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justalonelybitch · 1 year

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Luxurious Love, Lust & Lies

Chapter Two ~ Hands Stained Red

~ Series Masterlist ~

A twisted tale of the young and rich attending an elite private academy for academic scholars, the finest athletes and aristocrats. Follow these upperclassmen on a journey to uncovering the dark secrets their academy has fought tooth and nail to conceal from the public. No one will make it out unscathed, for everyone is at risk of falling for the deceiving facades of those around them.

Multiple K-pop Love Interests x F!Reader

You absentmindedly twirl the fountain pen between your fingers, staring out the large glass windows in boredom as the professor droned on. The hushed whispers of your classmates didn’t go unnoticed by the strict professor, who tilted her head, raising her brow, challenging them to continue. Under her fierce gaze, they were quick to quiet down, straightening their posture and focusing all their attention on her until she was seemingly satisfied by their obedience. “Am I boring you, Y/n?” Ms Jung addressed you, crossing her arms over her chest, unimpressed by your attitude.

“Of course not, Professor Jung,” you assured, swiftly halting the spin of your pen. Hissing as the tip sliced the palm of your hand without any resistance. Professor Jung squinted at you, clicking her tongue in disapproval as specs of red began to drip onto the crisp white paper before you. “You should head to the infirmary,” She sighed, ushering you to the front of the class. You avoided the burning gazes of your fellow students as you made your way past them, careful not to let your blood spill on the white marble floor. Jung Eunji graciously opened the door for you, stepping outside and closing it behind the two of you.

“Take this,” she pulled a fresh handkerchief from her blazer, wrapping it around your injured hand. “Thank you,” you muttered, watching as red instantly began to seep through the fabric snowy white. “You best be on your way,” Professor Jung nodded her head down the hall. “Stop by my office after class to collect today's assignments,” she reminded, earning a displeased mumble of agreement from you. She watched as you walked through the halls, shaking her head in amusement as you stumbled slightly, before turning on her heel and returning to the class.

It wasn’t long before the nurse released you, allowing you to attend your regular classes with a bandaged hand and strict instructions not to strain it. You took great effort in tugging down your sleeves in hopes of concealing your wound to avoid questioning. Sighing, you raised your hand to knock on Professor Jung’s door, making your presence known. “I thought I told you to stop by after class had concluded, not during your schedule.” She scolded, leaving the door open as an invitation to enter, she plopped down in her leather chair.

“Lovely to see you too, Professor,” you greeted sarcastically, closing the door behind you. Taking a seat on the couch opposite her, you lazily kicked your feet up on the couch, earning a scowl from her. Flicking through a few papers on her desk, she slipped multiple into a clear file before tossing it your way. “Won’t you spare me, just this once?” You pleaded, face scrunched up at the sight of all your assigned work. “No,” she deadpanned, folding her arms over her chest. “Not even for your favourite student?” You groaned, forehead creased in a frown.

“That would be considered unethical, and I’m not interested in losing my job,” Eunji informed. “No one would even have to know,” you whined, huffing as she shook her head. “Taeyeon would be on my ass about nepotism and you know it,” she chuckled as your shoulders sagged. “The headmaster is hardly any better,” you retorted under your breath, eyes narrowing at the several assignments resting atop your lap. “You spoke with her?” Professor Jung asked, mild surprise crossing her features. “It’s not like I did so willingly,” you insisted, frowning at the memory. Eunji raised an inquisitive brow at your statement.

“Stupid Mr Kim practically threw me out the door,” you elaborated further, grumbling profanities under your breath. Professor Jung chuckled at your colourful choice of language, leaning forwards in her chair with sudden interest. “What did the Headmistress say?” She asked, curiosity reflecting in her gaze. “It was nothing,” you mumbled, a frown set on your features. “Clearly not, nothing wouldn’t put you in such a bad mood,” Eunji dismissed your previous words easily. You huffed in frustration, glaring pointedly at your professor. “Fine, I won’t pry,” she raised her hands in surrender.

“That’s why you’re my favourite professor in this academy,” you grinned, as Eunji chuckled at your mood swings. An obnoxiously loud buzz crackled through the academy’s speakers, indicating the beginning of your next scheduled commitment. “Alright, you’ve been here long enough.” Ms Jung announced, rising to her feet. “I’m not wasting my free period listening to you complain about homework,” she declared, leaving no room for arguments. “Mrs Cheon is going to throw a fit when she sees my hand,” you laughed, referring to your piano teacher. Eunji snickered, practically pushing you out of her office.

