Broken Belts
Summary: Of course, the one day you decide to take it out for a spin, your classic car decides the repairs you were avoiding need immediate maintenance. Leading to you needing to head to a garage to fix them.
Oneshot
Fluff, Strangers to Dating, Fast burn?
Possible Warning?: Referring to a car as ‘Baby’.
Word Count: 4,956
‘Old-School’ Mechanic! Younghoon X Reader
[Long a/n w/info to go: If you’re changing your serpentine belt when it’s past due as you will do here, pls change the pulleys too- but rn you will not do that :) Very simplified car terminology: crankshaft: rotates pistons which runs the engine, alternator: keeps the battery charged, power steering: helps you turn easily, idler: keeps the engine running while it’s ‘sitting’, and water pump runs water throughout the system. Serpentine belt: The belt that keeps all the pulleys (that are attached to above terms) in time with each other, can be one or multiple. In this fic there will be two: A power steering serpentine belt & an air conditioning belt. Lastly, the two cars featured are a: ‘70 Boss 302 Mustang and a ‘71 Maverick. Lastly but not least; a special thanks to @jinkoh for helping inspire another Younghoon fic.].
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You knew better. You swore you knew better, but even with the loud squealing of the serpentine belt, you still kept driving it. Because, of course, it wouldn’t break before you had time to change it. After all, it was just the first few days of summer. You wanted to enjoy the weekend with your Boss 302 Mustang, whether or not it was screaming. You’d replace them during the week when you had the time, but this was the first weekend, so it’d be fine. Your air conditioning had been malfunctioning recently, but in your mind, it was because the car was fifty-some years old. You just rolled the windows down and enjoyed the weather. Maybe, if it was a newer car, the computer would be screaming at you now to see a specialist. But that was the pleasure of older cars. You never had to deal with extra lights telling you the exact mileage when to do things. You could do it at your leisure, and like the serpentine belt, you’d fix it at your leisure.
So, with that thought in mind, at the turn of the green light, you slammed on the gas, the car roaring as you sped down the route ten miles over the speed limit. Your car needed to feel the breeze, even if it meant a ticket. You laugh as you continue down the sunset strip. It feels good to be behind the wheel after two seasons of waiting. You make it through two more green lights before hitting another red light. You pout and wait for it to turn green as you notice you're the only one waiting at the intersection. When the light changes, you get on it again, flying through the intersection.
You start turning your wheel to follow the curve when you hear a ‘snap’ sound over your radio. Your eyes widen as you lose power steering. Maybe it was good that your daily driver told you when to change things. “No, no, you promised me a nice weekend. Come on, baby.” You gulp as the wheel gets harder to turn. You make it past the curve, throwing your four-ways on, and a hundred feet after it, manage to pull it over onto the side of the road. You check it’s clear before popping the hood, getting out of the car, and shutting the door. You slip your fingers between the grill and opening and move the latch to the side, lifting up the hood, praying it isn’t one of the belts. You raise it until you can put the prop inside the slot. You let the hood rest on it before looking over the engine before locking eyes with the two-belt pulley system. It was the reason why you were avoiding repairing it this weekend. It was rotten to deal with one, but two? That's nightmare fuel. You look at the air conditioning belt and see it’s intact even though it’s dry-rotted. You sigh in relief before checking the power steering belt and watch as it falls off and onto the ground. You look up to the sky before shaking your head, “Well… I definitely can’t make it home, but I can get it to a garage at least.”
You get on your knees and grab the fallen belt. You check it over to see the clean snap and dry rot. And shake your head again, “There goes my nice weekend.” With a sigh, “I know, I know it’s my fault. I should have fixed you the second I heard your squealing. But I’ll fix you now, baby. It’s okay.” You look for the dimension numbers as you listen to the soft breeze. You hum as you type them on your phone as someone zooms past you reminding you you're still stuck on the road in the middle of nowhere. You lift the hood off the prop, locking it in place. You lower the hood down gently and let it drop the rest of the way. It clicks in place, and you get back inside your car.
You look up the nearest garages, looking for one with spaces to rent and a mechanic experienced in older automobiles. And luckily, the closest happens to be Younghoon’s Garage, an automotive repair shop. You read further to see he specializes in classic car maintenance and dabbles in the newer stuff. And that he allows for people to rent out garage spaces to work on their car. You sigh in relief. It was going to be okay. You didn’t have to deal with an inexperienced mechanic telling you how to work on your car. Nor did you have to worry about letting someone work on your baby, either.
You call up the garage and hear the voice of a person around your age answer, “Younghoon’s garage; what can I help you with?” You gulp your nervousness back; it's probably just the mechanic’s son taking the call. “Uh, I need to rent a garage today.” He hums on the other line, “Okay~ I have three available. Feel free to bring your car down any time today before six, or I won’t be able to let you in.” You thank him and tell him you’re two miles away and you’ll be there soon. “Okay, I’ll be waiting!” You hang up and place the belt on the floor. You turn your car over, pressing in the clutch, scolding your car, “Now, don’t give me any more troubles until we get to the shop, baby.” You shift it down to first, release the handbrake, and give it some gas before checking to see it’s clear. You grit your teeth as you turn the wheel to get it on the road before heading to the garage.
You couldn’t be happier to see the old-fashioned neon sign saying, “Younghoon’s Garage.” You groan as you turn the wheel, putting everything into it just to make it turn left. As you pull in, you see someone leaning against the entryway of a garage door. His hair is slightly in his eyes as he looks down at the ground. He looks up as you get closer, and you see him for the first time. You’ve never seen someone make a gray denim overshirt and white tee look so good. You huff out a breath as he waves you in, walking to the back of the garage. He guides you onto the lift, and if you weren’t struggling behind the wheel, you would have been stunned by his pretty smile. When he motions for you to stop, you tiredly put it into park, putting the handbrake down before turning it off. You shake your hands, getting the feeling back in them after gripping the wheel tightly to maneuver it.
You open your door and get out to see him waiting for you. He greets you with a warm smile, and you smile back as you shut the door behind you, “Hi, I’m (Y/n).” And he smiles, “Nice to meet you, I’m Younghoon.” You stop your jaw from dropping and tell him it’s nice to meet him, too. You didn’t expect him to be the owner. He looks at your car, “Your belt was squealing.” You sigh, “I know…” He shrugs as he laughs, “Don’t worry, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Did the power steering belt snap? It looked like you were struggling to turn it.” You nod, and he pats your shoulder, “I’m glad you got here safe then.” You sigh, “Me too.” He smiles and tells you, “Anyways, the garage is all yours to use! If you need parts or anything. Feel free to see my office.” He points to the door that leads out of the garage. He gives you one last smile before leaving, and you smile back.
You roll down the garage door, not wanting to deal with the slight breeze blowing inside while you’re working. You prop the hood up and head to the toolboxes, looking for the sockets and wrenches. You take the socket wrench with you and test the sockets against the bolt until you find the right size. And with ease, you loosen the idler pulley. You ratchet it back into place after removing the belt. You read the dimensions and write it down on your phone before heading to Younghoon's office. You open the door and find he’s nowhere to be found. You look down at the counter, trying to figure out what to do. When you see a ripped sheet of notebook paper, “(Y/n), if you need me, I’m in the garage two doors down!” You smile, not expecting his penmanship to be so pretty. You walk out the front door and hear the loud sounds of an air ratchet. You follow them to the garage he told you he’d be in. And see him pulling a back tire off of a Maverick. You take the sight in momentarily before reminding yourself that you’re here to work on your vehicle, not admire the shop owner. You come up to him, and before you can say anything, he rolls the tire up against the wall and sees you first. “Hey, (Y/n)! Whatcha ya need?” You smile, “My belts, but I can wait for you to finish this up.” He shakes his head, wipes his hands off on a white towel, and gets off the roller, “No need! I have another hour to replace the brakes on this Maverick.” You laugh and shrug, “If you say so.”
