jjoongstar

[jjoongstar]

Strange Roommates

Synopsis: Sanzu Haruchiyo, Bonten’s unpredictable second-in-command, is tasked with investigating suspicious activity surrounding one of their ports in a district just outside central Tokyo. Determined to catch the culprits without raising alarms, he decides the best move is to stay close, close enough to observe without being seen. He finds the perfect apartment building near the port. The problem? Every unit is already taken. The only option left is to share one with a stranger—you—who just happens to be looking for a roommate. It’s inconvenient. It’s risky. But Sanzu will do whatever it takes to complete his mission, even if it means pretending to be just another tenant. Even if there’s something strange about you. Because in this apartment, secrets don’t knock. They move in.

sanzu haruchiyo x fem!reader | cw: crime, blood, violence, explicit content | happy ending? who knows?

I. And They Were Roommates

II. The Lady Of The House

III. To Hunt

IV. To Be Hunted

V. Temporary Shelter, Permanent Feelings

This work is entirely fictional and written by me. Please do not copy, repost, translate, or claim it as your own on any platform.

[jjoongstar]

HARARWHHSHSHS WGW the wayy this got me giggling sooooooo much i-🥰🥰🥰 its been so long since i read tr fics, especially sanzu my beloved 🥹 i swear this is gonna my utmost favv and will bring this up wherever i go. I LOVE THIS SM PLS PLSSSSS I BEG CONTINUE MOREE ITS A NEEDD😭😭🙏🙏

I. And They Were Roommates

Sanzu Haruchiyo is sent to investigate suspicious activity at one of Bonten’s ports just outside Tokyo. The job should be clean and quiet but first, he needs a place to stay close to the site. He finds a nearby apartment building, but every unit is full—except one. The catch? It already has a tenant... who’s looking for a roommate. sanzu haruchiyo x fem!reader | cw: mention of drugs, violence, blood, 18+ Strange Rooommates masterlist.

The grating scream of a man bounces off the walls of the wide warehouse, but it isn’t enough to drown out the maniacal laughter that follows. If a normal person happened to walk by, the bone-chilling noises alone would be enough to make it clear that someone is being painfully delivered to their doom. More cries of agony reverberate alongside the clanging of metal, and then, finally, after one final blow, the warehouse falls silent.

"Are they done? I've got somewhere to be."

The first to break the silence is Haitani Rindou, his purplish eyes flicking toward the door where the torture is taking place. He isn’t asking anyone in particular, but Kokonoi Hajime answers without looking up from his tablet.

"Calm your ass down," he mutters, eyes fixed on the screen streaming a live feed of their men unloading a shipment at one of their ports. "We still got a meeting after."

"Tsk. Then can we just start? They already wrapped up. Let's not waste time." He eyes the door again, even though the silence beyond it already suggests they're done. Still, there's no sign of his brother or the other executives emerging from the torture room. He turns to Kokonoi, who's now thumbing through something on his screen.

"Koko—"

"Why are you so itchy to go to your club, Haitani? It’s fucking broad daylight. No one's gonna show up to party," Kokonoi says flatly, finally meeting Rindou's annoyed look.

Rindou just rolls his eyes, pulls a cigarette from his pocket, and is about to fire back when heavy footsteps echo from behind the torture room door.

"Maybe he's just itching to fuck one of the strippers there."

All their heads turn to the bloodied figure of Sanzu Haruchiyo stepping in. A cigarette dangles between his scarred lips, irises blown wide, clear signs he's still high off the torture session he just finished. Behind him is Haitani Ran, suit still pristine and clean, though his hands glisten with blood, and Kakucho who trails behind, wiping his face with a cloth.

Sanzu flicks his fingers lazily, wordlessly asking for a light. Rindou catches the cue and tosses him a lighter without a word.

"I'm not like you," the younger Haitani mutters coldly.

"Yeah?" Sanzu exhales smoke with a grin. "That's what I said when your brother asked me to snort cocaine off the damn table with him."

"And you did, so who's the bitch now?" Cerulean eyes land on Ran, who’s now lighting his own cigarette beside his brother, middle finger raised in the air just for Sanzu to catch.

Akashi Takeomi, who looks outwardly unbothered but is just as impatient as Rindou, finally speaks up to steer them back toward the meeting Kokonoi announced.

Kokonoi lifts his gaze to their boss, who's been sitting silently atop one of the massive cargo containers the entire time. If not for the slow, lazy chewing of his food, Sano Manjiro could've been mistaken for a statue. He doesn’t respond to Kokonoi's cue, but a subtle tilt of his head is enough to give the go-ahead.

Kokonoi clears his throat and officially starts the meeting.

"Someone's ratting on us—or should I say, some people are betraying us."

Tension has never been unusual within Bonten. Wherever they are, whoever they're with, they're always armed with it. A kind of weight that makes anyone outside the top brass instantly aware they're in the presence of the most feared criminals in the country—even without threats or guns.

But after Kokonoi stated that there are people bold enough to stab them in the back, that tension thickens. Heavier. Sharper.

This isn't something to brush off.

Because the word traitor isn't just frowned upon in Bonten—it’s judged. Brutally. It's a grave sin. And no prayer, no plea, and no fucking luck will save the bastards who choose to cross them.

That rule is engraved in all of them like an oath. A permanent truth.

And every single person in this warehouse will make sure judgment is served. Especially Sanzu.

"Fuck you mean, rattin' on us?" Ran asks.

"Exactly what it sounds like," Kokonoi answers, picking up his churchwarden pipe. He decides it's his turn to smoke, so with practiced ease, he chars the top of the tobacco and takes a slow inhale.

"Some bastards have been snooping around our shipments at the port outside Tokyo. I didn't catch it at first. On paper, everything looked flawless. The counterfeits were marked as delivered to the right people, right locations. But then some of our patrons started complaining—wrong shipments, missing product, or quality gone to shit." He exhales through his nose, jaw tightening.

"So I went back and traced the documents myself. That's when it got messier. Some of the goods weren't what we shipped. Some weren't even delivered at all. The records said they were. The receiving documents said they weren't. Either our men forgot how to do basic math, or someone's tampering with the books and covering their tracks."

The tension doesn't lift. If anything, it sharpens as Kokonoi speaks.

How dare they snoop around and think they won't get caught? To pull this shit in their own territory?

This is more than just theft. For Sanzu, this is plain disrespect. Like spitting in their faces while laughing.

He doesn't speak, but the clench of his jaw is a clear indication that he's already thinking about the punishments these rats will face once he catches them. What started as brutal intentions swirling in his mind while Kokonoi spoke has now shifted into something worse—something far more violent than death. Because killing them would be too easy. They don't deserve that. Not when they made the choice to betray them.

"How sure are you that our men at the port are behind this?" Takeomi’s voice cuts through the smoke surrounding his face.

"We've got signs, and they're all pointing inward. The records, the transmittals, the paperwork—these are things that can only be touched, seen, signed, and changed by people inside our port," Kokonoi replies, his tone steady. "The only outside interference I've seen are the complaints from clients. Other than that, everything is internal. So it's an inside job."

"Then what's the plan, Hajime?" For the first time today, Bonten's king speaks. His voice cuts through the air, colder than the concrete beneath their feet.

A deafening silence follows, the rest of them waiting for him to speak again.

"If you believe these people are robbing us, then you should already have a plan. Don't you?"

"Of course, boss," Kokonoi replies smoothly. "I've already devised a plan to smoke out the rats gnawing at our property."

He suddenly locks eyes with Sanzu—a silent look that says this mission will be his to carry. Not that Sanzu would protest. Catching rats has always been his game. This should be a piece of cake.

"The plan is simple. One of us will go there to investigate and gather as much information as possible."

"Wait, Koko," Rindou interrupts, stepping on the filter of his cigarette. "Why do we need to do that? If we already know there are traitors, why waste time sniffing around when we can just ambush the port and kill them?"

Sanzu acknowledges Rindou's suggestion. There’s no point in poking around when the evidence is already there. He can't help himself from chiming in.

"I agree with that shithead, Kokonoi," Sanzu says, earning a muttered "fuck you" from the younger Haitani, one he doesn't bother to acknowledge as he continues speaking.

"Rats are meant to be killed. We're wasting time investigating those asshats when we can just grab them and slice them up. Make an example out of them, hang their corpses on every port gate so the rest think twice before pulling shit like this."

Eyes narrowing with a twisted grin, Sanzu inhales the last of his cigarette before flicking the filter aside. "Fear works faster than suspicion. You know that."

"Hell yeah. And we want them to get scared and bolt out of the port the second they hear we're coming to ambush them."

That’s when Sanzu's wicked grin falters slightly, realizing Kokonoi has a point. There's nothing more annoying than rats slipping through his grasp.

"That’s why it’s called an ambush, Koko," Rindou adds. "We go in quiet, open the gates, and surprise! rain bullets on their asses. Duh."

This time, his statement earns some laughter from the other executives. Kakucho, however, just looks at him tiredly and says, "Unless you’re the one paying for all the damages, Rin."

That shuts Rindou up with a dramatic shrug, and even Ran doesn't bother to back his brother this time.

"Then continue with your plan, Kokonoi. Their asses are probably robbing us as we speak."

"Again, the plan’s simple. One of us goes to the port, stays low, blends in, and quietly observes. No one there should know an executive is investigating. We don't want them catching wind and running."

