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noxitsnox · 2 days ago

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⸻𝑺worn 𝑻o 𝑩oth

summary: Two men, two sets of hands. Once a servant, now one of Thaldoria's most promising knights, the King has given you a test—Protect the prince until his twenty-fourth birthday. Only then will you receive your knighthood. Soon, your trial isn't just honor and loyalty—you find yourself tangled between the man you've sworn to serve and the man you've vowed to protect. What happens when you find yourself in the prince's bed with the captain at your back?

pairing: prince!heeseung x knight!reader x captain!jay

genre: fantasy au, smut, romance

This content is only for readers 18+

content warning: strong language, fantasy violence, injury, war themes, power dynamics, love triangle → poly ending, making out/kissing, marking, grinding, fingering, dirty talk, praise kink, explicit smut (oral and penetrative sex, threesome/“taking turns”) creampie, brief deep throating, lots of pussy eating, reader is described with long hair.

word count: 19.2K

m.list!

“You can hit harder than that.”

Your grip around your sword tightens as you hold it at your side. The sun is at its highest point in the sky. The large castle casts a shadow across the training grounds.

You raise your sword, muscles straining as you swing the sharp metal ahead.

Your sparring partner swiftly blocks your attack. You grit your teeth, straining your shoulders and chest as you push down harshly on your weapon.

Your partner lets out a deep chuckle as he pushes up on his own sword, the momentum catching you off guard, causing you to stumble back.

The wind gets knocked out of your chest as your body hits the ground, and the tight armor cast to your skin softens the impact.

“That’s better,” your partner says, his voice dropping an octave as he sheathes his sword, striding across the grounds to offer you a hand.

You smile as you take it, and he grips his fingers around yours tightly as he helps you up from your fall.

His hands hesitate before dropping at his sides. Eyes locked on your own as he squints from the harsh rays of the sun.

“Thank you, Captain.” You whisper as he gives your hand a soft squeeze before dropping it from his grasp.

“How are you feeling about the courting call tonight?” Jay asks as he watches you retrieve your lost sword from the ground. You let out a nervous laugh as you sheath the weapon back at your side.

“Exited and Terrified," you reply, your eyes glancing up to look into his. You can’t help but focus on the dark amber of his eyes.

Your heart skips a beat as he smiles down at you, and he gives you a commanding pat to the shoulder.

“You know, for my trial I had to venture into the forest of Syndor—was told to slay an ogre and come back with its head.” The captain states.

“Wow, sounds gruesome.” You reply sarcastically, the image making your face scrunch up from discomfort.

“Well, I didn’t just come back with one, I came back with three—” The captain replies, letting his hand slide from your shoulder down the outside of your arm.

The gesture makes you shiver even though he isn’t touching any skin. Even overtop your armor, he makes your heart race.

Jay Park, Captain of the Guard—sworn to lay down his life for the kingdom of Thaldoria.

But when the uniforms come off?

To you, he’s just Jay.

The boy who snuck into the laundry room to bring you apples when he knew you were overworked and hungry.

The boy who took a hit for you when you accidentally sewed the library curtains together inside out.

His voice snaps you out of your trance.

“I guess what I'm trying to say is—No matter what trial the king assigns to you, I’m confident you’re more than capable.”

Your breath hitches as his hand slides to your waist. Your heart races as you start to internally panic.

His hands, on your body, both in uniform—underneath broad daylight.

“I want nothing more than for you to be at my side—As a part of my Aurelian Guard,” Jay whispers, his voice dropping another octave as he pulls you in closer by the waist.

The metal of your armor crashes into his—it's cold, but you can still feel the simmering of flames beneath.

“You have no idea how much this trial means to me.” You whisper back, your voice cracking with emotion as it overwhelms you at once.

The trials were a necessary step into knighthood. After years of physical training, the king decides on a personalized trial for each one of his knights-in-training.

Only upon completion of the trial would you officially receive your knighthood and join the royal Aurelian Guard.

If you were to complete your trial to the fullest, that would be a life of service to the royal family—taking orders only from the captain and the king himself.

Life at the castle is all you know. By now, you know each room and closet inside and out.

You don’t remember your family; to your knowledge, they're dead.

It’s not like you’d want to remember the woman who abandoned you outside the castle grounds before you could even speak.

Madam Colley took you in. She was one of the castle's many dishwashers, treating you as her own daughter. Through her is how you learned to read and write, to polish, to sew.

You so desperately want your knighthood to prove that her sacrifices and efforts weren’t in vain.

Jay clears his throat, frantically pulling away from you as another guard crosses the gardens.

“His majesty summons you both.” The guard announces with a stoic voice.

Your brows furrow as you glance from the guard back to Jay.

King's orders.

The large doors of the castle's throne room open as you and Jay arrive. You nervously straighten your hair and sword before you walk beside him down the expanse of the throne room.

The ceilings reach immense heights, and chandeliers illuminate the room, giving it a warm glow. Massive stained glass windows with a variety of art line the walls.

The carpet drags at your boots as you keep your shoulders back, walking straight until you reach the foot of the king's throne.

You swiftly kneel at his feet, forearm resting on your knee as you duck your head. Next to you, the sound of armor rustling announces that Jay has done the same.

The king sits boldly on his gold-plated throne. The chair is lined with rubies and all sorts of precious minerals.

At his side sits his son—Thaldoria’s only heir.

“My captain, my most promising knight,” the king announces, his voice deep with vigor as he stands up from his throne.

You keep your head tucked, letting your hair fall across your shoulders as you bow in submission.

The prince watches from his throne as his father steps down from the podium. The king's steps are heavy as he unsheathes his own sword, tapping either side of Jay’s shoulders.

“My Captain, you may rise.”

Jay lets out a sigh of relief as he stands up from his kneeling position.

You keep your head down, just like you were told.

“My most promising knight…” The king continues as he strides to where you are kneeling. The cold metal of his sword taps against the strength of your armor.

“You may rise.”

You let out a shaky breath as you ground your footing, trembling as you stand sharply before the king and his heir.

You shudder as the prince sits back, his eyes scanning you up and down.

It makes you shiver; you’re not used to having this many eyes on you.

“My promising knight and captain, I apologize for the unexpected nature of this calling, but there is something I can no longer delay,” The king continues. He swiftly turns on his heel, sitting back with dominance.

“As captain, I’m sure you know of the ongoing tension between Thaldoria and our neighboring kingdoms.”

“Yes, your majesty,” Jay replies as he sets his hands behind his back, standing tall with honor.

“It’s come to my attention that there are rogue organizations, spies if you will, that want to dismantle the hierarchy of this kingdom.” The king continues.