He leads you back to the shop, and that’s when you catch the smell of his cologne for the first time. You shake your head; of course, he smells good too. He holds the door open for you and lets you in. He runs his hand through his hair as he asks, “What sizes?” You tell him, and he nods, “I��ll go get them from the back.” You watch him disappear behind the shelving units. He peeks his head out for a second, and you resist smiling about how cute he is as he asks, “Anything else?” You shake your head and tell him, “No, I’m good.” He comes the rest of the way out, and you have to remind your heart that even if looks cute, he’s just doing his job. You thank him as he gently puts them in your hands. He heads out the front door while you head back out the side door to your garage.
After setting the new ones down, you take and toss the old ones into the rubber disposable bin. You find a clean rag and wet it with soap and water to clean off the pulleys. One dirty rag later, everything is cleaned and ready for its new belts. You head to your glovebox and pull out the modified diagram you made when you last replaced the belts. You mutter to yourself, “Next time, I’m getting a serpentine kit, so I only have to fix one belt.” You sigh as you look over your notes before slipping the new power steering belt out of its packaging. You fold and put it away, having already memorized the modified diagram. You slip it underneath the crankshaft pulley, before pulling the belt up to the alternator pulley, and slipping it over it. The easy part is over. You slide it underneath the water pump before moving the belt to where the power steering pulley is to wind it around. You work the belt up to the pulley, and it starts giving you a hard time. It takes two tries before you can muster all of your strength in your hands to force it up and over. You let out a breath of relief and take a break for water, sitting on the shop chair, knowing that the worst belt was over.
You take your time before heading back to the engine. The last step would be easy. All you had to do was get this over and out of this garage, and you’d be set for the next forty to seventy thousand miles if you’d play your cards right. You sigh as you pull the big belt out of its packaging and play with it, debating if your car was worth the trouble. You shake your head, deciding to do it, checking your diagram one last time before slipping the belt under the crankshaft pulley. After several minutes of struggling, you finally get the belt over the idler pulley. You grumble at it before attempting to push it over the a/c pulley. You try several more times but continue to come up short, just getting it to skim the top of it, not being able to push it over. You decide to let it go, thinking it’ll rest on the idler, and you watch as it slips right off both and onto the ground.
Having enough, you yell at it, “You gotta be kidding me!” You get down on your knees and pull it off the floor as you hear the office door fly open. You look to see Younghoon rushing out, “I heard you yell! Are you okay!?” You glare at the belt, “I’m okay… just mad at an inanimate object.” He chuckles, “You had me worried there.” After a moment, he gently asks, “Can I help?” You give him a look, “Wouldn’t that cost more…” He shakes his head with a laugh as he tells you, “You’ve already spent three hours here. I’ve got my money's worth.” You chuckle, “I guess so. And only if you want to.” He smiles and comes around to the front beside you, “Which belt are you working on?” You pull your diagram out showing him, “The air conditioning belt.” He nods, looking over it as he memorizes it, “Okay, let’s do it together.”
He rolls his gray sleeves up before holding his hand out for the belt. You hand it over, and he has you switch sides. He reaches his arm down and slips it under the crankshaft pulley. When he lifts his head, he compliments you, “You did well on the other belt!” You thank him, and he lets you pull it over the idler, and with a struggle, you push it over. His arm brushes yours as he reaches for the belt, “You hold it tight on the idler, and I’ll try to push it over the AC, okay?” You nod and clasp your hand over it so it doesn’t move off of the pulley. And with a grunt, he shoves it over, and your jaw drops before you go, “I loosened it up for you.” He looks over at you, and he winks, “Sure.” You look away to hide your fluster making a show of picking up your socket wrench. And he asks, “What size do you have so we can make this job go quicker?” You tell him, and he walks away as you start tightening down the bolts. He leans down beside you, putting his arm inside to tighten the crankshaft pulley. As you bump his side, you look over at him and give him an awkward smile, and he laughs as he does the same. You both continue bumping into each other until it’s all set in place, exchanging little smiles each time.
Once it’s all seated in place and perfect, he goes, “Start ‘er up!” You grin, and he backs up from the front as you hop inside and turn it over, giving it some gas until it roars. You pop out, and he goes, “Well, it hasn’t come flying off yet. So I think we did a good job.” You smile, “I think so too!” You both get closer, looking over the engine, watching the two belts spin around the pulleys. You step back, and he raises his hand up, you smile as you give him a high five, and he smiles back. You head back inside your car and turn it off. When you pop back out, he asks, “What do you say to takeout?” You blink at him, “Huh?” He tells you, “You’ve been here for almost three and a half hours and haven’t eaten. And I’m quite hungry for dinner. So, what do you say to takeout?” You shake your head, “You don’t have to-” He shakes his head back at you, “No, you’ve worked your ass off to get this thing here, and then you had to struggle with these belts. So what would you like?” You smile, “Something delicious.” He nods, “I know just the place. You get everything cleaned up, and I’ll order, okay?” You nod, “Sounds good.”
He heads to his office while you put all the tools you’ve borrowed away into their proper places. Throwing the dirty rag into a bucket for rags before heading back to your car and lifting the hood up off the prop, setting that down first before you shut the hood. You head to his office to see him bringing a chair in for you to sit on and hold your hands out, “Got anywhere to wash my hands?” He nods, “Yeah,” he moves from behind his desk and shows you to it. “Feel free to use it how you like.” You nod and give him a small, “Thanks!” You make your way back just as he’s placing the bags of food down. He hears you walking towards him and goes, “Just in time~” You smile and walk over as you figure out whose box is which.
As you eat, you think about what to say to him. When it hits you, you tell him, “You know, I thought you were an old man.” He tilts his head at you as he leans back, “Why’s that?” You laugh, “You pretty much work only on classic cars. And when you answered, I thought I was talking to the owner's son or something.” He runs his hand through his hair as his lips press together, “Oh, I hope it was a pleasant surprise.” You laugh, “Yeah, it was nice.” He smiles, and after a pause, he says, “You know, we’re a little odd?” You ask, “Why’s that?” And he tells you, “We both like working on old cars.” You shake your head, “I guess we are a little odd.” You both giggle, and he claps his hands together, which makes you laugh even harder. Finding it endearing, the words, “So cute,” slip out before you can stop them. Your eyes go wide, and you quickly look down, digging into your food, acting as if your food made you say it. You don’t see his ears turn red, but you feel his stare on you as you eat, yet he doesn’t say anything. So you figure he just brushed it off. After a few moments of silence, he says, “You know I’ve never worked on a Boss until today.” You gasp, finally looking up at him, “What about ridden in one?” He shakes his head, “Never. Only ever seen them at car shows.” You smile as you tell him, “I guess we’ll have to change that. What do you say we take my car for a test drive after this?” He grins, “I’d like that.” You eat another bite, and he asks, “What do you say to ice cream?” You smile, “I’d like that. It'll be my treat for helping me.” He smiles, “Okay, and I’ll guide you to it while you show me what your baby can do~” You grin, “Okay!”
When you’ve both finished eating, you clean up your trash and toss it in the can. He clicks the button for the garage and leads you out, “I’ll have to shut from inside, but I’ll guide you off, okay?” You nod and head to your car. Hopping in, you turn it over, checking the door is fully up before you start easing the car off the lift, looking over to the side to see him motioning you. You gulp as you hear your back tires hit the ramp, and he smiles at you, encouraging you to keep going. You get your car off the lift and onto the pavement outside and watch as the garage door shuts in front of you. He comes out of the shop with his keys in hand, and you pop the door open for him, “Hi.” He smiles, “Hi.” You watch as he sinks into the seat, his knees practically to his chest. And you both laugh before you say, “You can put the seat back.” He scoots the chair and leans it back. And with a sigh, he says, “That's a lot more comfortable.” You shake your head, still laughing, “I bet.” Making sure his seatbelt is on, you ask, “Ready?” He smirks, “Born ready.”