He pauses briefly before continuing. "And the reason we investigate first is because we need to know if someone's backing them up. It could be anyone—from the port, the headquarters, another Bonten territory, or even from the outside. For these traitors to be this bold on our turf? That screams bigger fish. Someone with pull.”

He straightens up, tossing the spent tobacco from his pipe before continuing.

"So we gather everything, stay off their radar, and when we’ve got the full picture—"

"We'll fucking wipe them out." Sanzu cuts in, tone cold and final.

And this mission clearly belongs to him the moment he and Kokonoi lock eyes again. He doesn't need confirmation. He holds the power to decide whether he'll be the one to hunt these bold bastards down.

And he always wants it.

There's nothing more thrilling than a chase, especially when he's the tagger. No one escapes once he sets his calculating eyes on something. And when he learns anything, about someone or something, he always ends up with only two choices: either drag them into ruin or hold them in his grasp, tight enough they'll never slip away.

Because no one escapes Sanzu Haruchiyo.

-

Sanzu didn’t hesitate to accept the mission when it was assigned to him, though a slight reluctance stirred inside when he remembered the port he'd be investigating was all the way on the outskirts of Tokyo. He knew there would be missions he couldn't respond to as quickly, not when he’d be a two-hour drive away. Driving back and forth would be a pain.

This mission also required him to stay as close to the port as possible, so returning to Tokyo was only an option if absolutely necessary. This was his top priority, after all.

So now he's here, standing just outside the port, observing quietly for any unusual movement. The last thing he wants is to raise alarms and let the traitors slip away.

From where he's standing, everything looks normal, no suspicious movement, no strange faces. It's should be this way, of course, because the real conflict is happening on the inside.

This is just his initial sweep. He'll stay put and keep watch, see if anyone unfamiliar shows up. Because Sanzu doesn't believe this level of audacity came from just the men inside.

No, someone else is pulling the strings. Someone bigger.

And when he finally busts that scumbag, oh, he's going to have a field day.

His plan isn't as complicated as it seems. It's just a matter of taking the steps—starting with observing from the outside, then sneaking in to gather the information that will lead him straight to the root of this treachery. This mission should've been a breeze, and he couldn't see any reason it would fail.

However, there's one thing that keeps nagging at the back of his mind. If he wants to reach his goal quickly, he has to stay as close to the port as possible. And he can't do that if he's driving two hours every day. It would be a waste of time and would drain too much of his energy.

He wants to be immediate. To respond the second something feels off. No one and nothing should slip past his line of sight.

Three hours have passed, and nothing suspicious has surfaced. He's already gone through four death sticks—his personal limit for a day. It may not look like it, but Sanzu isn't a heavy smoker like his brother or Rindou. So by the time he reaches his fourth cigarette, he decides that's enough observing for the day.

Time to move to the next step of his plan: find a place nearby to crash.

The hotel he spotted earlier is his choice for the night, so he drives his Yamaha MT-10 in that direction, even though calling it "nearby" feels like a stretch, considering he still has to drive a bit to reach it. It's the best option for now simply because it's the closest. Still, if there was anywhere nearer, he’d take it without question.

The port is clearly set far from the city, surrounded more by residential areas and trees than anything else. But he remembers passing a mid-rise building earlier—not too far from the port and, if he could get a higher floor, possibly a good vantage point to observe or make a quick run to the port if needed—

That thought makes him hit the brakes.

Instead of continuing toward the city, he pulls a quick u-turn and heads back in the direction of the building he saw.

-

His looming figure stands in front of the now-confirmed apartment building. If he walks toward the back, he can see the port not far from here. A quick dash from this spot to the port would take less than a minute. So he's decided, this is where he'll stay for now. There's no place more ideal for this mission than right here.

The inside of the building is straightforward. As soon as he steps in, he spots a small reception desk, where he assumes inquiries are handled. Sitting there is the guard on duty. A passing thought crosses his mind—if he pulled out his gun and pointed it at this poor man, would he lead him to one of the units? Or would he try to fight back? Call the police?

But Sanzu doesn't act on that thought. The last thing he wants is to draw attention, not from the public or the people at the port. So he keeps it normal. He has to.

"Good evening, sir. How can I help you?" the guard asks politely as Sanzu stops in front of him.

"Is there any available space here?" Sanzu doesn't look at the guard, choosing instead to scan the area with narrowed eyes, already calculating entry points and imagining how he’d sneak in if he had to. But that only matters if there's actually a vacant unit. If every space is taken, this idea won't work.

"If you're asking about available units, sir, I can bring you to the landlady. She's in that office," the guard says, pointing at the beige door beside the narrow staircase.

Sanzu simply nods. The guard walks over, knocks, and says, "Ma’am, sorry to bother you, but I have someone here asking about available units." Then he opens the door.

Sanzu sees a small room with a table, a TV, and a sofa. A woman in her mid-fifties, with short curly hair, sits on the couch. Her smile is wide and welcoming.

"Oh, come in!" she says.

Sanzu doesn’t react. He just steps inside as the guard closes the door behind him.

"Good evening. I heard you’re inquiring about a unit?" she asks.

"Yes," Sanzu mutters immediately.

The old woman skims her eyes over Sanzu's tall frame, and he can’t help but wonder if she's suspicious of him. He’s dressed in an all-black suit, wearing a mask, he thinks he can pass as just another regular guy. At least until someone pulls up his coat and sees the holster with two guns, or the knives tucked between his pants and waist. That would be a problem. Not for him, though.

"As much as I want to accommodate you, unfortunately, there's no available unit here anymore. All of them are already occupied," she says softly, her voice gentle, as if trying to let him down easy.

It doesn't surprise Sanzu. He expected this. And though sneaking in had crossed his mind earlier, he reminds himself again, creating a ruckus is the last thing he should do when this mission is supposed to be handled discreetly.

He gives her a small nod and turns to leave when her voice stops him.

"Ah! Ah! I know a unit—wait! Are you planning to stay here long-term or just temporarily?" she asks, her voice shifting back to its cheerful tone like she just came up with a brilliant idea.

"I just need a temporary place."

It doesn't show on his face, but Sanzu's slightly eager about what this woman is about to suggest. He needs a place—and this apartment is the perfect one.

"Okay! Okay! Uhm, if it's just temporary, then you don't mind sharing a unit with someone? Because I have a tenant here who's looking for a roommate. Though she didn't tell me her qualifications for one, if someone's willing, she can be contacted immediately.”

She?

His mind runs through the possibilities of sharing a unit with someone.

It's inconvenient. He'd have to hide his identity every time this potential roommate is around. Risky. And he can't afford that just for a place to stay. No way.

But he's not a criminal for nothing. He didn't become the number two of the most notorious criminal organization in Japan by accident. He helped Bonten rise to the top through all kinds of illegal activity, and deception was just the surface of what he's done. So why the hesitation now? He could spend every second of the day in that apartment with someone and still not reveal a single thing about who he really is.

So, he still kind of considers it. This location is ideal for his investigation, and a spot this close doesn't come often.

"So, if you're interested, you can leave your contact here and I'll talk to her. I'll message you so you two can set something up. She usually gets home around 9 p.m., and I wouldn't want you waiting too long. Just leave your number, and I'll reach out. Sound good?" She smiles again.

He didn't give any answer earlier that confirmed he was interested, and there's no way in hell he'd leave a trace for someone to contact him. But still, the last words he leaves before stepping out the door sound a lot like a maybe.

"I'll just come back tomorrow."

-

The air at the port reeks of salt and metal, filling Sanzu's nostrils. Familiar and unimpressive.

If yesterday he was standing just outside the port's range, far enough to see the containers but not close enough to be noticed—today he's gotten closer. Not too close, though. A stack of crates shields him from view.

Security here is as tight as in their other ports. One unfamiliar face and the whole place would be on alert. But Sanzu isn't unfamiliar. In fact, he's one of the owners of this port. A top brass who controls the movement, the operations, the men who work here.

And yet, that's exactly why he can't be seen. The mission is strict. If anyone notices him lurking around, it might all go to hell.

A cigarette dangles between his lips, tinted glasses shielding his eyes as he observes unnoticed. Everything appears to move like clockwork. Men unloading cargo trucks, labeling crates, counting containers, scanning, logging. Nothing looks out of place.

Until his eyes fix on one worker grumbling about the scorching heat.

He's not alone. Two other men stand with him.

Sanzu spots him not because of his loud complaints, but because of the clipboard in his hands—or more like, the way he's writing something on it. Just like Kokonoi said, those clipboards hold the real-time records of the shipments. That's where the actual movement gets logged. And if anyone were tampering with records, it would be there.

Sanzu watches the man briefly glance at the others. Two of them subtly nod back.

An agreement. Silent, quick, practiced.

The man scribbles something down right after.

"Huh…" Sanzu breathes out a twisted little grin and takes a drag of his cigarette. "These fuckers think they’re so sneaky, huh."

His eyes land on another man lingering too long beside a crate. This one's also holding a clipboard. He glances around, scribbles something quickly on the paper, folds it, then carries on like nothing happened.

Sanzu watches it all unfold right before his eyes, the subtle glances tossed around like coded signals, like their lives aren't going to be on the line once this betrayal is exposed.

And Bonten's second-in-command won't just have a front-row seat to their suffering. He'll be the one delivering the most brutal judgment they'll ever receive.

