems you dense enough to not understand any of the nonsense these twelve men are babbling, "big money", because he knows you will do anything for it.

You’ll still take the talent, but if he really thinks the rest, then oh, sucks to be him.

Yes, you haven’t looked up the names of who the men here are for the same reasons they're not using yours, but the second you’re out of this whiny, weak testosterone-drowned room, you're going to write the most thorough blackmail, because you can not listen to their cheating, money-laundering, corrupted bullshit anymore. Getting involved with the handshakers is the last thing you should do if you want to live a silent, carefree life, and you know this too well, but they're not going to believe it was you anyway. They wouldn’t dream of their missy to do such a competent, smart thing. You even know what you're going to write under the letter so they have something to think about in their cells: 'birds listen to the words of day, mice to the words at night'— walls have ears, too.

Ah, the soft, sometimes very cryptic voice of your favorite old monk. Always there to teach you new things, remind you of how to live your life cheerfully. You still believe he would have rather kept you in the mountains and not drop you on a wild voyage into the unknown urban life, but your old man had his reincarnation coming. You should visit his grave again, it's been a while, hasn't it? Wouldn't he be so proud to see you? To see how much his little Y/N has grown and learnt, using his proverbs to restore justice? Well, for what you still can collect of your late mentor, he would probably make big eyes and use his whole body to keep your monetary gift away from him. "Teacher," you would ask, "don't you at least want to save?", and his answer would remain the same;

"Peace comes free."

You feel warm at the distant memory of the bald-headed man warming himself in his orange gown, teaching you about love, harmony and kindness, but that sweet veil of untainted innocence has long dropped from your eyes.

In front of you, you see tycoons continuing having a blast being their shitty selves, and as golden teeth blend your sight, they are entertaining each other by staring at your legs that are covered by your sheer black stockings, whispering their insight of how you'd look like under it, but the mini-skirt only leaves so much for imagination.

"Sweet missy!"

How could you not want to spit into their face? They have bought the war. They have bought the chaos. And why? Just because they can. It doesn't cost you anything to restore some peace, maybe that’s the thing your old man got right.

"Yes, sir?”

“Do you have any Cubans left, sweet missy?”

“A Cuban, coming right up, sir.”

“Hopefully someone’s gonna come after the party tonight!”

Are you humiliated? As someone who lived among the wisest, clearest heads, and was considered just as smart by them to be wished a ‘more fortunate life’ — No.

You couldn’t care less about their perversions. Especially now, when they seemingly don’t care enough to know your name you've introduced yourself with. You are here for one reason, and it's not to prove your worth to the world, it's to secure your place in it, get that parasitic debt off your shoulders.

And if anything, as long you are staying truthful to yourself, there’s nothing that could take away your spirit. That’s what you want to believe, at least. When you’re out of debt and continue with this job, you could spend every day downtown like the other servants, but for you, it's all going to the savings for the family you're going to feed with not one worry in life on the clear land in the mountains, not under a sky that's polluted by light even when the sun has set.

The clock has announced night long time ago. Outside the windows, there shines and roams a loud, restless city under a starless, foggy black blanket, inhabited by people like you who live day by day to make their living, like small flies forgathered in a hive of exhausting labor, buzzing their life away.

It’s what you think every time you peek down the glass room: Seoul has never looked so small. Across and around the ever-flowing Han-River, the metropole is the home of millions who are looking up with their heads far back their necks to the point right here, where you stand, at the center or peak of all the wealth gathered together, inside the highest building standing tall amidst of the tumult, on the 114th floor, towering over the world in a luxurious dining room decorated by exotic animals, marbled statues and most importantly the filthy glimmer of something they call ‘class’.

“Missy,” the chairman calls out for you, raising his hand, right after he’s made another infidelity joke and showed his luxurious wedding ring to the audience.

“Yes, sir?”, you call out, wearing your pristine servant-smile with your hands folded nicely in front of your stomach, voice not tainted by your disgust as to even one note, despite the other servants looking at you with hateful expressions. They wish you the worst; the worst treatment, the worst performance, anything to get you out of this place.

Maybe they're driven by the same instincts and avarice that makes you hate the rich, with them just thinking you're taking away their money, but it's free territory here with these predators; you just make for great prey.

It’s a challenge to all of the people involved and the contestants can only win. Will it be another pick-up line? You're going to pick on that with ease. Another joke about your age? That one is never going to get old. There, bring it on, you think, and feel proud of your confident spirit, ready to run with whatever they throw and stash it into your wallet.

“You see those youngsters back there? Get 'em some more ice."

“Yes, sir.”

“Chaps don't know how to drink the good stuff yet, what a waste! Next time, buy 'em the cheap soju from the mart! The ones for 5,000 Won, missy, you know those?”

“Yes, sir.” Your whole face flashes a smile, bowing to accept the task of refilling some ice, dragging your cart across the room, as male laughter rings in your ears. It's as if they don't realize they also drink cheap liquor, but you suppose that's forgettable when they are flushing the fanciest of meats down with it.

"Be careful, missy!"

Are you being too mild by saying you want to ram the green glass-bottles into their heads?

"They bite!”

Maybe choke them with their own money bills?

Yes, “Yes, sir.”

It's a fun exercise to fantasize about how to hurt them, so you thought you would be busy enough to ignore the chairman's warning, but as you are on your long way to the end of the even longer glass table to push your cart towards the men he is referring to, there's a growing feeling inside your guts that oh, the chairman may be ...

Huh, right for the first time. The quizzical lump expands warmly as much as it is cold, with goosebumps running down your spine, your hands feeling hotter than ever over the metal cart. Your whole body is trying to signal you that something is off on the other side of the table, but you don’t know whether to ignore it or run.

The annoying, empty-minded, impertinent elders, who have been belly-laughing at the chairman's joke a second ago stop with their chatting and only exhale huffs, and prolong them nervously, that’s off. The servants gulping, loosening their crossed arms– that’s off, too.

“So, uhh… Where was the, uh– food from?”

“Oh, lad, good topic, yes– the delicious food…”

It seems that everyone in the room is trying to fill in the silence with the fakest of laughter, so the chairman can move on from the topic, but you're well over your way there, uninformed to what you're going to be hit with once you halt.

Tycoons like them usually don't need back-checking. You know how to deal with ill-willed imbeciles that only use their estate as a weapon. Their bodies and brains have passed prime an eternity ago. Left behind are only their numbed minds that seek shelter in lust, ecstasy and aphrodisia because nothing else excites them anymore. They’re what you probably would have been if you hadn’t spent your teens brewing tea and listening to the leaves rustle, not experiencing all euphoria and more at a too early age– they’re washed out, just swimming in money they haven't worked a day for, are lazy, weary sloths.

However, opposed to the cloudiness in their class that's only getting more foggier through the many years of monopoly, these two men that are waiting in front of you, and you understand why your lungs are pinging now, they are potent.

Money is power, but twist it around and there is them, with that; a certain force that the rich ooze out by just acting and looking a certain way, and oh, Y/N, how they are, how they are looking at you right now, best believe you have to hold onto your strength like it's a small purse.

'Youngsters', he said— 'they bite', he said.

They have been rarely reacting to the chairman’s words, notwithstanding being the ones to be the most respectful in this meeting for their young age, just looking at each other with unamused eyes. Even the director who is older than the chairman lets out his best holler every time, but these two have not laughed once at his jokes, not the slightest chuckle has left their mouths to flatter or satisfy the chairman.

Interesting.

Both black-haired, the one you get to first has his mane gelled back, a cigarette hanging out his scarred mouth, as you approach his seat with your cart walking carefully practiced steps. His white shirt is opened up to where chains, most importantly a silver cross, hang from his collarbones to his chest that’s covered with scars and scratches you can’t quite identify how they got there. This man looks gigantic, muscular, dangerous. Shoulders terrifyingly broad popping out his black vest, he sits on his seat with widened legs, thighs flattened in his also black pants, fastened by a leather belt, and with his white sleeves pulled back to his elbows, his slightly tanned forearms only appear more huge after the rather average-looking wristwatch catches your eye, just when you stop with your cart in front of him.

“That old geezer just can’t keep his mouth shut, can he?”, he chuckles, the Gyeongsang-provincial dialect rolling so naturally off his tongue. Everyone else in the room has been faking their speech to cosplay a charm they didn’t possess, but even the slight lisp and lull from the drunkenness are not hiding how deeply masculine and sincere this man’s voice sounds. It’s a mixture of the sarcasm you've gotten used to by now, but also a brashness that the older men lack, and you’re a bit embarrassed to say it’s working you up a bit. "Empty carts rattle loudest, I say."

A wintry breeze goes through your breast and you feel your eyebrows flinch. You haven't heard that grandmotherly expression in so long, that it does feel somehow refreshing to reconcile with it, but maybe the whisk you sense shouldn’t feel as comforting given the way the man is looking up to you brazenly with a bit of atrocity in his appearance. He is far away from the serene sketch you drew to save the vision as you left the village, he is what you felt when you took your first train, asphyxiated by the big masses of people who you would never see again— an unhomely, yet intimate feeling of... adventure.

He glances through you smoking his cigarette with no hands attached, and it moves at the corner of his lip as he talks. Wait, cigarette? Missy, did you forget to bring him a cigar?

"Let's see when he runs out of words."

“It’s alright, sir,” you answer, suppressing a slight chuckle because yes, you too have been wishing the chairman would finally shut the fuck up, but haven't expected anyone to say it out loud that boldly. You watch the male in front of you take out the slim roll from his mouth with his thick fingers that are covered with silver rings that all look different and not matching each other, blowing out the smoke whilst maintaining eye contact with you. “If you require, I can bring you a cigar, sir," you say, but he waves his hand to brush off your offer.

“Ah, they give me bad breath.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Please," the man progresses instantaneously, scratching over the vertical scar at his lip-corner with his thumb, his ciggy continues to burn, "Do be so kind and give brother his ice," then smiles, "he needs to preserve his cold head.”

“You are one to talk about keeping mouths shut,” the ‘brother’ answers, voice velvety and adequate despite dissing the man that’s sunken unmannerly into his seat, while he, on the other hand, is sitting up straight, his black suit buttoned up, tie set cleanly under his ironed pearl-white collars, elegantly decorated by a golden pin. A Greek "π" is chiseled into it, and you recognize it so well for you’ve seen it written all over the tall buildings you drove by on your way here. His hair is combed evenly to the sides and the more you look at him, he’s just— wow, flawless, prestigious, expensive. Everything about him is crystal clear; his rich voice, his unblemished skin, his eyes, oh god, you just noticed those eyes, how does such a shameful man have such pure eyes?

Orbs— and they're not innocent as much as you can't say they're not guilty— are looking at you with a defiance that is suffocating, as if you ought to do everything perfectly, not miss a single twitch of his eyebrows to understand whether he's enjoying or disapproving of the situation.

Well, is he enjoying you or disapproving of the way you're listening to his partner's order to refill his ice?

Huh. No fucking idea. He probably doesn't, but you must do it still— must still serve.

It feels irrationally sheep-headed, but hey, being a sheep is your job, is it not? Being in this herd is keeping you alive, and even in this situation, where you are following the orders of the blackest of sheep, no, wolves that can't be covered by any fluffy wool— you must mow your best.

"Ohh, brother, it's been a while since I heard you talk! Feels lonely droppin' all the good sayings by myself."

You’re serving Choi San and CEO of PARA-conglomerate, headman Park Seonghwa.

Sat right across the chairman, the percentage this couple holds of his company-share is more than most of the attending seniors combined, which makes them stand at the top of the guest-list. You couldn’t have missed their names, even if you’ve made the attempt to, and the other information you’re getting is just your co-workers whispering hurried words to each other, and it seems to you that you may be more in need of them than ever.

You already eavesdropped on them a little, and to be honest, you didn’t need any real confirmation that everyone in this room was unlawful and corrupt, but it is good to know you really don’t have to feel guilty stashing those bankrolls into your purse.

The man that is licking the tail of his scar at his lip, rolling his neck, clicking with his mouth and tapping his fingers onto the table, he is rumored to be the boss of the Choi-Clan, the infamous ‘Mad Dog of Namhae’, whose face had been unknown. The chairman has made a drunken joke about allegedly trying to sell him off to the government— “everybody act like you don’t know, okay?”— and nobody had taken him seriously, but once the supposed mafiaboss had entered the room, an hour later than everyone else, and sat down comfortably like nothing was strange about his heavy breath and slightly purple knuckles, nobody dared to say something else.

If you’d heard beforehand that you would be meeting a CEO and a mafiaboss today, you don’t know if you would have acted any differently. Thinking, here comes the chairman, his jesters, the mafia-guy, the chaebol; ah, all the motherfuckers aligned, let’s get to work, shall we?

But this does challenge you a bit, indeed. If they just weren’t so young and intimidatingly good-looking, fuck, you could have treated them in the same cookie-cutter way you’d been at perfectly.

Maybe a bit of change-up won’t hurt, you were starting to get a bit too irritated anyway.

"Control yourself."

“You wanna see him dead too, brother,” the smoking male sneers— you’ll call him ‘Mr. Choi’ for now— pointing at his companion to accuse him of being a yawner, his cigarette stuck between his fingers.

Headman Park smirks with a short twitch of his lips that makes you think you just imagined it, but none of his extremities has moved since you came here: Every single action he takes seems so... calculated, thought through, measured, planned out. He is the only one to have brought a briefcase to the dinner, and looks a little bit out of place with his sober expressions which seem to you as if he was observing the whole room in its possible entirety, not leaving out a corner in his sight uncovered.

"Want," he parrots, face dropped to a neutral visage, highlighting the only word that seems to be bothering the CEO regarding his vis-à-vis' statement, eyes darting down to Mr. Choi having his fingertips pointed towards him.

"Don't you become pushy with the words now, brother," the mafiaboss teases him, and tugs his sleeves up to his elbows again, eyeing you up and down while you're passing him with your cart. You discern his interest in the pockets of your skirt, or what is there underneath, instantly, but before you can think that the man may be just the same as the others, he cracks his knuckles. “Old geezer might die on his own at this point, look at how he's smoking his raisin-lungs away."

"Poetic."

So much for hearing government and company secrets, here are these two joking about the chairman’s death. You need the chairman a little bit longer if you want to earn money, but the idea of him dying soon isn’t too bothersome.

"You gotta get used to my Korean way of speaking, brother! Then we can communicate correctly!”

With your ears sharpened, but your face presenting unconcerned, you devote yourself to headman Park to refill his bucket, ice cubes jangling down the iron jar, whilst Mr. Choi stretches his arms behind his head, raising an eyebrow towards his elder who isn't hearing him out.

“Thank you,” headman Park says, very briefly and precisely. The tong you put in the bucket for him to use almost tips, and you don’t know whether he does it on purpose for he’s been frozen still all during the dinner, but with his reflexes, he prevents it from falling before you can, but if that wasn't surprising enough, he grazes your skin while returning.

Soft, uncalloused; not a single ounce of labor roughed up these hands, it seems. They tickled you featherly, and right now, you are looking for some type of confirmation in those black spheres of his to know that you're allowed to exhale and react to his touch, because you gasped slightly and have held your breath ever since.