You reverse until you can spin it around and drive onto the main route. Instead of hearing the squealing, you hear the gentle roar of your motor. And he tells you, “It already sounds better.” You smile at him as you shift into first gear, “It does.” You smoothly transition from second to third gear as you get up to speed. He relaxes in the seat as he watches you drive, and you feel excitement as you race down the road. You pat the wheel, “That’s it, baby~” Out of the corner of your eye, you see him smiling at you, “What?” He shrugs his shoulders, “Nothing.” You ask, “You sure?” He smiles, “You just look good behind the wheel.” You blush, “Is that so?” He hums, “Yeah.” He doesn’t say anything else, and you both listen to the radio, unsure of what else to say.
You shift it into fourth as the speed limit finally reaches seventy. And he lets out a little cheer, and you grin over at him, and he asks, “How fast can it go?” You smirk, “Wanna find out?” He nods excitedly, and you check behind you to see an empty street. You look at him with a smirk before slamming down on the gas and taking off. You watch as you fly up to eighty, quickly hitting ninety. You grin as you push a hundred, “It can go faster if you’re up for it?” As you take a glimpse at him, you see his sparkling eyes, “Hell yeah!” Your grip on the wheel gets tighter as you watch the road more intensely, and just as you hit 110, you see headlights coming towards you. You ease up on the gas as you pout, “We could have hit a hundred and thirty…” Your speed quickly drops, and he says, “Well if it’s any consultation-” You look over at him as your gauge drops back down to a safe seventy, “Hmm?” He grins, putting his hand over your other hand that’s now resting on the shifter, and links his fingers through yours, “That was the coolest experience I’ve had in months!” You giggle at him, “I’m glad you enjoyed it~” He smiles as he tells you, “And we’re about an intersection from the ice cream place.” You grin, “That’s even better news!” You slow down further as you get through the intersection. You notice his hand still over yours and squeeze his fingers as you shift down. He tells you to turn left as you shift into second. With one hand, you spin the wheel left and pull into the ice cream stand. You pull in, put into park, and look at his hand. He gasps as he quickly removes it from yours, and you resist your pout until he says, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was-” You shake your head, “I liked it.”
You get out of the car and offer him your hand, and he smiles as he links his hand in yours. You order your ice creams and pay for them before heading to the pickup line. You both talk quietly as you wait in front of the window. The person behind the window asks, “One cone and one sundae?” You both nod and take yours and some napkins before walking away, “Where do you want to sit?” He looks at the tree close to the car, “Underneath the tree?” You smile, “Sounds good to me.” You sit side by side underneath the tree while the sun slowly starts setting in the sky, and you ask, “So, what do you like to do for fun?” He smiles, “Watch movies and play video games.” You nod as you eat another bite of ice cream, and he asks, “What about you?” You smile as you tell him before asking, “Got any pets?” His eyes twinkle as he tells you about Bori and shows you photos of her. You grin, “She’s so cute!” He smiles, “The cutest.”
You two continue talking until you finish your ice cream. You get up together and throw away your trash. “Since you’ve never worked on one or rode in one before. Have you driven one?” He shakes his head no, and you ask, “Do you want to?” He blinks, “Seriously?” You hum before you ask, “You’ve driven a manual before, right?” He nods, and you smile as you hold your keys out to him, “I trust you.” He takes them in his hands, “You sure?” You agree as you head to the passenger side, “It’s not often I get to sit over here.” He looks at you over the roof, “Well, today’s your lucky day then.” You grimace before you say, “Overall, yeah.” He laughs, “Maybe not entirely. But how about right now?” You smirk, “It's better cause you're here.” He laughs as he sits down and shakes his head at you. He has to push the seat back again as you adjust your seat to have a straighter back. You both shut your doors and put on your seatbelts before he looks over at you and turns it over, giving it a little gas before it roars to life.
He lets up on the handbrake and engages the clutch, letting it slide into first. You watch him as he sticks his tongue out while he pulls out of the parking spot to concentrate. You giggle as you look at him, and he looks over at you and winks. You shake your head, and he pulls onto the road and shifts into second, quickly changing into third, then fourth as he gets it up to seventy. When he’s comfortable driving, no longer concentrating, you bump his hand that’s resting above the shifter. He grins over at you and takes your hand in his, interlocking your fingers.
You look at your joined hands and wonder how today went from rotten to wonderful. But as you trail your eyes up to his, “It was because of you.” He gives you an odd look, “Huh?” And you smile, “You made my day go from rotten to wonderful.” He squeezes your fingers, “My day was boring before you showed up.” You laugh, “Is that because I gave you something to do?” He shakes his head, “No. It’s not often someone as pretty as you walks into my shop.” You pout, “How often is not often?” He smiles, “Well, considering I’ve only seen you once? Once.” You roll your eyes, “Smooth,” but grin as you watch the streetlights fly past you.
You let his hand go so he can shift down when you see the shop in the distance. And before your hand can completely part from his, his pinky catches yours. You giggle as he shifts with your hand still partially in his. He slows down and parks in front of the garage you were in before. When you have to get out of the car, it’s his turn to pout as he shuts off your car. “What?” You ask as you shut the door behind you, “I still want to hold your hand.” You laugh as you hold your hand out for him to take again, “Okay.” He takes your hand in his and leads you to the shop door. He unlocks it and turns the light on before walking to his desk and sitting on his shop chair.
He asks you to sit down in yours, and you do, before you ask, “So, how much do I owe you?” He looks back at you, “I don’t feel like it’s right to charge you after we just went on a date…” You roll your eyes, “Before that, I was just a regular customer.” He shakes his head, “Regular customers are old gearheads…” You laugh, “So does that make me special, or do you invite them to eat dinner with you too?” His face twists up in disgust as you cackle, “Ew…” You ask again, “Anyways, what’s the total?” He sighs, “$80…” You roll your eyes, “The real total…” He shakes his head, “I only charge $27 an hour.” “Really? Even for the parts?” He shakes his head, “I can’t charge you for them when I helped you.” You give him a confused look, “But you only helped me with one…” He shrugs, “And?” You blink at him, “Why?” He grins, “Because you’re cute.” You shake your head at him, “I don’t know how you stay in business.” He smirks, “Probably because you never came in before.” You blush, and with your free hand, you fish out your card and shove it into the card reader. “What if I want to charge you something?” He blinks at you, “What do you mean?” You grin as you ask, “A date with me on Friday?” He gives you a small smile, “I would go on a date with you for free…” You shrug, “Okay, so free of charge, what do you say to date with me on Friday?” He grins, “I’d love to.”
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PLOT TWIST (4)
▸ chapter 4; the art of learning and overthinking
pt. 1 || pt. 2 || pt. 3 || pt. 4
✵ cast : jung wooyoung x fem!reader, kim hongjoong, lee juyeon, kim younghoon, ateez, mentioned oc and many kpop artists name or group
✵ genre : romance, marriage life, eventual angst, smut, mafia!au, non idol!au
✵ summary : there was a saying that learning is a lifelong process. what will you learn about the underworld, the first time you stepped into it? you might have what they call a beginner's luck, but will that be enough for the things you'll be facing soon?
✵ notes : 8k-ish. wow. thanks for waiting, to those whoever awaits i guess. i was thinking of making a taglist for this fic. taglist will be used for updates; ANY updates regarding PT. just drop ur @ in my askbox (here). also, PLS REBLOG.
WARNINGS BELOW CUT.
☒ warnings: smut... like a wholeass breeding kink i laid it all there, once more. marriage talk, maybe a swear word(s) here and there, do remind me if i missed anything
☒ i do not condone mafia acts nor any acts that goes against the law at all. everything mentioned are just purely fiction, made to entertain myself and fellow readers in this particular platforms.
☒ do not repost this on any other platform without my permission!
✓ reblogging, liking, and commenting this post in tumblr (through comment or askbox) are very much appreciated.
"what's happening?"
"i think they're fighting."
"over what?"
"dunno."
"guys, why are you standing like that?"
"like what?"
"like clearly, fucking eavesdropping. who—"
"—ssshh! they're at it again. can you hear what he said to her?"