-

The day passed, and the only suspicious activity Sanzu witnessed was that subtle exchange between those bastards. After that, he wasn't sure what happened, because all of them went inside the warehouse—where sneaking in would be much harder due to the tight security. He doesn't know what went down in there, but he’s sure something did. Still, he’ll leave it for now, until he can devise a proper plan to slip inside unnoticed.

After grabbing a bite at a shokudō, he drives his bike back to the apartment building he visited the night before. His watch reads 9 PM, the time the landlady mentioned the unit owner usually arrives.

He parks his Yamaha in front of the building and hops off to enter. As he steps inside, he's greeted by the same guard, who at first stands up abruptly, only to relax when Sanzu speaks.

"Is the landlady here?"

"She's here, sir. You can knock on her office and she’ll let you in." The guard politely gestures toward the door.

Sanzu walks over and knocks. The moment he hears a "Come in!" from inside, he opens the door without hesitation.

"Oh, y-you are...?" The landlady greets him with a smile, but confusion and a bit of wariness start to stretch across her face.

"I was here last night."

"Oh! The man who was inquiring about a unit. Alright, alright!" She laughs, and the confusion fades instantly.

Still, Sanzu notices her eyes linger a bit too long on his face—particularly around his mouth. He doesn't mind. It's not unusual when people look at his diamond scars.

"Yes. Is she here? The one looking for a roommate?"

Sanzu is still skeptical about this plan of his. He's still weighing the risks of living with a stranger. However, it's not like he'll be staying here for long or spending the whole day inside the apartment. He'll just use it to gain an advantage in his investigation.

And if he ends up learning that there's no issue with this whole "roommate thing," then maybe he'll agree to it.

"Oh, she just got home! I'll give her a call to let her know you're here. Just wait a second. Sit down." She gestures toward the sofa as she stands and walks over to the telephone. Sanzu takes a seat.

"Y/N-chan! He's here—the one I told you about last night. I said he'd come back, and I think he might be interested—Oh, you'll come down? Alright, alright! Okay, be careful running down the stairs!"

She sets the phone down, smiling warmly at Sanzu. "She said she’ll be right down. She’s on the 8th floor—the top floor—so it might take a while... or not. She usually runs down the stairs and gives me a heart attack every time."

The landlady rambles on about the qualities of the apartment, but Sanzu couldn't care less. As long as it's clean, he'll take it.

Shortly after, he hears the door open, revealing a woman with a smile already plastered on her face.

"Ina-san! I'm here! Where is he?"

Sanzu stands, eyes already fixed on you. He sizes you up quickly and can tell honesty to himself that you're pretty. In fact, even prettier when you walk up close.

You're much smaller than him and, well—cute, especially when you look up at him and smile. Whatever. You look decent. That's what he can say.

"Hi, good evening. You are?"

"Haruchiyo."

He isn't sure if revealing his real name was intentional. Almost no one calls him that, and he sure as hell doesn't let them, yet it slips out anyway. Maybe because it's not as well known as his surname, so giving his first name feels safer.

"Nice to meet you, Haruchiyo-kun. I'm Y/N. Ina-san told me you're looking for a unit? Though you didn't leave your contact information last night, so I was a bit skeptical if you were actually interested. But since you came back, maybe you are? Do you want to see the unit first? I mean, I'm looking for a roommate. Don't worry, it's a big one, a two-bedroom unit, a-and—"

"Yeah, I’m interested."

Again, he didn't know if it was intentional. His initial plan was to see if this would be a good idea, yet he blurted out that he's interested. He can justify it by telling himself he just wanted to cut off your rambling, because you seem so nervous.

Whatever.

"If you'd like, you can see the unit first, then we can start there," you say, the smile never leaving your face as you point toward the door. Though your subtle look around didn't go unnoticed by him, you swiftly turn your eyes back to him as he steps out before you.

-

Both of you walk upstairs, keeping your words to yourselves, and silence stretches as you quietly proceed up the floors. In fact, it's too quiet. Even breathing, especially footsteps, can barely be heard between the two of you.

From his peripheral vision, you're just normally walking beside him, so he slightly delays his pace, letting you walk ahead a bit, silently indicating that you should lead the way.

And as he follows you silently, his focus stays fixated on how quiet you walk. Too quiet. Like a cat whose footsteps are so soft on the floor. If you sneaks around someone’s back, they wouldn't notice you until they accidentally step on your feet.

His thoughts are cut off when you suddenly speak.

"I chose the top floor because the view there is amazing. You can see the main city, the subtle lights from the buildings of Tokyo—and also the port."

He almost snorts when you mention the port. If only you knew that the sole reason he's staying here is because of that place.

"Now, we're here. My unit's over there, the last one."

You point at the last door. He simply nods and quietly follows you down the hallway. His eyes lock again on the way you walk, and he realizes—

Even when you're ahead, your steps match his. Too quiet. Too sneaky.

You stop in front of a beige-white door and unlock it with ease. When you push it open, a wide living room comes into view.

"This is my unit." You step inside, slipping your shoes off. But before you go all the way in, you turn your head to the left, grab something, and hold it out in front of Sanzu.

"Slippers first. I just mopped the floors this morning."

He quietly removes his leather shoes and slips on the green house slippers you gave him.

As you flick the light switch on, the clean and simple design of your living room is revealed. It's bigger than he expected, and this kind of space could definitely accommodate two adults living together.

His eyes roam around the area. He notices the two doors that likely lead to bedrooms, one bathroom, and a kitchen with a small counter. But what really catches his attention is the wide glass window, giving him a perfect view of the very thing he came here to observe. He can't help the smirk that creeps onto his face. He didn't think staying in an apartment could ever be this thrilling.

Though his smile disappears the second you speak again. He turns his head, not expecting you to already be watching him, your eyes confidently meeting his.

You begin to ramble about the rules and regulations of the apartment, as well as your unit, but he doesn't quite catch everything. His mind has already wandered somewhere else, toward thoughts about you.

You're not weird. If anything, he's the one who's far from normal.

But there's something strange about how welcoming you are, considering he's a complete stranger. A dangerous one. A man who could kill without blinking, someone who shouldn't be trusted within your walls.

Most people cower in his presence. Just his stare alone is enough to make grown men piss themselves. He doesn't even need to say who he is or what he does.

He also noticed, though they tried to hide it, how the guard on the ground floor stiffened the second he saw him. Even the landlady's smile didn't quite reach her eyes. She looked cautious. Like she could sense something was off.

But then there's you. So relaxed. So welcoming. And the way you hold his gaze without the slightest flicker of fear… somehow, it weirds him out.

Would that expression of yours change into horror if he revealed who you were really fronting with? A full-blown criminal who sits at the top of the most dangerous organization in Japan.

But then again, there’s no reason for him to do that.

What for? He's here to stay discreet, and once this mission is done, that's the only time he'll reveal his true skin. Only the traitors who stained Bonten’s name will witness it—his victims. Not you—a normal roommate.

"And please, please, if you'll go outside, always— I mean always—switch off the lights, okay?"

That's the only thing he caught, the only part he really understood, when you finally finished your babbling.

"When do I pay you?"

He hears you laugh, like what he said is as funny as the whole fucked-up setup he's let himself into.

"I already paid the rent for this month. And since you're not renting the whole place, you don't need to pay advance or deposit. Just pay me after this month. But!"—you run to the refrigerator, where papers are stuck with ref magnets. You grab one and walk back to him—"You're helping me pay these bills."

"Alright."

He hears your gleeful hum.

"So, when will you move in?" you ask as he walks toward the wide window. He unties the curtain and shifts it, not fully open, just enough for him to peek through.

"Tomorrow."

"I can't help you with your things since I have work. But I'll leave you this key so you can enter the unit."

Oh, how naive you are. So trusting, letting the devil walk right into your space. But you're not his target, so you won't be dragged into this chaos. You're just a bystander who'll never get the chance to know who he really is beyond the walls of this apartment.

"Also, your room is the one on the left, okay?"

He'll make sure that even a sliver of truth about him never slips. Because from tomorrow until the day he vanishes from this place, he's just a normal tenant.

"Okay."

He finishes pulling the curtain shut. When he turns back around, your lips slowly shifts into a smile.

"Well, welcome to the unit, roommie."

How strange.

This work is entirely fictional and written by me. Please do not copy, repost, translate, or claim it as your own on any platform.

taglist: @bandwh0re, @sob4, @akkahelenaa

[jjoongstar]

SANZU FIC IN THE BIG 2025?!?!? RAGEGSHHSBS THIS GOT ME IN FEET SMM😩 plsss i love my man smm i miss him and this is such a banger I LOVEEEE THANKYOU😻

please, xanny | sanzu h.

classification: confidential (dark content).

pairings: bonten! sanzu haruchiyo x reader

genre: psychological drama, romance, trauma fiction, angst, character study

status: ongoing

warnings: 18+ only. contains mature and potentially triggering themes, explicit language, alcoholism, drug consumption, mental illnesses, and moral deterioration. proceed with care and precaution.

