Lines We Cross ||Front Man x Reader||

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" 

Before I could even react, In-ho grabbed my arm and yanked me forward, slamming me against the wall. It took a second for my brain to catch up with what just happened. Our faces were inches apart, his dark eyes boring into mine.

His grip fucking hurt. Like, genuinely, it felt like he was trying to make a point through sheer pain alone.

I had always seen In-ho as cold and detached, but right now, there was something else in his expression. Something unpredictable. It wasn't fear that crept up my spine, though it was nerves. The man had anger issues, sure, but this was different.

And obviously, being me, I had to make things worse. DUH.

"Do you know Jun-ho?" I whispered, staring straight into his eyes.

For a split second, I swear I saw his eyes widen, just slightly, before narrowing again.

His jaw clenched, and his grip on my arm got even tighter. He pinned me harder against the wall, and the silence stretched out .

"In-ho?" I said, louder this time. Still no response.

So I asked again, because clearly, I had no survival instincts. "Do you know Hwang Jun-ho?"

That was it.

He didn't say a word, he just moved fast as hell. His hand left my arm, only to wrap around my throat instead.

Firm. Controlled. Not choking, but close enough to let me know he could, and would, if he wanted to.

"Y/N," he said, his voice quiet but sharp enough to cut. "I gave you simple fucking instructions. And what do you keep doing, huh? What is it you just have to fucking do?"

His grip tightened, not enough to cut off all the air but enough to make me feel it. Enough to make my heartbeat spike.

"Don't expect me to behave," I said, smirking despite myself.

His jaw twitched, and I could feel his grip tighten further. This time, it wasn't a warning. It was deliberate.

His voice dropped lower. "Don't make me regret keeping you alive."

It was starting to hurt now. Really hurt. I clawed at his arm, trying to get him to ease up, but he didn't budge.

"Let me go," I said, my voice strained.

He stayed quiet, his eyes locked on mine, and for some reason, it felt like he was studying me, like he was trying to figure out what the fuck I was thinking.

"In-ho," I said again, his name rolling off my tongue with what little breath I had left.

Still nothing.

"In-ho you're hurting me." I repeated, my voice breaking this time.

And then, all at once, he did.

He let go so suddenly that I almost lost my balance, stumbling forward before catching myself on the wall. My chest heaved as I tried to catch my breath, one hand instinctively going to my neck. It fucking hurt, and I knew there'd be marks there later.

I looked up at him, still gasping, and his face was as blank as ever. But his eyes, they told a different story. I wasn't sure what it was exactly, but it was there.

"You're a fucking psycho," I muttered, my voice raspy.

He ignored me. Instead, he grabbed my face, forcing me to look up at him. His fingers pressed just enough to hold me still.