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The leaked pictures hit the press the next morning. When 2PM arrives on the set you are submitted to cat calls while Junho gets congratulated with slaps on the butt. Annoyed you look over at them, “Really guys? Why do I get the smart remarks and he gets congratulations?” Wooyoung leans in to stage whisper, “Because if we slap you on the butt, he’ll hurt us.” With that the group walks off laughing and joking, leaving you to roll your eyes and shake your head. The men that you work with seemed to glance in your direction more than usual. You were going to have to find out just which pictures had been leaked. The females at work act pretty much as you guessed; they are either, snide and cruel or they want intimate details. You just smile at both sets, shrug your shoulders and go about your work. For the most part, things go much better than you expect. By afternoon you are no longer looking over your shoulder to see if someone is there with a knife. At the last call of cut, the director walks you to your locker to grab your bag. Written in lipstick across the front is the word, “SLUT”. You proceed to open it and remove your bag. You check that nothing has been added to it or stolen as the director calls the detectives. You send Junho a quick text that something happened and you’ll be delayed. As he comes around the corner, you can tell the instant he notices the problem. Though angry, he comes over and puts his arm around you. “You alright?” You nod, you all knew it was coming; it could have been something much worse. As the director hangs up he turns to you, “Well, this confirms it's someone in the company. I’m pressing charges for willful destruction of property. Let’s hope it was a used tube of lipstick so there is some DNA.” His phone rings again, he holds up a finger, and heads off take his call. Employees begin to wander over to collect their items as they leave for the day. Some are truly shocked and sympathetic. A few; however, make snide comments, purposefully loud enough for you to hear. You try to ignore them, and Junho sends death glares but nothing stops them until the director walks back over. “You approve?” he asks them, motioning to the locker. One brave girl pipes up; “Well if the shoe fits,” which starts them all laughing. The director singles her out and gets right in her face. “Personal feelings don’t belong on the job site. When you are here you are expected to be the professional I pay you to be. This,” he gestures wildly at the lockers, “is a destruction of company property and charges will be filed. If any of you are involved or know who is, it would be better to put your pettiness aside and tell me before you end up in a Korean jail cell.” That stops the jokes cold, a look of disbelief crosses their faces. “But, it’s only lipstick! It comes off with cleaner, look.” As the P.A. goes to wipe off a spot of lipstick, Junho grabs her arm. “Unless you want it to be ‘your’ DNA they find in there, I wouldn’t do that.” She looks shocked and outraged, “You’re serious? This is a harmless prank! She’s now dating an idol so she suddenly gets royalty status? No jokes allowed?” “No,” the director says in a flat, quiet voice, “she is an employee. That entitles her to a safe work environment which excludes sexual harassment. It doesn’t matter that we are in a different country; our laws still apply on our sets. I won’t say it again; childish behavior is to be kept at home, not at work!” The detectives from the other day have walked up while the director is chewing out the subordinates. “We totally agree,” they add to the conversation. “In fact, why don’t you ladies all just open up your lockers for us?” Huff and puffs go around, “We don’t have to, didn’t you just hear our boss? Our laws pertain on our sets and we’re American citizens, we have rights.” The director hands the detectives a master key, “As acting representative of said company, go for it.” Those that had not taken their purses or bags out yet had to wait for those to be searched also. “I have several different shades here,” the younger detective shows you, “but none match the locker.” He redistributes the items to the P.A.’s and tells them all to leave. “We’ll take several different samples to try and get DNA, the CSI will be here to pull all the trash from the day also.” He looks over at the director, “You really want to press charges?” The director nods, “Yes, if it means stopping this nonsense before someone gets hurt again.” “Very well, come with me.” It took another two hours before you could leave the set. They frisked you and Junho to make sure you hadn’t done it yourself and pocketed the evidence. They even went through your bags and Junho’s car. When you arrive back at his home, not even the cat’s greetings and purring can cheer you up. “I feel so filthy," you shudder. "Like I’m the one that's done something wrong.” Junho drags you into the kitchen, “Let’s feed you.” He quickly reheats leftovers from the fridge,“Sorry, it’s the quickest.” You shrug, “No worries, I’m not all that hungry.” Towards the end of dinner he excuses himself and disappears; you can hear the water turn on upstairs. You figure he's gone to shower and get up to take care of the dishes. A hand appears from behind you; removing the dishes and placing them back on the table. You look up at him quizzically but just get a full smile in return. “Come,” he commands as he takes your hand and leads you to the upstairs bathroom. When you enter the bathroom, the smell of vanilla fills the air. Looking over you can see steam rising from the bathtub. Bubbles haven’t quite reached the top yet, but they are close. You look back at him in surprise, his only response is to start undressing you. You laughingly smack at his hands, “Do you think of nothing else?” He looks injured, “Me? Madam, I have drawn a luxurious bath for you and this is the thanks I get?” You toss your shirt and pants in the corner and look over at him, “So, you aren’t joining me?” His eyes sparkle as he pulls his t-shirt over his head, “Well, they did frisk me too.” He climbs in first and holds his hand out to you. Careful not to slip and fall into him, you slowly maneuver in between his legs. With your back resting against his chest, his shoulder as a pillow, and all this steamy water; you could just drift off. That feeling is allowed for about five minutes and then hands start roaming. “You could at least put some soap on those and try to have an excuse.” “I didn’t think I needed excuses, but if you insist.” He reaches over for the soap and lathers up his hands. You move your hair aside so he can get to your back. “I don’t remember them frisking you here,” he comments but dutifully continues. “Let’s see though; they patted you down here,” he holds your arms straight out. “And really close to here,” he comments as hands journey down your arm undersides and cross to the front. “I don’t believe I let them touch me there,” you whisper. “Hmm, that’s good; I would have been angry.”
it's just I don't um go any further cuz um... I'm still innocent. *cover my eyes, peeking at you
Mom, listen, I'm not married but I have an imagination. where you think I come up with my fanfics, I've written most of them with my own experiences. lol
I wanna get married and do all these things we conjure up in real life though, exclude any of the stalker fans and creepers
another one!!? daebak!!! *Goes and reads 23*
Omg the comments are almost as good as the fanfic 😂👍🏻
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