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bro-atz · 3 months

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betrayal [trope — mingi]

inspired by: shut up flower boy band — kdrama + this post

pair: rockstar!mingi/afab!reader

word count: 4.5k

content: angst, smut, heartbreak, mingi looks like he could kill you but is the sweetest cinnamon roll, (can you believe mingi is the betrayer gasp), reference to past drug use, drinking, smoking, violence, mingi gets beat up, (seonghwa's kind of a dick... and lowkey like a disney villain whoops), safe sex, car sex, bedroom sex, hand kink, tattoo kink, consensual sex

author's note: i actually had a completely different idea in mind, but then @byuntrash101 posted this and i immediately had a much better idea for the series so thank you for the inspiration love 💕 also someone for the love of god tell me how to stop turning drabbles into novellas thx

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Mingi flung his head back and sighed loudly in the dressing room as he stood before the vanity. He felt your presence behind him and immediately spun around, his shaggy hair covering the sadness in his eyes. You took a hesitant step towards him before he lashed out.

“What are you doing here?” Mingi spat out.

You winced. Sure, Mingi looked like he could kill someone, but in the time you knew him, he was the sweetest fucking cinnamon roll.

“I c-came to support you and the boys,” you murmured— it was the truth. You just wanted to support the band you had come to love, but honestly, you also wanted to see Mingi because you missed him. You missed him so fucking much.

“I told you to never let me see you again, Y/N. What is so fucking hard to understand about that?” Mingi huffed and ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up further.

“But why?” your voice wavered, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes. Tears actually did spill out of your eyes when you cried, “Why are you doing this? Can you tell me what I did wrong? Please? You break up with me over a phone call and tell me you want nothing to do with me, but you never said why!”

Mingi flinched. He hated seeing you cry, and he desperately wanted to just hug you and dry your tears, but he couldn’t. He had to stay away from you, and he couldn’t figure out a way to keep you away without just telling you to stay away. He wasn’t one to cheat or to move on so easily— hell, he had been performing for years, and it took him years to find someone like you, someone who could make everything go away, someone he could actually fall in love with— so he couldn’t bring himself to lie to you. He just needed you to trust him and to just stay away.

“Just get out of my face. Don’t ever come near me again,” Mingi bit out.

He didn’t even brush past you on his way out. He completely avoided you. You fell to your knees and cried as the curtains to the room swished upon his departure.

Before he could even get two steps away from the dressing room, Mingi ran into the one person he did not want to run into.

“Dude, I did what you fucking asked, okay?” he held his hands up and took a step away from him. “I didn’t do shit.”

“I know. I just came to collect,” he responded. “We’ll be out of your hair.”

Mingi nodded and quickly got away before the conversation could persist. He left the venue and slammed the door on his way out. He wanted to just run away into the night, but it was pouring. Of course it was raining. He settled for leaning against the side of the establishment and fishing his carton of cigarettes and his favorite lighter out of his back pocket. He lit one up and took a deep drag before the pain in his heart started to subside.

“I thought I’d find you here,” Mingi heard the bassist’s voice behind him.

“Not now, Yeosang,” Mingi murmured.

“No, dude. Spit it out. One day, Y/N was the love of your life, and the next you’re screaming at her to leave you alone? Nothing’s adding up,” Yeosang pushed further.

“Yeah, we’ll only be able to help you if you tell us what’s going on,” the keyboardist, Yunho, added.

Mingi found himself boxed in by the members of his band and let out his twentieth deep sigh of the day. “Fine,” Mingi mumbled as he took another drag from his cigarette. “But after I tell you guys, I don’t want to hear another word of it. I don’t want to hear her name ever again, got it?”

The men nodded, allowing Mingi to finally reveal what had happened between the two of you.

“Hey, who was that preppy chick in the front row?” the red-headed drummer asked his fellow bandmates.

“Beats me, dude,” Yunho shrugged. “She definitely doesn’t belong here, though.”

“Yeah, she’s like super preppy and shit,” the guitarist giggled.