"not a single word."
seven men stood in front of hongjoong's office with their ears flat against the door, hoping they could get a hint of anything that happened inside. however nothing was heard, no clear words exchanged between you and hongjoong got out of the door, courtesy of his soundproof room. that was besides from hongjoong's screams alongside your own. your two voices went against each other, each time getting louder and louder.
hongjoong was livid upon your actions before.
yet you stood your ground still.
"—we just had this opportunity, y/n, and the one time, the one fucking time i trusted you to stand under the light, you fucking threw everything that we worked hard for away just like that!" he screamed, clearly driven by anger upon your actions back at the lee mansion. to the lee juyeon.
"i threw no one and nothing! i did what i was supposed to do, i was trying to save ateez!" you screamed back defending yourself.
to your words he almost laughed maniacally. ”save ateez? by putting us in jeopardy?”
closing your eyes, you sighed. the atmosphere was tense between you and hongjoong, and it was not something that you imagined would happen in the first months of officially being a part of ateez. as a part of ateez, of course it was your goal to make ateez better and powerful. yet hongjoong couldn’t seem to see it from your point of view.
exasperatedly, you sighed. ”have some trust in me. am i not a part of ateez?"
"precisely.”
he pressed, before continuing. “because you're a part of ateez, y/n, that's precisely why you should be more careful! anything that's gonna happen to you, gonna happen to us and it's all on you. you risk not only your life or mine, but our brothers. your husband. our allies. everyone that worked under and with us, can't you see it?"
"did i not secure our place in the gala? on my first night introduced to the underworld?"
hongjoong was immediately silenced. on that note, you were right. you secured ateez’ place in the gala.
on a special note, that is.
“hongjoong?”
turning to juyeon, hongjoong stuttered his words out, “mr. lee, please forgive y/n’s boldness, she only worked in the shadow before a-and never ha-“
“make sure you all come to my gala. the whole week, i expect you all to be there. i’ll introduce you to some of my friends.” juyeon cut his words. looking back, hongjoong caught juyeon’s eyes wandering to the corner where he just had his conversations with you, but to no avail when he didn’t caught you in his line of sight.
juyeon drew a small smile which surprised hongjoong, before looking back to him, “she’s intriguing. i should have more time to know her, and i insist it.” he then straightened his hand out for hongjoong to take,
“i should hope to see ateez more in the future.”
“what did you two talk about?”
it was a question, but you know hongjoong would demand an answer from you.
a shadow brought into the light, and not even in one night, was able to reach a place even hongjoong has never reached before. a higher league. anyone in their right mind would question it the way hongjoong did.
“what did he say to you?” you countered.
“don’t answer a question with another, and i asked first.”
with the staring contest the both of you were having and hongjoong’s stubborness, you know you wouldn’t win against your captain.
you sighed, “i just said something about admiring his father’s work, that he was a winner, then he just said i fascinate him and made sure i came to the gala. that’s all, i promise.” you explained.
“joong, i don’t know what else to say but i just wish you could see that i’m on your side. i want ateez to win, the way you want it. nothing else.”
silence took over as hongjoong’s thoughts done the same to his head.
"okay." he sighed after a few moments. "but i'm warning you, y/n. no more bold moves that i don't know of. behave." he pressed. he moved towards his table and sat down.
"you're dismissed."
and so you left the room.
it takes time.
it takes time, was the sentence you say to yourself repeatedly on daily basis. ever since you got tangled with ateez, married to one of its member. ever since you knew hongjoong and worked your hardest for his trust. that it would take time for hongjoong to fully trust you.
your intentions haven't faded still.
midnight strikes. the kitchen was cold and empty. sitting on the island, the bourbon in your hand had melted the ice as you hold it, just staring at it blankly. you chugged it in one go and filled your cup once again. a sigh slipped through your lips unconsciously.
were you too much?
the events that happened the last weeks played in your mind, as you go through it one by one, moment by moment, correcting yourself in your mind.
the first time hongjoong unofficially accepted you into ateez.
babel.
lee juyeon and the conversation you had.
it most definitely was the unexpected outcome, how you crossed the boundary, how, weirdly enough, he was intrigued by you instead of angered by your statements. how you secured ateez's place in the gala all because of he insisted you'd be there. based on that thoughts alone, you couldn't help but wonder what will happen at the gala soon.
and that man in the garden, with his piercing brown eyes.
strikingly handsome man.
it was quite an embarrassing scene, yet all through it he only showed his concerns. even after he picked you up and moved you to a quiet hall. even after you just said a quick thank you and hurriedly ran away from him, not wanting to cause another scene any further.
you didn't get to know his name.
not that you needed it, it was just for formality. he saved you, after all.
raising your cup, you sipped your bourbon again. you were just reaching the bottle to pour another, when wooyoung's voice halted you. "how many have you had?"
turning your head, you saw him standing near the arch with a disapproving look on his face.
"five... this would've been the sixth," you answered truthfully, chuckling to ease the air.
"you know i hate it when you drink. i don't want you to bring back that awful drinking habit of yours." he scowled. "i don't want you to get sick, baby. you know that, right?"
by bad habit, he might be referring to your habit of drinking those poisons like water. you'd drink when you're happy. when you're sad. when you got problems. for lunch, for dinner. any time you could drink you'd drink, and it had became a part of your life so much that you didn't think much of it. though you always stay sober instead of drunk.
and wooyoung hated it so much he cut off all access to alcohol after the first few months of becoming your boyfriend. it was a weird feeling, the withdrawal you had. yet you weren't being fussy about it, only coming back to alcohol on certain occasion like parties, dinner, and now, just casually thinking of life on a slightly deeper level.
you smiled, "you're worried. i understand." you put down your cup on the sink, and put away the bottle back on its rack. you sat back on the chair as wooyoung walked towards you. he positioned himself between your thighs. your hands instinctively circled his neck, as he caressed your thighs softly. a peck landed on your chin.
"a penny for your thoughts?"
the dreading question left his lips. the one question which has no definite answer, at least for the night. too much thing going around in your head with little to no way to explain it. you shook your head, only answering to him with that smile from before.
"was it hongjoong hyung? what did you guys talk about? he seemed mad." he urged still.
"you asked as if it was bad and you were ready to land a punch on him."
"that's because i might."
chuckling, you circled your hands tightly around him, assuring him. "i'm okay. we're okay. he's just concerned and he voiced it all so well. as he's supposed to do, as our captain." you assured him, adding a peck on his cheek to secure your statement. "don't worry, woo. it was just about the gala."
"you sure?"
"yeah."
"then there's no reason for you to stay up late anymore..." he pulled on your waist, "come to bed then? i hate sleeping without you." he whined.
he offered you his hand, which you took happily. hand in hand the both of you walked towards your room, ending the night. safely tucked underneath the warm blanket, protected by the arms of none other than your lovely husband.
there were papers scattered around the wooden table, the computer screen was on but untouched, and a half cup of coffee that turned cold by then.
messy table, messy head they say.
yet it was far from how juyeon looked standing by his windowsill. his shirt were still unchanged from last morning, but still fits him well with no crinkles. his tie was loose, with his sleeves rolled up. the clock on his table was the only reminder the day had changed and the sun will soon be up, yet there he was still.
lacking sleep and deep in his thoughts.
a knock arrived on his office door yet he didn't bother to look up, only doing so when his butler called his name.
"sir juyeon," he called.
breaking his train of thoughts, juyeon looked to the elderly man standing near his desk. "ah, park jipsa*."
"sir, the sun is almost up and you haven't had any sleep. you're not doing any of your job either. you're risking your health, sir." the elderly butler reminded him, which juyeon only replied with a chuckle.
"you sound like you actually care about me." he mused with a chuckle, not forgetting to give him a side look.
"that's because it's my job, sir. to make sure the lee family line goes on. it's always been a park's job to make sure of it, since years ago and for years to come," he countered back, face straight yet his eyes still hold a hard look in them.