── .✦ The circumstances weren’t in your favor — but then again, when did it ever sided with you? With Sanzu Haruchiyo back in your life — all over the place and crumbling — you wonder for the nth time if your DNA was somehow coded with misfortune for you to bear the crushing weight of this spiraling connection with him; festering, explosive, and marring. Why you even bother is the biggest mystery you’re both yet to uncover.

tag/s: corporate rot, co-dependence, pa! reader x bonten! sanzu haruchiyo, moral ambiguity, SA attempt, drugs and addiction, graphic depiction of violence, abuse (emotional, physical), manipulation, personal assistant x criminal/exec sanzu, criminal activity, implications of domestic violence, canon divergence, trauma bonding, sanzu haruchiyo as his own warning, he falls first and falls even harder it turns into madness, angst, more angst, fluff, comfort, angst ending, dead dove: do not eat

author’s note 𓍼ོ hello! so here’s the rewritten first chapter of the fanfic i wrote last 2021. let me know your thoughts hehe enjoy lovies!! xoxo, yna

── .✦ playlist

what was it? was it the alcohol? was it the food you ate earlier? maybe it was spoiled, or worse, maybe it was drugged? perhaps not.

maybe you're just overthinking things.

maybe you're just imagining all of this. to say that you're inloveㅡ no, cross that out, to say that he's in love is dangerous. but how is it that the sanzu haruchiyo, bonten's number 2, is making you feel numerous… things? he reeked of instability, insanity, yet his touch was tender. revering — such a stark contrast to his edges. his being.

say.... have you ever known what it felt like to drive on highways with gnawing trepidation? to taste betrayal and fondness while running on an endless tunnel of vague roads?

to be loved by none other than sanzu haruchiyo?

── .✦

"welcome everyone, to our company's afterparty, please enjoy yourselves for tonight!" your warm and inviting voice echoed through the mounted speakers on every corner of this wide-spaced room; sleek and lavish all perfectly ambient with the dim blues and yellow undertones of the cove lights and pendant bulbs hanging from the high ceilings.

you set down the microphone with a gentle thud on the podium in front and walked down the stairs with elegance. the gentle strobe of led lights changing colors illuminated the floor as you paced the familiar path towards the bar. the distant laughters, chatters, and exclaims blended with the soft sparse and moody melody of the alternative rnb playing in the background.

you did your best to avoid anyone for now despite being the main organizer of this event; it felt too much, your chest felt drained, hollowed that if anyone were to ask you about the current pipelines or your boss' schedule you would instantly snap. maybe it was just the countless sleepless nights taking its toll on you.

you really need that drink now.

from behind you, just beside the stairs, a small, quivering voice managed to squeak out your name, breaking your haphazard trance; loud enough for you to catch it, barely audible for you to fully register what he said. you whipped your head to where he was and raised your eyebrows at him; to which you immediately, maybe , felt bad because he looked even more terrified of you now. you recognized him from the PR department, a new intern? for some reason, they seem to be scared of you, which confused you because you never really raised your voice at anyone in the company.

"the director wants to talk to you, he said to head towards the VIP UB1, over there," he stammered as he pointed the direction behind you.

you almost rolled your eyes. that fucker again.

"did he tell you the reason why he wanted to talk to me?" you asked pointedly with a hint of resignation. yup, maybe it's just the way you look and talk sometimes when exhaustion's the one holding your steering wheel. the boy shook his head as he hastily uttered 'excuse me' before he scurried away. you shut your eyes and pinched the bridge of your nose; irritation and fatigue bubbled within your chest, desperate to implode. your temples throbbed.

for a moment, you had a gnawing dread that this night would be a long one.

with a loud sigh, you continued your pace towards the bar. your boss, the director of this company that you loathed deep down to your core wanted to see you. talk about god knows what. just the mere thought of it made your stomach twist in knots. what does he want with you this time? manipulate and rewrite NDAs? send "gifts" to one of the clients threatening lawsuit? tweak a "few" figures on audit files? or maybe another advance on you again?

"one grey goose martini and a plain cranberry juice. thanks." you sank down on the high swivel bar stool, propped your arm up and massaged your temple. there’s no absolute way you were not going to deal with him sober or without any alcohol in your system. that would be torture. a foot on your throat. you shut your eyes tightly and willed for it to dissipate. it fucking didn’t.

"gee, you look like shit." and there she was.

you turned to look at your friend yuzuha, who slid next to you, whiskey on hand. she was tipsy — flushed cheeks, smudged eyeliners, dilated pupils with unfocused gaze. the sleek bun she wore earlier now had loose strands sticking up, curious flyaways.

"and whose fault was that?" you snapped.

the bartender then slid your drink towards you, and in a beat, you downed it in one go. the familiar burn seared at the back of you throat — sharp vodka and cold acid scraping its way down to your chest; god that stung so good.you grimaced as you grabbed the cranberry juice then chased it away with a gulp, letting the tangy sweetness mellow down the fiery warmth spreading throughout your chest.

“definitely not mine,” yuzuha shrugged dismissively as she drank her remaining whiskey. she then signaled to the bartender to bring two drinks.

your brows knitted in frustration. “you were supposed to host this event, not me. i already had to deal with the pain of organizing this ‘after party’. where even were you?” you spat. you knew you shouldn’t be lashing out on her but god everything was clawing at you. this job — being a personal assistant of a sick and twisted man you had no choice but to obey felt like a dull razor was lodged in your throat.

she turned to face you, amusement evident behind her tired squinted eyes that weighed on your exhaustion. she grinned at you before casually downing the drink the bartender gave her. “araragi holdings.”

“huh?”

“araragi holdings held me up,” she sighed as she looked away from you, her back on the bar counter. “they consulted me with their threshold analysis about the clinical trials that went rogue.” she shrugged, awfully casual.

with just that, the irritation within you subsided and was now replaced with worry. how could you stay mad at her? yuzuha’s been your ride or die since highschool, she’d seen your highs and lows, stood side by side through thick and thin; if anything she’s your safe space here, maybe that’s why your frustration spilled out the moment she arrived.

the comfortable and knowing silence fell between the two of you. presence was enough.

“some fucked up job we have.” you scoffed as you drank another acrid vodka that teared down your throat, cold and piercing. you hopped off the stool with a heavy sigh.

“off to hand in your resignation?”

“yeah… wanna pitch yours too?”

── .✦

you wanted nothing but to get the fuck out of your heels and nail the stiletto on the man sitting in front you — ogling you shamelessly despite having someone sitting on his lap and two other whispering on his both sides. kitamura-san was the bane of your existence.

the mere sight made you nauseous, lightheaded.

“i was told you wanted to discuss something?” niceties like this tasted like bitter blades. you were patient, calm, and polite. a seasoned professional in the field of greed and lust driven predators. you definitely should ask for a raise, hell it should be tripled.

“ah, what a pleasant evening it is to see my favorite darling employee,” kitamura smiled, terrifyingly sweet it made you want to hurl. he stood up and excused himself from the party, away from the people that flocked around him like he’s some god they’d worship. what a fucking joke.

he flaunted himself as the most generous, caring, and hard-working man he wanted people to see.

“let’s go, darling.” and that alone was worse than the sharp drag of any alcohol down your throat. his cold and calloused hands wrapped around your wrists and before you could even protest he was already dragging you out of there; you could feel the sharp daggers some people threw at you, the murmurs; it didn’t matter.

what do they know? nothing.

you do know something though. you were absolutely certain of one thing tonight — you were going to resign.

“you can discuss the matters to me just here. there’s no need for grand gestures.” you tugged your hand but he only tightened his grip you were sure it was going to bruise. damn him to hell.

”we’ll discuss it in my office. get in the car.”

the parking lot was secluded, vacant, and damp. the night breeze was chilling enough to bite down on your skin, sending shivers down to your spine.

and so you were right — he was making a move on you. again. how many times did this scene play out already? you lost count. for 5 years you endured his bullshits of advances. how his touch lingered longer than necessary. inappropriate jokes you once raised to the hr but called you ‘sensitive girl with no humor’, and because he’s close with kitamura; that made yuzuha see red — although it didn’t even do anything because the next day she was sent to deal with the agonizing whisper campaigns and entitled clients. you were running out of ideas how to wiggle away from him and escape all his attempts of isolating you. his twisted game of seeing how long it would take for him to own you. break you.

it was excruciatingly exhausting.

“i’d rather not. perhaps we could discuss this tomorrow morning in the company.” your tone fell flat.

“you know, i don’t really like repeating myself. this is an important matter. but for you, i’ll say it once and for all. get inside.” he pushed, calmly. perhaps a little too calm for your body to hear the crack in the atmosphere.

fuck.

“apologies, but i cannot. i’ll head back inside. i’ll email you your schedule for tomorrow, including this ‘important matter’ you need to discuss.”

there was silence. he stared at you with dark eyes; his demeanor was calm but good god you could feel the weight of his eyes. his subtle erratic breaths, the way his jaw clenched — you turned around before he could even say anything.

perhaps this is the gnawing dread that you felt earlier that festered within your system tonight.

“how’s yuzuha holding up?”

oh this fucker knew how to push your buttons. he knew all too well you’d bite the bait he laid down, like a hunter waiting for this fish to practically swim and hook itself.

a losing game.

you whipped around only to see his smug grin and the only thing you wanted to do was to wipe that grin off his face. each moment that passed, each second that tock your facade crumbles. you’ve had enough.

“i heard the araragi holdings were relentless on her. must be so tiring,” he sighed, feigning innocence that made your blood boil. so he planned it? this fucker.

“she’s so… brilliant. amazing even. she could handle so many clients. maybe i should recommend her to my colleagues. i’m sure they would love to see her in action.” he continued.

“leave her the fuck out of this mess, kitamura.” the thin line of your patience that was hanging by a thread snapped with the nastiest click in your chest.

his grin widened.