“Isn’t that your type though, Wooyoung?” the drummer pointed out.

“…Shut up, San,” Wooyoung grumbled.

“It is weird, though. I’ve seen her so many times at our concerts. Is she one of our groupies?” Yeosang asked.

“Are groupies even a thing anymore?” Mingi furrowed his eyebrows.

“She’s definitely not a drug dealer from the looks of her,” San mused out loud.

“Okay, that was one time, and she seemed excited to be considered a groupie. I wasn’t talking to her because she sold— and I’m not about that shit! I haven’t done any more since I met you guys!”

“Mingi! Chill, that’s not what he was talking about!” Yunho grabbed Mingi’s shoulder to calm him down before he could throw a tantrum. “Besides, you almost went to jail. We know you don’t do drugs, so you don’t gotta get all defensive on us.”

“Yeah, okay, fine,” Mingi reclaimed his shoulder and adjusted his sweater before plopping to the ground.

“Anyway, that preppy girl— how many shows has she been at now?”

“Eight,” Yeosang answered immediately, only for four pairs of eyes to shoot directly to him and widen. “Not that I’ve been counting! …I’m just observant guys.”

“”Observant”,” Wooyoung mocked.

Before Yeosang could get up to slap the giggling guitarist silly, there was a knock on the dressing room door. Mingi got up and answered the door to see one of the stage managers standing there, a look of irritation on their face.

“Yes?”

“I thought we said you weren’t allowed to give anyone backstage access,” the stage manager said with disgust.

“We didn’t though?”

“Uh, actually…” San interjected and slowly raised his hand, the other four bandmates immediately groaning and yelling at the boy.

“Come on, man— We just talked about this!”

“You seriously suck.”

“That email was literally sent for you, San!”

“Sorry, sorry! I’ll handle it!” San held his hands up and scurried out of the room.

“Someone go with him to make sure he isn’t going to do stupid shit,” Yunho sighed while rolling his eyes.

“On it,” Mingi grumbled.

Leaving the other three to apologize profusely to the stage manager, Mingi left in pursuit of San. He got into the lobby of the venue and saw San with his arm already around the waist of the girl he had invited back to the dressing room— that bastard. Mingi made a mad dash for them, only to turn the corner and nearly crash into you, the preppy girl that looked like she didn’t belong at a rock concert, the preppy girl that Wooyoung (and also maybe Yeosang) had a tiny crush on. Well, he nearly crashed into you, but that didn’t stop you from tripping over your own two feet and falling back on your butt.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry,” Mingi apologized as he held out a hand to help you up.

“Can you—” you were about to tell the tall figure off, only to see his face and recognize him as the lead vocalist of your current favorite band: IT’S YOU(TH). “— sign my bra?”

You immediately clapped your hands over your mouth, your face burning red from sheer embarrassment. Mingi couldn’t help but laugh— so many girls had asked him to sign their bras in the past, but no one was ever shy about it, so your reaction to the words flying out of your mouth was honestly hysterical.

“I mean, I can if you want,” Mingi replied, a chuckle still lingering in his voice.

“R-really?” you squeaked.

One signed bra, eleven concerts, sixteen dates, and eighty-eight days later, Mingi was absolutely in love with you. Of course, he would never admit it first, but everyone in IT’S YOU(TH)— and honestly the whole damn world— could tell that the lead vocalist and guitarist of the young up-and-coming rock band was head-in-the-clouds, rose-tinted-glasses, cupid-shot-an-arrow-through-his-soul in love.

“Okay, Miss Astronomer, what am I looking at?” Mingi whispered to you, his lips dangerously near your ear.

IT’S YOU(TH) just finished their set for the night, and Mingi had promised you that he would be right by your side as soon as the concert ended. The two of you had driven way out of the city to the local rural area and laid in the wheat fields while staring up at the night sky. You had promised Mingi a night under the stars when he found out you spent four years of further education to study astronomy and physics, and you were finally delivering on that promise.