Nothing. You are the first one to look— no, shy away from his stare, getting your hands in front of your abdomen again, your fingers searching for each other, fiddling around by themselves without your knowledge.

Mr. Choi lets his wrist-watched hand fall between his lap, neck tilted slightly to the back, licking over his canine tooth with a grin, and it appears to you that he's either noticed his associate's small gesture or how headman Park is still staring at you. “You wanna do something, don’t you, brother?”

“I don’t know what you’re getting at.”

Mr. Choi shakes his head to irritate headman Park and make him explain himself.

“This is not business.”

Headman Park glances down his whiskey, droplets of water have formed around the brim of the cold glass. It is untouched.

"I see you aren’t enjoying the whiskey, would you like something else to drink, sir?", you ask, trying to finish your job and get away from here before you get ideas that don’t include money between your thighs.

"The Fillico, please," the male answers, not having glanced away from your eyes once to inspect your cart, where the black, long bottle, donning a crown and wings adorned with Swarovski-crystals, awaits you to be grabbed.

"A glass of cold Fillico Black King!", you exclaim, your surprise of the particularity that anyone would drink water at the chairman's dinner can’t be hidden, and then hum, "Coming right up, sir."

“You’re really something, brother,” Mr. Choi wheezes, taking the last pull of his cigarette, watching you fill up a new glass for his unrelated brother with the finest mineral that can be bought to-date, pricing around 6 Billion Won, or 4500 US Dollars per bottle. “Wouldn’t you say it’s difficult to not be smokin’ or drinkin’ in this business, Y/N?”

Sure, whatever ‘business’ a man like him is talking about. “Yes, sir." Wait, hold on, did Mr. Choi just say your name?

“You don’t look too impressed,” the male grins, seeing how you’ve narrowed your eyes in confusion.

"Pardon me, I was just– how do you know my name, sir?”

Mr. Choi shrugs as if to say ‘I dunno’ and presses his cigarette out on the table. It sizzles out, like your head is also slowly deteriorating. He throws the bud into the CEO's ice-bucket— headman Park is not even minorly irritated by it— and then, with his ringed fingers, goes through his hair, setting it loose behind his head. He’s picking on you, and you surely feel picked out, that's all you can think. It's so unusual to be hearing your name, not because it hasn't been said during the dinner, but because—

"Y/N Y/L/N, a pretty name for a pretty servant like you, huh?"

Your heart somehow flutters. A stalwart man like him taking your name into his mouth is nothing you hear on the daily. Deep, manly. It's not flattering, no, it sounds wrong, feels so dangerous for a guy like him to be taking something so personal and turning it into his possession, like you're slowly going to lose yourself in the words he speaks in a lax manner. Your name is precious to you, and it just drops off his tongue like it's candy. Where on earth does a man like him get your full name from?

"Sir," you insist, dipping your fingertip under your fingernail, fidgeting.

“Oh, don’t tell me ya prefer that stupid name ‘missy’,” Mr. Choi chuckles and fetches headman Park’s full glass of whiskey, his dialect draping out his mouth.

“Or do you secretly enjoy it," he grins, and with his eyebrows raised, Mr. Choi drinks up his acquaintance's booze in one big gulp, letting the glass fall down on the table with a thump, breathing out, "missy?”

People drink whiskey neatly, you know that. The guests have been doing it all evening, but that's for two ounces. Headman Park had a glass full of the oak-colored sherry liquid with an uncommonly high alcohol percentage placed in front of him. A taunt from the chairman maybe, to subtly scorn them about their apparent boyhoodish inexperience, but Mr. Choi makes it look so adept: The strong alcohol flows down his throat smooth and speedy, even though he did misplace the rim by an inch.

There's whiskey dripping down his chin as he glances over to his side, smirking at his neighbor who's blinking frozen, as well as the other guests, who are seemingly just as irritated that the mafiaboss got you as flustered as you look like.

You’re left with your mouth slightly open, shotting down a glass of whiskey shouldn't have looked as barbarous as Mr. Choi made it appear. Like a striking attack, baring his claws, he growls out the herby aftertaste. "'Scuse me, 'got really thirsty there."

The mafiaboss goes over his lips with his tongue, watching your hand play with the seam of your skirt, where he knows a handkerchief is buried in your pocket.

“Aw, shit, I got wet,” he wails over-dramatically, looking down on himself and then again locking his eyes into yours.

“Wanna clean me up, baby?”

“Pardon?”

Much to your continued bafflement, Mr. Choi smiles, and as he sees you taking a second to confirm what he said, he continues talking to you like you’re a hooker.

“Don't like that one, Y/N?” Again, with the name! Where does he get the name?!

“Sir, how—“

“You have introduced yourself to us,” headman Park finally reveals in the high Seoul tongue, perchance by pity, and you inhale, a bit embarrassed that you didn’t come to think of it earlier. What is happening to you? Is it because you’re finally away from those sleazes, that you’re being so light-headed? Lack of training? Sexual attraction? God, that’s a rookie’s mistake, Y/N, think about them as targets, not objectives. The objective is to not end up in a bed with them, remember? That’s like, rule number one. Even though nobody told you about the Mafia while you were at training, that’s a valid argument.

Don't let your guard down, you’re in a room with the men of men, no maybe the men. The most influential men you could be meeting in Seoul right now, aside from how little is known about them.

Whether he's a real chaebol or not, PARA-CEO Park Seonghwa is definitely the nephew of good ol’ chairman over there, just leeching off his money even if today is the first time the man is visiting his distant uncle who is definitely a bit sour about the fact he took so long to connect with him. Money has its sources and sometimes, most of the time, it’s nepotism. There you go, the explanation of his wealth and why the male is so well-mannered sitting on his seat. He’s woven into the conglomerate-family, been made CEO to keep him that way and all in all, you could care less about him, if he just wasn’t the only person that was kind of nice to you. Just thinking about his eyes makes you a bit dizzy, but you can get that fixed by turning your eyes to the mafiaboss.

Mafia and chaebol don't usually associate, for reasons that are rather obvious. Mafia’s rule the underworld with the overworld’s laws, and the chaebol rule over what laws the overworld decides on, digging their hands into the government like it’s soot, planting and pulling crops wherever they can profit from it. Money.

It’s sickening every time you think about it. How many people in this room could pay for your whole life? No, how many can’t pay for your whole life and beyond? You can count them with one hand and they’re all wearing the same clothes as you.

Money knows where it belongs; that’s a phrase you made up the day you were told about the crippling debt by the letter and the bank declining your card. It sounds similar to your monks' sayings of water's ever-flowing life, but if water returns, money drifts. It wanders across the citizens, but follows a direction it's always bound to end up. Just like today, with you getting bankrolls to graze the inner space of your legs, only to know it’s going to end up in the same fingers that gave it to you.

So, where do headman Park and Mr. Choi get a say in this? Do they get a say in this?

“I did introduce myself, how could I forget? I’m sorry, sir,” you admit and let out a laugh that is half intended to sound as nervous as it did, and half regrettably filled with authentic uneasiness.

Old chairman, what does he know? Have those teeth really ever sunk into flesh? You can’t play with your fate here, but by hook or crook they intrigue you so much. You haven’t expected guests that aren't ass-kissers of the chairman, and apparently your talent only goes so far. You have no idea what to do with them to satisfy them except letting out your real thoughts and you can’t do that, definitely not in front of the man.

But you feel so connected to them. The caution everyone has, it confuses you just as much you're amazed by it, and you want that, you want that kind of safety. Every guest here has money, but not every guest has their authority.

“It’s alright, everybody makes mistakes, baby,” Mr. Choi smirks and musters you again, rubbing the liquid away from the corner of his lip with his thumb and kissing the remaining alcohol away, savoring every droplet of whiskey, but also savoring you by keeping his thumb leaned into his opened mouth, eyes looking sultrily at you, you might as well just—

“Mistakes, San. Beware of them,” headman Park falls in and his companion finally sways his eyes away from you, hand backing down. “Talkative drunkard.“

“Brother,” Mr. Choi sighs and grabs the glass from his neighbor that's filled with ice cubes to murmur, “I’m not that drunk," swinging it around with concise flicks of his wrist to enunciate his words.

With the couple bantering, you think you can calm down. Maybe you were overreacting. Bootlicking some birdbrains is a way easier life than to follow these two.

"Hey, baby?”, but there's another call of the bird of prey.

“Yes, sir?”, you answer, fingers letting go of your skirt that has thrashed your skin by how you abused it. You don’t even know when you started to react to the name 'baby', but truth be told it’s better than ‘missy’ by miles. Being over here is better than being over there by miles, that is unchangeable.

“Could you get me clean? This is kinda sticky."

With two fingers, he grabs the collar of his shirt and flails it softly, ice clinking in his glass, as he shows you his indeed quite syrupy breast.

"Yes, sir."

You nod towards the crevice that is the space where his muscles meet, and before your eyes can get lost in the plump thews, you collect yourself so you can do what you were asked for; getting your hands on his body.

“Please.”

“Ahh, I liked you more when you were quiet, brother! I don’t wanna call you a party-pooper, but c'mon! It’s your plan, and I’m just— doin’ my part.”

Mr. Choi twists his upper body a bit so he’s still able to hold the empty glass behind your back, though it feels more caging in than it should, when you lean forwards to softly tap his skin with your handkerchief. His arm hovers next to your hip and his upper body is extended wide around you.

“What do you say, baby?”, the male asks, and you harrumph to take your mind elsewhere from how rock-hard the mafiaboss feels under your hand, how his cologne smells so rich and inviting, and how— “Wanna be bitten?”

“Pardon?”, you ask, not understanding the context of Mr. Choi’s question, but without fail grasping the intentions of it.

The male grins, and you’re unsure as to how he got his hand on the bottle of whiskey from your tray as quickly as he did, but it’s there, in the hand that’s across your hip, and from then on, everything you do seems risky. His bicep is curled around your thigh so he can fill himself another glass, and if you take a step back, your ass will be pushed against his arm, but if you step forward, you’ll land on top of him; a straining dilemma that only inflames your guts the more you think about it.

“San,” headman Park grumbles quietly, seeing you struggle to stand on your feet.

“Agh, come on, brother, 's all going well! Live a little for me, will ya? Watch me and follow,” Mr. Choi nags with a juvenile pout and takes a disgruntled sip from his drink, making your imaginations reality by pushing you with his forearm with no forewarning. You trip closer to him and his arms raise, as you have to find safety on his shoulders to not fall into his crotch.

“Oops, ‘scuse me, baby,” he grins, feline eyes glancing up to you, your bust in his view. The other men are grumbling, fussy, yammering— if they knew, they would have done that with you a long time ago!— and in your head, you don't know whether you should be doing this at the chairman's dinner and not somewhere in a stripclub or just, god, anywhere else.

“It’s okay, sir,” is what you answer, and the short silence would be the perfect opportunity to scuffle back to your original stance, but you saw his ever-growing, throbbing bulge in his black suit-pants and it is staring you down.

Everything about him is so big…

“Really, baby?”, Mr. Choi asks, eyebrows pushed together, lips formed into a pout, feigning an expression of worry.

“Yes, sir,” you say, the big question of 'what is the goal here?' unnerving you, but with the quick, harsh movement of his leg against the back of your knee, you're—

“Sir!”

Sat on his thigh, your butt is bouncing on the hard flesh, fingers dug into his shoulders deeper due to the shock, ribcage moving up and down as you’re breathing fast and anxiously. At this point, you’ve gathered the attention of many who are seemingly more excited about the situation than you are, silencing all around, while the chairman continues to crack drunk jokes on the other side.

Mr. Choi chuckles at your nervousness and puts his glass down. “Aww, look at you, baby,” he coos, his rough, calloused fingers trailing between the inner space of your thighs that’s pushed into his leg. “Need a little break?”

As you sit there— securing yourself on the table, feeling his hand sit between your legs, you become lighter with each passing second, tingles being sent down your abdomen. Could Mr. Choi please stop smirking like that? It’s going to make you lose your mind, lose every thought of what you were trying to achieve at this table tonight.

“The chairman doesn’t allow breaks, sir,” you murmur, trying to cling onto the last sense of service you have, “I have to stay here.”

Your voice is barely above a whisper for the CEO in front of you to become curious, but loud enough for the mafiaboss to scoff and massage his hand deeper into your flesh.

“Sir, I really—“, you try to protest, but Mr. Choi uses his other finger to signal you to come closer to his face. You do as you’re told, his warm breath hitting your ear after you lean backwards.

“Baby,” he cackles, and his lips touch your earlobe, the smell of the smoke fading out his mouth.

“I practically own that wimp,” and Mr. Choi lets out a chuckle before his voice lowers an octave, “Let me own you, too.”

His tongue grazes over your sensitive skin as if he was a snake trying to convince you of eating the strange fruit, and you shudder forwards in surprise, his growl still vibrating in your ears.

You should get yourself together— yeah, that sounds like a good idea, if it just wasn't for the fact that this is exactly how you've been presenting yourself the whole evening. You're cornered, and not only by him, but your actions and it's, oh, old man, it's something. It's something that broadens the playground that was set out in front of you, something that gives you more to play, no, more to be played with.

The other guests are gawking already, forgetting about their prejudices when it comes to the 'youngsters', just happy to be seeing their missy in action.

The mafiaboss sighs, breaking his whispering and speaking louder than before. “But if you cherish so much about that old geezer, he’ll be taken care of, no? Maybe even better than before, or am I wrong here, brother?”

He clicks with his mouth— is it a habit?— and looks at headman Park, who rolls his eyes, as if they’re sharing some secret you’re not a part of. But before you can fall into further confusion, your legs tighten around Mr. Choi’s wristwatch, as his thumb strokes the surface under your skirt one time, right across your cunt which has been heating up since the first time you saw the reflection of yourself in his silver cross. A pant leaves your mouth and you have to grind your ass over so you can somehow clench your legs together.

“You like that?”, Mr. Choi sneers, chuckling into your ear, as he continues to move his thick finger against your clit. "Of course you do. Let me hear more of those cute sounds, baby.”

You grab his bicep, heat crawling up your abdomen against his forearm, your crotch feeling more and more buzzed as the male works his fingertip into you. Nobody says anything, just murmuring insignificant sentences to keep up the chatty mood.

Headman Park in the meanwhile, crosses his arms, catching the attention of the mafiaboss.

“Brother, can’t you see I’m doing this for you? Enjoy yourself.”

Mr. Choi flashes an eye-smile and keeps groping your cunt, you melting more and more into his lap and under the heated gazes of the crowd. Your servant-colleagues don’t know what to do, or no, maybe they knew exactly that this would happen and think you deserve all of this shame, just in general not helping you escape the touch of the mafiaboss.

“Sounds like you’re enjoying her more than anything,” headman Park says, looking indifferent, but his words don’t cross out the possibility that inside his pants, his cock isn’t growing too, how his arms are crossed, clenched around each other.

“Come on, baby,” Mr. Choi growls into your ear, “give that fucking bore a show, won’t you?”