"not to mention it was your father's dying wish for me to keep you safe."
ah, the lee minhyuk. dearest father. melancholy hit him, juyeon gazed to the purplish orange sky sitting outside his window. the sun was starting to show itself, welcoming itself to the morning.
"never thought i'd be here without him." juyeon murmured to himself.
"he loved you so much he designed everything through and through, just for you to be here,"
that old man had served the lee family since the time of juyeon's grandfather's reign. he had served lee jiyoung until her downfall, served lee minhyuk until his death, and finally lee juyeon himself. for those years, nothing about the man ever changed.
his tongue still sharp as ever,
and his loyalty remained strong as ever.
nothing but truth came out of his mouth. lee minhyuk was one of the fiercest man to ever live; despite his ways of usurping and his infamous act in backstabbing his own family. the world might remember him as a hero, as a villain, but to juyeon he was simply a loving father. loving enough to fulfill juyeon's need as a child even after his mother's death.
to put everything in, he simply missed his father.
juyeon blinked a tear away, sighing before he brought back himself to reality. "you got the thing i asked for?"
"yes sir." park jipsa took out a folder and moved forward, handing it to juyeon. juyeon took it from him, opening the folder himself and screened through its pages.
"jung y/n was an orphan. her lineage is unknown at all, our investigator asked around the orphanage and said she was just dropped there and have been there since she was a baby. the orphanage had a funding program which enabled people to fund for the children there, if they wish to help but not to adopt. that funding helped jung y/n to go to school and after that, she got a scholarship to pursue further education abroad,” the butler explained, before adding, "not much is found about her life there. after that she just went back here and took small jobs. she met ateez and jung wooyoung, courtesy of the dirty job her boss had with ateez. the rest are history, they got married and here they were."
juyeon hummed. "nothing else?"
"nothing else. nothing related to you nor the mafia world,” he answered. "may i ask who she is to you, sir? for you to look about her this way."
"that's what i'm trying to find out too, park jipsa." he grinned, closing the folder. "i just found her, and she's... enticing. i can't quite put it in words yet. like i've known her before. but alas, we haven't. but i’ll make sure we do.”
"ah, and that thing i requested?" juyeon asked once again.
his butler nodded, "it's almost ready and will be sent first thing after it's done."
juyeon let out a satisfied hum. standing up, he stretched a bit before retreating from his office.
"i'll be resting the whole day. don't bother cleaning up my desk. i'll be available for work tomorrow." he announced as he walked out.
the butler nodded and bowed.
"as you wish, sir."
the lee family gala week only started a few days after chuseok. with a few days off, ateez decided that they'd visit a family for the holiday. that family happened to be wooyoung's only remaining relative; his father who lived around the rural area of the town.
it's not like the rest of the members didn't have a family. however, wooyoung's father was the only elderly figure that aligned with ateez, as in being in underworld. he was a part of a small gang who understood a little of the underworld, only stopping when he had wooyoung. some said he sort of trained wooyoung to get into the underworld. the rest of ateez's relative aren't much involved; hence the bond was better with wooyoung's father.
jung ilwoo, but he was more famous as just mr. jung.
the air in the countryside sure was different from the one in the city. along the fresh air the smell of barbecued beef filled your nose. the members were preparing for dinner behind you, going back and forth.
"food's almost ready!" seonghwa shouted, and people quickly gathered around, finishing their tasks faster.
"guys, where's wooyoung?" you asked when you couldn't found him within the crowd.
"try the kitchen. he was in charge of making songpyeon." one of them quipped.
answering a quick okay, you walked into the house. you called upon your husband by his name, which he loudly answered back, telling you of his whereabouts.
there you found him, sitting in the kitchen comfortably, skillfully molding the colorful songpyeons by hand.
"woo, come on, dinner's almost ready,"
"hold on," he didn't even spare you a glance, "i'm trying to make the songpyeons as pretty as possible." he remarked while proudly showing you one of the songpyeons he made.
you tsked him. "they're gonna end up ruined in our stomach anyways."
your nonchalantness had him scowling. "it's holidays, we deserve something pretty. and they say if you can make pretty songpyeons, you'll make pretty babies." he insisted.
"you seemed to be interested in babies a lot these days." you noted, with a lighthearted chuckle.
but it didn't set a reaction you expected out of wooyoung. rather than giving you another witty remarks or anything light to the moment like he always did, he stopped a while, stunned, before lowering his head, consumed by deep thoughts in his head. that chuckle and smile on your face was quickly wiped out as you reach for him.
"woo?" you called, nudging him by his shoulders lightly with your fingers.
he raised his hand, grazing your fingers before taking it in his own palm. he took a moment of silence while holding your hand, tracing every marks in there.
"i've been thinking about making a family of our own. it's been a while," he blurted out.
"i know. san told me," your other hand went up to his cheek, caressing him softly. "why haven't you told me this face to face?" you asked him.
"i dropped hints. like a lot." he jokingly said. "but i guess anyone would take it as a joke as usual—"
"you're not a joke, never."
"—point is i was just afraid, i guess." he finished nervously.
"of what?"
"that maybe you don't want kids. that maybe we'd be bad parents, or worse, if i wasn't good enough to become a dad, considering my... line of work. and many more reason." he explained, eyes still looking down at his own feet.
there's only one jung wooyoung.
however the times you've spent with each other had made you both realize that there are many things you don't know about each other. like how hard it was for wooyoung to voice out his thoughts, preferring acts than words. as a capo he was more used to receiving commands, listening, doing things and getting them done, despite being able to have thoughts of his own and proving it more than once. having lived with it longer than he was with you, it became something that stays with him. he might be mouthy and loud when he was clingy or showing his affections to you and others, but not when it comes to himself.
i’m okay, it’s nothing much. those were the words that most likely would came out of his mouth. all those times when he came home bruised all over his body, or even bleeding. when he could barely move without wincing in every step he took, clearly in pain. when he came out of hongjoong’s office with his head down, always the same answer.
it took you hours, even days to extract it out of him. and you’d never forget to appreciate him when he finally came clean about his problems.
“woo, look at me.” you spoke softly, pulling up his chin softly to stare into his eyes. “i’m your wife, you’re my husband. remember? we made a vow.” which he nodded.
“i understand that you might need time to speak up, but i don’t want us to keep anything from each other. especially things regarding our marriage, our family.” you explained.
“and about that,” you quipped, “i’m not opposed to it. but i want us to be more ready instead of just being reckless.”
upon your words, a hopeful smile appeared on his face, his eyes turned crescent along with it. “really?” he asked, making sure which you answer with a nod. “does that mean we can start trying and preparing?”
you feigned a gasp, “i thought you’ve been trying since forever?”
you both laughed to it. the moment was soon broken by a shout from outside, loudly calling for dinner. "c'mon, let's not make others wait."
hollers welcomed you when you and wooyoung walked out of the house, joining the rest on the veranda for dinner.
“i hope you didn’t taint the kitchen. your dad cooks and eat there, y’know.” yeosang teased, eliciting laughs from others.
“how about i taint your ears, shithead?” wooyoung taunted back menacingly, “i’ll gladly move next to your room, if that’s what you want.” he ended. the smile quickly wiped out of yeosang’s face as it turned pale with the imagination of restless nights caused by your nightly acts next to his room. and with wooyoung's stamina? it'd be miracle to have a 3 hours quiet time.
after all, that's why you both got your own quarters, far from others' in the mansion.
“i’d rather have my ears stabbed then.” he deadpanned.
dinner started, along with chatters shared between the boys and wooyoung's father. though the old man preferred to answer shortly, being a quiet person he was.
you didn't talk much with him, with how he answered so shortly. yet you still care for him, constantly reminding wooyoung to come home once in a while or bringing things for his father.
"woo, aren't we gonna make offerings with the songpyeon and everything?" you quipped. dinner was done, you and wooyoung were in charge of washing dishes.
wooyoung raised his eyebrows and returned a loud, "huh? what offerings?"