“So, that right there?” you whispered back as you started your astronomy lesson. “That’s you.”

“What?”

“That’s the Leo constellation,” you giggled— Mingi wasn’t really one for astrology.

“Oh, I get it,” Mingi responded with a half-hearted laugh, then genuinely asked, “But where is it?”

“Right there,” you responded as you traced the sky.

“Where?”

“Here,” you reached for Mingi’s hand and held it so that his pointer finger would be out. You then brought his hand to the sky and traced it for him with his hand. “Right… There…”

Mingi shifted ever so slightly closer to you the second you held his hand, and you felt his breath hit your neck as he rubbed his nose against your ear. You stifled a little moan mixed with a giggle and brought his hand down, his fingers lacing with yours as he did so.

“Can I… Tell you about my favorite star?” you asked him as you turned your head to face his.

“Tell me.”

You completely turned your body and scooted closer to him, his own body turning so he could face you properly. He let go of your hand so he could move his arm under your head to rest, and you snuggled into his soft chest. You placed your hand lightly on his chest and whispered, “This one. You’re my favorite star.”

“God, princess, you’re so cheesy,” Mingi rolled his eyes, but he had the biggest grin on his face.

“You’re also the brightest star, the prettiest star, the sexiest star,” you continued.

“I’m sexy, you say,” Mingi’s baritone voice dropped further, sending tingles of excitement down your spine.

“Of course you’re sexy. Your messy, dark hair, your smokey eyeshadow, your dark eyeliner,” you started listing, your fingers running through his hair then tiptoeing down his face. “Your beautifully angled nose, your… Soft… Lips…”

Your eyes lingered on his lips— eighty-eight days, and he had yet to kiss you. Well, he had kissed you, but he gave you those fleeting kisses, the kisses so quick that if you blinked, you’d miss them. Or, he’d kiss you “properly”, but those were usually on your forehead or cheek or shoulder— basically everywhere but your lips.

So, when he held your chin with a soft yet somehow still firm grip and tilted your chin up, your entire body flushed with warmth, with anticipation. Then, when his lips pressed against yours, you felt like you were soaring. You always imagined his lips were going to be soft since you spent so much of your time staring at them when he was on stage singing his heart out, and they were so much softer than you could imagine.

One kiss, then he leaned back, his eyes slightly darting back and forth as he observed your facial expression. Your rosy cheeks and small smile, your eyes turning into half crescents and sparkling brilliantly— God, Mingi loved all of it. So he kissed you again, a little more drive and passion behind the second one, and the intensity of his kisses only increased the more he kissed you.

You clung to him as his hand cupped your face, his long fingers brushing the nape of your neck and making you even more flustered. Your breaths and sighs mixed with his as your gentle string of kisses got heavier and hotter.

“What else?” Mingi asked in between kisses breathlessly. “What else do you find sexy?”

“Your neck tattoos.” Kiss. “Your hand tattoos.” Kiss. “Your nails.” Kiss. “Your rings.” Kiss. “Your style.” Kiss. “Your voice.” Kiss. “You.”

“Fuck, you’re so perfect, princess,” Mingi groaned, sending shivers down your spine.

Mingi forcefully disconnected himself from you, making you whimper and nearly whine. He stood up quickly, and before you could even begin to pick yourself up, he scooped you off the ground and carried you to his car. Unlocking it, he laid you down in the back seat and got in with you, his lips mashing into yours the second the car door closed.

His body rolled into yours as his hands roamed your body, your own restless hands tugging at his clothes, begging him to take them off. The sounds of your feverish lip locks with Mingi overpowered the rustling of your clothes and the clinks of his belt as they hit the ground one by one, leaving you completely naked and Mingi in just his underwear. You didn’t know when he managed to, but Mingi grabbed the condom he had stashed in his wallet and tucked it into the waistband of his underwear.