You’re split open. He’s strong, oh gosh, so strong, taking not more than one push to grab you by your thigh and spread your legs, make you slip on his crotch, as he closes his knees together to support you from down under.

“San,” headman Park warns, but his mouth stays slightly open, tongue pressed against the surface of his upper teeth, suppressing a grin.

You flatten your back against Mr. Choi’s torso as an attempt to hide your face behind his neck, and breathe heavily against his freckled skin, the cold exterior of his pearly accessory grazes your chin.

“What?”, the male asks, taking his glass, his arm slithering under your armpit and his chin resting on your shoulder as he sips from it, not to forget the hand that is still pushed into the now moist fabric between your legs, moving in circular motion.

Headman Park doesn’t answer and folds his hands together, placing his elbows on the table, fingers touching his lower lip.

“Geez, brother, you should feel this cunt right now,” the mafiaboss wheezes, almost hiccuping from his excitement, “so fucking hot, you won’t believe.”

“Make her louder.”

Even Mr. Choi was surprised to hear that come out of the reserved CEO's mouth, and as he chuckles and takes the last sip from his whiskey, he puts down his glass once in for all to accept headman Park’s order.

With a slight lean forward, his free hand wraps around your neck and you gasp for air. Mr. Choi’s legs are spread so when you have to tuck in your pelvis, you can feel his bulge under your cunt. At this point, you don’t care for the piercing gazes anymore, and the chairman might as well give you a nice tip for the sight of you grinding your wet pussy into his biggest investor’s clothed cock. You’re such a master profiteer, Y/N, Jongho was right.

“Fuck, missy,” Mr. Choi grunts and he’s so frustrated he can’t take off more of your clothes, but it doesn’t prevent him from following the order when headman Park mutters, “grab her breasts.”

It is one shameless show.

You becoming needy and whiny on Choi San’s lap, the mafiaboss grinning, as CEO Park Seonghwa’s eyes are unmoving from your sullen, aroused expressions— it has persuaded the audience to want their own slice of fun, but even with hands wrapped around their no-use cocks, everybody in the room has their eyes sealed on the young servant whose only job was to refill some ice.

Mr. Choi can feel it; what a slut you are on top of him, how eagerly you’re grinding your cunt over his bulge, and how jealous the others are watching— and this includes all the blokes that are watching with cigars in their mouths, but also the servants that would have gladly taken your seat and not rub their hands over old, moist, wrinkly skin.

“Sir,” you whimper, as Mr. Choi knobs your breasts, his tough hands cupping each tit, just like headman Park commanded him.

Fuck, how he wishes to be able to see your face as well as well as headman Park does, but the sobby whines might as well do.

“So noisy on my cock,” Mr. Choi snarls, “you’re practically begging for attention, missy.”

“Don’t fucking call me that,” you hiss and the mafiaboss inhales sharply, gasping, his cock jumping, very turned on by your sudden spunky tone. Bingo.

“Did you hear that, brother?”, he whales, tempting the headman to interact with him more as the main viewer of his performance, but the man to his friend is only raising an eyebrow. “Baby's got some zest in her. You like that, don’t you?”

Mr. Choi continues to coo headman Park into defeat, “You like ‘em feisty, brother. I know you, chief execution officer, sir. You wanna ram your cock into this little missy's pretty mouth, just admit it.”

Little missy's pretty mouth. "Say that again, shitbag," you hiss, but Mr. Choi grins and pries into your bust, working folds into your freshly-ironed shirt. "Listen, brother," he breathes, "It gets your cock fucking going, doesn't it?"

The mafiaboss chuckles and adds, so only you can hear it, "Definitely gets my cock going, baby."

Headman Park scans the room, and you can see how he shakes his head, and looks at Mr. Choi with a slight distaste. “You may leave soon.”

“Really?”, Mr. Choi grins, beaming, grabbing your hips forcefully in the joy of it, and while the CEO’s words leave you misled, you sigh into the pressure of being pressed down deep into his muscled thigh, your cunt pulsating through his flesh.

“Change of plans.”

“Alright," he murmurs, just as offended as you are by his lack of reactions, but quickly catching up on his lust to hear, see, feel you more. "But not before I make this baby come."

“Punster,” headman Park jeers and it does occur to you that you’re hearing more of his soft voice than before, but when he looks at his wristwatch, you suppose you’re not doing well enough for him. Look at me, you rich-ass prude, you think and whine, being moved across Mr. Choi’s thigh by his own hands. Your clit feels hot, like it is seriously going to burn and fall off, but you, fuck, feel so good; the sounds just keep leaving your mouth, your high approaching very soon.

“How long were you thinking, brother?”, Mr. Choi asks and is nibbling at your neck, as he rams you over his thigh, fighting with the pace you're breathing wispy and digging your nails more and more into the glass-table until your fingertips turn white.

"Five.”

“Five? Make it ten.”

“You only last ten?”

“You can be such a bully, brother,” Mr. Choi fleers, and you have no fucking idea what they’re talking about, since you are feeling your orgasm coming in less than a minute, stars appearing in front of your eyes. “Make it ten.”

The male takes note of how you're bucking in your pelvis and uses his canine teeth to make your neck flame on, his hand placed roughly around your throat, as you become more sensitive to every move. "Sir," you whisper, a knot forming in your stomach.

Your clit is begging you for mercy at this point, demanding you to get the clothes off your legs so your slick has some way to escape, but you're drenching Mr. Choi's suit-pants in your wetness with stuttered heaving, ready to moan loudly in any second now if you could just find that one fucking spot—

"Are you gonna cum, baby? Right in front of everyone?", he murmurs against your neck and you nod repeatedly, raving your clothed clit on his thick, pillowy muscle, desperately chasing your high. "Come on," he snickers, "Show them what kind of slut missy is, huh? Such a good fucking slut for us, aren't you?"

"Yesyesyes," you whine, not caring for anything than your release, and Mr. Choi is being so kind as to continue breathing heavily into your ear to make you melt into bliss, but nothing gets you on more than the gentle smile that headman Park is sending your way, head slightly tilted to the back— is he nodding? Is he finally approving? Oh, fuck, you think, and you're doing the best job darting your hips non-stop to continue feeling your cunt be stroked by Mr. Choi's flesh, pursuing the CEO's praising acknowledgment. "Good fucking slut on my lap," the mafiaboss cackles, "come for daddy."

"You fucking weirdo," you falter, not wanting to call him "I'm never gonna call you—

Mmmuh!" Mr. Choi grabs you by your hair and tugs it harshly, making your back arch and your head rotate to his side. In the open mouth, his tongue plunges into your throat, the taste of woody herbs and bitter alcohol are flooding your tastebuds. Smearing all of your lipstick, his mouth is pressed against yours like he's sealing yours shut. You convulse your lower body in surprise of the sudden act and holy shit, get that one spot over your clit that's also stroking your gaping entrance, your body releasing all of its heat into one blaring, roaring zap, with your eyes rolling back your head, your stirred voice screaming, "FUCK!"

There is a gasp heard through the dining hall and you're not sure whether it was the chairman, a servant, or headman Park in front of you, but as you are spasming on Mr. Choi's thigh and your back arches to his chest, you feel like the world is expanding on you, peeping, intrusive onlookers cramming out their money to thank you for the show they got, white trickling through the linen of their underwear.

Coming down from your high, weakened and all the while more aroused by the mafiaboss whispering the words "good girl" into your ear, you try to open your eyelids to catch headman Park putting on some black leather-gloves he got from his briefcase, muttering something under his breath to the mafiaboss.

“Go."

What the fuck?

Mr. Choi hooks his arm under your legs while he re-applies his lips to yours, and lifts you up like the pretty princess you are to most of the gawkers that don't stop watching, when he stands up.

Everybody has their eyes on the kiss the mafiaboss and servant missy are sharing, but headman Park doesn’t even look at you, when his partner starts carrying you to the elevator that's waiting for you at the wall about in the middle of the dining table, and just retrieves his open briefcase from the floor. Has he had enough of you already?

“Where are we—“, you breathe, but Mr. Choi kisses you silent, tongue forcing its entry, preventing you from figuring out what's happening, after the mafiaboss puts you down in front of the door and pushes you against the frame roughly. Cheering and hooting encourages him to continue rubbing his thumb over your skin as the other ringed fingers are holding your thigh, and you're pressed against his leg, virtually fenced in by Mr. Choi while he pushes the button for the lift to come.

His eyes are squinting to the side while he works his lips against you, in a way confirming that all of the guests (except the CEO) are begrudgingly anticipating the next actions of the mafiaboss, not caring how the headman is slowly pushing his seat away from the table to get more leg-space, which you seem to be the only person noticing it.

The golden door opens with a bell dinging the elevator’s arrival, and Mr. Choi grabs you by your ass, leading the way inside it. You can't see it correctly with your eyes closed, can only feel his big arms push into your frame, but he even makes for a show-like exit, burlesquely saluting the audience with two fingers, clicking with his mouth. It must really be a habit, you think, and giggle into the kiss.

The men attempt to throw bankrolls into your space and some succeed, some don't, but while you're glad your plan worked out, you aren't too sure what you've just done with, or for the mafiaboss.

Your heated kiss continues and because you want to feel him, you unbutton his shirt that doesn’t need that much working, three buttons being pushed open by your jellylike hands. Before you can unclothe him though, Mr. Choi pushes his arm against the mirror next to your head, stopping you to take a look at his wristwatch. He strokes his hair to the back with the other hand, revealing some of his meaty abs, and once he’s reached the backside of his head, he slides his fingers down his neck and around his Adam's apple to scratch it, announcing, “Ten minutes on the clock. Shit, brother's dick must be fucking exploding in his pants right now."

“Sir?”, you ask, overwhelmed by the words that are not making sense in your head, but also distracted by his hand that’s around your tie.

“Given he really could've finished in five but,” he yanks you towards his face. “I wanted to have you a bit more for myself, missy.”

He smiles, very arrogantly like the patronizing fuck he is, like he knows how strong he is, what a dominating aura he possesses, but at this point, in between the mirrors and on this black, marbled floor, you are not at the chairman’s dinner anymore, aren’t a servant anymore– you aren’t bound to any authority, are you?

“If you fucking call me ‘missy’ again, I’ll bite your fucking dick off.”

Except for the moment that you’re talking to him, a mafiaboss, whose breast is marked by— and you can see it very clearly now for it fits perfectly into yours— hands that have shared the same, if not a similar experience with you.

“How’d you know I was into biting, baby?”

And holy fuck, his back looks even crazier.

“God, sir,” you breathe out in awe and a little bit of fear. You can count the lines of red scratches on his back and as you finally let his shirt fall from his shoulders, the reflection of his muscles, how they relax under your touch. You become starstruck. Everything about him is so scarring, but fuck, how it attracts you, the wildness, the savagery— there��s something so free about him.

"What, baby? You like what you're seeing? How naughty..."

Ten minutes aren’t a lot, but Mr. Choi makes his best attempt to hurry over the trivial parts of fucking you. He steps closer, your ass hitting the handrail, legs crossing together, and your buttons pop in one rip, as his two hands rupture your blouse open. He lets his shirt drop to the floor, all the while his lips clash against the nook of your neck, making you sigh under the luminous lights of the elevator and grab his neck. You’re getting hazy, horny; damn, it’s been so long you’ve had a good fuck. Satisfactory sex is another luxury you were postponing for later.

With his lips sewn on your shoulder, kissing and forcing his tongue against a spot he deems especially tasty, the half-naked male unzips your skirt to finally reveal the black pantyhose that looks soaked in your slick. After he chuckles at the sight of it, Mr. Choi licks over his lips and cups your jaw with his hand, drawing a trail of insatiable kisses across your skin.

“Still wanna bite my dick off?”, he asks with a sly smirk, breathy, having caught your aroused look locked on his silver chains, his jacked upper body inviting you to get your mouth in there until it’s molded around your teeth.

“Come on, baby,” the male provokes you, “You think I’m gonna fuck you just like this? Think I’m gonna ram myself inside your cute fucking cunt ‘cause I’m such a big scary fucking man?”

You inhale sharply. “N- no, I…”, you breathe out, letting your tongue run over your teeth.

“Aw, baby, am I making you shy?”, Mr. Choi hoots, “I didn’t think you were a shy one. You were pretty noisy on my thigh for your cunt, weren’t you? Getting all the sounds out for brother to hear them… You really served a show there, baby.”

Your mouth only lets out stammered gibberish– you have never learnt how to talk dirty, but Mr. Choi uses your opened lips to ram his tongue into it again anyway, and you're almost proud to say you've gotten used to it.

He breathes rashly through his nose, and he tastes less of bourbon but more of dulcet desire, mixed in with the red of your lipstick sitting on his lip. Your knee strokes his erection while he gets his hands behind your back to get your bra off, lips clashing and raving against each other. “Letting your body talk for you?”, Mr. Choi husks, panting at having his overstrained cock touched. He relieves you from the pressure around the bust and continues to ramble. "I knew I could have a lot of fun with you the second I laid my eyes on you.” You pant and reunite your lips with his. "Little missy, such a whore for the rich."

He’s overconfident he’s seeing right through you, it infuriates you. Mr. Choi massages his hands into your breasts, the cold rings grazing sharply into your warm flesh, and as your knee is still between his crotch, you huff. You can be a whore for the rich when you’re earning money, but right now, you’re doing things for your own pleasure.

“Are you going to have a lot of fun with me?”, you sing-song in a high-pitched female voice to the mafiaboss that’s immediately taken aback, and you know the word 'missy' is on top of his tongue again, when you interrupt him with a quick jab of your knee into his groin. "Shit-eating fat-cat."

Mr. Choi grunts, head tilting down. His feline eyes meet your foxy ones, and while you weren't preparing for a staredown, the mafiaboss smirks and bites his lip.

He has a lot to say, you can see it. There’s something glimmering under the lust-drunken layer behind his eyes, and it’s deep, goes deeper, but for some reason, the mafiaboss, who just so despicably couldn’t hold his mouth, doesn’t let out the words that’s crossing his mind.

“Sir–”

Wrong deduction.

Mr. Choi scowls in laughter, and you guess he meant to joke with you, but he means to play with you much more, when he, once again, lifts you up, by your waist this time, and balances you on the handrail.

Resting his forearm on your thighs to stabilize you, Mr. Choi digs in his pocket to fetch his cigarette box, looking at himself through the mirror and shaking some strands out of his face. "Shit-eating fat-cat," he repeats with a lisp, pulling out one of the slim rolls with the corner of his mouth, and he continues to chuckle, as he glances at you through his eyelashes, "you should've said that to the old geezer when you had the chance to, baby."

"The chairman?"

No answer. Mr. Choi lights his cigarette with a zippo, and keeps it lit in his mouth, as he, with no forewarning, tears open your pantyhose from your crotch with both of his hands, spreading your legs wide. You have to get your hands around his head to be able to keep yourself on the handrail.

“Why do you look so scared? Think I’m gonna fuck you?”, he lisps. “I’m just taking a good look, baby. What a pretty cunt you got there, baby.”

You gulp. Mr. Choi slides his index finger across your heated folds through the fabric and your cunt clenches together, wanting to be filled up. “Sir,” you sigh, and the mafiaboss pulls in smoke from his cig, raising an eyebrow.