Your eyes dart around the room, between the king, the captain, and the prince.

“Now my son, my one and only heir, is a target for these organizations that wish to see Thaldoria’s destruction.” The King says roughly.

His dark eyes lock onto you, and a shiver shoots through your body at the cold glance.

“As your trial, your only focus is to guard my son until his twenty-fourth birthday,” The King states.

“Keep my son alive and the very day he turns twenty-four, I will bestow your knighthood upon you, and you will be granted the honor of joining the Aurelian Guard under the ranks of my captain.”

You let out a shaky breath.

This is it, your trial, your only chance—

Your stomach churns; the only heir to the throne is now your responsibility. One slip-up and the entire kingdom could fall into ruin.

You bow, your heart beating heavy and fast as you process the weight of the king's words.

Your ears ring, your palms sweat.

But this is your duty, your honor, your chance.

“It would be my greatest honor to protect Thaldoria’s heir, Your Highness.” You speak with sharp vigor.

Jay stands proud at your side, his face stoic, but his pride for you is starting to crack through.

The prince glances down at you, his expression unchanging as he lightly grips the arms of his throne.

Protect him, at all costs, and knighthood is yours.

The king straightens in his throne as you come up from your bow, and he gives the two of you one last glance.

“Your trial starts now. The two of you are now dismissed for duty.”

You and Jay turn on your heels to leave the throne room, and the walkout is long—too long.

The second the doors shut, you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding.

“Oh my god…” You stumble, feeling lightheaded as you lean breathlessly up against one of the castle's many shadowed walls.

“Hey…this is not what I was expecting either,” Jay groans as he runs a hand through his dark hair with a frustrated sigh.

“I knew he would do something like this—set you up,” Jay mutters with frustration as his hand slaps loudly against the castle wall. His chest rises and falls as he struggles to control his breathing.

“You really think it's a setup?” You ask weakly, your throat being choked with emotional barbed wire as the king's words repeat over again in your mind.

Jay swallows a shaky breath as his hand slides from the cold stone of the walls to cup your face. His skin is warm against your own.

You shudder as you lean into his touch. The rest of the castle—the rest of the world—felt cold in that moment.

“I trust you, I really do, but this is huge, this is something the entire guard should handle, not just you,” Jay speaks more so to himself than anything.

His eyes are half-lidded as he looks down at you, the shadowed hall hiding you from the rest of the business of the castle.

He licks his lips as his thumbs trace your jawline before he mindlessly brushes them across your soft lips.

“Jay…” You whisper your voice shaking as his name falls from your lips.

No “Captain”—just Jay.

Jay gently tucks a strand of loose hair behind your ear, his eyes locked onto your own.

He lets out a shaky breath as he pushes you up into the cold brick walls. The sound of your armor against his echoes in the empty castle hall.

One of his hands slides to your waist as the other lifts your chin. He leans in, breath ghosting against your own soft lips.

He’s trembling; you can feel it. Maybe it's adrenaline from the trial, maybe it's because he knows he shouldn’t be doing this.

“I know I shouldn’t do this…but I’m dying to kiss you,” Jay confesses, his voice shaky with need as his leg slots between your own. The cold metal of your armor is far from strong enough to drown out the warmth.

He leans in once more, giving you space to protest.

And when you don’t, he crashes his lips into yours.

You whimper at his touch. Your mouth moves against his, hot and heavy as your hands tangle in his dark hair.

Jay kisses you harder, pushing your body up into the wall even more as he aches to feel you between all the layers.

You gasp into his mouth, his lips sucking softly at your own. He moans as he savors the taste, pulling away only for a moment.

“I’ve wanted to do this for years—fucking years,” Jay confesses as he crashes his lips back into yours.

You moan as you try to keep up with his movements; his tongue gently traces the seam of your soft lips. He tilts his head, gently slipping his tongue into your mouth.

You gasp as his tongue gently brushes against yours. You pull away breathless, grip tightening in his hair.

“We can’t, not here, not now.” You pant against his lips.

Jay lets out a soft chuckle as he leans in to give your lips another gentle kiss. His lips release your own softly as his hands slide from your waist to your stomach.

“I’ve imagined this so many times—your lips on mine, my hands on your perfect body,” Jay whispers as he lazily kisses you again. His lips featherlight against your own, only making the heat grow stronger.

“I’ve been trying to run from this…” You whisper as you kiss him again, your lips seeking his as your hands slide down the outside of his strong biceps.

“I’m tired of all this running. You’re worth the risk,” Jay whispers, his voice deep and hoarse against your lips.

His hands slide back to your waist, his breath hitching as he pulls your body back into his own.

“You know I always sleep with my chambers unlocked.” Jay murmurs, his voice catching in his throat as he rocks his body gently into the strength of yours.

“Is that an invitation, Captain?” You tease, your lips dragging down his jawline, that perfect fucking jawline.

“It’s an invitation if you don’t want to walk straight.” Jay moans as your soft lips press sharp kisses to the column of his throat.

“Might take you up on that offer—” You whisper, chucking deeply against his skin as your hands slide across the cool metal of his armor.

“I’ve seen what we can do on the battlefield; imagine what we could do in bed,” Jay confesses as his breath hitches, his grip on your waist tightening as your lips gently suck on the sensitive skin of his neck.

“You seem confident,” you reply mindlessly. Your hands loosely trace his armor, your lips leaving a soft mark along the tan skin of his neck.

“You seem eager,” Jay mumbles as he lets out a soft hiss from the sensation. You can’t help but leave another small mark on his skin.

After all, no one will ever know it was you.

“We still have duty tonight, dinner with the royal family.” You whisper as you pull away, your fingertips tracing your creation.

Jay gasps as you trace the marks left on his neck. He chuckles nervously at your words.

“Well, that won’t take all night, will it?” Jay replies, his hands still holding your waist tight.

“Besides, it’s been months since I’ve seen you without your armor.”

Your foot taps against the ground impatiently as you wait outside the prince's quarters.

He’s running late.

A frustrated sigh leaves your lips as you raise your hand, hovering your tightened fist above the oak wood of the door.

Your palms sweat as you hear rustling on the other side. There’s no way his bathing has taken this long.

And showing up late to dinner on the first day of your trial is not a good look.

You’ve had enough, and it’s only your first day on the job.

A loud bang echoes through the hall as you let your tight fists collide with the oak wood of the door.

You knock once, twice.

“Your Highness! Your father expected you in the dining hall ten minutes ago!” You shout through gritted teeth, your fists pulsing from the aggression of your knocking.