You wanted to ask why he was waiting to, for lack of better words, give it to you, but all of the thoughts and questions in your head disappeared in a heartbeat when Mingi traced two light fingers along your folds. A sigh of pleasure rippled out of your lungs when you felt his fingers slide through your slick and curl within you, the tips of his fingers digging softly into your walls. You could feel his rings press against your folds— they had yet to enter you. But, when he pulled his fingers out then shoved them right back in, he went further, his rings pushing past and into your cunt.

“Oh shit! Mingi!” you moaned loudly as he fingered you consistently and roughly. “Fuck, it feels so good!”

“Just keep moaning prettily like that for me, princess,” Mingi rasped as he added a third finger to the mix, his other hand beginning to massage your breast.

Your nails left red marks on his shoulders as you clung to him, your fingers and toes curling with every stroke. You bit your lower lip every so often so keep your moans to a minimum, but all hope was lost when his thumb started circling your clit, one circle for every stroke, and it definitely didn’t help when he started spreading his fingers inside you and pinched and tugged your nipple. You raked your fingers through Mingi’s hair and pulled him closer to you as you felt your orgasm wash over you, your loud moan sounding through the car.

“Princess, did you cum?” Mingi asked, although he didn’t need to know because he could feel your walls convulsing around his fingers.

You let out a little noise and nodded weakly, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes. Mingi caressed your face and wiped the tears away quickly before kissing you softly.

“Mingi,” you whimpered in between kisses. “I want you in me.”

You thought was going to laugh at the desperation in your voice, but he did anything but. He sat up and stroked your thigh gently as he said, “I’m going to need you to relax, okay?”

Mingi shed his boxers to reveal his massive cock. He just told you to relax, yet you couldn’t help but tense up when you saw what he was working with because he was fucking huge. It only made you even more fearful when you saw the letters XXL on his condom packet.

“Princess, just relax, okay?” Mingi instructed again softly.

He leaned down again and distracted you with his soft lips. His large hands went under your thighs and pushed your legs up, the length of his cock rubbing against your clit before pushing in slowly. You did your best to focus on kissing Mingi and tighten your hold on him to get yourself to loosen up to the best of your ability, but that didn’t stop you from feeling his like cock was going to tear you a new one.

Mingi kept his lips on yours as he moved slowly and calmly, his dick not completely leaving your body nor going all the way inside. He was just warming you up, but you felt like you were about to combust into flames with the way he was making you feel. You moaned and cried into his kisses while he grunted, his own restraint starting to weaken— he didn’t want to hurt you, at least not the first time the two of you had sex together.

The car bounced and shook when Mingi’s last string of self-control snapped. His cock filled you up and went so far deep inside you that you thought he was going to bruise your cervix. The sound of your sloppy kisses and heavy breaths and the raunchy squelches of his cock moving in and out of your soaking cunt harmonized, the sounds nearly escaping the confines of the car. What did escape, though, was your crying moan when Mingi rubbed against your G-spot and hit your cervix at the same time. The two of you came together, Mingi’s low groan ringing in your ears.

You were practically knocked out when Mingi pulled out of you, your weak and trembling hands struggling to push your sweaty hair away from your forehead. Mingi watched with slight amusement as you slowly started to regain your sanity.

“You look so pretty right now, princess,” Mingi said softly, nearly cooing. “I just want to see you disheveled like this under me all the time.”

“Tell me when and where, and I’m there, rockstar.”

After 100 days of being together, the problem started to arise.

“Hey, pretty princess,” Mingi greeted you as he walked into the coffee shop for your coffee date.

“Hey there, rockstar,” you greeted right back.

Mingi leaned down and kissed your lips quickly before taking the seat in front of you. He reached for your hands and held them, your hands fitting perfectly in his.

“Did you order yet?” he asked.

“Yeah, for both of us.”

Right on cue, one of the baristas announced your drinks were ready. Mingi got up and quickly returned with the drinks in hand. He set both the drinks down, your eager hands immediately picking up your iced one.

You only got to take one sip of your drink when your phone started ringing. You looked at the caller id and immediately declined the call before setting your phone face down on the table, Mingi warily watching all of your actions.