“What, baby? ‘You need something?”, he asks, “You’re not a fucking servant anymore, or do you need to be ordered around, missy?”

You try to look angry, but Mr. Choi only pouts and presses his finger through your panties, soaking them in your slick that’s gathered at your entrance. “Desperate to please the money-man? So wet for him…”

“Fuck you,” you mewl, but Mr. Choi knows what he’s doing when he thumbs your clit and exhales smoke into your face, hiding his face for a short second which gives you confidence. “I need you… to fuck me.”

“What did you say, baby? I couldn’t hear.”

“Please, sir, just… fuck me, please…”

“Louder.”

“God! Just fuck me! Didn’t you say we have ten minutes? Make them fucking count!”

“There we go, baby. My slutty little missy. Oh, baby, you’re growing on me, brother’s gonna hate that.”

You huff and Mr. Choi slides your panties off your legs, taking a short glimpse at his wristwatch. “Damn, ten’s really a short time.”

How many minutes have passed? Ten already? You know you said it, but you mentioned it only because it made sense, if you’re honest, you have no clue what the time is worth for. Aren't these the men who have time for gold?

The biting smell of tobacco enters your nose, making you cough out loud. Is smoking even allowed in the elevator? Wait, wait, wait, no, maybe you should worry about other things, for example what you're going to do when those ten minutes are over, when all of this is over. They clearly have some type of plan and thing they are carrying out right now, but you don’t know how much you’re invited in there.

Mr. Choi finishes his quick break, inhaling one last puff and keeping his cig between his lips again, and his hands unbuckle his belt in silence, while you contemplate.

Clanking, ruttling, and steps begin to thump behind the door— have any of you two even pressed a button? The mafiaboss looks concentrated, fixed on your cunt, taking out his throbbing, panging cock out his underwear, stroking it a few times to god, fuck, finally get to touch it after having been dry-humped hot.

Squelching, huffing, and voices echo through the floor— is that the chairman you hear? You can only yelp, when Mr. Choi drags off your panties and slathering his thick fingers across your folds in one, then penetrating with another forceful movement.

"Fuck!", you hiss out, grabbing the handrail next to your hips, trying to balance yourself on it still. The mafiaboss snickers into your ear, and tours through your cunt, all the while it appears that all hell is breaking loose outside.

BANG!

"Sir, what—!"

"Shhh, baby," Mr. Choi hushes you, and takes out his cig with the fingers that are now glistening with your wetness, placing it on top of his lips vertically to the scar that is accompanying his smug smirk.

BANG!

"You got nothin' to worry 'bout, baby," he lulls, "we're just eatin' the pheasant and the egg here," and exhales smoke into your face out his mouth-hole, which distracts you from the third, fourth—

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Another proverb, pheasant and the egg— 'two birds with one stone'. Mr. Choi unfolds his hand as if he was counting the minutes, or the shots— wait, yes, shots! Fuck, those are gun-shots, right? You've never heard something so loud ever in your life, where does someone get guns from in South Korea? What even would they need guns for? Why would they use them? What the fuck is happening outside?!

"Oh, fuck!", you moan out, before fear and realization can crawl up your scalp and take away your lusting for the male, Mr. Choi has jerked his hip up, his cock gliding into you smoothly as if your cunt was made for him, the length and girth perfectly curling inside. Your back arches, at least as far as you can arch it, and he grins bemusedly at your jolted reaction.

BANG!

With every blast that follows, Mr. Choi is thrusting into you, first slowly, but then adding more speed and vigor as he goes, or as the blasting goes, making you shakily watch yourself be wrecked by the broad man through the reflection on the other side, your legs dangling with his rough movement.

You don't know how he's fucking you through your tightness, because with each ducking of his hips it feels like your inner walls are expanding more and ungodly more, as if he was piercing you in half.

Small puffs of smoke leave Mr. Choi's mouth each time he pants out raspy "oh baby"s and loud claps of him slapping your ass overtone the screaming, scrambling noises outside, as you two work your lower bodies against and into each other, growing more passionate, throbbing feverishly.

"Fuck, baby," Mr. Choi hisses, cigarette tilting in his mouth, as his face frowns together. "So fucking good for daddy, aren't you? So fucking tight and wet, such a good fucking girl—"

The screams outside are dying down, but the mafiaboss and you are getting louder, breathier, lustier; with your head falling backwards, hitting the mirror, the twisting feeling of fear and the ecstasy to be bouncing on Mr. Choi's big cock mix up like one hellish drink, boiling and churning inside of you.

Smashing both his hands on each of you ass-cheeks to dig his fingers into them and get more stability to ram into you so fast, and oh boy, it's so fucking fast, you're going to spiral— Mr. Choi sputters, "Are you gonna come? Are you going to come for daddy, baby? Greedy baby gonna take daddy's huge fucking load?"

The male is unraveling, his once low, stable voice turning into a whiny, hoarse, cracked mess just like you, practically urging, begging you to finally take the name ‘daddy’ into your mouth.

"Come on baby, say it for me, huh? Feels good to be my slut?", he disentangles, "Be a good slut for daddy, baby."

"I'm not gonna call you— that, fuckhead!", you moan, though your insides are curdling together to finally be released, the knot tightening with each drop of sweat that is forming on your boiling face.

"Really? Think you can afford to misbehave, baby?", Mr. Choi snickers and spits his cig on the floor, your ass being handled at an insane speed, his cock slipping in and out of you with rough ease. He takes it upon himself to dig his teeth into the nook of your neck, biting you heftily, your pulse knocking against your throat, as you feel his cock run in and out of your cunt. Your head goes light and dazed, but before you can gasp out your high from being fucked, bitten, sent to bliss, the male sinks you deep into his cock fully, it does not give you the last thrust you would need to—

"Fuckfuckfuck, I'm gonna cum," you whimper, needing to tremble, but unable to move because his hands are restricting you from any movement, and you continue to bring out a string of weak "pleasepleaseplease" that bounces back from the mafiaboss, who is raising an eyebrow, waiting for the magic word to be spoken out of your wet lips. Tears have formed at the corner of your eye and he thumbs it away, grinning coyly.

"Fuck you, I'mnotgonna fucking, ugh—!", you sob, "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!"

"Aww, you wanna hate daddy so bad, don’t you?”

“Fuuuck you!” Whines leave your mouth, wanting to cum, wanting to move, wanting for Mr. Choi to continue fucking into you and not wipe away your tears.

“Just say you love me, baby,” he heaves and returns his hand to your hip.

Thrusting into you once with a clap against your groin, to make your cunt clench around him, and then twice with the last blood-curdling BANG! from outside, his cock is deep inside you. He feels you tighten, pulsate, craving to be released, but Mr. Choi will not move again to your liking until you finally let go of yourself, which riles you up with no hope.

"F— Fuuuck, okay!", you scream out, annoyed, angry, wanting to fucking cum; "Daddy!", you sob and Mr. Choi smirks, instantly getting to work to toast the adieu of your pride. Thumb on your clit, he circles around your sensitive bud to double the tension you feel through all of your body, while you gutter, "fuck me, daddy, please, make me cum, please, daddy, please—"

He laughs, no, howls— elated, animated, drunk, and then, with his strong, buff fucking arms, pounds you into his cock like a punching bag, your ass hitting his pelvis so many times until you have to use his gelled hair as a last resort to hold yourself up and not push yourself from the handrail with your head against the mirror, but he holds you, holds you steadily in his grip.

"Good god, good fucking missy, such a good fucking slut for me, cum all over my cock– all over my fucking cock, baby," Mr. Choi grunts, and the string that was keeping you balanced snaps, your orgasm hitting you like that makes your insides tighten around the mafiaboss and his throbbing girth, your whole body being flushed by an overwhelming wave of pleasure which you drink up whole. His cockhead rubs against your sweetspot, you riding out the high while seeing nothing but bliss.

"Holy fuck," you breathe, and your fingers grip into the thick skin of his back, and with Mr. Choi's hips not stopping to hit your pelvis, there are additional, injuring, deep red marks on there with every thrust. You’re scratching him like a beast wanting to tear up its prey, but the beast is fucking into you like there’s no tomorrow. His cock does not stop grazing against your deepest spot, tears rolling down your heated cheek, and your mouth is unable to get out the words you want it to when you get the feeling that he's going to cum soon.

"O- out," you warn him, but the mafiaboss makes a disappointed face, “I– I really can’t afford a child, p-please pull out–!”

He draws his eyebrows in, scoffs and looks you deep in the eyes, his muscular body tucked in, murmuring, rambling out his whiskey-painted throat, “Is that really your only problem, baby? That you don’t have enough money?” His forehead leans against yours and your eyelids flutter open– you are being a mitt around his dick– and he pouts in pity, his iron cross hanging from his chest, as he talks to you.

Mr. Choi gets his hand flat on your lower belly and presses down on it, feeling himself bulge inside you. He moves his hips slowly, his cockhead dragging across your sweetspot, while he gutters, “you’d look so sexy as a mother, don’t you think, baby? With the tummy and all.”

“S- sir, please I–”

"Come on, do you think I don’t have enough money to pay for a fucking kid? God, how fucking annoying– I’m not that kind of man, baby,” Mr Choi growls, his voice vibrating against your cheek, as he charges his forehead deeper against yours, “I still got some honor.”

You shake your head, unsure whether there are pills for after in the pharmacies, or whether the mafiaboss will really be there to be with you as he promises, but Mr. Choi continues to beg in his low breathy, guttery voice. “Baby,” he rumbles, pressing even harder on your abdomen, your ass being pushed into the handrail that you’re sure it’s going to leave one red straight mark, and his cock is almost exploding from the edge, “Let me, no, let daddy cum into your tight cunt, baby, please.”

God, he wants you. He wants you so bad, doesn’t he?

"Y- you should see yourself," you chuckle, stroking over Mr. Choi's gelled hair, and his head tilts up a little bit as your fingers get tangled in his black locks, the white of his eyes making him look like a wild dog waiting for its treat. "F-fucking do it, you fucking slut."

"Fuck, baby," he laughs, out of breath, "You’re really a price."

Mr. Choi hammers his hips into you, until the stars in front of you all look like wishes falling from the sky. Both of you feel it, how his cock just feels so right, fits in like your cunt is a fucking glove which is full and getting even fuller.

"God, fuck," Mr. Choi grunts from the bottom of his throat, his hot cum lading into you, and it's like your lower body is melting with it, becoming heavier with every drop he's unloading inside.

"Take all of my fucking cum," he husks and your faces clash together for one finishing wild kiss. Mr. Choi sucks on your lower lip, as he fucks his ejaculation deeper and deeper into your hole with slow thrusts, until he bucks up his pelvis the last time and moans out a raspy, “perfect fucking missy with a perfect fucking cunt..."

Ding!

For a man that uses his mouth so sparingly, his tongue surely works wonders.

"Sir, are you—"

Headman Park has entered the elevator without a word, pulling off his leather gloves, and with Mr. Choi stepping away, he has all the place he requires to get on his knees and throw your leg over his shoulder, his wet and warm muscle delving into your throbbing cunt. You've been bereaved of the time to inspect what was behind or around him when the door closed, but maybe that's irrelevant anyways. What is relevant, is how impatient, but also how careful the CEO remains, and how he still tries his best to slowly sift his tongue into your folds, feeling every inch of your wetness. He’s been dying to do this.

"Fuck, sir!"

"Please," the CEO chuckles, hastily pulling the black leathery from his hands to put it back in his briefcase that he's been carrying, but he doesn't miss your cunt once, purling over your clit and glancing at you. "Call me Seonghwa, princess."

You could cum right here and there, just at the sight of this pretty man looking up to you, who has laid out his first name and put it into yours, scream it out loud until everyone hears what a princess you've been made of.

Princess. You knew his eyes were different, but you didn’t know they saw the world differently too. Oh, how you wish you could see more of his world.

"Aww, what? That's why you're still a foreigner in our country, brother! 'Can't be dropping our titles," Mr. Choi huffs and lights himself a second cigarette, filling the elevator with smoke and tobacco. How his breath really doesn't smell is questionable to you.

Just like you, the CEO, or how you're allowed to call him now— Seonghwa, ignores his partner's words, laps over your clit with his tongue, gently easing into your cunt with his clean fingers, and your soft sighs are like a reward for him, for whatever he's done outside.

"Respect, brother, 's all about respect..."

You tighten your thighs around Seonghwa's neck. The charcoal-haired has closed his eyes, sighing into the taste of you, and you are flawlessly overlooking the loud mafiaboss, just completely concentrating on the commitment the CEO is eating you out with. His head fits magically between your legs, he works his fingers so flawlessly into you, this must be fate— and if it's not, you're going to make it your future in any which way possible. You're falling. No, flying; never coming down.

"Seonghwa," you whine, and your hand glides over the hooked male's forehead, his hair feeling smooth under your touch as he presses his tongue slowly— in circular motion— against your clit to keep you on the high, but not in a way that would make you trip over.

"Mmf," the mafiaboss in front of you huffs, clearly attracted, enticed by the way you've exhaled the other male’s first name, scratching his temple with the fingers that are holding his cigarette.

"Whether you wanna call me San or 'daddy', baby," the scarred male, no, San, the fucker grins, "I'm gonna be hearing both either way."

"Fuck—", you moan out, having to take a breath because of how Seonghwa has curled his fingers into you with his tongue ready to shovel anything into his mouth that comes out, "you, fuckhead!"

The CEO is giggling a bit, finding your tone very amusing— and he tries to tell you this by looking up and slanting his eyes a friendly way, no, a way that you've never even conjured up the fantasy to perceive him, the cold-faced Park Seonghwa who hasn't drunk a drop of alcohol tonight. What pureness in a man...

"I liked 'fat-cat' better,” San snickers and goes through his hair that definitely needs combing, turning around and looking at himself through the mirror, though his eyes squint towards Seonghwa's reflection on the other side, now again lost in your cunt, taking off his jacket and folding it in half behind his back.

"Brother, you're eating my cum, by the way," the mafiaboss jabs, puffing out smoke while he's decidedly getting hard again in his trousers. San really can't hide his emotions on his face, can he? His lips are pursed, eyebrows slightly pulled in— how obvious. The man is jealous and doesn't want to admit it, you're sure of it.

"Shut up," you hiss, having become a bit comfortable with teasing the frustrated, outwitted mafiaboss. Ten minutes were definitely too little for him, but you've already rid his thigh, let him cum inside, and Seonghwa is simply too good with his tongue right now.

"Fuuuck," you whisper, and feel every drowsy twirl of his finger inside you, but it's slow, so slow, Seonghwa is swerving around every sponginess inside you, savoring the contraction of your inner space, and how your muscles tighten, when he licks over your clit, he enjoys this; enjoys you.

And so it continues, Park Seonghwa exploring every detail of your cunt as if he's a sommelier tasting the rarest of fluids, appreciating every drop that lands on his tongue, his fingers making sure that they don't go to waste.

"Shit," San comments, "I should've eaten her out, too."