“Y/n,” Ms Jung called out to you before you could make it too far down the maze like hallways. You hummed, glancing over your shoulder. “I may not pry, but please don't hesitate to come and find me if you ever need someone to speak to,” she spoke, forehead creased in notable concern. “Will do,” you smiled, “but I promise it’s nothing to worry about,” you assured, traipsing down the corridor without another word. Eunji sighed, watching you disappear round a corner, the faint whistle of a cheery tune only getting further and further away.

With one final glance Eunji began the journey to the faculty break room, in desperate need of a strong coffee. She carelessly pushed the door open after scanning her key card, rushing straight towards the kitchen cabinet. “I can’t imagine such a large consumption of caffeine is good for your health” Professor Kim Hyoyeon remarked with a chuckle, seated on a chair around the breakroom table. “How else do you suggest I deal with spoiled brats and sleep deprivation?” Eunji retorted, the two sharing a look before breaking out into laughter.

“They’re not that bad, you just have to scare them a little,” Hyoyeon smirked, sipping on her hot tea. Eunji hummed in agreement, taking a seat at the table, sparing a glance at the Headmistress, who sat cooped up by the window, worn book in hand. “And yet they still come crawling to my office during my precious breaks.” Eunji groaned, an expression of faux annoyance plastered on her face. “Y/n, again?” Hyoyeon asked, brows furrowed as she placed her mug on the table.

Nodding her head, Eunji took a sip of her steaming coffee, breathing a sigh of relief as the liquid met her tongue. “Is everything alright with her?” Hyoyeon questioned nonchalantly, trying to mask her concern with curiosity. Ms Jung hummed in contemplation, “I don’t know, but something’s definitely off with her,” she deduced. “How so?” Professor Kim Hyoyeon pressed further, attention focused solely on her colleague. “Like she’s got a lot on her mind, spacing out in class and what not. Even got herself hurt because of it,” Eunji shook her head in disappointment.

Taeyeon, who had been quietly listening, abruptly rose to her feet, slamming her book shut. Both professors snapped their heads in her direction, startled by the sudden outburst. The Headmistress wordlessly stormed past them, eyes clouded as she hurried out the door. “I’ll be right back,” Hyoyeon muttered, rushing after the older woman hastily. She called out after her, Taeyeon halting, but not turning to face her. “Where are you going?” Hyoyeon asked, by her side in an instant, concern written on her face.

“You know exactly where I’m going,” Taeyeon grit out, glaring at the younger woman. “Okay, but I don’t know what you’re thinking. If you’re going to something you might regret,” Hyoyeon trailed off, the older one calming slightly at the genuine worry. “I have to go, I’m sorry.” The Headmistress said, tone desperate. “Fine, I trust you. At least tell me how everything goes,” Hyoyeon compromised, lightly patting the shorter woman's shoulder. “I promise I will,” Taeyeon assured, smiling briefly before continuing walking. “Do you even know where she is?!” The younger woman yelled after her.

“I always know where she is.”

The soft melody floated through the room, enchanting your fingers as they graced over keys. Your jaw was firmly clenched, hands aching as you repeated the same piece several times, working tirelessly to achieve perfection. Your wound throbbing as you threw caution to the wind, only worsening your fresh gash, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. One slip of your finger had your hands moving with a mind of their own, slamming down on the keys in frustration, you winced at the unpleasant sound. You wanted to scream into the silence, but instead merely heaved a sigh, gazing at the sheet of music that glared back at you.

Your hand ached in protest, blood was bound to be soaking through the carefully wrapped gauze. Gaze hardening, you let your fingers glide across the keys with what looked like effortless precision. Gritting your teeth as you played, the familiar composition bouncing off the walls. “Y/n..” A voice laced in worry called out, but you remained blissfully ignorant. Disregarding the specks of red that began to taint the pure white, your eyes darted between the sheet and piano with extreme focus. “Y/n!” The voice yelled, falling deaf in your ears, letting the music guide you.