“there she is. that’s my girl. how about you go inside my car now, hmm? maybe we could sort this out. talk it out, and maybe have a good time too.” he shrugged, calculated and casual. he was testing me. enjoying every bit of my reaction.

damn him. fuck him — good god the rage within you doubled and seethed so bad it hurt. too much it made your body tremor. you knew he was manipulating you. weaponizing your affection, and frankly? it was working.

you were aware but awareness doesn’t equate to resolution. it made the rage more vivid. difficult to control.

“sort out my resignation instead. and yuzuha’s. you can go fuck yourself. i’m done.” you spat, full of resentment and indignation. the words weren’t enough to paint your emotions as a whole right now.

its a blob of maddening incoherence.

as you finally turned away from him, the warmth of anger still burning on your skin, you felt a sharp pain on your scalp as he grabbed a handful of your hair. you staggered from the pain and suddenness of his actions.

“no you’re fucking not.” icily, he dragged you away towards his car.

you could feel your scalp rip apart from the violence of his desperate prying hands; you were so sure that moment your heart would explode right there and then — it was frantic, each strand each pull — it was like he was trying to rip your scalp apart to finally hold your brain.

you flailed, stomped his shoe, dug your nails on his hands, anything, you did anything to get away from him; you shrieked and yelled — and it was chilling you thought, it just echoed. hollowly echoed. as if your voice was telling you that you were alone, in decibels. in reverberations.

god you were just so exhausted but there was no fucking way you’d succumb to him, to his years of torment and manipulation, and now? your nerves ignited with the adrenaline of rage and desperation to get back at him. no fucking way.

even if it meant breaking bones and drawing blood then he shall pay the price.

“shut the fuck up cunt,” he hissed before he manhandled you to face him; one hand sized your jaw you knew it would leave an imprint, a bruise. a reminder of his abuse. the other one held your arm.

you spat at his face then with all your remaining might full of anger and palpitating fear you kicked him on his shins. again on his crotch this time — god that felt brutally good. to see him coil over from pain?

“fuck you.”

again.

you kicked him again. and again with so much rage until he grabbed ahold of your leg and pulled it down that made you stumble and fall.

what’s scary is that he didn’t even need to say anything to fuck you over with fear and anger. all he had to was raise his hand that resembled your father’s — you shut your eyes tight and braced for the impact.

it didn’t hit.

instead a sharp, whipping sound tore through the heaving atmosphere thick with ruins and violence followed by a yelp of pain.

kitamura dropped helplessly on the ground, curses riveted off his lips as he pathetically clutched his folded knee close to his chest.

huh.

huh?

“well look who it is.”

you looked up to see a man standing on the distance, holding a gun. a silencer gun to be specific. well you’ll be damned. striking pink hair and those damn scars.

look who it is.

if it isn’t none other than sanzu haruchiyo.

── .✦

author’s note 𓍼ོ wooosh! i hope you enjoyed the first installation lol, i’m still working on the next few chapters. if you happen to see any ungrammatical sentence or typos… no you don’t… (i wrote this until 4am lol) if you enjoyed this piece, reblogs and hearts are highly appreciated! lmk your thoughts. take care everyoneee <33

do not repost, copy, translate, or redistribute on any platform without explicit permission. all credits to @inanisomnia / @ynasomniaur. this work is fiction and does not reflect the views or actions of real individuals.

[jjoongstar]

my page is so dusty💀 sorry yall for being mia for like almost 3 months, im barely alive here.

anywaysss, im gonna take some time to read all those fics i’ve been tagged in, from my lovely moots, fav authors.

inbox and dms are always open, but i cant take any requests rn, (the ones in the inbox are still there collecting dust, sorry)🫰🏻

[jjoongstar]

#OurRadiantYunhoDay (990323) Happy Birthday to the most precious human being ever ❤️

[jjoongstar]

HE IS EVERYTHING!!!

[jjoongstar]

distracted

bad students must face the consequences of their behaviour. it doesn’t matter who your boyfriend is.

words: 2.9k

part of my february festival event

join my taglist

warnings: dom!professors matz x sub!student reader, teacher-student relationship (hongjoong x you), power dynamics, threesome, punishment, spanking with ruler, very light anal play, face fucking, double penetration (mouth & pussy), under-negotiated kink, unprotected sex, sir kink, degradation, light dumbification etc

i am not responsible for the content you consume.

“What is this?”

He waves the sheet in front of your face indignantly and you recognise it instantly as the test you’d taken last week; the red D scrawled in the top corner gives you away and you huff. “How did you even—”

“Seonghwa,” he says, cutting you off. You’d roll your eyes if you thought you’d get away with it right now.

You knew it was a bad idea, really, dating Hongjoong; he may not have been your professor, but he is a professor, so you should’ve figured he’d be in cahoots with your teachers. It’s not like discretion was a massive concern, anyway; your relationship is an open secret among the staff. It’s technically not allowed, but you’re a grad student, an independent adult and your parents donate enough money to the school that neither of you would be in too much trouble if anyone did find out anyway. So you suppose you shouldn’t be surprised that, when you turned in a piss-poor exam, Seonghwa had run off tattling to your boyfriend. Dickhead.

“I was just having a bad day,” you say. “I studied, really. I don't know what happened.”

Neither of you believe that, but you push your lips into a pout and do your best to look contrite—to play the sweet, innocent girl your boyfriend loves to ruin.

“Joong…” You try to sound scared but you both know you’re not; there’s nothing he could do to you that you wouldn’t enjoy, after all. You’re just as sick as each other.

Hongjoong chuckles, clicking his tongue. He looks thoughtful for a moment, like he’s pretending to be conflicted over whether to punish you or not, but he’s not very good at hiding his excitement. The regretful sigh he lets out when he makes his decision is laughably disingenuous. “Bad girl,” he says, shaking his head. “You know I can’t let you get away with this, sweetheart.”

You open your mouth to respond but he doesn’t give you time; he shoves you down harshly, bending you over his desk so your ass is sticking up in the air. It’s a familiar position that you’ve found yourself in time and time again since you met him and you body prepares itself automatically; expecting him to spank you, you stick your ass up higher and wait with bated breath for the first blow. It doesn’t come. You crane your head around, confused. “Joong, what—” Oh.

You don’t need to finish the question; standing behind you, next to Hongjoong, is the very man who’d got you in this predicament in the first place— your medieval history professor, Park Seonghwa himself. He tilts his head, smiling sweetly. “Good afternoon.”

Your jaw drops. You hadn’t expected this—when did he even come in, anyway? “Joong—”

“You think we didn’t notice how you look at him?” Your boyfriend asks coolly. It’s only because of the cock in his hand, hard and already leaking, that you’re not worried he’s mad at you; no, he loves this. You should’ve known.

“Is that why you failed?” Seonghwa asks. “Too busy dreaming about me bending you over your desk? You have a boyfriend; an esteemed colleague of mine, in fact.” His tone is chiding and you feel yourself flush.

Hongjoong snorts almost petulantly. “As if she cares about that.”

“No?” Seonghwa asks. “What does she care about, then?”

“Pull her panties down and find out.”

Your cunt throbs painfully at the surety of the demand and the dark look in Seonghwa’s eyes as he obliges without hesitation. He doesn’t ask permission before he touches you—he already has it from the one who matters, after all—but when he pushes your skirt up your back, his hands still momentarily; you smile into the wood as you realise what they’re both looking at—the white, lacy panties sitting snugly across your pert cheeks.

“Well, isn’t that a sight.” Seonghwa’s voice is hoarse and affected as he rubs a hand across the delicate material. You feel yourself tense under his touch, the unfamiliar feeling of his skin on yours, and he gently pinches the soft flesh. “Relax,” he mumbles. “Be good, yeah? I won’t hurt you, I’ll be gentle.”

A sweet sounding lie; you can tell from the heaviness of his hand as it comes to rest on your ass that he has no such intentions. He fingers softly at the lace of your panties, sighing ruefully. “These really are beautiful,” he muses. “I hate to have to take them down like this, but bad students have to learn, don’t they?”

“They certainly do.” You crane your neck to follow your boyfriend’s voice and find him leaning against the wall behind Seonghwa, staring you down with familiarly cold eyes. He cocks an eyebrow when you finally catch his gaze. “Got something to say, precious?”

“No, sir,” you whisper.

“Turn around, then,” he smiles. “I’m just here to watch.”

You turn back, though more so he doesn’t see you roll your eyes than out of a desire to obey him. Seonghwa has carefully shimmied your panties down to the middle of your thighs and the cold air of the office bites at your sensitive pussy.

“Spread your legs,” he says. “Show me how wet you are.“

Blushing furiously, you part your legs, spreading them as far as you can without snapping the panties bunched around your thighs. Seonghwa hums, running a long finger through your wet folds. The touch is unexpected but Hongjoong’s trained you well enough that you manage to stay still despite your surprise. You whine a little when he pulls away and you hear both men chuckle.

“Professor Kim,” Seonghwa says. His voice has a new quality; delicate and flirtatious as he addresses your boyfriend. “Come and taste how wet she is.”

You hear Hongjoong approach the elder and try to move around to see it, but Seonghwa’s firm hand on your neck holds you still. “I don’t think so, bad girl,” he tuts. “Only good little girls get to watch. Keep still.”

“Good call,” Hongjoong purrs. “She’s always loved seeing me with other people. Little pervert would probably start humping the table if she saw me doing this.”