“Bloody hell, woman, I’m almost ready,” The prince calls out. His voice strained as you hear more rustling on the other side of the door.

You let out another frustrated groan as you pace back and forth in front of the door.

After a few more minutes, the lock on the door clicks open.

You whip your head around to see the prince step out of his chambers, his cheeks flushed and hair still slightly damp. His attire also slightly askew.

“What—”

“Don’t.” He interrupts deeply. His eyes narrow as he brushes past you, knocking into your shoulder.

Your blood boils at the gesture. You follow behind him, anger filling your stride as you weave in and out of the castle halls you know all too well.

“Your father isn’t going to be happy.” You murmur as your footing stops right in front of the grandiose door leading into the royal dining hall.

The prince clicks his tongue, not giving you another word as you open the door for him.

He slides past you carelessly as he steps into the hall. The chatter at the table abruptly comes to a stop.

“Well. Look who finally decided to show up," The king says sternly, his gaze darkening as he looks between you and his son.

The prince doesn’t give an apology—damn, he’s really got some nerve.

You shut the doors behind you as quietly as you can; the sound still echoes off the vast walls in the silence.

Slowly, the sound of pristine silverware against fine china picks up again as the rest of the table attends to their meal.

You glance at Jay as he stands guarded in the corner, his eyes scanning the doors and windows—completely focused on his duty.

The sound of your footsteps against the hard flooring of the dining hall rings through your ears as you walk down the side of the room, standing on guard behind the prince.

He slouches in his large, vast chair, his father clearing his throat as the prince sits right next to him.

“Well, Prince Heeseung, I’m going to need your help creating a guest list for the Annual Endermorn Ball. I want you to start fostering connections with Thaldoria’s nobles.” The king instructs between fistfuls of his feast.

“Whatever you say, Father,” Heeseung replies as he starts to load up his own plate with a variety of meat and vegetables.

“You know, you’re going to be king sooner rather than later.” Heeseung’s father says as he sets down his utensils against his plate.

“You still have a lot of work to do before then, and gosh, you’re already nearly twenty-four.” The Queen chimes in with a sweet voice. You watch the rest of the exchange, hands fidgeting in your lap as you keep your expression stoic.

“Your mother and I were already married and expecting you when we were your age.” The King finishes.

You watch as Heeseung’s shoulders tense, and he tosses his vegetables around on his plate as he leans over the table.

You can only imagine the pressure he's underneath. With the King and Queen, the entire kingdom of Thaldoria was watching his every move. Planning every blessed moment of his life.

“You know the Duke of Castleweys' daughter, she’s beautiful, rich—” The queen starts.

“No.” Heeseung interrupts, his fists slamming against the table harshly as he trembles. His lip quivers as he speaks again.

“I don’t want to host anymore balls, and I don’t want any part of these goddamn courts.” He replies, his voice stuttering as it gets caught in his throat.

“Language," the queen corrects from across the table, her gaze narrowing.

“You’re too old to be playing these games, son. Do you want this bloodline to end shamefully with you?” The king stands up harshly. His voice grows rougher as he pushes his chair aside.

Heeseung breaks. He stands up from his chair, knocking it to the ground. The sound makes you flinch.

“I—I, Don't—” Heeseung gasps.

“No more of this. This has gone on longer than your mother and I would prefer to admit. If your selfish behavior doesn’t change, we’re going to have to start making these choices for you. Do you understand?” The king instructs.

Heeseung locks his jaw, his hands ball into fists at his sides.

He doesn’t reply back or argue.

With one last glance, he’s turning on his heel and swiftly making way out of the hall.

The silence is loud as the grand doors slam behind him. The king and queen glance hopelessly at each other.

And that's the last thing you see before your feet are carrying you out of the very same door right after the prince.

“Your Highness!” You call out softly as you adjust your sword at your side. The king's words ring in your ears. You can’t let go of how tense Heeseung looked as he took everything.

You follow him down the halls, weaving in and out of the servants and maids going about their duties.

Heeseung climbs his way back to his chambers, slamming the door hard and loud.

You pant as you follow a few paces behind him, your chest rising and falling as you finally reach that same large set of oak doors.

“Your Highness,” you whisper weakly from the other side of the door. Unlike before dinner, your hands now rest flat against the smooth oak.

You close your eyes as you process the scene. The sternness in the king's voice, the manipulation in the queen's.

The way they talked down on their own son, seeing him as nothing more than an heir and a crown.

“Why are you still here?” Heeseung snaps, his voice shaking as you hear it come through the other side of the door.

“Because it’s my duty, I’m to guard you at all times—”

“So this is about yourself?” He snaps, interrupting your soft voice before you can even finish.

You gasp, your brows furrowing as your heart swells. You can hear just how hurt he is just from his voice. The way the sharpness covers up the wounds beneath.

“No, that's not—Your Highness," you whisper. Your own voice is shaky with emotion as you nervously shift on your feet.

Before you can finish, you hear footsteps, swiftly followed by the click of the door.

You fall back as the grand door swings open. Heeseung stands before you, his jacket now tossed to the cold hard ground, his crown thrown away with it.

His hair is still slightly damp from earlier, his eyes glassy as he scans you up and down.

This isn't the same man who watched you accept your trial in the throne room this morning.

“Can I come in?” you ask softly.

Heeseung hesitates before he nods. Stepping aside to let you through the two large doors into his dimly lit room.

The soft scent of amber and musk hits your senses as your eyes adjust to the darkness.

The doors shut quietly after you enter, leaving just you and the prince alone in his grand bedroom.

There's a large window, the light blocked by thick curtains. Making the room to feel all the more moodier. A few scattered candles give the room the remainder of its light.

“Do you think I want any of this?” Heeseung whispers, his voice soft and cracking as he slowly starts to close the distance between you.

You watch as his gaze darkens, his strides heavy as he crosses the expanse of the room.

You fall back against the large windowsill, and the deep crimson curtains frame the glass, keeping the room hidden from the outside world.

Heeseung sits right next to you. He lets out a deep sigh as he pushes his dark hair out of his face, his knees so close they could touch your own.

“The balls, the courting, the dinners? You think I want that?” Heeseung whispers, his eyes flick up to meet yours.

You pause, silent. As a knight, you know it's your place to stay quiet

“No. I think that doesn’t sound like something I would want for myself either. I can only imagine how hard it is to have your family treat you like nothing more than a crown.” You reply, your gaze softening as you glance over his features in the low light.

The shadows dance across his face. The candlelight highlights his honey-toned skin, his round dark eyes, the curve of his soft lips—

“You shouldn’t be this close.” Heeseung whispers, his voice dropping an octave.