The CEO is not cocky about it, about the way you are grabbing into his hair and squirming, how he has to slightly lift you up so you don't fall from your position. And then, when Seonghwa thinks your taste has perfectly coated his palate, speeds up.

"Fuck, sir," and the title slips out of you, like a habit you can't change for good when you feel so small. The CEO between your legs doesn't mind it though, at least doesn't say anything on it and just lets his fingers hit your sweet spot until there is a distinctive "Seonghwa" leaving sighed out your lips.

"I'm going to—", you announce, but the male has been long aware of it, preparing himself more access by bending his upper body to angle himself across your cunt, giving his partner a better view on how you glisten in arousal.

San in front of you is standing frozen, with his cigarette slowly burning out in his mouth, and you recompense the lack of his cock in your cunt by moaning louder, so your voice can vibrate around his erection. He grins and gets a tongue to his canine tooth, naked upper body still glowing in sweat, muscles shining, cock twitching every time he hears you breathe, and breathe more intensely, "make me cum, Seonghwa, please!"

"I knew you would taste delicious," Seonghwa murmurs, silently, rather for himself, and this must be how he sounds when he's drunk, because he is so high on your taste, "but this is ambrosial, princess."

You curl up your pelvis, and Seonghwa holds you by your hips, as his tongue picks up in speed, drawing out every word he hasn't spoken tonight on your labia, stamping them into your clit, all the while his fingers row in more and every last drop.

"C- coming~", you purr, and your eyes close down, your hands deep in Seonghwa's scalp, exhaling the weight of your worries, that flushes down into the man who seems to have none in his life, and he breathes into your hot cunt through his nose, not letting go of it until he's made sure that your hips tremble around his head. "P- please, f- fuck, fuck, feels so good—"

Pumping the remaining come into you, Seonghwa licks up your cunt and kisses your clit until you go completely flaccid, your arms giving in, but Seonghwa catches you by your hand, kissing your thigh with his swollen pink lips.

With your body relaxed, your ass feels a bite sore, having been prodded into the iron rail for so long. You grab into Seonghwa's hand and try to push yourself up, but ultimately fail at getting yourself into a more comfortable position.

"San, hold her."

"Huh?", he asks, "'Need something more snuggly, baby? Or what did you call her again, brother?"

"Princess," the CEO answers immediately and you have to suppress a girly giggle, as Seonghwa turns his head around, lips still pressed against your thigh. He presumably sends San an admonitory look to hurry up, and gets up from his knees.

The mafiaboss shrugs, not offended by being ordered around. He puts out the cigarette against the mirror and cracks his neck by rolling his head around, his thick neck dousing into your sight as he does so. He's so intimidating, you think, but he's on his way to coast those monster-arms behind your back, hands down to each of your hamstrings to, "up you go," pick you up like real royalty. The giggle escapes your mouth but you don't feel the slightest embarrassed nor do you have a reason to be. You are sunken deep into San’s cushiony arms— his muscles make for a great seat, and hovering, air hitting your hot cunt, as your legs spread for the CEO in front of you when you fall into the elbows. You yelp, but the giggles just keep coming, making San in the mirror in front of you wink at you, cackling, "you like that, princess?"

Seonghwa smiles, satisfied by your enjoyment of this position and approaches you once more. "I have yet to kiss you, Y/N," he says with his sweet voice, and his gentle hands find your chin and waist, your eyes blossoming open for him to stare into.

Even San shuts up now, and you suppose he is too taking part in the beauty that is the embrace of you and Seonghwa; two sets of lips, crazing each other, meeting for one flowery affair, breathing out small vapors of life. You can taste yourself, which means that Seonghwa is fully consumed by your aroma.

God, you think again, your cunt tingling at how Seonghwa tugs at his tie, pulling it side to side as he kisses you— the golden 'π'-pin clanks shrill to the floor— everything about Seonghwa is so...

Clean?

You are inhaling the mellow smell of his satiny skin, and the CEO unbuttons his shirt with proficient, skilfull flicks of his fingers. He is so handsome, handsomely pretty, and even when it’s drenched in your fluids, his skin shines on its own, like Seonghwa has a light shining within. Once you can see his bare chest and get lost on the smooth surface, your eyes dive down, admiring his slim, yet very muscular physique.

Seonghwa gets his tie and drags off his shirt by tugging at one sleeve with his hand, the white fabric revealing the rest of body with one clean pull that matches one of the curtains.

"W-", and you have to jump back with your head to get the full spectacle that's presented in front of you, exhaling in awe— "Wow.."

"Not so blank, our brother, is he?", San chuckles from behind of you and lowers his head to press his chin against your temple, surveying the same sight.

Two colossal, monstrous dragons, red and black, are colliding, looped, entangled all around Seonghwa's right arm, fighting for dominance on his skin. The raven hydra has its jaw wide open where Seonghwa looks to his shoulder with a rather shy smile once he sees your reaction, baring its teeth towards his heart, while the crimson dragon ends at the CEO's wrist, sitting on top of his pulse.

"Would you believe me it was brother's idea, baby?"

"As if," Seonghwa murmurs, folding his shirt into a square.

San chuckles again, re-shuffling himself and pressing your back close to his stomach, granting the back of your head to rest at his collarbone. "I asked her if she would believe, brother."

You watch the delicate lines, the elegant strokes of tint meeting on his skin, but while your first impression made you believe they carried a certain viciousness with their svelte bodies, the second sight presents you a different image of two forces maneuvering into each other as a reminder that they both co-exist as supreme. It's not one another they're reviling against, it's the bearer of the both who is threatened by their fangs. Their existence is a warning reminder, but also a sign of pride.

"I believe it's... beautiful."

“Aw, you’re so sweet, baby.”

You haven't seen many tattoos in your life, none in the mountains, and even in the city the only observable tattoos were those of the sleazy guys in alleys that wait when you're done with your job to gape at your uniform. They got tigers and other animals roaring on their bodies to hide the fact they don't have the fighting skills to keep up, but for Seonghwa, a CEO, to have this amount of ink under his skin is a commitment and to imagine he’s hiding that under his ironed shirt and black jacket, no, that you are seeing it right now, it’s… You’re overwrought, steamed up, aflame.

"Wanna touch it, baby?", San asks, and you nod eagerly. Seonghwa chuckles, “Go for it.”

You let your fingertip ghost over the dragons' scales, tailing their curvature. Goosebumps form on Seonghwa's arm and his hand finds its way to your head, stroking your cheek, as you meet the red beast's eyes.

The mafiaboss whispers, almost sentimentally, "No blood or tears."

Another expression, which proves to you that the tattoo was undoubtedly his idea, but you see it, the romance that is spoken from the male's skin, regardless of the little insight you have on both of them. Loyalty, reverence, creed, a belief and a duty, and before you know it, you want Seonghwa to enwrap you with his arms and never let you go, which he does.

His slender hand cloaks the left side of your head, and he pulls himself into a kiss, while he unbuckles his belt with his other hand.

You don't know how much you understand of this situation, no, you don't know how much you want to understand of this situation.

You've been on your own. That's all you ever had after you left home: Your body and soul, the windstorms of the mountains pushing you from the back to keep going, and you've lived your best life living for yourself that way, in bliss, in ignorance— in peace, but what is peace in a place where you can't move by yourself? In a world that’s maimed by the rich, and sure, it may be that you’ve chosen your path, but you were never walking a road that was yours, always trailing behind something.

Nameless, that’s what you thought you would need to be.

Your monks wanted to be called their title like everyone else, it would have been disrespectful to ask Lady Kim for hers which you now regret, and not even as a secret did your old man tell you his name, but you— you, Y/N, you have a name and you want to scream it, live it as loud as you can, hear it echo back with a volume that feels stronger when it rings back.

You could have settled on being acknowledged by your supervisor to earn some good money, but this is what you’re here for, aren’t you? Why you trusted your gut to stick to the scary men? Why you walked to them with confident steps, even when a nervous knot was forming together inside you? Did you go as what, an act of defiance? One of independence? To prove yourself that you were still standing on your own feet?

"Speaking of, brother..."

Yes, with no shame.

"You really enjoyed yourself back there, didn’t you?”, San asks. “Didn’t expect that from you.”

Seonghwa is kissing you down your breast, observing closely how you breathlessly react to his tongue twirling around your nipple.

"You left me no other chance," the older male hums, coating your circular buds with his saliva, bringing out your heavenly sighs every chance he gets, stroking himself to the sounds of your pleasure.

"Well, I would have made sure you still fucked her, brother."

“Sure,” Seonghwa lisps and positions his cockhead at your entrance.

You try to grab San's shoulder behind you, as the male pushes himself inside, and your torso rotates to the side with your eyebrows pulling together, your cunt being spread apart. “F-fuck,” you exhale, and Seonghwa kisses the corner of your lip to soothe you. Your cunt squelches around his cock and your hips roll by themselves, wanting to take more of his length.

"Shit, look at her go," the mafiaboss woos, "Fuck yourself out, brother."

"Think you’ll miss this?", Seonghwa snickers and it must be the first question he has asked today. “Y- yeah, you will!”, you snap, feeling eager to be acknowledged for how good your cunt wraps around his throbbing heat.

“Oh, princess,” the CEO laughs, and your stomach drops because of how pretty his laughter sounds, and he caresses your cheek, only making your confusion and desire to finally uncover what the two men have obviously been keeping from you grow bigger. You don’t want to say it abruptly, but you three are naked, in a confined space, skins pressed against each other, so you believe you’re worth some type of explanation– or are you not?

“C- can you tell me what’s going to happen?”, you whine, and Seonghwa moves his hips, grabbing you by your waist to get his whole length. “Are you, fuck, going to leave me?”

“I dunno, brother, you call it,” San mutters. “It was your plan.”

“D- don’t!”

“It’s barely my plan anymore,” Seonghwa breathes, bucking his pelvis in, his cockhead being sucked in by your sensitive cunt.

“Don’t leave me!”

“You needed a distraction, brother, I got you one.”

“No,” Seonghwa chuckles, but in his heat, he kisses you and glances up at San while his tongue brushes against your lip. “But I’ll admit she saved us some jail-time, San.”

They continue talking over your pleas, and though you would have loved to ask a second time how the night was going to end, your brain has started to give into the pleasure once San folds your legs together, holding you by your hamstrings, giving Seonghwa an easier angle to fuck you senseless.

“F- fu-huuck,” you breathe out, and your eyes are disappearing behind your molten, droopy eyelids, with Seonghwa cumming for the second time on your abdomen and cleaning it up with his handkerchief, and you don’t even know when it was, that San crammed out his cock again, but you can definitely feel the difference of his girth, when he re-enters your used cunt, your legs shakily landing on the floor. They feel wobbly, your thighs having gone loose, and the mafiaboss has to hold you by your arms behind your back to support you.

“Can’t take it anymore, baby?”, San whispers into your ear, and his voice is low, very low, you don’t know how much time has passed since you could make out any of his words, but it feels like you’re back here, in the elevator, and Seonghwa is putting on his belt again.

“I c- can!”, you manage to whine out, not wanting the night to end, not wanting to return to your small apartment, not wanting these two to be gone from your life. “I can!”, you repeat yourself, when San lets out a mockful cackle. “You’re not going to fucking leave me here, San!”

“Who said anything about leaving you here, baby?”, he asks you, and he does mean his confusion, but the sarcastic undertone makes you desperate grow desperate. San frowns. “What did I tell you, baby?”

“You aren’t telling me shit, San!”, you sob, and his cock running through you prevents you from finding a braver voice, his two hands find your wrists to bind them together in his grip. “Aren’t you such a smartie,” he growls into your ear, hot air hitting your dissolving ear.

“Brother,” San calls out, and the addressed man is busy opening up his briefcase, getting on his knee. “I’m still waiting on you, y’know.”

“If you had stuck to the plan, th–” Seonghwa murmurs, but the mafiaboss falls into his word. “Then we would have fuckin’ send the bitch to prison and someone else would have him killed him, but there! You know I didn’t come with the fucking patience for that, brother! Geezer was getting on my fucking nerves.”

Killed?

“And don’t you talk back now,” San warns, “It was you who killed all of ‘em, so you figure out how you’re going to carry that one out.”

Killed?

“You already know how I’m going to carry this out.” Seonghwa smirks. “But you’re stopping me, San.”

“Augh, brother, you’re too sober for your own sake!” San’s cock is too deep in your cunt and your body is too much in his control for you to stop moaning like a bitch, but in your head, you’re puzzling together tonight’s happenings.

Expensive whiskey. Ice cubes. Ten minutes, gunshots, black leather gloves– “killed.”

Oh, Y/N.

“What did you do with the chairman, Seonghwa?”, you moan out, feeling how the mafiaboss is ramming himself into you at a sloppy, greedy pace, prolonging how much he can be inside you before he comes again, and you don’t know whether his heavy breathing can cover up the silence that it takes for the CEO to react to your question.

Seonghwa is still kneeled on the floor, when he rotates his head, smiling, his eyebrows pushed up. “What do you think I did?” His second question of the day.

“I- I,” you stutter, but San shakes his head, and interrupts you with his voice still loose from the alcohol, “you really don’t know how to keep up a good mood, brother!”, grabbing you by your chin and yanking your head up. “Lemme make my baby cum first!”

You can’t see Seonghwa anymore. You can barely see anything anymore, you’re counting your fifth or sixth orgasm of the night, cunt growing hotter with each time San thrusts into it, and with your breath being cut off, you slowly feel your arms lose their responsibility, tingling up from where your wrists are crossed behind your back. His cockhead is flaying against your g-spot and your thighs tremble at how used you’re being, eyes falling in, throat feeling tied up.

“S- San,” you manage to cough out, back arching for your final cry of pleasure, and San grins, letting go of your wrists, which makes you immediately fall to the front, finding safety against the mirror with both of your hands. He smacks his hands against your ass and lunges into you until your whole breast is pushed against the cold wall.

“Come on, baby, come for me,” San roars, and you wail, tired, exhausted, feeling the orgasm drown you like another wave in the ocean of bliss you’ve been swimming in, whining out, “coming, coming for you, San!”

The mafiaboss presses himself against your back, his silver cross being imprinted into your neck, as he unloads himself, his last drops of hot cum overflowing out of you. “Fucking slut… So fucking good…”

He kisses your jaw repeatedly and looks at how tiredly closed your eyes are in the mirror, cooing “aww, baby.” San strokes away a strand of hair and gets himself off your body, pulling out. “You look like you need some sleep, baby.”

You are trying to catch your breath, grabbing the handrail to hold yourself up, as it sounds like San is putting on his shirt again. They’re gonna fucking leave you here, aren’t they? Leave you here in the elevator with the– with the fucking bankrolls on the floor of the fucking men you fucking– Oh god… Keep breathing, Y/N. Keep on breathing.

“I mean all I’m saying… you know… lobsters and crabs are friends, pal.”

What the fuck is he on again…

“You’re making this hard on yourself.”

“I’m not doing anything, just sayin’ that she just grew on me, that’s all.”

Your legs tremble, as you try straightening them to stand up and see what the two are scheming again, but as you turn your body around, ass against the handrail again, you hear a very unfamiliar clicking in front of your forehead area which is not coming out of San’s mouth.