You hear the wet, lewd sounds of Hongjoong sucking at Seonghwa’s finger, lapping up your juices with a noise of pleasure. “Delicious little slut,” he chuckles. “Let’s get her properly disciplined so we can play with her how she wants.”

Somehow you hear the wide grin in Seonghwa’s voice as Hongjoong backs away. “I quite agree.”

His hands rests on your ass again, squeezing it softly. “This is what’s gonna happen, little one. You got a 48 on my exam, didn’t you?”

You’re almost embarrassed to hear the number and you know Hongjoong is too. “Yes,” you whisper.

“Yes, Professor will do,” he says. “You’re not my friend, sweetheart. You’re just a wayward student being put back on the right path.”

Shame courses through you but it would be a lie to say it’s anything but thrilling. “Yes, professor,” you whisper.

He taps your ass appreciatively. “Good girl. So, you got a 48 on my exam. What was the pass mark?”

“60, Professor,” you mumble.

“Now that’s not very hard to achieve, is it Professor Kim?”

“It’s not. The pass marks in my class are higher, in fact.”

You want to roll your eyes at their smug, jovial tones but you’re too aroused now to do anything but anticipate.

“A pathetic score, really.” Seonghwa’s voice is closer than ever and you feel his presence just inches away. “Especially for such a bright young woman. I think you need to learn to separate your head—” he gathers a piece of your hair, gently folding it behind your ear “—and your pussy, hm?”

“Yes, Professor.”

“Good.“ Something long and thin taps at your bare skin and you recognise it instantly—the wooden ruler Hongjoong keeps in his desk drawer for when he’s feeling particularly on-the-nose about the taboo nature of your relationship.

“I’m going to hit you with this twelve times,” Seonghwa purrs. “For each of the marks you easily could have gotten if you hadn’t been too busy imagining my cock in your mouth. Yeah?”

You nod, feeling yourself pulse. “Yes, Professor.”

“Repeat after me, alright?” The first hit is quick and sharp, spread over your ass and it makes you gasp. Seonghwa chuckles and rubs the reddening flesh before he grabs your hair, yanking your head back to whisper in your ear. “One,” he says. “I’m sorry for being such a slut, Professor.”

You repeat it quietly and he tuts. “Louder than that, love. I’m sure your boyfriend wants to know you’re learning your lesson.”

You oblige, repeating it louder and he makes a noise of satisfaction before the ruler comes down again, this time at the tops of your thighs. “Two,” he says. “I’m sorry for thinking with my pussy instead of my head.”

“Two, I’m… I’m sorry for thinking with my pussy instead of my head.”

The next hit lands in the same spot. “Three. I’m sorry for dripping over Professor Kim’s desk just from being spanked.”

You blush in embarrassment; you’d half hoped he wouldn’t notice, but that was a tall order anyway. When it comes to Hongjoong and anything to do with him, you’ve never been subtle.

The next hits follow the same pattern, spread across your ass and thighs with each one making you gasp louder than the last.

“Four. I’m sorry for making Professor Park waste his time disciplining me.”

“Five. I’m sorry for daydreaming about choking on another man’s cock.”

“Six. I’m sorry for being arrogant enough to think I’d get away with such an embarrassing performance.”

The last one hits you right on your dripping pussy, making you scream and he grabs your hair, spinning you around to face him and your boyfriend; your eyes hone in on Hongjoong’s cock, pulsing in his hands before Seonghwa forces your attention back to him. “Twelve,” he growls. “I’m sorry for being such a cockwhore that I’m making Professor Park break his rule about sleeping with students.”

You can’t help but grin as you repeat his words, feeling proud. Of course, you knew from the moment you turned around and saw him standing there what was going to happen, but it’s nice to hear it from him. He smiles, grasping your neck gently. “Did you like that?” He asks. “Getting spanked by your professor while your boyfriend jerks off to it?”

“Yeah,” you breathe. “I liked it.”

“Well, now that you’ve learnt your lesson,” he says, “I think it’s time you got fucked, no?”

You nod and turn to your boyfriend; he tilts his head, nodding towards his hard cock. “You know what to do,” he says.

“Yes, sir.” You sink to your knees, staring up at Seonghwa and sending him a teasing smile before crawling towards Hongjoong. You open your mouth, letting him push his dick inside; after all this time together, he doesn’t need to ease you into it anymore and can go straight to fucking your mouth and you take it diligently, opening your throat the way he’s trained you to. You hear Seonghwa whistle, admiring.

“She sucks cock like a fucking pro,” he laughs; the arousal in his voice is thick and unmistakable. “You’ve trained her well, Hongjoong.”

Hongjoong laughs too, patting your head. “I had an excellent student,” he grins. You smile around him at the praise and he curses. “You’re too good at this, babe, Jesus. Gonna cum before I even fuck you.”

He thrusts into your mouth a few more times before pulling out abruptly, shoving you off of him and in an instant Seonghwa’s hands are in your hair as he pulls you to your feet and shoves you back over the desk. You collide painfully with the wood but you barely notice; you’re used to being manhandled by now, and it only makes you more excited.

Large hands you recognise as Seonghwa’s grab your ass cheeks, pulling them apart slowly; the air hits your exposed holes and makes you jump in surprise but you quickly regain your composure. As you still yourself again you feel Hongjoong’s finger running gently across your asshole, almost like he’s inspecting it, before it slides down to toy with your pussy.

“Hm…” Seonghwa’s voice is teasing. “What’s your favourite hole of hers, Professor Kim?”

“What a question,” Hongjoong chuckles and you hear the smile in his voice. His finger prods gently at your rim, making you tense unconsciously and he tuts, lightly slapping the tight little hole. It’s a subtle, painless chastisement but it makes you whine all the same. “Now, now, kitty cat,” he chuckles. “I didn’t train you to squirm, did I?”

“No, sir,” you mumble.

“Good,” he says. “To answer your question, Hwa, I’d have to say her pussy. I love her ass, of course, but nothing compares to the way that little cunt clings to my dick like it’s just begging for a baby.”

“Well that does sound nice.” Seonghwa’s hands leave your ass, returning to your pussy to spread you open. “It looks snug,” he says. “What do you think, little one? Want your professor to breed you?”

It takes you a moment for your brain to catch up with the rest of you and you frown in confusion. “I- you mean you, Professor Park?” You ask. It comes out as more of a strangled cry; your head is a mess of arousal and you barely even register what he’s saying to you, let alone comprehend it fully.

He laughs, patting your soft skin gently. “Yes, perhaps I should be more clear. It must be confusing to be bending over in front of two of your teachers.”

Your face burns at the obvious mockery; the degrading, sneering tone of his voice but you say nothing. Seonghwa hums. “So?” He asks sweetly. “You want me in your cunt, baby girl?”

“Yes,” you breathe. “Please, Professor.”

“There’s those manners,” he praises.

He keeps a firm grip on your hips as he slides in from behind; the feeling of his skin against your still burning ass is uncomfortable, but the way his cock is stretching you as he buries himself inside you is the only thing your brain can process right now.

He’s just as big as Hongjoong, maybe a little bigger, but his thrusts are more fluid and controlled; where Hongjoong fucks you like an animal hungry for more, Seonghwa fucks you with precision; with intention. His hands on your hips are firm yet gentle and the way he finds you in your deepest places has your head spinning with euphoria. “Jesus,” he curses. “Pretty little thing, aren’t you?”

You open your mouth to respond, barely getting a whine out before you feel hands in your hair, yanking at it to pull you forward. Hongjoong comes into view on the other side of the desk, his dick somehow still hard as he feeds it into your mouth. “There you go,” he coos. “Keep it hard, baby.”

You nod as best as you can and the friction against his dick makes your boyfriend groan. “Fuck,” he mutters. “You’re so fucking good with cock you could make me cum on accident.”

The feeling of two dicks inside you makes it hard to focus on either one; let alone to begin to process the filthy words they spit down at you. Intesd you close your eyes, letting the tears fall as Hongjoong starts to fuck your throat again; you’re limp against the desk now, held up solely by the wood and by the two men using you to satisfy themselves. “Oh shit,” Hongjoong says, seeing your dazed expression. “Baby’s gone dumb already.” He strokes your hair gently, a small comfort between punishing thrusts. “You okay, little dove?”

You groan in response, unable to do much else; it makes them laugh and Seonghwa pats your ass affectionately. “You’re doing so well,” he says. “I’m almost there, sweetheart. Gonna fill you up real nice, yeah?”

“Y-yeah,” you gasp.

The feeling of Seonghwa’s thrusts growing faster and harder and more desperate is overwhelming; coupled with the sensation of Hongjoong’s cock hitting the back of your throat again and again, it’s almost unbearable. Your fingers claw against the wood, surely leaving marks but you don’t care; you feel unlike you ever have before, stuffed full and used by two of the most attractive men you’ve ever even imagined.

You’re in so deep that you don’t even realise it’s over until the emptiness of your mouth and cunt becomes obvious; you feel cum leaking from your hole, a wet substance dripping down the desk and only when you look closer do you figure out what it is—squirt. You squirted. You squirted all over your boyfriend’s desk with another man’s cock in your pussy and you’ve never been more fucked out and satisfied than you are now.

When you stand up fully your legs, numbed and weakened by their abuse, start to give out but Hongjoong is there in an instant; he catches you in his arms, lowering himself to the ground so he can cradle you in his lap. You’re faintly aware of Seonghwa’s voice and strong hands stroking your hair before he’s gone, and it’s just you and Hongjoong.