You flinch as his hand softly brushes against your own, just the edge of his fingertip. But it's enough to send a sharp shiver down your entire body.

“Yeah, I shouldn’t be, but no one deserves to get talked to like how the king did to you in the dining hall,” you finish. Your heart aches for him with empathy.

“Yeah, my father, he can be cruel at times.” Heeseung whispers, his voice rough as he pulls it from his chest with strength.

He leans in, his breath shaky as it mingles with your own. Your heart pounds in your ears.

He’s close, too close.

The prince of Thaldoria, the one and only heir to the throne.

You can hardly breathe.

Because right now his gaze is locked on your lips, and you don't see a crown.

You see a man who's aching.

His free hand gently brushes past your hair; his fingertips feel the softness of the strands between them.

“I-I haven’t been this close to anyone, ever.” He confesses, his voice choking up with emotion as he gently slips his fingertips between your own.

“Your Highness is anyone sees—”

“They won't.” He interrupts, his breath shuddering as his large hand softly squeezes your own.

He leans in, his sweet lips close, so close.

Heeseung trembles, his chest heaving, hand weak against your own, his lips quivering as he struggles to hold back.

In an instant, he's pulling away from you, and all that warmth is taken with it.

He puts his head in his hands, groaning with frustration.

“This is insanity…” Heeseung moans with a weak chuckle of disbelief.

“Your High—”

“It’s late, you should go.” He instructs softly. His own breath still trembling as he forces himself to stand up from the windowsill.

He doesn’t give you another glance.

You snap back to your purpose. You are to protect him as his knight, as his guard.

The sound of your boots against the hard floor of his chambers is loud in the stillness as you stride across the room, your hand resting delicately on the door handles.

You glance over your shoulder to look at the prince one more time—

And then you’re slipping through the large oak doors without another word.

“You know I always sleep with my chambers unlocked.”

Jay.

The boy you’ve known for years. He’s seen you at your worst, seen you at your best.

Now there's this fire, this hunger for him that surpasses the name of duty.

His lips on yours were like something you’ve never experienced. Not with another man, not with anyone else.

And you so desperately want to give yourself to him in the way that only a woman can to a man.

The castle is quiet at this hour. You’re still on high alert about your trial, even with a seasoned guard looking after the prince while you sleep.

You bite your lip as you weave in and out of the castle halls. The weight of your sword left behind, your long dress dragging at your ankles.

You reach the modest door of Jay’s chamber. You’ve waited outside this door many times over the years.

But now with that invitation—

You knock quietly, enough for him to hear, but quiet enough that none of the other night staff notice.

The racing of your heart intensifies as you hear the sound of strong footsteps on the other side of the door. You nervously brush your damp hair over your shoulders, smoothing out the wrinkles in your attire.

Jay opens the door with a smirk on his face.

He knows you’d take him up on the offer.

And God, do you look stunning in the moonlight.

Jay bites his lip as he gently grabs your wrist, chuckling as he pulls you into his room.

Before you can even think, his strong arms are backing you up against the door, his hands slide down your hips before he locks the door handle with ease.

“God, you look incredible,” Jay whispers before he crashes his lips into yours.

Heat erupts throughout your whole body as his lips claim the softness of your own. His hands are rough, commanding as he slides them up from your hips to the dip in your waist.

“I haven’t seen you without armor in—God, I can’t even remember the last time.” Jay murmurs between messy kisses to your lips. You hum with satisfaction against his mouth as you kiss him back.

“Likewise, Captain,” You murmur against his lips as you both pull away, already gasping for air with heavy chests.

Jay chuckles deeply as you call him Captain. The title is somehow arousing now that it's just the two of you.

Sweat runs down his temples as he looks down at you, his hands reluctantly pull from your waist to grip the bottom of his loose shirt.

He pulls it up and over his head, exposing his strong, muscled figure. You glance at him with heavy eyes, scanning the dips and curves of his perfectly tan skin.

Deep scars line his abdomen and chest, a testament to his time as the captain of the guard.

“My God…” you murmur, your mouth going dry at the sight of him.

Jay bites his lip as he lets you take in his figure. You reluctantly slide your thumbs across the lines of his stomach, stopping right at the waistband of his pants.

He chokes on a moan at the gesture, his chest heaving and breath hot as you tease him with your touch.

Jay leans in, capturing your lips with a slow, tantalizing pace. He savors the sweetness of your lips. The corners of his mouth slide up into a smirk as he kisses you so intimately again.

You gasp as his large hands slide from your waist to your ass. He picks you up with ease, lips still delicate against the curve of your own.

He lies you down on the plush mattress of his bed. The sheets smell like fresh linen as the softness brushes against your skin.

Jay pulls away, his cheeks flushed, and his eyes soft as he looks down at your figure.

Your body is only adorned in a gown that leaves little to the imagination. The neckline is scandalous, and the corset over the top perfectly holds your assets in place.

Your skin and collarbone stand out against the sharp neckline, the soft linen delicate as it hugs each one of your curves.

“You are worth every single risk I’m taking,” Jay whispers, his voice shaking as he traces the hem just underneath your cleavage.

You’re breath hitches as you lean into the bed. Your hair is loose and spread around you like a soft halo. Your hands rest loosely atop the soft skin of Jay’s side.

“And so are you, my captain.” You reply, heaving from the heat only growing between you two.

Your words snap something in him.

Jay kisses you again like a thank you. He roughly sucks your bottom lip between his before pulling away.

His hands slide from your chest to your hips, his fingertips bunching in the fabric as he pushes it up inch after inch.

You’re soft legs are exposed to the cool air of his chambers, you shiver as more skin in revealed from beneath your dress.

A whimper slips past your lips as you bite them, trying to hold back just how much you’re aching for him in the same way. Jay smirks, pushing the rest of your fabric out of the way—

His eyes widen.

You have nothing on underneath.

Jay lets out a huff of disbelief, not expecting you to be as bold as you’ve proven to be in this department.

“Oh, you play dirty.” Jay mumbles, licking his lips as the sight of you’re bare sex exposed beneath the fabric of your dress.

You laugh weakly, thighs clenching together in search of relief.

Jay slides a hand between your thighs, his dark eyes locked on yours as he pushes your legs apart.

You watch as he lowers his head, his expression drunk on the sight of you.

Jay lets out a rough moan as his soft lips find the inside of your thighs, his breathing getting rougher with confined restraint.

“Do you have any idea how long I've been wanting to taste you?” Jay murmurs, his voice getting muffled as his lips drag against the soft inside skin of your thighs.