“You’ve grown soft. That’s what you did.”

“Ahhh, fuck you, brother.”

“Pathetic.”

You see a hole, and it also doesn’t take you long to see Seonghwa ready to pull the trigger, the mafiaboss leaning into the corner of the elevator, arms crossed, looking at you with an unlit cigarette in his mouth, pressing the button that leads to the lobby.

The night is over.

“A- are you going to– oh my g-god, are you going to kill me…?”

“Yes, princess.”

Your heart is going to burst, you could puke out so many words right now, but you don’t know what to do. You don’t want to die, not when you felt so fucking alive– you– fuck, you should feel sorry that your coworkers that they didn’t deserve to go the same way as the asswipes did, because you’ve long realised that the bangs were their skulls being crushed by the bullets, but at the same time you couldn’t care any fucking less about them right now. You just have to survive, that was the only thing that mattered since the very beginning. This is about your life. Your precious fucking life.

“Ah…”

Your body is too weak to hyperventilate, but your brain is working overtime. Do you run? Attack them? No…

Seonghwa hasn’t moved an inch away from your face, and you take it upon yourself to raise your hand and slowly push the cold, black gun to the side, so you can look him in his eyes, but he forces it back there.

“Please don’t kill me… I can do so much for you! I– I,” you stutter, trying to gather all the knowledge your monks have taught you. “I– I’ll do anything! You– you saw me, didn’t you? I have– I’ve been told I have a talent for serving! I– I can do anything, please, I beg you, just…”

You fall to your knees, and they burn on the glassy floor, your hands folded in front of your abdomen.

“Just please, let me live…”

You’re not greedy. You’ve only taken what you were given, and tonight, you’ve been given so much. Too much? No, it couldn’t be…

“Brother.”

There are tears flowing down your eyes, and you feel so sorry for yourself. You miss your old monk, and hope that you may be reincarnated to a butterfly that he can admire, just so that he can look at you with his adoring eyes again. So someone can want the best for you once in your life–

“Brother?”

So anyone can finally love you for once in your life.

next part coming soon... series masterlist | main masterlist

#cromernet #choi san x reader #choi san smut #choi san scenarios #choi san x you #choi san x y/n #park seonghwa x y/n #park seonghwa scenarios #park seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa smut #ateez scenario #ateez smut #ateez x reader #chokkiwa #chokko #drivebyme

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wooyoungmybelovedhusband · 7 months

Text

ʕ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 3.00 "Qᴜɪᴛ?!" ʔ

ヾᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ : ᴄᴇᴏ! ᴘᴀʀᴋ ꜱᴇᴏɴɢʜᴡᴀ x ꜱᴇᴄʀᴇᴛᴀʀʏ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ヾꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ/ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ : ʜᴇʀᴇ

ヾᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ : ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴇɴᴛᴀʟʟʏ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ꜱʟᴀᴘ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱᴇʟꜰ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀʟʟ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱᴛᴜᴘɪᴅ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅɪᴅ ᴛᴏᴅᴀʏ.

ヾᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ : 875

«"Mr.Park what are you doing here? Is there anything you need?» Seonghwa clears his throat, after hearing your words as he regains his composure. «Ms.Hwang, may I know why you're here?» Your brows furrow at his words, not quite understanding the absurdity of his sentence. The corners of your lips twitch trying hard to keep your formal expression as you ask, «Mr.Park, I don't quite understand the context of your sentence, could you please elaborate?»

He clears his throat yet again, «The party hosted by Sumyung group will be starting at 8 o'clock tonight, I'd like for you to be prepared by 6 o'clock with the dress which will be delivered to your house two hours before.» Your left eye twitches in annoyance having your blind date spoiled by the man towering over you, «Mr.Park I think you've been mistaken, I have already appointed Song Hyunju's schedule to be your date for the party. And she has already chosen the dress for the party too.»

Seonghwa's eyebrows knit slightly, but he lets out a low sigh, «I am quite disappointed in you for making such a stupid situation, Ms.Hwang. I hope you know that she has quite the scandal with the CEO of Sumyung group, Lee Dohwan who wouldn't like seeing her as my date. I thought you did your research on the model's social interactions with the people of the Sumyung group.» Your lips tremble a little in shock, and you quickly pull out your phone to look through everything only to find out he was correct. ' "Famous Model Song Hyunju, the ex-girlfriend of Lee Dohwan, the CEO of Sumyung group, was found to have cheated on him, thus their break-up" Stated by Dispatch Korea.'

Fuck, I thought I had checked everything. You raise your head to let your eyes meet his, the same formal expression staying on your face. «I would like to apologise for my mishap, Mr.Park. I promise to not let this kind of mistake occur again, and I will be driving to your apartment at 6 o'clock instead to pick out your suit.» Seonghwa doesn't speak one more word before walking away after giving you a nod.

You let out a long sigh, as you walk your way towards your house. «All this for nothing?»

Just when you reach your house, you hear your phone ring. You walk inside and answer the call without checking the ID. «Y/n-ah didn't you say you'll be free today?» You instantly recognize your sister's voice, «Sadly no, Yeji.» You huff out a sigh but flinch when you hear your older brother Hyunjin's voice, «WHAT? BUT WE WERE GOING TO HAVE OUR SIBLING NIGHT TODAY.»

«Well we can't have that today because I will be having a 'be the stuck-up boss' date' day, today.» You let out all your pent-up frustration caused due to the man who sent you the very long tight-fitting shimmery red dress for you to wear tonight. «Seriously? What's wrong with that Asshole, didn't you ask for a leave?»

«Well, I did, I guess, but now I have to be his date because of a stupid mistake I made.» You look at time and squeak instantly, «Okay Yeji, Hyunjin, I'll call you guys later. I've got to go.»

By the time the clock struck 5:30 p.m, you were dressed in the beautiful red dress which was sent to you, and you had grabbed your purse as you got in your car.

Just as you reach his mansion, you step out of your car, preparing yourself as you take a deep breath before walking in.

You walk in to find no one in the house, no maid in sight, you frown to yourself before walking to his giant closet like you usually did. But your eyes bulged out at the sight, it was the Park Seonghwa, trying to fix his crooked tie. You swiftly snap out of your trance of thoughts, before walking towards him, «"Mr.Park, I'll fix it.»

You set your purse down on the wide glass table just a few metres away from his figure. Seonghwa doesn't flinch at your voice, and you just make your way towards him. You place your hands around the crooked tie, it was usual like any other day since the day you mastered fixing a tie. But you notice the way his breath gets caught in his throat, his Adam's apple bobs slightly.

Your eyes wander up to find his dark sharp eyes looking down at you. You swiftly lower your head back down, trying to ignore the way your cheeks heat up. You mentally slap yourself, but flinch when you hear, «"Are you done Ms.Hwang?"» You swiftly pull the bottom of the tie, fixing it completely before moving away.

«"Let's head to Mr.Park. It's getting late already."»

The whole ride to the party was too silent, but you manage to finally break the silence, «"Mr.Park I've been meaning to tell you this for a week. This may come off as a surprise to you, but I will be quitting."»

«"QUIT?!"»

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez imagines #ateez smut imagines #ateez hard hours #ateez x reader #ateez series #ceo! ateez #ceo! seonghwa #ceo!seonghwa #ceo!au #seonghwa imagines #park seonghwa #seonghwa #seonghwa series #park seonghwa imagines #park seonghwa series #ateez x reader series #seonghwa x reader series

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seonghwaddict · 2 months

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ateez fic recs!

🧸 lilo’s notes! here is a collection of works that i loved and thought everyone should read! works marked with a bear emoji are some of my favs. i’ll be updating the list, of course. this list contains both sfw and nsfw content, minors please interact accordingly.

hongjoong

he’s kinda hot — @ohmyamor

“After a decent run with your boyfriend, you finally decide to end it when his paranoia becomes too much. Except, maybe he wasn’t crazy. And now you have demon who refuses to leave you alone.”

demon!hongjoong, fem!reader, fluff, slight angst, please see content warning before reading, suggestive

lilo’s notes! i absolutely love demon!atz aus and i can testify that this is definitely one of my favs. everything about this was absolutely fantastic and i may or may not revisit it every few weeks

you’re hongjoong’s bias — @jnginlov

“when you and your group go on idol radio to promote your latest comeback, you don’t anticipate one of the hosts to be completely enraptured by you”

idol au, fluff, gn!reader

lilo’s notes! listen… idol aus are usually not my cup of tea (though several fics on here prove that wrong), but this is absolutely one of the cutest things i’ve read.

seonghwa

new horizons — @fivestar-outlaw

“Attempting an all-nighter while playing Animal Crossing alongside your bias, you didn't expect your turnip prices to be such a high amount... nor did you expect Park Seonghwa to actually accept your offer to sell his turnips on your island.”

completed series, FLUFF, idol!hwa x nonidol!fem!reader, nsfw

lilo’s notes! EEEEEEE THIS FIC IS SO CUTEEEEEE

🧸 honest (but happy) accident — @ad0rechuu

uni student!hwa, gn!reader, fluff, slice of life

lilo’s notes! y’all are gonna get so sick of me cuz you’re gonna see multiple of zero’s fics on here. jokes aside, this is genuinely so fucking cute i was rolling around and giggling while reading it.

🧸 12:25 time of love — @jaehunnyy

kindergarten teacher!hwa, mom!reader, meet cute, fluff

lilo’s notes! imagining seonghwa in a job like that genuinely makes me so soft. whenever i’m in that Emotional mood i like to read this.

🧸 impressionism — @hwaightme

“a post-graduate student specialising in impressionism, you were a regular visitor to the many art galleries in the city. who knew that among the paintings you would encounter your favourite, timeless work of art?”

vampire!gallerist!hwa x art historian!gn!reader, fluff, soulmates

lilo’s notes! as an art history nerd, this fic is so beautiful especially when combined with a vampire au like AHHHH some of my fav things in one fic

yunho

early hours — @honeyhotteoks

“you run into him in the hallway of the hotel, it's late and you're exhausted from the concert, but he thinks you should grab a drink and you can't help but agree”

idol!yunho x nonidol!fem!reader, one night stand, nsfw, some fluff

lilo’s notes! HDJSJDJSJKF the way this had me glued to my phone and giggling should be studied.

🧸 principia and opticks — @bro-atz

“you're struggling with a specific class that's required for your major; but, luckily, your professor, professor jeong, has no problem helping you out outside of class” // “you and professor jeong yunho decided to continue your relationship secretly, only to almost get caught one day”

professor!yunho x student!reader (legal), nsfw, fluff

lilo’s notes! don’t judge me but i think professor x student (COLLEGE. LEGAL.) is such a good trope it’s always gonna have me running laps around my room.

bottle service — @bro-atz

“all yunho wants to do is fuck the bottle girl's brains out.”

big dick!yunho x small!afab!reader, nsfw

lilo’s notes! i have nothing to say for myself other than size kinks are hot. even more so when it’s related to yunho

christmas dinner — @a1sh1teruu

“it didn't just end with one dinner.”

ceo!yunho x secretary!fem!reader, fluff

lilo’s recs! THIS WAS WRITTEN FOR ME AGHHHHHHHH i love it so much i think about it at least once a week

🧸 summer nights — @honeyhotteoks

“he's your best friend and roommate, but during the heat of summer and the confinement of quarantine, you just can't seem to help yourselves.”

roommate!yunho, nsfw, fluff

lilo’s notes! i reread this yesterday and realised there’s a sequel. TRUST i will be devouring that as soon as i can

track 3: cyber sex — @highvern

whipped loser!yunho x camgirl!reader, nsfw

lilo’s notes! STOPPIJDIDJ yunho was so cute and shy in this i wanted to scream into a pillow

yeosang

🧸 lessons in intimacy — @honeyhotteoks

“you didn’t mean to actually meet the man who’s audio porn was single handedly getting you off every night, but you do”

camboy!yeo, nsfw, fluff

lilo’s notes! absolute perfection this was so sjsjjcjsjd i could feel myself slowly losing my mind

evolve — @nebulousbrainsoup

“more often than not, a life lived in Night City is carefully crafted, slotted firmly between preapproved lines—or it is if you value keeping it. whispers of freedom float just beyond the city's neon lights, and it's only through a chance encounter with the most unlikely of characters that you finally start to hear them.”

biker!yeosang x fem!reader, fluff, nsfw, some angst

lilo’s notes! despite it being 12k words i gobbled it up in a single sitting which is crazy tbh, it didn’t feel that long at all and i was so invested

san

🧸 prelude in e minor — @bro-atz

“your brain tells you to focus on your education, but your heart tells you to focus on professor choi”

professor!san, CELLIST!san, nsfw, angst

lilo’s notes! back at it with the professor aus yupppp y’all know me so well. i felt so many emotions while reading this i thought i was gonna go insane.

mingi

🧸 slowly, i’m going down — @yutasbellybuttonpiercing

“mingi hates studying, but what he hates way more than that is being perceived as stupid. what mingi loves on the other hand, are pretty people getting flustered about his voice or mingi shows you exactly what he hates and loves.”

college au, tutor!reader, nsfw

lilo’s notes! not only was this written so well, but it was so fucking entertaining. mingi is just so silly in this i love it.

angel eyes — @binniesbang

“Yunho teases Mingi when he trips over his words infront of a girl, he needs a little loving to make it better:((“

coffee shop au, fluff, comfort

lilo’s notes! AHHHHHHHH sobbing crying screaming this was so cute and soft i love this mingi

🧸 untitled — @teasteeper

“kissing practice with your best friend mingi”

best friend!mingj x fem!reader, nsfw

lilo’s notes! GRRRSGHDJDJD OH MY GOD mingi you ain’t slick at all- anyways, my turn when?

wooyoung

ribbon — @wooyoungmybelovedhusband

“You just love Wooyoung's dick, and maybe you wanted to make it look pretty like it truly is.”

daddy!wooyoung, nsfw

lilo’s notes! they be fucking but somehow it’s so??? cute?? really enjoyed this one 10/10

spiderman! — @cherrysoojins

“being spider-man comes with a lot advantages, but those advantages can have their disadvantages. like jung wooyoung not being able to show up to study groups to be able to see the girl he’s crushing on big-time.”

spiderman!wooyoung, smau + written, fluff, angst, crack. ongoing(?) series, last updated: july 7th, 2023

lilo’s notes! this was actually such a cute and fun fic and i really wished there were more chapters :c

backstage rockin’ — @a1sh1teruu

“after a late night of practice with the band, and with you lounging in the background. when his friends finally left, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself any longer.”

bandmate!wooyoung, nsfw

lilo’s notes! i think this was THE fic that awakened my love for bassists, that’s how good it was. zerda’s writing always has me giggling

jung wooyoung’s superpower — @ad0rechuu

best friend!wooyoung, fluff fluff fluff

lilo’s notes! ik i’ve probably said this a lot but this is ACTUALLY one of the cutest fics i’ve ever read i adore it so much