“Good girl,” he mutters. “You took that so well.”

“Really?”

“Of course,” he smiles. “I only hope your performance in Professor Park’s class improves soon. Otherwise he’ll have to tutor you if you want to keep your spot in his class.”

Your heart jumps. “What?”

“Uni rules,” he shrugs, appearing nonchalant but the knowing smile on his face tells all. “If you fail two exams in a row, that’s what happens.”

You don’t know why he seems so surprised when you turn up in his office a month later with a D-minus and an already leaking pussy. He always knew you were insatiable.

Lucky for you, so are they.

—

comments/reblogs appreciated! i’m not sure im super happy with the ending but we move. let me know your thoughts! love🖤🖤🖤

ateez taglist: @pixie0627 @hon3ysun @bbdeongi @hwaromi @tangerineastronaut @fancypeacepersona @aloevendetta (unable to tag: @lemonkait00 @mylovelymito)

february festival taglist: @hohongsan @nopension

[jjoongstar]

i… am speechless. now what even is this im so wet like i found another side of me that i nvr knew, damn. THIS IS SO AMAZING LIKE ITS SO FUCKED UP LIKE HELL YEAH IM SO INTO THIS SHI! HWA WAS SO HOT IN HERE LIKE MAN, THIS IS SO ATTRACTIVE FOR WHAT!? i fear you slayed this too much, you deserve an award, istg this made me go insane. i so cant be normal after this. oh good heavens…😞

no way out (p.sh)

pairing: hostage!reader x maifa boss!seonghwa

preview: seonghwa loves to collect pretty things. when he saw you, he knew he needed to add you to his collection.

tags/warnings: fem reader, (leather) gloved fingering, pussy slapping, begging, gun + knife play, edging, overstimulation, s&m, dacryphilia, degrading, praise, pet names (doll, princess, baby, angel), hair pulling, possessiveness, marking, choking, unprotected penetration (wrap it before you tap it), creampie

trigger warnings: kidnapping, kinda noncon, beginning stages of stockholm syndrome, guns and knives ofc

wc: 2.7k

song recs for this fic: criminal by britney spears

a/n: please read the tags and triggers very carefully!!!

seonghwa sat comfortably in his black mercedes benz, watching the people around him. his dark tinted windows gave no one any awareness of his presence. many people gawked at his car, amazed to see something so expensive on this side of the city. “anything catching your eye, boss?” his driver asked, breaking the thick silence. seonghwa shakes his head, staring into the rearview mirror. “no, but we’ll give it another couple of minutes.” he returned his eyesight to scan the crowd.

the leather seats of his car were comfortable enough to give him the relaxation he needed while scoping out the crowds of people. spending so much time indoors had caused him to forget just how many people live in seoul. he leaned back against the headrest, wishing that endeavours like these didn’t take so long. he crosses his arms, his leather gloved hands resting on his biceps.

he spotted plenty of objectively attractive people, some he might’ve dared to test on any other occasion. but he knew what he wanted. finally, through the crowd, he spots you. you glow within the crowd like the sun in the sky. “there.” the man in the passenger seat is quick to jump out, standing in your way. you trip over yourself a bit, startled by the sudden presence in front of you. “sorry ma’am, do you have a minute?” he asks, your eyebrows furrowing. seonghwa climbs out of the car and appears behind his bodyguard. “no, i don’t,” you respond, quick to dodge both men, staring down at your phone. seonghwa watches you speed walk away, crossing his arms over his chest. your thoughtless resistance attracted a dark part of him. “that’s the one. follow her.” 

both men are quick to pile back into the expensive car and follow your direction. they trail behind you, watching you as you walk into your apartment building. they sit in the parking lot for longer than most people would consider appropriate. seonghwa checks his watch. he has a meeting soon, he cannot sit here for much longer. “contact hongjoong and have him send some men here to get her for me.” his order is stern and his driver nods. slowly, they pull away from the parking lot and drive back to the mansion where the mafia resides.

_______________________________________________

a few days later, seonghwa is greeted by a knock on his office door. the doors open to reveal two lower members of the family, wooyoung and san. “what can i do for you, gentlemen?” he asks, tapping on the papers on his desk to indicate that he’s busy. the two men stand in front of him timidly, keeping their heads lowered. “she’s here,” san says. seonghwa’s eyebrow raises, his tapping coming to an almost immediate halt. he rises from his chair, the two bodyguards in the room immediately tense up. “where is she?” wooyoung visibly gulps, adjusting on his feet. “the safe house, as you requested. she was very combative. yeosang is with the doctor right now, dealing with the scratches she gave him.” seonghwa chuckles, imagining the image of a girl your size doing damage to a man built like yeosang. 

seonghwa nods, waving the two men off. they’re quick to scurry away from the intimidating leader. he digs around in his drawer, pulling out his pistol. he’s quick to shove it into his gun holster before moving his coat back to cover it. he adjusts the holster on his other thigh, housing an intimidating looking knife. “let’s go.” seonghwa is quick to strut out of the room, heading directly for his car. he climbs into the backseat, his guards moving swiftly so as to not anger him. sitting in the backseat, he finds himself filled with an unusual sense of nervousness and excitement. 

the usual procedure for entering the safe house would require seonghwa to enter with the protection of his bodyguards. something was gnawing at him and telling him to go in alone. “stay in the car. if i don’t come back out in 10 minutes, you may leave.” with that, he climbs out of the car. he punches in the short number code, listening to it beep quietly to signal the locking mechanism letting him in. he pushes the door open and the air is thick with tension. he doesn’t know where they put you or if you’re even restrained. however, based on the damage to yeosang, he figures it’s probably a safe bet that you are restrained. 

the door clicks behind him and he decides to kick off his combat boots. it doesn’t take much effort to find you considering your constant, slightly muffled screams for someone to help you. seonghwa finds you restrained on a dining room chair, your hands tied behind you and your ankles tied to the legs of the chair. you flinch when he finally enters your line of sight. you’re gagged with what looks like a cloth or a bandana. your eyes widen with a look of familiarity. 

seonghwa leans against the wall, tilting his head to the side. “hi, angel. remember me?” you turn your head away, avoiding his domineering gaze. a rush of frustration fills his veins, running his tongue over his teeth. he walks into your line of sight again, this time he flashes his gun at you. “you wanna try that again? remember me?” your eyes widen and you nod vigorously. a smile spreads over his face as he re-conceals his weapon.  

“do you know why you’re here?” he asks, leaning against the wall as if he had all the time in the world. you shake your head, desperately trying not to drool around your makeshift gag. seonghwa clicks his tongue, as if he’s disappointed in your cluelessness. “you’re here because you disrespected me. bad girls don’t get to just walk away from people like me.” he stares at you through his eyebrows, his anger showing in his face. you can’t help the adrenaline rush you get that prompts you to start struggling against your restraints. 

seonghwa is quick to close the space between you, grabbing you by the chin and staring into your eyes. “stop fucking struggling.” your body freezes like a deer in headlights, all of your movements stopping just as soon as they started. “do you even know who i am?” the empty look in your eyes gives him the answer he needs. it shocks him a little. someone who doesn’t know the most infamous person in the entire country. “have you ever heard of park seonghwa?” a strange glint passes over your eyes before you nod. he smirks before gesturing to himself. “you’re looking at him.” he pauses. “ honestly, you should be flattered that you’re here. i don’t pick just anyone to test like this.” 

you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “mmf- test?” you do your best to speak around your mouth covering and seonghwa chuckles before re-composing himself. “well, i have to see if i can break you. did you really think a pretty girl like you was going to get abducted like this and not get fucked?” a new rush of horror overcomes you and it lights a sinister flame within seonghwa. he can tell how anxious you are based on how the rhythm of your breathing immediately changes. he likes the way you react to his words. “oh princess, you’re in for a real treat.” 

everything in you is telling you to beg for your life. scream, cry and hope a hardened criminal like him has at least a little bit of empathy left in him. you know these efforts are futile, however. seonghwa sheds his coat and places it on the table next to you. his slim figure in his attractive suit have you wanting to drool. you stop yourself when your eyes meet his pistol once again. you gulp, watching as he adjusts his gloves. “i think it’s best i start your test now.” before you can react, he’s untying your legs and arms, forcing you to stand. you whine, your legs feeling numb from sitting for so long. he shoves you onto the couch in the living room. he watches you scramble away, not even moving to stop you. he knows there’s no escape.