“I’ve never been so drawn to a woman as I have with you. You’re different.” Jay confesses between shaky, aroused breaths.

“Jay…please.” You moan, the teasing becoming unbearable as your core burns with need. Your thighs tremble around his head, shaking with a deeper ache.

Jay doesn’t waste another goddamn second of his life. He dives in, crying out with relief as he kisses your cunt.

You arch your back, eyes rolling back with just how euphoric his wet mouth feels between your thighs.

Jay’s grip on your legs tightens as he shivers, licking a long stripe from your slick entrance to your clit.

You gasp again, your hands pulling up the fabric of your dress to watch him dive into your folds.

Jay laps at your heat, his lips hungry and eager as they slide between every crevice, memorizing the spots that make you arch and moan.

His hands push your thighs further apart, his broad shoulders holding you open as he feasts on you like he hasn’t eaten in days.

Arousal drips from your entrance shamelessly as the sight, as you buck your hips against his face with each flick of his tongue to your sensitive clit.

“Holy stars, darling, you’re soaked.” Jay moans into your wet cunt.

You shiver, gasping, your chest heaving as your hands grip the linen sheets. He moans with satisfaction as his tongue flicks at your swollen clit before suckling it into his mouth.

You don’t hold back; you fall into his touch. Every moan, every shudder between your thighs at his touch only spurs you on.

You can feel how wet you are; your arousal runs down your back to the freshly laundered sheets. You feel the warm wetness against your back, seeping through the thin fabric of your dress.

“That's all for me, isn’t it?” Jay pulls away, gasping but not for long. He licks another frantic stripe from your hole to the sensitive top of your folds.

“Yeah, I’m soaked for you, Jay I—” You moan deeply as he dives back in, his tongue slipping into your hole to have another taste of the sweetness dripping for him. A deep moan gets torn from his chest as he fucks his tongue into you with no remorse.

The bedframe slaps against the wall, and it creaks beneath you as Jay ruins you with only his tongue.

Your thighs tremble, but his grip is sharper.

He holds you open, pulling his tongue out of your hole to gasp for much-needed air.

“You taste divine, sweeter than I imagined,” Jay murmurs as his eyes meet yours from below. His lips are swollen and pink from his work between your thighs. He smiles, completely drunk on your taste as he licks your arousal from his lips.

Jay leans back to finish the job. His hands slide up your thighs, bending your legs back to explore your wet, soaking folds to him even more.

You moan deeply as your knees hit the cool bedsheets. Your body twisted perfectly to let him fit between your thighs like he was made to live there.

Jay works on your clit again, starting with small, short licks that make your hips buck from the bed into his face. He smirks into your cunt as his hands tighten around your legs.

You feel a knot of heat being wound tightly in your stomach, you push it back, wanting to savor every blessed second of Jay ruining you with his tongue.

You’re wetter than you’ve been in your entire life, and the only thing that's been inside you is his tongue. You’re arousal soaks through the sheets onto the mattress below.

Jay makes out with your cunt like it's more important than his duty. His mouth pulls at your lower lips as he draws shameless cries from your throat.

“Want you to soak me when you come…can you do that for your captain?” Jay moans into your wet, swollen cunt.

You moan at his words, your back arching off the bed even more as he holds you down by the hips.

“I’m so close—” You moan as his tongue gives your clit a break to slide into the sweetness of your hole.

Jay moans in acknowledgment. His eyes flutter shut as he gently slides his tongue from your entrance.

He latches back onto your clit, alternating between flicking and sucking the bud between his lips. His name tears from your throat, broken, needy, desperate.

He sucks on your clit harder, the sensation teetering on the line between pleasure and pain.

Your hand flies from the sheet to tangle in his dark hair as you pull him in. He groans as his face is completely overwritten with your smell and taste.

“Right there, right there, Jay!—” You shamelessly cry out, your moans high-pitched and needy as you balance on the edge of release.

“Fucking come for me, darling.” Jay gasps into your ruined cunt.

You grip dark strands of hair between your fingertips as you cry out his name. You come hard, pussy clenching around nothing as you soak his face from below.

You gasp between wave after wave as you feel your body going limp with each second of your orgasm.

You come so loud you’re sure it can be heard from the next corridor down, not that you care. In this moment, all that matters is Jay.

“Fuck yes… that's it, you did so good, came so fucking good for me.” Jay coaxes as he places soft licks back to the overwhelmingly slick folds of your cunt.

Your grip on his hair releases as you recover from your pleasure. Your bare shoulders hit the mattress hard as you lie limp beneath him.

Jay licks your cunt clean, his eyes locked on yours as he cleans up the wet mess between your shaking thighs.

You gently urge him to pull away as the overstimulation becomes too much to bear. Jay gasps, his lips plumped and swollen. His chin glistening with your come.

He crawls up the bed, letting out a tired sigh as he plops down next to you. The mattress dips under your weight.

You turn to face him, cheeks burning from the afterglow as you smile.

Warmth spreads through your body as his hands reach your side, he lets your dress fall down your legs, Jay's eyes completely focused on your face.

“I…I don’t even have words.” Jay mumbles as he gently pushes a loose strand of hair out of your eyes.

You hum softly, leaning into his soothing touch as your body still buzzes from your orgasm.

“Can I stay here? Tonight?” You ask softly, your voice a shaky murmur as the quiet settles between the two of you.

“Of course, darling, what kind of man would that make me if I say no?” Jay whispers, he gently kisses your lips one more time before he pulls you into his body.

You tangle perfectly with him, your back against his front. His hips weakly roll into yours, already hard.

You moan at the gentle motions, the heat between you warming your entire body as you melt into his embrace.

“Tomorrow is another big day, you should rest,” Jay whispers, his lips dragging across the back of your neck before placing a soft kiss right beneath your ear.

“But you—we,” you stumble as you feel how hard and aching he is. Your heart tugs as you feel like you should return the favor—

The image makes your heart race, his cock buried deep inside you—making deep love to you.

You can’t help but let your mind wander, imagining being at his side in knighthood and as something more.

His mouth on your cunt could become a routine habit.

“Don’t worry about me, I feel amazing,” Jay whispers, his voice deep as he lets out another soft moan.

Jay's arms wrap tightly around you as you tangle in the sheets. You feel warm, protected, and safe.

You feel your eyelids getting heavy; your powerful orgasm must’ve drained what little energy you had left.

Jay senses the change in your breathing, and he gently kisses your shoulder before letting his own eyes drift shut.

“Sleep well, my darling.”