“Who was that?”

“Spam,” you replied with a frown— you hated lying to him, but to be fair, the caller was spamming you, and you had no intention of ever picking up the calls.

“Ugh, hate that,” Mingi grimaced.

“Tell me about it.”

The phone calls persisted. Every time the two of you went on a date or hung out or did anything together, you would get the “spam” calls. Mingi didn’t think much of it at first because spam calls usually were very annoying, but he started to worry when you phone would ring two, three, even four times in a row no matter how many times you declined the call.

“Hnngh— Harder! Fuck— Faster!” you shrilled as Mingi fucked you from behind. “Ugh, Mingi, so good!”

Your face was nearly smashed into your mattress as Mingi ruthlessly stuffed his large cock in your tight hole. He grunted loudly and affirmatively as he gripped your ass harder, his rings digging into your skin, your skin getting redder with his occasional slap.

Mingi was the first to notice. Your phone was on the nightstand, and it was ringing. He slowed his pace so he could reach over and grab it to decline the call on your behalf. He tossed your phone onto the bed near your hand and upped his tempo while pulling your ass higher into the sky.

And yet, your phone rang again. You quickly declined it before Mingi could notice, but he did. It was when it rang for the third time that Mingi had enough.

“Princess,” he grunted. “Gimme your phone.”

“W-why?”

“Just gimme.”

You unlocked your phone and pushed it backwards towards him— you trusted Mingi, so you had no problem doing as he asked. And Mingi didn’t abuse that trust. He simply opened the call log and saw the sea of red missed or declined calls, all of them from the same, unsaved number. He blocked the number and locked your phone before setting it back on the nightstand where it originally was, then he continued to fuck your brains out.

Mingi wanted it to be done then and there, which technically it was because you blocked the number, but that didn’t stop a bad feeling from manifesting within him.

“Yo, Mingi, you gonna meet us at the restaurant?” Yunho asked the singer.

“Yeah, I’m gonna call Y/N first—”

“You mean your pretty princess?” San teased— your name on Mingi’s phone was “pretty princess”, and the guys teased him all the time for it.

“Your pretty preppy princess?” Wooyoung piled on.

“Yes, my pretty princess. Go choke on some soju,” Mingi frowned and shooed the boys away.

The four other members of IT’S YOU(TH) skipped cheerfully away, leaving Mingi alone by his car. He started calling you only for someone to grab his phone.

“IT’S YOU(TH), huh? Cute.”

Mingi whipped around, his jaw tensing as he got ready to beat the shit out of whoever stole his phone from him.

“What’s your fucking problem, dude? Give my phone back, or I’ll beat the shit out of you,” Mingi warned aggressively.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the same voice said.

Stepping closer to him, a man with a flowery charm but deadly eyes appeared before Mingi. He dangled his phone as he stood before him, riling Mingi up further. He tightened his fist and prepared to swing, only for two pairs of arms to restrain him. The two people behind him brought Mingi down to his knees and kept him there, one man kneeling on his back while the other had a fistful of Mingi’s hair tight in his grasp.

“What the fuck do you want?” Mingi asked, his anger intensifying. “If it’s money, I’ll give you however much you want.”

“I don’t need your money, guitar boy. I want Y/N.”

“What?”

The man crouched in front of Mingi and held his phone up, the lock screen of you and Mingi shining brightly. He pointed at you and said, “I want Y/N back.”

“Oh, you’re a crazy ex-boyfriend,” Mingi couldn’t help but scoff. “Listen, she’s not one for me to give back. She likes me, so she’s dating me. She doesn’t like you, so she’s not dating you. It’s her choice, dude.”

Without a warning, the guy punched Mingi in the face. Mingi’s cheek immediately started bleeding, his eye throbbing with pain. Before he could recover from the shock of the punch, the man sent a mean hook into his jaw, Mingi’s head flying to the side. The guy behind him held his head back up, forcing Mingi to make eye contact with the asshole that just punched him.