🧸 i’m just bein’ curious — @teeskz

“in which your friend wooyoung invites you over for a movie night”

pervy best friend!woooyung, nsfw

lilo’s notes! it’s short but if i said this didnt awaken something in me, i’d be lying. i reread it this morning and that’s what made me start this rec list

jongho

🧸 adorable — @i-luvsang

frenemy!jongho, gn!reader one bed trope, fluff, comedy

lilo’s notes! AHHHHH I LOVE RIA’S WRITING SO SO SO MUCH fluff by ria is genuinely so djdjdjsjd it’s got me giggling

untitled — @nateezfics

nsfw, fluff

lilo’s notes! i’m sorry but idc if they’re going at it, it’s so cute and soft?? they’re just so silly

multi

🧸 milky way — @ad0rechuu

“It’s not everyday that your friends childhood friend turns out to be the girl that you literally have a fan account for, but for Seonghwa, San and Mingi it’s become a reality. being able to get close to your bias is great! even if she does have a raging crush on someone else…”

fanboys!hwasangi x idol!reader, smau + written, fluff, angst, suggestive, slow burn. completed series, 60 chapters + 3 different endings

lilo’s notes! i will never not be grateful that this series exists. it’s funny, cute, and angsty and i absolutely love it with my whole heart. i think it’s one of the first fics i read on tumblr, so it’s really special to me + i think this was part of the reason i got close to my lovely zero

🧸 blurred lines and lies — @yuyusuyu

the synopsis is really long

best friend!yeosang x fem!reader x best friend!jongho, love triangle, romance, slice of life, angst. completed series, 10 chapters + 2 different endings

lilo’s notes! words cannot describe how i felt reading this but i think it’s comparable to going through every stage of grief possible plus more. genuinely, one of the best fics i’ve ever read

strawberry mocha — @pirateprincessblog

“your favorite café has a new barista, and he seems oddly familiar, especially when you see his hands move when he prepares your favourite beverage”

barista!camboy!wooyoung x fem!reader, ft yunho, nsfw, angst

lilo’s notes! my thought process while reading was a cycle of “oh my god” and “what the fuck” in the BEST way possible. the writing is so good i wanted to reach through the screen a smack some characters, and hug some others

clair de lune — @atzfilm

“you’ve finally gotten the chance to enter “clair de lune”, a infamous night club to see the band hiraeth. but why did you feel like their eyes only watched you?”

yandere!ot8 x fem!reader, angst, fluff, nsfw. completed series, 8 chapters.

lilo’s notes! so iconic. if you haven’t read this, you better and that’s a threat.

murphy’s law — @atzfilm

“according to murphy’s law, everything that can go wrong will go wrong. Black holes circle each other until they collide and merge, a cataclysm so fierce, sends ripples soaring through the fabric, crossing thousands of kilometers within a fraction of a second, leaving behind a wave on the space-time continuum. That’s the simplest way you can describe meeting him. And yet, even that is an understatement.”

alien!ot8, multi x fem!reader (not ot8), soulmate au, fluff, angst, nsfw, check other warnings. completed series, 5 chapters.

lilo’s notes! another iconic fic by an iconic writer, we love to see it

mists of celeste — @hongism

“Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you.”

space pirate!ateez, multiple pairings, angst, fluff, nsfw, check other warnings. ongoing series, 49 chapters + additional content

lilo’s notes! i’m pretty sure everyone on tumblr who reads atz fics has seen this one at some point and it definitely deserves its hype. this is probably one of the best, well thought-out fics i’ve ever read and i believe it can definitely be considered better than many published books

🧸 hotel california and paradise gardens — @mint-yooxgi

“You can check out any time you’d like, but you can never leave.” // “Eternity means nothing if I don’t have you.”

yandere!demon!ot8 x fem!reader, horror, fluff, angst, nsfw, check other warnings. complete fic, 42 chapters combined

lilo’s notes! yeah i reread this every few months and i’m not ashamed to admit i’m obsessed with it.

outlaw miniseries — @hongism

individual parts for each member/unit, nsfw with a side of fluff and angst. ongoing series, 4/6 chapters

lilo’s notes! hi no i won’t shut up about hongism i think ive read everything she’s published and if i didn’t want to make this list diverse i would’ve just put a link to her masterlist and called it a day. seriously, highly recommended. my fav on this is the 2ho one.

from storm to sunrise — @ad0rechuu

“you and your boyfriend yunho wake up to find your other boyfriend mingi no where to be found”

fem!reader x bfs!yuyu and mingi, fluff, mild angst

lilo’s notes! zero try not to write something i’ll fall in love challenge, go! oh no you already failed because everything by user ad0rechuu is a masterpiece

🧸 hooked — @songmingisthighs

“A freshman hookup rekindled into something new. With an incentive, of course. But what would happen if your ‘relationship’ led you somewhere you never thought would happen to you?”

ot8 x fem!reader, smau + written, college au, fluff, crack, nsfw. completed series, 91 chapters

lilo’s notes! this is also one of the first fics i read on tumblr!! it’s definitely one of my all-time favs and it’s just such a fun read

🧸 unconventional first encounters with ateez — @bluehwale

ot8 headcanon, fluff, humour

lilo’s notes! i also reread this occasionally, the humour tag really is accurate

hongwooho — @yourfatherlucifer

idols!hongjoong, wooyoung, jongho x fem!reader, nsfw

lilo’s notes! the first time i read this (and all the times after that) i was giggling and rolling around on my bed. this kind if scenario is something i’d LOVE LOVE LOVE to see more of

sway with me — @luvt0kki

“former noble turned space pirate, wooyoung was now part of one of the most revered and hunted group of pirates of the galaxy. sure he’s only known them for six months but there’s only so much you could do in a ship when you travel from one planet to the next. the ship was their home, his home… and the members of this crew were friends that he felt he was fated to meet. // but he hasn’t met one person of the crew… and he didn’t know that.”

ot8 x fem!reader, space pirate au, nsfw, fluff. ongoing series, 5/?? chapters + 1 interlude

lilo’s notes! i gobbled the posted chapters up in a single sitting and it was honestly sososo good 10/10 recommend. i can definitely see this being added to my favs as soon as it’s done!

🧸 ¡arriba! — @teeskz

“being a bookworm, you’re used to your regular schedule of simply studying, eating, oh, and the occasional sleeping. it isn’t until one night, you find yourself at the wrong place at the wrong time, and soon get swept up in one of the craziest games you’ve ever heard. in hindsight, maybe you should’ve declined. but it was only supposed to last for one night. one, dirty night.”

hongjoong, yunho, san, mingi, wooyoung x fem!reader, college au, nsfw, part of a series (“T!TS UP”)

lilo’s notes! NO YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND I WAS GAGGEDDDDDD the way i had to pause multiple times to cool off while reading this it was so hot and something i didn’t know i needed in my life until i found it

#ꔫ — › LILO’S REC LIST

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jeon-ify · 27 days

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JEONIFY’s KINKTOBER 2024 MASTERLIST

hi pretties :3 i’m participating in KINKTOBER 2024! i’m preparing way ahead of time because i know i wont have 31 smuts written in the span of a month. i’ll write out my masterlist in order and i hope you’re all looking forward to them !! :) all of these smuts are going to be female reader! if you have any requests, leave them under this post and i’ll definitely add them to the list for the month of october!

please be aware that all of these are NSFW— meaning that all of these works will not be suitable for audiences under the age of 18. trigger warnings include sexual content, mentions of r!pe, su!c!de, smoking, vi0lence, drug use, criminal activity, swearing, etc.

JEON-IFY’s KINKTOBER 2024 MASTERLIST

1. CRY FOR ME - CHOI SAN (dacryphilia | hard!dom san)

2. YOUR EYES - JEONG YUNHO (soft!dom fairy yunho)

3. INTO IT - SONG MINGI (toxic-ex!mingi)

4. TOO MUCH - KANG YEOSANG (mean!yeosang)

5. IN YOUR MOUTH - JUNG WOOYOUNG (throat fucking/dom!wy)

6. PSYCHO BEHAVIOR - KIM HONGJOONG (masked man hj)

7. INMATE 1117 - SONG MINGI (prisoner mingi x psychiatric reader)

8. SLOW DOWN - CHOI JONGHO (masked biker!jongho)

9. I DARE YOU - CHOI JONGHO (mafia leader!jongho)

10. RUN BABY, RUN - PARK SEONGHWA (stalker!seonghwa : based on HAUNTING ADELINE by H.D. CARLTON)

11. CAT GOT YOUR TONGUE? - KANG YEOSANG (dom!reader x sub!yeosang)

12. PACKAGE DEAL - WOOSANGI (mean!dom wy, san, mingi x reader)

13. LIKE YOU’VE SEEN A GHOST - JUNG WOOYOUNG (masked dom!wooyoung x reader)

14. TWIN BITCHES - JEONG YUNHO X SONG MINGI X READER (dom!yungi x sub!reader | CNC)

15. MASK ON, MASK OFF - CHOI SAN (psycho!san x it girl reader)

16. DIFFERENCES - KANG YEOSANG (vampire!yeosang x witch!reader)

17. THERE IT IS - CHOI JONGHO (sub!jongho x dom!femreader)

18. SILVER LIGHT - JUNG WOOYOUNG (dom!wooyoung x sub!san x sub!reader)

19. UNTIL THE BREAK OF DAWN - MINGI X SEONGHWA X YUNHO (dom!seonghwa, dom!mingi, dom!yunho x switch!vampire reader)

20. TWIN SEATER - KIM HONGJOONG (dom!sugardaddy hj x streetracer reader)

21. SHAKE SOME - MATZ (stripper reader x mean!dom matz)

22. LIKE CANDY - PARK SEONGHWA (switch!hwa x switch!reader)

23. MIDNIGHT PSYCHO - KANG YEOSANG (inmate!yeosang x therapist reader)

24. BE THE LIGHT - PARK SEONGHWA (dom!ghost hwa x sub reader)

25. FACELESS - KIM HONGJOONG (faceless man in a dream becomes a reality / dom!hongjoong)

26. I LUV THIS SHIT - SONG MINGI (public sex w/ mingi at a halloween party! x dom!mingi)

27. DADDY LONG LEGS - JEONG YUNHO (dom!reader x spellcaster!yunho)

28. TOKYO DRIFT - CHOI SAN (drag racer!san x schoolgirl reader)

29. SPREAD OUT - OT8 (gang!ateez x pharmacist!reader)

30. PULL ON IT - OT8 (ateez hosts a halloween frat party!)

31. SEX AINT THE ONLY THING ON MY MIND - OT8 (stripper!reader x rich ceos atz)

#kpop smut #ateez #kpop #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez san #mingi ateez #yunho ateez #ateez wooyoung #jongho ateez #yeosang ateez #seonghwa ateez #hongjoong ateez

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bro-atz · 2 months

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forbidden love [trope — san]

inspired by: love 365 — video game

pair: ceo!san/afab!reader

word count: 3.4k

content: smut, angst, forbidden love, age gap, allusions to office sex, hotel sex, pretty vanilla which considering san it shouldn't be, completely consensual!

author's note: also inspired by the other san req. i got for the 500 event bc ceo!san is just something i cannot resist writing

trope masterlist

“Honey, you remember Mr. Choi, right?” your father asked you.

“Uh, the CEO, right?”

“Yeah. Don’t you remember playing with his little girls in the neighborhood growing up?”

“Oh! Mr. Choi San! Right.”

“Who did you think I was talking about?”

“The other one you introduced me to— the one with the incredible voice who chose pharmaceuticals over singing.”

Your father laughed heartily. You watched him with a bemused smile as he cracked up for much longer than he should’ve been laughing in the first place. Finally, he calmed down and continued, “No, not Jongho. San, yes. So, anyway, he and I were talking about your inability to get a job—”

“Great, now you’re just broadcasting it to the entire goddamn neighborhood. Dad, I said I’m trying to get in my friend’s company—”

“You’ve been saying that for months. San said he could get you a job right now, and you’re going to take it, got it?” your father interrupted.

“Come on! I want to work in the entertainment industry, not for—”

“Not another word. Look, I invited San to meet us here, and he’s going to offer you the job in front of me, and you’re going to take it, got it?”

You pouted and crossed your arms over your chest. Arguing with the man was next to impossible at this point, so you had no choice but to just listen. You sat and stewed in angry silence until the man of the hour showed up. He seemed to glide into the coffee shop while oozing charisma and intensity, making your heart nearly leap out of your chest. It had been a while since you had seen San, and the last time you could properly recollect him was at your high school graduation.

You always thought the man was attractive, but seeing him wearing a three piece suit and glasses with his hair slicked back instead of his usual attire of jeans and a t-shirt (not that he looked bad in that either) was definitely a sight to behold. You couldn’t help but hold your breath as he walked right up to you and your father, the man immediately greeting his friend first.

“Seonghwa, it’s been so long,” San said as the two went for a brief hug.

“I saw you last week at the pickle ball game, shut up,” Seonghwa rolled his eyes. “You remember my daughter, right?”

“Of course,” San smiled kindly at you as soon as he laid his eyes on you. “Hi, Y/N.”

“H-hi, Mr. Choi,” you responded weakly.

You held out your hand for him to shake, only to immediately be met by a frown. “Come on, Y/N. We’ve known each other far too long for that.”

Before you could even react, San pulled you in for a hug. You fully stopped breathing again when you felt his firm arms around you, and you nearly gasped for air when he let you go.

The three of you sat down and talked logistics. San needed a new receptionist, and it was decided you would work as his receptionist until you managed to secure the job at your friend’s company, and there were more logistics worked into the conversation, but the only thing you could think about was how you were going to pressure your friend to get you a job at their company faster because there was no way in hell you were going to last at Mr. Choi San’s company.

“I-I thought I was to be your receptionist?” you asked San with complete shock upon reviewing the paperwork in his office.

“You are, though.”

“B-but this seems more like secretarial work…?”

“The term secretary seems to be a little demeaning nowadays. How about office assistant for the title, then?”

“Am I helping you or the office?”

“Executive assistant.”

“I-I… I don’t know…”

“Y/N,” San sighed. “We both know that your father is going to kill you if you don’t take this job, so call yourself whatever you want, but this is what’s going to be expected of you here since this is the only position we need to fill. Sorry, but that’s the deal.”

“Alright, Mr. Choi…” you reluctantly accepted your fate and started signing your name on the documents.

After submitting the documents to him, you made your way out of his office and went to your station, your mind reeling with thoughts. You wondered if you could get out of the job by messing up every single thing that came your way, but if you did, your father would have your head. That, but you also did not want to mess up the relationship between your father and the man you were working for, so you just settled for putting even more pressure on your friend to get you the hell out of this job.

Your friend did not pull through. It had been six months, and your friend had yet to hold up their end of the bargain, but honestly, you weren’t complaining. You found yourself having fun working for San. He was very understanding and patient, which surprised you given how he used to yell at your friends to get their ass in the house to finish their homework when you all were growing up.

Those little anecdotes, however, slowly started to seep out of your mind. You had to do your best to remember these memories because, honestly, you were starting to forget who San was in your life. He was slowly morphing from the neighbor kids’ dad to the incredibly sexy man you reported to on a daily basis.