"to your ancestors? it's a part of the holiday too, right?" you asked.
after thinking for a while, he let out a loud 'ah'. "my dad stopped doing that when i was like... ten? i don't know." he answered nonchalantly. "besides, my dad said my grandpa and grandma passed a long time ago, when he was younger. he kinda decided it's way past the time."
"not even to your mom?"
the question left him stunned for a while.
"right... she's dead. i don't know a thing about her though."
"i'm sorry, love." you offered an sympathetic smile. "was she bad, did she neglect you or something?"
he shrugged, "i don't know. dad never really talked about her, he was kinda dismissive about it. just said that she died not long after i was born."
he inhaled, then exhaled, seemingly deep in thoughts before speaking again. "but i don't think she's bad at all." he stated. "one time when i came home from school, i think i was around eleven or twelve... he set up an offering table. there were no photos, no name or anything. i asked him who it was for, and he said it was for my mom. he said it was an... important time and she would want to be remembered. so we prayed for her. and i asked one more time about her to my dad."
"what did he say?"
"he just said he believed that my mom would've loved me. it's just that fate didn't really allow us to be together. sounds cliche as fuck and i don't really get it even now. but i decide to believe that she did love me. it's easier that way too. i never asked much after that."
"so you never know anything about her? at all?" you queried, invested in his back story.
stopping his movement in wiping the plates, he leaned back and furrowed his brows, deeply thinking. then he answered,
"dad said my eyes were like hers, and she gave me my name. he also said she was brave and i took after her, just in a reckless way."
that conversation ended with laughs escaping from both of your mouths. and so did the night.
midnight passed, and you were sure everyone was fast asleep when you moved to the living room.
the songpyeons you had spared before were placed neatly on a plate, along with some other offerings like fruits. there were a bowl of rice and a soup. lighting the candles, you sat down in front of the table.
you've decided to pay a little respect for wooyoung's mother, if he and his father decided not to.
you thanked mrs. jung for bringing wooyoung to where he is now; as your loved one, while wondering what would she be like if she were still here. what would she see from you, and many things. you prayed that wherever she is now she'll do well, promising you'll do your best to be wooyoung's wife.
he might be a pain in the ass sometimes but thank you, he's the sweetness everyone needed in this bitter life.
you were just sitting comfortably in the silence when you heard someone clearing their throat just behind you. turning your back, your eyes found mr. jung standing there, just staring at you blankly.
"abeoji*..." you stuttered like a deer caught in the headlight, quickly standing up. awkwardness filled in, you knew you weren't wrong for doing it, but it feels unfair to do it yourself when wooyoung and his father didn't even do so. despite being in laws with mr. jung, you still feel like a stranger in the household.
he raised his hand calmly, dismissing the awkwardness. then he smiled at you. he took a closer look to the offering table you made for mrs. jung.
he then just stared at it longingly.
not a single word slipped out of your lips when he observed you and your midnight activity. he just sighed again, retreating.
"you really are something else." he chuckled with his deep voice.
"i'm sorry if this offended you." you apologized, but he just shook his head.
"you're doing something nice, how am i offended?" he said, "i trust she'll be at ease... now that you're here."
he then proceeded to speak more. "always a surprise, something else she was. i wish she could've seen wooyoung and how he grew up, what kind of man he will grown into."
"i'm sure she would've been so proud oof wooyoung and you. for raising him to the man he is today. i believe she'd do anything for you if she could." you said soothingly.
"hmm, it shows." he quipped. “for everything to fall this way, i can see why she chose…“ he stopped himself, staring at you for a while, before moving his eyes to the offering table once more.
“this.”
you raised your eyebrows upon the cryptic message, confusion written all over your face. upon seeing your contorted face, instead of further explaining things, the man chose to retreat, offering you a small smile.
“good night, y/n.”
it was a weird encounter with mr. jung.
however, you remembered wooyoung and hongjoong's words, about how cryptic and confusing the elderly man can be. and you were never in one thought anyway with mr. jung, so you decided to drop the thoughts of that night.
but surprise, surprise, oh the thoughts you were going to have today.
"...say what?" you dumbly ask once again.
your butler sighed, once again offering the fancy box in his hand. "it came just this morning, madam. a gift from lee juyeon for the gala, addressed to mrs. jung y/n." he explained.
the whole people sat around the table were silent as they watched the scene unfold before them. wooyoung rose to action first, snatching the box from the butler and putting it on the table.
upon opening the box, he was met with a neatly folded fabric of what seemed to be a dress, a set of jewelry, a pair of masks, an invitation and a piece of paper. he took both the invitation and paper, observing the contents. he found the gala theme to be a masquerade party, the lee family invited ateez to be a part of the gala for a week. he then moved his eyes to the other piece of paper, reading it carefully.
he decided to read it out loud. "dearest mrs. jung, i hope you accept this token of good friendship between us, ateez and lee family. come to the gala and— what the fuck? —and allow me to have a dance with you— what the," he seethed, "what is this royal bastard doing?! sending you these and- and a dance?! hyung didn't you tell him she was married?" he asked, voice going an octave higher.
"well he did use 'mrs. jung', so he should've known." yeosang quipped, back to eating his breakfast.
"hongjoong?" you asked him unsurely. he took the paper from wooyoung's hand, reading the content quickly before putting it down.
"we need this connection." he sighed, but proceed to look up to you, "how about you? are you okay with this? i know this is important and we kinda don't have a choice, but i wanna know how you feel about this. don't do it if you're not comfortable." he made sure, eyes glimmering with hesitation. you just nod, though hesitating, you sure want to give the best.
"we have no choice." you murmured agreeing with him.
"uh, excuse me? i'm her husband? shouldn't i be the one saying that?" wooyoung cut in the conversation, still salty and filled with jealousy.
"ooh, the green monster is showing." one of the boys said, inducing laughter.
hongjoong just chuckled. "hey, no one is in fault in here. i told him she was married, y/n explained to him that you are, no doubt, her husband." he explained.
"you do you, woo. watch on your wife, but remember," he pressed on his last word, "business is business. keep it professional. and i see there's a pair of matching masquerade mask in there. i think it speaks a lot."
standing up, hongjoong clasped his hands together, gathering his voice before announcing, "tonights is the start of the gala week. prepare yourselves, show up all clean, be ready, and be at your best behavior. i expect the best out of all of us. we're leaving at five this evening."
he raised his cup of morning tea, proposing a toast.
"to our glory."
the whole day, wooyoung has been pouting, seething, if not drowning in jealousy over the morning shenanigans. it was bound to happen anyway, with how possessive he could be. not that you're complaining, that side of him could lead to many passionate things to your marriage life.
passionate arguments, and even more passionate endings, fiery make ups.
you constantly teased him, drawing even more crinkle on his face leading to you laughing. he was still upset, but it went moderate when you found that juyeon not only included a pair of matching mask, but also a matching tie to your dress for wooyoung's attire, in which wooyoung complained with a ‘tie and a dress? that’s hardly fair.’
in the end, you both had to use the gift well.
"fuck, that royal bastard has a good taste, too." he murmured, on today's evening while waiting for you on the living room.
he was trying his best to still look upset, keyword trying. the only thing that made him angry in the first place was the fact some other guy gave you something personal; but can he truly stay mad when you look this good?
it was a long black dress, his favorite color. a sleeveless dress with a halter style top and a choker neckline. the piece being backless and having an absolutely low cut on the front part did not help at all, only accentuating the curves of your breasts. the only cute thing the dress provided was the frilly tulle skirt. the pair of earrings and bracelet only made you shine brighter, giving you that elegant look.
and it didn't help you the way wooyoung look with his all black suit and a tie matching to your black dress. his usually messy hair was now tied up. the rolex he got sat nicely on his wrist, giving him that professional look. as if he wasn't ravishing enough to begin with in his usual baggy t-shirt and sweatpants, he had to rub his handsomeness to your face this way.
"you look absolutely ravishing, wife," he couldn't help but blurt out, eyes still watching you like a hawk watching on its prey. he landed a smooth kiss on the back of your hand.
"and so are you, husband." you smirked. you boldly reach out, pulling on his neck to land a playful kiss on his lips which he happily returned.