The warm rays of the morning sun slip through the cracks of the windows. The sunlight touches your face, its warmth waking you from your deep slumber.

You feel a set of strong arms wrapped tightly around your body. Jay starts to stir awake from the sun. His muscled chest pressing up against your back.

You yawn as the sunlight brightens, waking you up even more from your dazed state. The bed creaks beneath you as you flip over onto your shoulder, finding yourself face-to-face with Jay—soon to be Captain again.

“How did you sleep?” Jay murmurs, his lips tugging into a weak smile as he begins to wake.

“Better than I have in a long time.” You smile, the memories still fresh in your mind. Your body already feels strained and sore from the intensity of last night's events.

Jay gently kisses you, his lips soft, barely there.

You glance into his eyes as you pull away, heart hammering in your chest, as you hear the sounds of footsteps outside the door.

“Guess you are a man of your word,” you chuckle as the sheets pool at your waist. Your thighs are aching and burning already.

“You’re sore already?” Jay questions as his hand gently reaches out to touch your hip.

“Jay…” you whisper, as he bites his lip, pulling you back into his embrace.

“I want you to be quiet, okay? I can’t have anyone find out you’re sleeping with your captain.” Jay murmurs as his fingertips start to pull at the strings lacing up the back of your dress.

He glances at you for consent, his tanned skin warm under the morning sun.

His hands push the fabric down your shoulders. You shift awkwardly as he pulls all the layers off one by one.

You shiver as the cool air of morning hits your bare skin. Jay is right behind you, stripping himself down completely.

He guides you back like second nature as he uses his knees to prop open your thighs. Your breath is already heavy and shaky.

With confidence, Jay starts to kiss down your body, worshiping and tactfully.

You shiver beneath his touch, his wet, warm lips against your skin already pulling warmth from your core.

He dips his head without hesitation, his mouth moving lazily against your cunt.

Your hand slaps hard against your mouth as you moan. You close your eyes, muffling the sounds escaping your throat as he feasts on you again.

Jay kisses your cunt delicately. His lips gently circle your clit, giving it just enough attention to swell.

Once you start to drip, he pulls away with a gasp. Jay smiles down at your weak figure as he climbs back up into position.

He bites back a deep groan as the tip of his cock braces your entrance. He’s already leaking and hard against the folds of your cunt.

You melt into his embrace as he wraps his arms around your naked body, his hips slowly inch forward, splitting you open with sharp pleasure.

“That it…you’re doing so well,” Jay whispers, his voice hoarse as he gently drags his lips across your jaw.

You whimper at the stretch, holding back a cry as he pushes into you more.

“Just a few more inches, darling…” Jay murmurs as he slowly thrusts fully into you, hips slapping against yours as he bottoms out.

He lets out a low sound of pleasure as he starts to move, your cunt gripping him tight as he rocks into you gently.

“I can’t believe we're going to walk in that throne room after this, acting as if there's nothing between us,” Jay whispers against your skin, his eyes falling shut as he gently moves against you.

“I know…but trust me, this is worth every risk.” You whisper back, a moan slipping between your lips as Jay thrusts into you deep.

“What a way to start the morning, stuffed full of me—” Jay mumbles as his hands roam your figure. He mindlessly cups the weight of your breasts, his thumbs brushing across your peaked nipples.

“Jay...”

“Shh, just feel me, darling, feel what you do to me,” Jay murmurs as he picks up the pace and depth of his thrusts.

"Feel what you do to me."

You gasp desperately as the flushed tip of his cock kisses your cervix, once, then twice.

With a moan, you arch off the mattress, hand still covering your lips.

The bedframe gently hits the wall as Jay moves, and the scars embedded in his skin glint in the morning light.

You could get used to this.

Jay starts to moan with deeper vigor, sweat dripping down his temples as he claims you as his own.

“Can I come inside?” Jay questions breathlessly as he holds you tighter.

“Give me something to remember when I walk into that throne room.” You confess, your cunt squeezing him with every pull of his thrusts. He twitches inside you, his breath growing heavier.

And with a deep curse, he comes, holding your bare body tight against his as he pumps you full of his relief.

You moan as he paints the inside of your cunt with his pleasure; it's warm, seeping against your walls like he's meant to bury himself there.

You shudder, softly coming right behind him. Your cunt spasming around his cock as you release.

Jay drops his sweaty forehead, his biceps burning as he pants for breath.

The two of you stay just like that for a moment, breathless, fulfilled.

And for once, it’s not only from duty.

Jay whimpers as he reaches between your bodies, pulling his cock from inside your warmth.

With a deep groan, he watches his come leak from your hole, the scene only stirring him on.

“God, the things you do to me,” Jay murmurs as he watches his white come slowly drip from your swollen cunt.

With gentle hands, he helps you clean up and dress, his lips still finding ways to caress your skin as he puts you back together.

“I’ll see you in the throne room later…let us not forget our time together the past few hours,” Jay murmurs as he kisses you again. You pull away, hand resting on the door handle as time only ticks.

“I’ll see you later, Captain.” You reply with a soft smirk before you turn to slip out the door.

You tremble as you walk back to your own quarters, hoping no one saw you in your disheveled appearance slipping out of the Captain's chambers at dawn. Oh, the rumors that would circle.

And they would all be absolutely true.

You stood behind the prince as the family ate in silence. You felt like all eyes were somehow on you, between Jay’s knowing glances and the looks of support from the prince.

Tension between the royal family was still high. To your knowledge, the prince and his father had yet to speak again since the events of last night.

You tried to shake off the thoughts about Jay as you followed the prince out of the dining hall. Jay watched, smirking from a distance as his eyes followed you out.

Once the prince was out of earshot of his family, he visibly let out a heavy sigh of relief.

The two of you hadn’t spoken much over breakfast, but between knowing looks, the conversation from yesterday still weighed heavily on the prince's mind.

You followed him mindlessly around the castle, not wanting to overstep your role. Maybe it's because of your time with Jay, but for some reason, you had to keep reminding yourself of the trial.

No matter how hard he made you come, you couldn't let it get in the way of completing this.

“Will you accompany me to the gardens?” The prince asked awkwardly, clearing his throat as he stopped his wandering dead in his tracks.

“Of course, Your Highness.” You replied with a smile, following at his side as you reached the side doors leading from the castle to the gardens.

You grip your sword tightly as the sun's bright rays hit your skin. The light reflects off the silver of your armor, making you look all the more irresistible in the golden hour.

The prince slows his pace, his gaze flicking to look at you in the sunlight. His eyes scan the alluring color of yours before tracing the slope of your nose—

He finds himself staring at those perfectly shaped lips, the same ones he was so close to tasting just the evening before.