While you were insanely attracted to the man, you still made sure to do your job well. This meant that if San texted you at two in the morning on Sunday, you responded to him. This meant that if he needed you to stay and work overtime with him, you did it. This meant that if he asked you to run personal errands with him, you went with him.

“Y/N, can you come here for a second?” San asked you one day at work.

“What is it?”

“Smell this.”

San opened his suit jacket and gestured for you to come closer, which you did so very cautiously. You took a light sniff of his jacket from about a foot away and said, “Good.”

“Really? You smelled it from all the way there?” San was skeptical. “Seriously, I need to know. Can you actually smell it properly, please?”

Your brain told you to refuse, but your hormones, which were already swimming because you could actually smell how amazing his cologne was from that foot distance, said otherwise. You shifted closer and sniffed again while getting a good whiff this time. You felt your face heat up slightly as you nodded and said quietly, “It smells good, Mr. Choi.”

“Must you call me Mr. Choi?” San sighed as he adjusted his jacket. “It’s very stifling.”

“Mr. Choi, you’re my boss. I’m going to be respectful.”

“And for that, I thank you, but sometimes, I seriously hate when you call me Mr. Choi.”

“Why is that?”

“It’s… Stifling.”

You blinked and looked the man right in the eye. “You already said that. Is everything okay?”

San let out a light sigh before shaking his head. “It’s fine. I’d just rather hear you call me by my name.”

There was a brief moment of silence between the two of you, and when San looked at you again, your heart fluttered rapidly. There was something unspoken in his gaze that made you want to find out more, and if it weren’t for his cologne, you probably would’ve let it go.

“What do you mean?”

“I… Never mind. Just let it go. Anyway, can you look over this report for me?”

San gestured for you to approach closer, which you did, and soon, you were leaning over his shoulder and reading the report on his computer screen. You got more and more of the notes of his cologne, the pine and the musk seeping into your brain and deleting all the logic in it. It deleted so much of your common sense that you found yourself leaning so far over his shoulder that your breasts pressed against it, turning you on even more just feeling how firm his broad back was.

“It looks good. I would just change a couple of sentences.”

“Which ones?”

Pushing further into him, you moved so that you were right against him as you moved his mouse and clicked around before reaching over and typing on his keyboard. The more intimate your actions became, the more the tiniest bit of your rational brain left screamed at you to stop, but you didn’t want to, and you couldn’t when San placed his hand over yours, his hand engulfing yours and the mouse.

“I see. Thank you, Y/N.”

“You’re welcome, San…”

You should’ve moved. You shouldn’t have been that close to him in the first place. You should’ve stopped either yourself or him, but it was too late. When he reached for your cheek with his other hand, you could’ve moved away; but instead, you moved into his touch— his warm, gentle touch.

“Tell me to stop,” San breathed out as he brought your face to his.

You didn’t dare tell him to stop. He pressed his lips gently against yours at first before pulling back to gauge your reaction. But, you didn’t want him to stop. You wanted to feel the warmth of his lips seep into yours, his hold on your face to slip from your cheek to your neck, then maybe down your shoulder, hips, and to your waist. And, like a mind reader, he did just that. He kissed you once more, this time with more force and passion. His hands moved so that he brought you onto his lap, one hand on the back of your neck and the other on your waist as he kissed you ferociously.

“Fuck,” San breathed out in between kisses. “Please don’t tell me to stop now, beautiful.”

There was no way in hell you were going to tell him to stop now.

“Gosh, you’re so pretty,” San uttered as he brushed your hair out of your face. “Don’t stop moaning for me, beautiful.”

Your relationship with the CEO got very complicated to say the least. After that day in his office, the two of you simply could not keep your hands away from each other. You loved it when he held you close to him and made you feel like the most special girl in the world, and he loved it when you sank into his embrace, your body begging for more than a simple hug. So, frequently, after work, you found yourself spending restless night after restless night in San’s hotel suite.

“San— Ah!” you moaned loudly when he pushed his face under your jawline and left sweet, painful kisses behind your ear. “I want you… Please…”

“What do you want, beautiful?” San asked, his hands trailing down your body before hooking into the waistband of your skirt and panties and pulling down. “Do you want my fingers to fill you up?”

Two of his fingers stroked the lips of your quivering pussy lightly, making you cling to his shoulders. While one hand worked on making you wetter, the other pushed your shirt up and went under your bra, his thumb tracing circles over your nipple.

“Or do you want me to toy with your nipples and pinch them until they turn purple?”

“I want you in me,” you whined. “Don’t tease me… Please…”

You watched San’s face go a light shade of pink as he heard you whine and beg. Quickly withdrawing his hands, San got straight to work, his clothes falling to the ground rapidly. “Of course, beautiful. Anything for you.”

As San tore open a condom packet and rolled it on his throbbing, fat cock, you got out of your own clothes and tossed them aside, your arms outstretched for him as soon as the two of you were ready. San fit himself into your perfect embrace and rubbed his cockhead along your folds and against your sensitive clit a couple times before pushing into you. You moaned loudly and brought San further into your embrace as you clung to him, your body still not used to his massive size.

“Fuck, darling, you’re so tight,” San groaned in your ear as he dropped his head down. “I’m going to start moving, okay?”

You could only muster a nod in response. The second San started moving, you dug your fingernails into his skin and held him tightly, your cunt tightening further as you brought your legs around his waist. Your heart and pussy clenched when you heard his labored groans rip through your body.

“Shit, it’s like you’re trying to break my dick off,” San hissed as he rammed his cock further into you.

“San,” you breathed his name out, unable to conjure up more words as your brain was turning to mush with every harsh thrust.

You ran your fingers through his hair and grabbed his head, weakly guiding him to your lips, which he consumed in a heartbeat. Saliva dripped down your mouth as you dropped it open, allowing the man complete access to let his tongue violate your own. His thrusts didn’t let up in the slightest as he made out with you messily, his own hands squeezing and groping all of the parts of your body he desired.

“Mmm— Ah! S-San,” your voice trembled as wave upon wave of pleasure rushed through your body. “C-cum— Hnngh!”

You flung your head back into the plush pillows of the hotel suite bed and cried loudly as you felt pleasure wrack your body, your thighs and hips trembling as you came hard, your arousal fluid squirting all over the sheets.

The erotic noises of San’s cock driving in and out of you with your fluid adding squelches was too much for the man himself to bare. Pushing your hips up, San hammered into you at a fresh angle, making you cum one more time as he buried his cock deep within you. With a final, lingering grasp, San shoved himself all the way inside you, the head of his dick hitting your cervix, allowing the two of you to cum with bed trembling moans and groans. San’s cum spurt into the condom and nearly burnt a hole within you with how hot his load was.

“Fucking hell,” San hissed under his breath as the high of his own orgasm wore off. “Darling, that was so fucking good. You’re so fucking good. You’re too good to me…”

San let out a blissful exhale and kissed you lightly over and over again as his searing hot cock remained inside you, the heat from the man’s body revving your engine up all over again. But, that moment quickly faded when you heard his phone ring. With a groan of disappointment, San forcibly detached himself from you to answer the call.

“What does she want now?” you heard San utter to himself as he fully got out of the bed to answer the call.

You combed out your hair with your fingers and struggled to sit yourself up. Wrapping yourself in the duvet, your eyes warily tracked San as he paced the hotel room slowly.

“I don’t understand why you’re having such a hard time signing these papers… It’s been five years. Stop dragging your feet.”

It was his wife. His wife. The woman you came to respect as you grew up. The woman who was the mother of your friends. The woman who was still married to the man you were sleeping with. San’s fucking wife.

“San, we can work this through. We’ve done it so many times in the past. Please, think about your daughters.”

Each word ripped through your heart. Here you were laying in a hotel bed with the father of your friends while his wife, the mother of your friends, was trying to repair their broken relationship. A bad feeling settled in your gut as you thought back to the happy memories of your friends and their family.

“They’re grown women. I’m sure they’re just as sick and tired of all of this as I am. Sign the papers.”

“San, please.”

“Sign the goddamn papers. I have to go. Don’t call me again unless you’ve done so.”

With that, San hung up; and although the conversation had ended, the terrible feeling plaguing your heart did not.

“What’s wrong, beautiful?” San asked as he laid eyes on your consternated face.

“San, you’re still married,” you whispered out.

“That relationship ended years ago, Y/N,” San said with a heavy sigh. “Please don’t look at me like that. Don’t be alarmed.”

“How can I not be alarmed, S—”

Before you could finish your thought, San sat down on the bed and cut you off with a kiss— a telling kiss, a kiss that showed you just how much you meant to him.

“I said don’t be. You trust me, right?” San asked with his low, reassuring voice and that lingering hand that cupped your cheek just right. “Don’t think about it. It’s done. It’s been done. I… I love you, now.”

You wanted to cry. Tears brimmed your eyes as you heard the words leave his mouth. The feelings you tried denying yourself were coming to surface, but you knew that you should not let them surface at all. Not like this. Not when you were coming in between a family.

“I… I know, San,” you responded lamely.

It certainly did not help when he wrapped those big, strong arms— the arms you fell in love with— around you. You remained limp in his arms as San did his best to show you exactly how much you meant to him, but that didn’t change the fact that what you were doing was seriously wrong and that it needed to end before anyone else got hurt.

San didn’t know what happened or where he went wrong. The only thing he knew for sure was that your resignation letter was on his desk. You didn’t say anything in that letter other than that you were leaving. No reason as to why or how— you were simply leaving. However, San was having none of that.

He raced to your house. He broke many laws doing so, but, God, he needed to see you. He needed to know what went wrong, and he needed to know as soon as possible since his messages to you weren’t delivering, his calls weren’t going through, and even his emails were getting bounced back.

When San knocked on your door, though, he did not expect to see your father, and he did not expect to see the man so angry.

“You have some fucking nerve showing up here, you asshole,” Seonghwa spat out.

“Seonghwa, what’s—”

“Who the fuck do you fucking think you are, Choi San?! You fucking psychopath!”

“What are you going on about?”

“You slept with my daughter! What on fucking Earth is wrong with you!” Seonghwa screeched, his voice nearly echoing in the silent streets of the neighborhood.

San’s blood ran cold. Sure, in the back of his mind, there was a constant reminder that you were the daughter of his friend, the friend of his daughters, the girl he watched grow up right before his very eyes, but none of that actually registered until Seonghwa berated him.

“You fucked my fucking daughter, Choi San!” Seonghwa yelled at the man. “Stay the fuck away from me and my family you, you fucking disgusting human being! How fucking dare you lay a finger on her like that when I trusted you!”

“Seonghwa, you don’t understand! We—”

“I don’t give a fuck! I heard it from my daughter, and I certainly don’t need to hear it from you, San! I recommend you stay the fuck away from me and her, otherwise I’m going to slap your ass with a lawsuit you piece of shit!”

Seonghwa slammed the door in his face. San, motionless, stayed on the front porch with his head bent down in shame not because Seonghwa yelled at him, but because he did the unthinkable— he fell in love with you. You, his best friend’s daughter. You, the woman he never should have gotten intimate with. You.

You watched him from the window in your bedroom as he let out a sigh and retreated to his car, and you continued to watch him as he sat in his car and held his head with one hand and his chest with the other. You couldn’t see his face, but you could tell.

He was crying too.

trope masterlist

trope taglist: @eyeryis @sinnarols @k-hotchoisan @aaasia111 @sunshineangel-reads @hwallazia @dazzlingstarrs @hyukssunflower @yunhogrippers @oreoqueen

network: @cromernet

apply for the taglist here!

#ateez #choi san #san smut #san x reader #ateez san #choi san ateez #san ateez #choi san smut #broatz #trope ateez #trope series #ateez smut #ateez angst #san angst #choi san angst #cromernet

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atinycafe · 10 months

Text

COMMON MASTERLIST — ateez blurbs

collection of my blurbs under the cut ٩(๑ `︿´๑)۶

multiple members

- longing for your owners!ot8!ateez, who had left hybrid!you alone at home, you reach for the phone seeking comfort. - hyungline!ateez headcanons about the first time u meet them - atz headcanons about reader being unusually silent when drunk - atz headcanons about reader hugging a pillow 2 sleep - atz headcanons about making out with them on a chase atlantic beat - atz headcanons on them using "tiny" during sex [nsfw]

ddeonghwa

- biker!seonghwa vs bimbo!reader [suggestive] - bf!yunhwa help you in this heat (yunho acc doesn't help)

joongi

- a long-awaited reunion in hongjoong's creative studio leads to soft moment - hurt 2 comfort with hongjoong [light angst] - hongjoong and your first subdrop [nsfw] - shopping spree with dilf!woojoong - primal play with predator!joong [nsfw] - soft sex w joong [nsfw]

yunni

- during a late-night math session, you're visited by spiderman!yunho - bf!yunhwa help you in this heat (yunho acc doesn't help) - yunho fucks your nightmare away [nsfw] - choking kink w yunho [nsfw] - some boxer!yunho timestamps

hehetmon

- you admit something to vampire!yeosang [suggestive] - prince!yeosang rubs oil in your hair (cuz he loves brown girls) - yeosang and his oral fixation aka he loves boobies [nsfw]

sanni

- babying and doing san's eyebrows - ceo!san leaves u alone in ur bed 4 a meeting - sangi taking care of sick you - phone sex with daddy!san [nsfw] - pregnant reader faints [slight angst] - emperor!san x empress!reader

mangi

- mingi taking care of drunk you - sangi taking care of sick you (i have a thing 4 mingi taking care of me and i think it shows) - roommate!mingi is a big pervert [nsfw]

wooyo

- wooyoung playfully interrupts your asmr session, expressing his jealousy in a dramatic yet affectionate manner. - hybrid!wooyo plays a little game with you in your bathtub [nsfw] - overstimulation w meandom!woo [nsfw] - shopping spree with dilf!woojoong - zombie au

jjong

- exbf!jongho misses u but u... miss him too? - jongho teases u

other works can be found here

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starlitmark · 9 months

Text

♔ yes, I got roped into this event hosted by @wooyoungmybelovedhusband and @taehyungisminee

♔ I’ll be posting one fic a week for this series on Tuesdays at 9pm EST! Please enjoy!

♔ all details about the planned fics are below the cut <3

♔ August 1st ♔ dilf!Seonghwa x nanny!reader ♔ is it so bad that Seonghwa wants to give his daughter a little sibling? ♔ forbidden romance trope ♔ word count: 911

𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊

♔ August 8th ♔ alien!Jongho x human fem!reader ♔ you should be scared of this tentacle alien but you're too far gone in pleasure to care. ♔ supernatural (alien) au ♔ word count: 2,532

𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊

♔ August 15th ♔ Hongjoong x fem!reader ♔ no one knows just how powerful a pretty little trophy wife can be. ♔ established relationship trope, ceo trope, trophy wife trope ♔ word count: 778

𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊

♔ August 22nd ♔ brother's best friend!Yunho x fem!reader ♔ maybe you shouldn't have pushed his buttons this badly... ♔ brother's best friend trope ♔ word count: 1,408

𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊

#ateez smut #arousal august #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #seonghwa smut #hongjoong smut #yunho smut #jongho smut

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