"please, for the love of god, get a room."
at this point, none of the boys' complaints got into any of your brains. hand in hand, and still stars trucked, you both got into the designed rolls royce. you thought the sunset looked nice that day, but all wooyoung see was you, all the way to the lee family mansion.
the lee family mansion, to say it was nicely decorated wouldn't do any justice.
everything was decorated in a golden brown hue, the lights were set in a yellow tone. just from the lobby you could faintly hear a classical music played by orchestra, and you could see some art pieces here and there, the ones that were guarded and, maybe, were lent from museum.
talking about old money.
there are some guests chatting just around the corner of the great hall, while the rest busy themselves waltzing around in the middle of the room with their respective partners.
"tiger in. is everybody in the room?"
hongjoong's voice came through each of your ear pieces. you and wooyoung look at each other before nodding, confirming that you hear the same thing. pressing a button, you each confirmed of your presence.
"yeon in."
"uno in."
"mars in."
"lion in."
"howl in."
"bear in."
"fox in."
lastly, you spoke, "ocean in."
"remember. behave. dance or talk around, make new allies, and observe. dismissed." hongjoong's voice once again blasted, before a light beep came through, ending the conversation.
from the corner of your eyes you could faintly see the members starting to scatter around the room, some in pairs, some alone. your arm was still intertwined with wooyoung, as he lead you further into the great hall.
"i think we have some time for us." wooyoung remarked, stopping in near the dancing crowd. stepping in front of you, he offered his hand. "what do you say? shall we dance?"
smirking, you accepted his hand. "lead the way, husband."
he hold your hand in his, while his other hand rested on your waist. you put your other hand on his shoulder. he lead you both to the middle of the dancing crowd, feet tapping to the music as he swayed you in his arms.
wooyoung was undoubtedly a good dancer. he lead you in such a way you were easily swayed and moved, as if your muscles became his to move around. he spin you around, eliciting chuckles from the both of you when your tulle twirled with your movement. once again his hand landed on your waist, pulling you close to his body.
"you're so beautiful." he whispered.
"and you're so handsome. how many times more are we going to have this conversation?" you ask amusedly.
"until i forget how beautiful you are."
he lowered his eyes, taking your whole attire. the dress, the black with gold stripes mask similar to his adorning your eyes, the soft velvet gloves encasing your hands— you looked stunning. you looked so stunning he couldn't help his hand to go higher, resting it on your bare back, giving it a gentle squeeze. his breath went heavier as he felt your smooth skin under his palm.
you hissed upon his touch, hot against your skin. "woo—" you warned.
"i need you," he exhaled, "god, i need you so desperately. you're so beautiful it's driving me insane." he spoke breathily.
"baby, we're at work." you reminded him of the reality, but it didn't seem to bother him at all as he moved his lips near your ears, his breath ghosted around as he lightly nip your earlobe.
"it'll be quick, i promise. i'll make it good." his grip on your back went tighter, "please," he begged.
he moved his head back, staring at your eyes and lips for a second. lust were clear in his eyes, from behind his mask. he dived for your lips, kissing you lightly, though you know he's holding himself back so much as you were both in a middle of a crowd, while at work. the kiss might be light and seemly innocent, but not with the way he bit your lower lip when he pulled back, alluring you with his lustful gaze.
he pleaded once again.
in which you could no longer keep your stance, nor your needs, nor your sanity. a whispered yes escaped your lips, and he was fast in pulling you away from the crowd, away from the great hall, practically running to the farthest and quietest bathroom. patience be damned, as thin as ice when he backed you up against each hallway, kissing and groping each other as if there's no tomorrow.
thank the lees for having such a big bathroom.
wooyoung basically pushed you inside the room, making your waist hit the cabinet as he locked the room.
oh, the primal look in his eyes.
he took of his mask, threw it somewhere across the room. you did the same. he stepped forward, claiming your lips with his once again, this time with no restraint as no one was around. you could hear your breaths racing, the messy smacking of your lips against his, raising heat to your face and your insides.
"baby," you pulled, trying hard to hold him, "baby we gotta be quick," you reminded him.
he just nodded. "turn around for me." and you obeyed him, turning around to face the huge mirror in front of you. "watch us baby. don't take your eyes off the mirror." he commanded.
and you did.
you watched as he stared at you through the mirror, his hands busy in picking up your tulle skirt revealing your black panties. you picked your skirt from his hand, bunching some of the fabric in your hands, putting it aside.
he slid his hand through your (already soaked) panties, and you involuntarily closed. "eyes open, baby girl." he gripped your jaw. he quickly pulled his zipper, lowering both his underwear and pants just enough to let his dick out. you couldn't see it, the anticipation of it filling you, until you could feel him putting your panties aside, teasing your other lips with his tip before he pushed his dick inside your walls, up to the brim and stilling, catching his breath.
"stop fluttering around me," he whined feeling your walls massaging his cock nicely. "fuck, so tight."
you were already a moaning mess by the time he slowly moved.
"faster, woo," you begged already letting the greed take over. his faint smirk was visible through the mirror.
the snapping movement he created was so good you almost lost balance, but he caught you just in time as he brought his body closer to you, trapping you between the cabinet and himself. he put his hand near your stomach on the cabinet to save you from further unwanted pain, as he laid his head against yours, lips right beside your ears.
"my good girl, so dirty, so in love with me she'd let me take her in someone else's bathroom, at work," he groaned into your ears. "your moans are so pretty, baby. here i thought the dress was the only pretty thing on you."
praising or degrading, at this point you have no idea. not with how delicious his cock glided around your velvet walls. not with how his lips playfully glided across the column of neck, giving feathery kisses.
"y-you're fucking me so good, woo," you moaned out.
"yeah? always giving the best for my girl, no?" he asked you, and you nod obediently.
"look at how beautiful you are now, y/n." he gripped your jaw, forcing you to keep your eyes open, "other men might give you this dress, and this dress looked so damn good on you, yes,"
so this is what it was about. partly.
"but only i can make you moan so pretty like this. make your pretty pussy flutter, make your face contort in pleasure prettily when i give you those mind blowing orgasm," he taunted, "only my dick can please you, filling you up with my cum the way you like it."
a loud moan slipped through you agape mouth, amusing wooyoung. "you always loved my cum, don't you? filling you up to the brim. fuck, could get you all round and pregnant. would you like that?"
"yes, yes, yes!"
"yes what, baby?"
"give me your babies, fill me up, i'll be pregnant for you, fuck!" you cried out, feeling the hot wave on your lower parts, "fuck baby, i'm—" your brain short circuited stopping your words, completely replacing it with louder moans.
"you're gonna walk around and dance around with my cum inside you. i don't want a bit of it spilled out. want you to remember that you're carrying me inside of you while you talk and move around with other men." he seethed. he slipped his hand under your skirt, easily found your clit and pressed it with his thumb, making fast figure eights on it.
you desperately turned your face, hand going behind you to pull him by the cheek closer to your face, wanting to kiss him so bad. he captured your lips in a messy kiss, creating strings of saliva as both tongue danced around. he fastened his movement when he felt your pussy fluttering around him and your moans getting messier, which only mean you're close.
you came with a loud moan, your essence wetting his dick and some dripping down your thighs. wooyoung chased his high, groaning loudly when he stilled, making sure he put his cum deep inside you.
"clench baby. keep it inside." he inquired as he pulled out slowly. he quickly put your panties back, getting some tissue from the cabinet to wipe the rest of your essence on your legs as well from his overly wet dick, before putting it back to its place.
he zipped himself up before helping you to stand properly, straightening your skirt to put it back to its proper state, then smiled as if you both didn't just sin in someone else's bathroom. you were still dazed and catching your breath. turning around, you circled your hands around his neck, pulling him for a sweet soft kiss for a cherry on top.
a ringtone blasted from wooyoung's phone, breaking the kiss.
"shit, it's hongjoong hyung." he cussed, but still pressing the green button, "hello?"