“How do you like it? Living at the castle, I mean.” The prince asked as he subconsciously closed some of the distance between you.

You continue to wander mindlessly along the paved path as it carves through rows of flowers and greenery. Always kept perfectly intact by the castle's staff.

“How much truth can you handle, Your Highness?” You reply with a weak laugh.

Heeseung smiles at the sound, his heart beating faster—no, you’re his knight, his protector, and only that.

“Lay it on as thick as you can.”

You take a deep breath, the emotions already starting to swell before you even get a word out.

Heeseung's hand accidentally brushes against yours. You flinch at his warmth, that same spark jolting through your body.

You don’t know exactly why, but you lace your fingertips with his.

This part of the gardens is hidden from the prying eyes of the castle. No one will see, and you just need something—anything to ground yourself in.

“Well, I’m sure you know, but I was abandoned when I was a baby. A servant named Madam Colley took me in as her own.” You suck in a breath as you continue.

“She taught me to read and write—after service hours, of course. Our days were filled with endless chores, laundry, and dishwashing.”

Heeseung’s expression changes. His brows furrow as he starts to think of all the things about the castle that go on in the shadows.

“I got lucky, because of Madam Colley, I was able to work my way up, from servant to seamstress, all the way to a knight in training.” You confess.

Heeseung looks stunned, all your life, all you’ve ever known is service to the king, to the castle—

“When this trial is over, I hope to use my salary to buy her a nice cottage on the outskirts, maybe Wydowfield? I feel like she would love it there.” You smile, gazing at all the nature surrounding you as you walk hand in hand with the prince.

“I had no idea you were a servant…” he whispers, his voice devoid of pity.

“I’ve never met anyone like you, you’re different.” Heeseung whispers.

“You’re different.” Those words were spoken by the captain last night…

You shake your head, drowning out the thoughts.

“What’s so different about me, Your Highness?” you ask curiously. The two of you continue to stroll at a leisurely pace.

“You’re not like those women at the courts. You’ve got strength, grit. You’re willing to fight for what you want,” he concludes as his eyes flick up to meet yours.

Your breath hitches as you look into his eyes, your palm sweating slightly as it rests nestled in his.

“You’re a prince, you’re supposed to want someone more, how do I put this…submissive?” You reply, the ice between you melting so thin it feels like you can finally speak your mind.

“Ohh— that’s the last thing I’m into,” Heeseung confesses. His voice dropping to a low octave.

“And what are you into, Your Highness?” you ask curiously before you can even process the words leaving your lips.

Heeseung lets out a soft laugh, his cheeks flushing at your inquiry.

“Strength and beauty, a woman who’s sharp and steadfast. That’s not something I’m going to find at those courts.” Heeseung whispers.

The two of you come to a stop. The shadowed ivy and metal archways provide the perfect cover.

It seems like nature goes silent around you at his confession. His free hand reaches up, gently twisting between the locks of your hair.

“A woman who knows kindness and empathy, a woman who sees past others' appearances.” Heeseung gasps, his voice dropping deeper as he slowly walks you backwards.

You gasp weakly as the metal of your armor clicks against the darker metal of the archway. Emerald vines and ivy shade you as his body stands deliberately close.

Heeseung lets out another shaky breath as he reaches beside you, gently picking one of the soft pink roses growing on the vines.

He doesn’t say another word as he tucks the flower behind your ear. You try to hide the way your heart beats loud in your ears from just his touch.

“Thank you for being there for me last night, after the dinner. As a knight, that’s not what you’ve been tasked with.” Heeseung confesses, his fingertips gently tracing your jawline as he glances at you with enchantment.

“I don’t mind it. Truly, it was nice to open up for once.” You confess, your breath hitching sharply as his hands slide to the dip in your armor around your waist.

“I hate that you saw me like that…it’s just—with the Endermorn ball and the courting I just..” Heeseung chokes out, his crown falling slightly askew as he glances into your wide eyes.

“Even though I’m surrounded by so many people, I still feel utterly alone.” He chokes out, his voice trailing off as he holds back.

You let your hands slide around his sides, seeking comfort. Your heart aches as you pull him in.

You faintly feel the strong beat of his heart from between your bodies. It makes your chest tighten.

“You have me now, you don’t have to be alone if you don’t want to be.” You say softly, your hands gently reaching up to his head to adjust his crown.

You smile as your fingertips brush against the gold and jewels. His soft, dark hair brushed against your touch as you straightened the crown.

Heeseung looks at you through glassy eyes. Completely and utterly enchanted by the gentleness of your touch.

“And I don’t just mean that as your knight.”

Heeseung lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. His lips tug into a smile. And when you see it for the first time.

It melts you. His teeth are perfect, his lips so tempting—

He’s the prince; you shouldn’t be thinking about him in that way.

Besides, you have Jay, right?

The inches between you shrink as Heeseung leans in. His grip tightens around the curve of your shielded waist.

You feel your eyes fluttering shut as he leans in, his breath warm as it spreads across your skin.

And then he trembles.

You ache for that warmth again as he pulls away. Heeseung avoids your gaze as he nervously puts distance between your bodies.

“We should head back…” He whispers, voice tight in his chest as he awkwardly clears his throat.

You’re confused as you feel your heart sink. Almost as if you wanted to taste his soft lips on yours.

He extends his hand to you again, this time keeping his distance as you take it. You turn back on your heels, following the garden path back towards the castle in the distance.

The tension is thick; neither of you dared to break it with confessions as you turned back.

The sounds of the bustling activity of the castle grounds come back into proximity. Heeseung reluctantly lets go of your hand as the guards and servants come back into view.

“Miss!”

You whip your head around as you hear the foreign voice of another guard approaching.

“Yes?” You question professionally, trying not to let your nervousness from the heat you just experienced with the heir seep through.

The guard picks up his footing, quickly closing the distance from across the pathway.

“His majesty requests you and the Captain in the throne room.” The kind guard replies. He catches his breath softly as he comes to stand at the prince's side.

You change positions with him without another thought.

You grip the handle of your sword tightly for support as you venture back into the castle for whatever unknown business the King requests.

You get one last glance at the prince before the grand castle doors shut you off from his vision.

Your breath shakes and your hands tremble—

You can’t let the King find out about what just happened between you and his heir.

With confidence, you stalk into the throne room. The King, front and center, sat tall in his grand throne, the Queen quiet at his side.

“Look who finally decided to show.” The King booms as the large doors shut loudly behind you.

The sound makes you jump as you walk down the center of the hall.