Just as you began to approach the song's peak, the satisfaction of success you craved was ripped from your grasp. An unidentified force jerked your arm back in desperation, saving you from inevitable destruction, but that’s not how you viewed it. “Why would you do that?!” You yelled, seeing red, anger boiling hot within you. “You were hurting yourself, Y/n!” Taeyeon shrieked, her grip on your arm firm, much like the expression adorning her face. “I almost had it, I would have done it if it weren't for you!” You seethed, trying to rip your hand free of her grasp.

“You were hurting yourself,” she repeated, tone desperate, eyebrows furrowed in concern. “I can take care of myself,” you grunted, refusing to meet her gaze, fist clenched in anger. “Really?” Taeyeon questioned, grasping your hand on her own, uncurling your fingers carefully. She revealed your red stained hands, eyes brimming with concern at the state you were in. “Stop,” you uttered, tugging your hand away and reaching for your music sheet, crumpling it in your palm.

“Why are you here, Taeyeon?” You asked coldly, eyes narrowed at her. “I’m here for you,” she confessed, eyes filled with sincerity, but you refused to play the fool. “Cut the bullshit,” you sneered, beginning to pack up your things. “I can see that you’re hurting, please let me help you,” she begged before you, taking a tentative step forward. “I don’t need your help!” You shouted, only further enraged by her words. “Why not? Why can’t you just accept my help?!” She questioned incredulously, meeting your volume.

“Why not?! Why not? Because you’re the damn reason everything’s so fucked in the first place! It’s all your fault and I hate you!” You yelled, a stray tear running down your cheek. “That’s not fair, Y/n..” Taeyeon muttered, utterly defeated by your words. Her heart ached in her chest, thrashing against her ribs. You hated her. The words replayed in her mind like a broken record. “How isn’t it fair? You left me..” an involuntary sob escaped your lips. “You left me,” you repeated the words, hating how broken you sounded, how fucked you were without her.

“I’m trying, Y/n. I’m trying to be there for you now..” She said, reaching out to you hopefully. “Acting like everything is fine doesn’t fix what happened,” you spoke, tone firm. “Please just let me help you now,” she pleaded, gently grasping your wounded hand. “I know it doesn’t fix anything, but you can’t expect me to make up for my past mistakes if you won’t even let me try.” Taeyeon looked into your eyes, chocolate orbs swirling with nothing but care. Huffing, you shook your head adamantly in refusal. “I have to meet someone,” you grumbled, brushing past the older woman. The headmistress helplessly watched you slip out of the studio with a sullen expression, lips sucked between her teeth thoughtfully.

Your eyes were unfocused as you trudged through the pristine halls, mind clouded with unease. Absent-mindedly fiddling with your loose tie as you approached the photography club, you pulled out your phone to send Yerim a quick message. Waiting patiently outside the door, a familiar beep pulled you from your thoughts, Yerim’s head popping out the door, a bright grin adoring her lips. “You made it!” She cheered, ushering you inside eagerly. Upon entering, your shoulders instantly tensed, Student Council President Kim Seokjin was standing stiffly in the room you’d presumed empty. “I didn’t know you had a guest,” you muttered, sending the stoic male a tight lipped smile.

“Feel free to explore the dark room while the President and I finish discussing the upcoming event.” Yerim lazily pointed towards the smaller door covered in vintage photos. Nodding curtly, you waltzed inside without a second thought, uncomfortable under Seokjin’s cold gaze. As you clicked the door shut behind you, their hushed voices became muffled. You purse your lips pensively, wondering why someone of such importance was loitering in a measly club room. Pushing the thought away, you glanced curiously around the room lit with red. A smile tugged at your lips when your eyes landed on a photograph that hung in the centre of the room.

Before you was the image Yerim had taken the previous evening, cherry blossoms falling while you sat blissfully unaware on the bench below. A brief smile tugged at your lips before your eyes travelled to another photograph in the far corner, brows raising in curiosity. Taking an inquisitive step forward, you squinted at the displayed image, a smirk rising to your lips. Due to its faded, hazy nature, you were certain to be the first to see it. It had only just been developed after all. The sound of light footfall had you rushing to pluck it from its place, quickly folding the paper and slipping it into your blazer pocket.

“Sorry about that,” Yerim apologised upon entering the room, sending you a bashful smile. “It’s not a problem,” you assured, glancing back at the photograph of yourself. “What do you think?” She asked nervously, following your gaze to the image she’d claimed was her best. “I think you’re very talented,” you uttered sincerely, hands clasped behind your back. “Really?” She grinned sheepishly, shifting her weight from one leg to another as she scratched the back of her neck. You merely hummed in response, eyes glued to the expertly taken photograph. “Come with me,” she dragged you from the room by your arm, suddenly overcome with a burst of confidence.