"where the fuck are you? and where's y/n? why aren't you both answering to your receivers?" hongjoong's voice blasted from the speaker so loud wooyoung flinched and had to put his phone away from his ears, trying not to be deaf in such a young age.
"hyung, chill, we were just stepping out for... a fresh air." he made up while holding back his own laugh. hongjoong might be absolutely mad over this shenanigans, but it's so worth it.
"get back here asap. juyeon's asking for y/n. and i've sent everyone out to look for yo—"
and just then, the door bursted open, revealing jongho and his face, contorting in disgust when he finally realize the scene happening in front of him.
"in the middle of work? really?" wooyoung could only throw a sheepish smile. he sighed, before answering to his earpiece, "found the two lovebirds. in a damn bathroom so far in the east wing doing god knows what." he almost gagged.
jongho stepped backwards, "let's go. y/n's wanted."
"never knew bathroom air could be so fresh." someone quipped through the receiver.
the crowd in the great hall once again welcomed you. you caught hongjoong and juyeon in the line of your sight, and you knew it was your cue to go. sharing one more quick kiss with wooyoung, you departed for the two men, leaving wooyoung and jongho behind.
you threw juyeon a sweet smile, "evening mr. lee. what a great party you have here."
"and attended by a great person, too. i see you're putting my token of goodwill to good use." he remarked, taking your hand and landing a kiss there. "and i hope this a way to say yes to a dance with me?"
"it's a yes, sir."
juyeon smiled back, excusing you and himself to hongjoong before leading you to the dance floor. his movement was slightly stiffer than wooyoung's but he proved to still able to lead a dance. never having to stood this close to another man made you feel nervous, obvious to your awkward touch on his shoulder.
juyeon watched your awkward body language with an amused grin on his face, "lighten up, mrs. jung. i can promise you it's not my intention to create any problem between our relationship. especially so early like this."
"so you're planning to do it in the future, then?" you teased, in which he replied with a curt smile.
"i hope not. i'd like to make friends more than foes."
you followed his lead in the dance, lightening up yourself before juyeon as you both chatted. lee juyeon is as smooth as he is light with his lips, in contrast to his usual hard look and rumored harsh personality. despite you being the one who had to approach him and initiate alliance, he talked more and eased the air around, sometimes even joking around.
after a while, you finally decided to push the topic you've been dreading for the past week. "so what do you think, mr. lee? of my proposal, alliance between us?" you asked, anxiety churning in the pit of your stomach.
juyeon went quiet upon your sudden intrusion, and you thought maybe you were too fast on confronting the issue. his eyes wandered around the room, trying to escape your gaze, you presumed. however he tightened his grip on you, bringing you closer to him.
"i actually have considered it, and i think it's a nice proposal, but," he stopped for a while, "i must make sure that this will work, the lees and ateez. so i can't just accept you working under my family just like that," he continued.
your heart almost dropped, and maybe so did your face behind the mask.
"however, i have a way to do that." he spoke again, and you quickly raised your head, awaiting his next response.
"look to your left. your nine o'clock." he commanded. you slightly turned to your left, eyeing the part of the room he mentioned. he then stated, "see the man in black and white suit, a black diamond pin on his necktie and plain black mask?"
you nodded, confirming that you saw the same man.
"his name is kim younghoon, from seoul kim family. ever heard of them?"
"yes. another mafia royal family. almost like your family, i think."
"not as mighty as mine, but yes." he asserted.
"what about them?" you questioned.
juyeon took a deep breath, readying himself as he explained. "the lees and the kims have been an ally for many generations. but unfortunately, after the thing... between my dad and lee jiyoung, it sort of created a gap between us." he added, "most of their families were supporters of my aunt." you nodded.
"their fields are similar to ateez's biggest industry at the moment. meds, drugs, et cetera. you'd found common ground with them and ateez will grow more. here's where you came in handy." he remarked, "i want you to act as a third party between our families. fix things between us. i'll introduce you to kim younghoon, pass you up for a dance. you'll work with them, and if your work is good, your bond with them will automatically be stronger, however, they won't be able to ignore the fact that i was the one that brought you to them."
"a good work to the kims means a good work for me and my family. a good work with the kims and lees means you have connections to two of the most powerful mafia families. a win-win, a perfect domino effect, don't you think?" he proposed.
you furrowed your brows.
truthfully, juyeon was right. it would be like hitting two birds with one stone. the lees are ruler of the south, and the kims held most part of seoul, not to mention the amount of their members that entered the politics and industries.
you’ve heard yeosang mentioning the kims more than twice. how they owned many hospitals, many other companies as well, but putting their drug company as their main family business. the kims are born from a line of doctors, professors of medicinal world, as well as businessmen dan businesswomen. some of them are even took part in the government’s ministry of health office, to maintain free passage for their own business. they don’t take much part in the dirty work within the mafia world, but they were still influential enough within it.
“taking a sweet time, aren’t we?”
“i’ll take the offer.” you quickly blurted out.
juyeon stared at your face, your eyes, trying to find any faults, any sign of hesitation, as this was considerably a hard job for a rookie no matter how easy it sounded. yet all he was met was a pair piercing eyes staring right back at him. “i won’t pull back. just like what i said before.”
the music stopped, just after you said your last word. you both bowed at each other, ending the first dance session perfectly. taking his offered hands to you, he led you away from the dance floor right to your awaiting guest. you walked just slightly behind him, letting juyeon take all the lead.
juyeon tapped on the said man’s shoulder when you stepped behind him.
juyeon let out a curt smile when kim younghoon turned around to face him. “kim younghoon,” he greeted shortly.
“juyeon.” younghoon replied just as short with a smile on his face. “nice party.”
juyeon hummed, “never a boring party with the lees.”
the cold and thick atmosphere between the two were unmistakable, clear to anyone’s eyes who dared to observe. juyeon and his piercing gaze, kim younghoon as his calm demeanor, yet straight eyes and body language, keeping his dominant persona in check.
when juyeon realized the meaningless chit-chat would lead nowhere, he pulled you forward placing you right beside him. “this is mrs. jung y/n of ateez. i told you about her just before the gala, remember?”
upon the introduction, you quickly bowed at kim younghoon out of courtesy. you wouldn’t dare to stare yet, but you could see him offering you a warm smile and a bow just from the corner of your eyes.
“i do remember.”
“well, in my opinion you should offer her a dance. she’s a great dancer, from my short yet unforgettable experience,” juyeon had said, pulling you even further for you to stand before kim younghoon. “she follows exceptionally well.” he implied.
“then i should find out by myself.”
he offered juyeon one last bow out of courtesy, which juyeon replied back with one. juyeon stepped back, before turning around and completely disappear from both of your presence to give you a space of your own.
a counting tap was heard, indicating the start of the next dance session. younghoon offered his hand to you, “may i?”
you took his hand in you just when the music started, and he quickly led the dance, bringing you to the middle of the dancefloor between the crowd.
it started off awkwardly, as you racked your brain, thinking hardly of what to say, of how to start a conversation at all. lifting your gaze, you were met with younghoon’s pair of soft brown eyes, already staring at you.
oh. oh. you felt something tugging in your stomach as your brain remembered and tried to recall the deja vu you just had. those brown eyes. the garden, the sound of your breath hitching.
“you…” your words were stuck, as you were stunned.
the man in the garden, your helper, your savior, was none other than kim younghoon.
younghoon smiled, you could see his eyes curved into a crescent from behind his mask making his brown eyes shine even brighter.
“miss,” he greeted softly. “i finally know your name now, y/n.”
what kind of coincidence was this?
also i almost lost my whole document (fic bits, drafts, etc) bc i stupidly brought my phone to the pool and now it's dead.
* jipsa; butler
* abeoji; father (sorta formal)
ok i think i might start aiming to write >5k for each chapter so WE. CAN. GET. IT. DONE.
also i feel like i'm gonna focus more on younghoon, juyeon, y/n and hongjoong in the next chapter bc i need to start building the plot up.
I HOPE U ENJOY
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