“She didn’t break up with me because she stopped liking me, you asshole. She broke up with me because of you.”

Mingi didn’t bother responding— villains usually always revealed everything without being prompted.

“Ever since she went and saw your cute little band, she told me she “fell in love with you” and that she would literally “do anything” for you. Someone like you with your fucking pretty boy make up and your painted nails and your criminal face tattoo,” the man sneered in Mingi’s face. “Someone like you of all fucking people.”

“Seonghwa,” one of the men behind Mingi uttered. “Get to the point.”

“Shut the fuck up, Hongjoong,” the man, who Mingi could now identify as Seonghwa, snapped. Turning back to Mingi, Seonghwa continued, “She was still dating me the day you signed her fucking bra. And then the concert after that, you fucking asked her out, and she said yes and dropped me in a heartbeat.”

“How is that my fault?! I asked her out, but she could’ve said no!” Mingi argued.

“It’s you and your fucking band’s fault for even existing, you asshole!”

Seonghwa grabbed the collar of Mingi’s shirt and pulled him up, the two other men behind Mingi still holding onto him.

“Hongjoong, Jongho, let go. I want to beat this guy up,” Seonghwa hissed.

“Seonghwa, calm down—”

“Fucking drop his ass!”

Hongjoong and Jongho let go of Mingi, and Seonghwa immediately swung before Mingi could stop him. Mingi fell to the ground, allowing Seonghwa to start kicking the shit out of him. He couldn’t even get away from Seonghwa, but thankfully, his two friends held him back.

“Do you really think Y/N is going to want to be with you if you do shit like this?”

“Don’t give her a reason to hate you, dude.”

“Ugh, fine!” Seonghwa admitted defeat before shaking his friends off. “But you, Song Mingi, you better break up with her or else.”

“Or else what? You’ll kill me?” Mingi scoffed.

“No. I’ll destroy the rest of your band.”

The color in Mingi’s face drained. He could handle someone threatening him, but the thought of anyone from IT’S YOU(TH) getting hurt because of him or disbanding because of him was terrifying to him.

“Y-you… You wouldn’t.”

“I can, and I will. Break up with Y/N, and you and your band can sing your silly songs for the rest of time. Stay with her, and I’ll drive everyone in your life away from you.” Seonghwa tossed Mingi’s phone back to him. He crouched in front of him and added, “You have ’til the next concert.”

With that, Seonghwa and his friends left Mingi next to his car bleeding, afraid, and alone.

“That’s why your eye was black?” Yeosang asked with shock.

“Yes.”

“Mingi… I’m so sorry,” San sounded like he was about to cry.

“Yeah, you shouldn’t have to choose like that. Her ex-boyfriend is a complete psychopath!” Wooyoung added just as emotionally.

The three boys smothered Mingi with hugs while Yunho stood a little bit away, a frown plastered to his face.

“Alright, but now you all will drop it, right?” Mingi grunted as he tried to escape the group hug.

The boys nodded and verbally agreed. They started to head back inside, but Mingi stayed outside to burn through another cigarette. Yunho stayed with him.

“Don’t say anything, man. I know you,” Mingi sighed as he fished out his carton of cigarettes again.

Yunho didn’t say anything. Instead, he gave Mingi a silent hug, his hand petting the back of the singer’s head. Tears welled up in Mingi’s eyes. He dropped his face into Yunho’s shoulder and hugged the keyboardist back as he silently sobbed about his broken heart.

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trope taglist: @eyeryis @sinnarols @k-hotchoisan @aaasia111 @sunshineangel-reads @hwallazia @dazzlingstarrs @hyukssunflower

network: @cromernet

apply for the taglist here!

#Youtube #ateez #song mingi #mingi smut #mingi x reader #ateez mingi #song mingi ateez #mingi ateez #song mingi smut #broatz #trope ateez #trope series #ateez smut #ateez angst #mingi angst #song mingi angst #cromernet

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bro-atz · 2 months

Text

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

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“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.

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