“are you done?” he asks, his tone that of an exhausted father dealing with his bratty toddler. he crosses the room, throwing you over the armrest of the couch. he hooks his fingers under the waistband of your pants and underwear, pulling them both down with one quick tug. “god, you’re fucking dripping. what a whore. you like this, don’t you?” you shake your head, kicking your feet as if to try and keep him away. “get off m-me!.” your speech is muffled from the gag.  he shoves your legs apart and slots himself between them. seonghwa lands a harsh slap to your ass, causing you to yelp. “i said, are you fucking done?” you twist to look him in the face and scowl. you pull your gag off your face before speaking. “fuck you.” 

seonghwa leans over you and presses your face into the couch with one hand, while he uses the other to shove two gloved fingers into your cunt. you cry out, your sound muffled by the cushion “whores don’t speak like that to their owners, do they?” his fingers move quickly inside you, thrusting in and out. the leather rubbing against your walls adds to the already euphoric feeling. you grip the couch cushion so hard your knuckles turn white. seonghwa shoves another finger into you, curling them to find your g-spot. he leans over you further to whisper in your ear, his fingers still working an orgasm out of you. he pulls your head up by your hair to get better access to your ear. “if i didn’t know any better, i would say this is turning you on. i can just feel the way you’re clenching.” 

finally, you manage to kick him in the knee, sending him stumbling back. you gasp for air, your lungs desperate for oxygen. you don’t even have time to reap the benefits of getting him off you before he returns. this time, you feel something cold press against the skin of your ass. you hear the click of seonghwa cocking his gun. your whole body tenses, sucking in a sharp breath of air. “yeah, i bet now you wanna fucking behave.” he slides the barrel of the gun over your slit, collecting your slick. “p-please, don’t.” he sighs and shoves your face back down into the couch. “don’t speak unless spoken to.” he shoves the gun into your hole, the cold metal sending shivers down your spine. you know better than to fight back now.

he slides it in and out slowly, cherishing the way you suck it in with ease. the fear coursing through your veins heightens the pleasure. your whining and squealing at every drag inside you. seonghwa groans at the sight of you at his complete disposal, his gun inside you keeping you obedient. your legs begin to shake as you near your high, a feeling you regret. “ple-ah please,” you mumble into the couch.

“please what, baby?” you cry silently into the cushion, your shoulders shaking. your body reacts against your will, your orgasm barreling towards you. “c-cumming.” seonghwa says nothing as your orgasm crashes into you, your body trembling uncontrollably. as you finish, seonghwa shoves his gun into as far as it will go, making sure you can feel him brush his finger over the trigger. “this is the one time i’m gonna be nice to you. next time you cum without permission, i’m pulling the trigger.” he pulls his pistol all the way out of you, licking the remnants of your release off the gun.

he moves away from you slightly to pull his pants and boxers down mid-thigh. “stop it, p-please. i don’t want this.” seonghwa shakes his head before shrugging. “i don’t care what you want.” he keeps you bent over the couch, watching as your nerves continue to twinge. your cunt is red and swollen from use, yet still visibly slick. he drags his tip over your folds, gathering your wetness. you claw at the couch to try and crawl away, but he’s quick to pull you back. “don’t forget who has the gun, princess. one quick movement and you could be dead on this couch. do you want that?” you shake your head, fear making you shiver.

“didn’t think so.” with that, he shoves into you. his tip jabs at your cervix, the sudden stretch having you gasping for air. seonghwa’s jaw falls slack, watching the way his cock disappear into you. he fans his hands over your ass, grabbing and squishing your plush flesh. a hard slap rings through the room and you whimper, digging your teeth into your bottom lip. 

seonghwa’s hips begin moving. he’s nicer to you than he expected you to be. that doesn’t last, however. his thrusts pick up speed when you start wiggling under him, your own body betraying you in its desperation for pleasure. “silly girl, can’t even resist her captor's cock. just admit how much you like it, baby.” you shake your head, breathing so hard it’s making you dizzy. your brain is turning to mush and you’re losing your ability to fight back. not that you really want to anymore. he’s making you feel so good, why would you want to run?

seonghwa manhandles you, flipping you over and moving you so your ass is hanging off the couch cushions. he slots himself back between your legs in one quick motion. he shoves in to the hilt, snapping his hips against yours so hard you might bruise. he wraps his arms around your waist to snap into you harder and your eyes roll back. the room fills with noisy skin slapping sounds and the wet noises leaving your core. “fuck, you feel so good. you clench so pretty around my cock, baby.” 

he pulls his knife out of its holster, dragging it over your skin without pressing down. “i’m claiming you as mine. you will never know another man’s touch.” he adjusts his grip on the knife, guiding it down to your hip. seonghwa presses the blade into your skin, dragging it to carve an ‘s’ into your flesh. the stinging pain sends a new course of pleasure through you, your core sucking him in harder. “i knew you were dirty, but not this dirty. you like that, doll? you like when the man who kidnapped you carves his initials into your body?” you nod, your body twitching. 

seonghwa traces a few more lines into your skin with his knife before putting it down on the table behind him. he gathers your blood on his fingers and brings them to his mouth. “c-cumming,” you sputter. before you can say anything else, his gun is pressed to your temple. he shakes his head at you, clicking his tongue. his incessant thrusts into you are not helping you fight off your orgasm. “what did i say?” tears spill from your eyes, your eyeliner running down your face. you breathe so hard it hurts your chest. 

“please, please, need to cum. can i cum?” you plead. you hiccup, your bottom lip quivering. he pouts at you, pressing the gun against your head harder. his hips stutter and it becomes obvious that he’s been fighting his own orgasm. “cum for me, princess.” your eyes roll back and your back arches against him, his face pressing into your chest. you clench and unclench, hearing him let out a low moan. “that’s it, baby. milk my fucking cock. it’s all yours. yeah, it’s yours.” 

finally, your body relaxes. you had anticipated feeling a new rush of fear once the pleasure left you. but, you found yourself seeking his comfort. he holds you gently, discarding his weapons. “you passed the test, doll. i broke your brain and now you’re mine. i’ll keep you safe.” swiftly, he puts his clothes back on properly. he lifts you, carrying you out of the house despite your obvious lack of clothing. san and wooyoung stand outside the door patiently, waiting for instruction. “clean the house, make it spotless. also, i need one of you to grab my gun and my knife. i don’t wanna re-scare my baby right now.”

with that, you’re carried into the very car that had followed you just a few days ago. except this time, seonghwa got what he wanted. 

© lomlhwa 2025

[jjoongstar]

250203 Seonghwa (Amsterdam ATEEZ WORLD TOUR TOWARDS THE LIGHT : WILL TO POWER), cr. 43_vy

[jjoongstar]

actually speechless

[jjoongstar]

HES SO SHSOSNDISKSB I NEED HIM

[jjoongstar]

the difference in matz 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

joong is hips out and hwa is chest out..... the implications are making me dizzy

[jjoongstar]

TO YOUR ROOM, PARK SEONGHWA. NO LEGO FOR YOU.

CREDIT TO WHOEVER THE HELL CAPTURED THIS. MAY YOU ALWAYS PULL YOUR BIAS FOREVER AND EVER AMEN.

[jjoongstar]

NOW HOLD ON A FUCKING SECOND FOLKS ARE YALL SEEING THEM THANGS TOO???????

[jjoongstar]

၄၃ my ateez ၄၃

[jjoongstar]

best kind of Hongjoong pics

[jjoongstar]

where you cover your face shyly with your hands when you are getting fucked. only for hongjoong to grab said hands and pin them to the bed so you can't hide.

the moment hongjoong caught the sight of your hands flying up to your face, his jaw tightened, and his pace faltered for a split second. you were beneath him, flushed and trembling, trying to hide the soft, breathy moans spilling out of you and the way your eyes rolled back every time he thrust deeper.

"nah," he muttered, voice low and rough, grabbing your wrists and pinning them to the mattress above your head. "don’t hide from me."

your lips parted in a stifled whimper as his grip tightened, his hips snapping forward hard enough to knock the breath out of you. the drag of his cock against your walls was maddening, every inch making you squirm under his hold.

"look at me," he demanded, his tone sharp but laced with something dark, hungry. his eyes burned into yours as he pressed his forehead against yours, his body never losing its relentless rhythm. "lemme see you. wanna watch every little expression you make when i’m fucking you this good."

you bit your lip, your face turning away, but his grip on your wrists didn’t let up. if anything, it got stronger. "don’t do that," he growled, nipping at the corner of your mouth before biting down on your jaw. "don’t act shy when i know how bad you want this. how bad you want me."

his words sent heat flooding through you, your walls fluttering around him, and he smirked when he felt it. "yeah, that’s what i thought," he rasped, his voice thick with satisfaction. "your body doesn’t lie, baby."

his pace quickened, each thrust hitting so deep it had you crying out, your shy protests turning into desperate, high-pitched moans that filled the room. hongjoong grinned, his breath hot against your neck.

"fuck, you’re so good for me," he groaned, his cock twitching inside you as he dragged your body closer to his. "you feel how deep i am? how much i’m stretching you out? bet it’s driving you crazy, huh? bet you’re close already."

your head tilted back, your hands twisting in his grip as you tugged weakly, but he didn’t let go. instead, he leaned down, catching your lips in a messy, heated kiss that left you gasping for air.

"don’t hide from me, y/n," he murmured against your lips, his voice low and teasing. "wanna see every fucking second of you falling apart on my cock."

the way his hips snapped into yours, the way his eyes stayed locked on your face, watching every twitch, every moan, every little tremor that rolled through you—it was too much. the heat in your stomach coiled

tighter and tighter until it finally snapped, your body arching off the bed as you came with a loud cry.

hongjoong cursed under his breath, his pace turning rougher, sloppier, chasing his own release. "that’s it," he groaned, his voice wrecked as he buried himself as deep as he could, his release spilling into you with a sharp gasp.

he stayed there for a moment, catching his breath, his body pressed against yours. when he finally pulled back, his hands loosened around your wrists, but he didn’t let you go completely. instead, he leaned in, pressing a slow, almost lazy kiss to your lips.

"you don’t get to hide from me, baby," he murmured, his grin wicked and smug. "not when you’re this fucking pretty taking my cock."