You chuckled in amusement as she sat you down before a blank white canvas, her smile blindingly bright. “Have you ever painted before, Y/n?” She questioned, a mischievous glint in her eyes as you shook your head. “You seem like the type to have never gotten messy,” she muttered. You glanced down to your crisply ironed uniform, a stark contrast to Yerim’s crumpled shirt that was stained with paint. Stalking off to a nearby shelf, she came back with various coloured paints.. “Take your pick,” she held them up to you expectantly, pleased when you complied.

Handing you a brush, she began to squeeze the coloured paint onto a palette before presenting it to you. “What am I supposed to do?” You asked dumbly, staring at her with furrowed brows. “Anything,” Yerim encourages with a gentle smile, watching intently as you bring your hand up to the canvas. You let your hand guide you, uncertainty present with each brush stroke. “You’re too tense,” Yerim observed, carefully eyeing the canvas with squinted eyes. “Then what do you suggest I do?” You asked, gazing up to her expectantly. “I think you need to get a little messy,” she smirked, dipping her finger into some dark red paint. Not a second later her hand was flying towards your face, finger swiping across your nose and a proud grin adorning her lips.

You screeched at the cold sensation, nose scrunched as you stared at Yerim in utter disbelief. The smiling girl raised her hands in surrender as a smirk began to creep onto your lips, hand reaching for the paint. A loud squeal ripped from her lips as you copied her previous actions, dipping your hand into a purple paint and ruthlessly smearing it across her face. The two of you stared blankly at each other for mere seconds before breaking out into a fit of uncontrollable laughter, closely followed by Yerim chasing you around the room with red stained hands. Melodious laughter bounced from the walls, the student council historian launching herself at you with a cheerful giggle.

Her red hands landed on your shoulders as the two of you toppled over, Yerim landing atop you with a thud. You winced as your back hit the marble floor, but a wide smile spread across your face at the sight of her toothy grin. Her dark locks fell perfectly around your face, chocolate brown orbs swirling with delight as she gazed into your eyes. With glossy pink lips sucked between her teeth, she traced your features with her purple finger tip, smiling giddily as you complained about the ticklish sensation. Yerim gulped harshly upon realising how your faces were now only mere inches apart, blinking owlishly as she pushed herself off your with an awkward smile.

Clearing your throat, you rose to your feet, Yerim avoiding your gaze at all costs. “I think I’d better get going,” you announced, dusting off your clothes. The historian hummed absentmindedly, staring thoughtfully at the canvas. “I hope we can do this again sometime Yerim. I had fun,” you admitted, slipping out of the room without waiting for a response. Upon catching sight of your paint stained uniform, you breathed out a heavy sigh, knowing it would be troublesome to clean. Scurrying off to your dorm silently, you shoved your hands into your pockets as you trudged down the familiar stone path.

A sudden grin broke out on your face as your fingers met a piece of crumpled paper hidden within your blazer pocket. Your mind raced with endless thoughts on the journey back, whistling a cheery tune as you approached your room, running to paper between your thumb and forefinger. Pushing the familiar numbered door open after scanning your key card, you stumbled into your room, pulling the paper from your pocket excitedly. You scanned the paper carefully, squinting at the image before you as you tried to make out every blurred detail. Tensing at the feeling of two strong arms wrapping around your torso, you shrieked in surprise.

“Sooyoung!” You yelled incredulously at the tall girl who rested her chin atop your shoulder. “Where were you?” She whined, pulling you impossibly closer. “Nowhere,” you managed to stutter out, trying to conceal the photograph in your pocket, but Sooyoung was quick to snatch it from your hand. “What’s this?” She questioned, eyes widening by tenfold upon closer inspection of the image. “It’s nothing!” You squeaked out, trying to snatch it back, but she held it just out of your grasp. “Y/n.” Sooyoung spoke, voice eerily calm. “Would you care to explain why you have a photo of Mr Kim kissing-” You slapped your hand over her mouth with wide eyes, hearing a light footfall just outside your dorm door.

“I promise I’ll explain, just promise you can keep a secret.”

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