Jay doesn't dare look up, his figure already kneeling low in front of the King.

“You were with my son, I presume?” The King strongly asks.

“Yes, your Highness, he opted for a stroll across the gardens.” You reply as you kneel before the King, taking everything in you to keep your gaze focused on your feet instead of Jay at your side.

A shiver goes down your spine as the King gives you a dark glance.

“As you know. In the coming week, our castle will be the host of Thaldoria's Endermorn Ball. And with the treats at hand, it’s going to be a high target event.” The King continues as he stands from his throne.

“Though I don’t want to call off the event and send the people into a panic, but having the most revered nobles all in one place. That makes the ball a prime target for our enemies.” The King concludes.

“Captain—you are to secure the grounds. I want every Aurelian guard on station. I want no window or door left unattended.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Jay replies strongly. His head was still bowed with respect.

“And you—my most promising knight. You have a special task.” The King states.

The words make you flinch. He’s giving you more work on top of your trial?

“Given the nature of your trial, and the security situation, you are not to leave my son's side until morning.—But given the nature of the attendees, the armored woman following him around isn’t the greatest look, well, at least on my behalf.”

“He’s going to escort you to the ball as his partner; you are to protect him, not in armor, but instead lavishly dressed as if you were a noblewoman.” The King continues.

The beating in your heart slows to a stop.

His escort? His partner?

Given your status, the balls were never something you got to experience for yourself. You were always on dish duty or standing guard outside the doors.

He wants you to pretend to be his partner for the night.

And he wants you by his side until morning.

“I’ll send a seamstress to your quarters to take your dressing measurements.” The King says as he loudly clears his throat.

“The two of you are now dismissed.”

The King's voice is stoic as he dismisses you; your head is racing from everything he just requested of you.

You stumble out of the throne room, weakly, your chest tight as you keep running the words back over and over. Like that, somehow repeating them would make it feel more true.

You don’t glance back at Jay or anyone else as you race towards the stairwell to your quarters.

To your surprise, the seamstress assigned to you is no one other than Madam Colley herself.

You open the door to your quarters with a gentle click, and you can’t hold back the beaming smile that spreads across your face as you realize who your assigned seamstress is.

“It’s good to see you, dear.” She says kindly, the soft wrinkles of her eyes turning up when she sees you.

“It’s good to see you, too. How are things in the basement?” You ask softly as you shut the door behind you. Without a second thought, you remove your heavy sword and toss it onto the bed.

“Oh, things are well, very well. You’re the topic of the week, you know—the word has gotten around about how much time you’re spending with his majesty.” She smiles, snickering as she dives into her sewing box to fetch the measuring tape.

“What kind of word has gotten around?” You ask casually as you start to undo the straps of your armor. You toss the heavy pieces aside one by one as Madam Colley speaks.

“Well, he is very handsome and the two of you seem to already be close—“ she asks, raising an eyebrow as her hands start to help you remove the armor for your fitting.

“Madam Colley—“ you drag out, playfully rolling your eyes with a smirk at the implications of her words.

“You’re a fine woman! I raised you myself. I’d be surprised if that captain you’re always making eyes at isn’t into you, too.” She replies, chuckling as the rest of your armor falls away.

The cold makes the hairs on your arms stand up as you stand in just your underclothes. You shiver as she reaches for her notebook and pen.

“Well about the captain—oh I can’t tell you about the captain.” You tease, biting your lip as heat rushes down the back of your neck.

“Let’s just say he’s a generous man, in every sense of the word.” You reply before zipping your lips closed tight.

“Oh dear—I so desperately just want you to be happy.” She replies as her aged hands pull the measuring tape around your waist.

“I am happy, Madam—Happier than I have been in such a long time. And when I pass my trial, I’m going to get you out of this castle—Into the outskirts, a nice cottage all to yourself.” You reply confidently, like the trial is already in your hands.

“You don’t have to do that for me, dear.” She croaks out, her voice strained with emotion from your confession.

“But I want to. You’re the reason I even am standing here for a dress fitting right now.” You gasp out intimately as her hands trace your shoulders with the tape.

“I’m so proud of everything you’ve done. I mean it—the woman you’ve become, I couldn’t be more proud of.” Madam Colley continues.

Your heart aches, it feels heavy as you process her words. The guilt, the gratitude, the hopefulness all flood through you at once.

“And by the looks of it, grandkids soon? Either noble or royal, if my predictions are correct.” She snickers as she scribbles down the rest of the measurements.

“No, no, no, Madam, I haven’t—we’re not, me and the captain-“

“Shhh, I was you’re age once, too, dear. And if any of my advice sticks with you, I want it to be this…”

“Don’t put all your eggs in one basket, there’s plenty of your gorgeous self to go around. So be safe and have fun with it.”

Your jaw drops at the unexpected nature of her words. Madam Colley seems to have a knack for seeing right through every part of you.

“I’ll be back to do final adjustments the night of the ball.” She calls out as she packs her things.

“Have a good night, Madam. I miss you!” You call out as you watch her figure hesitate by the door.

“I miss you too, dear.” She replies, her voice hoarse as she turns the corner, leaving her figure to disappear into the halls.

Reality starts to settle in. You, of all people, are going to the ball as the prince's escort.

And you can’t hide your excitement.

With the thought of the Endermorn Ball approaching, the days go by in a blur.

You find yourself feeling conflicted, torn between the breathless late-night rendezvous with the captain—and your extended time alone with the prince.

But you push the thoughts down. You have a trial to complete.

The danger of the ball is soon at the front of your mind.

Jay and the guards have worked tirelessly to make sure everything is in place in case of an attack. All the behind-the-scenes work—and none of the nobles have a clue about the threat at hand.

Your reflection stares back at you from the golden floor-length mirror. You almost don’t even recognize yourself without the armor.

Your dress is the most flattering shade of blue, perfectly tailored to your measurements as requested.

The sleeves fall off your shoulders, highlighting the sharp curve of your collarbone. Layer upon layer of shimmering fabric drapes down your body and pools generously at your feet.

Your breath hitches as Madam Colley pulls the corset tight. It defines your shape, the design leaving nothing to the imagination.

“You’ve truly outdone yourself with this dress—“ you gasp as she tightens the laces and ties them firmly.

“Only for you, my dear, you deserve the best.” She murmurs as you watch her pin and stitch small adjustments onto the layers of your gown.

“There…you look perfect.” She replies, pulling away to glance at your reflection in the mirror.

The softness of her touch makes you emotional, and you hold back tears in hopes of not ruining the precise makeup applied to your features.

“It’s just missing one thing.” He whispers as she pulls her reflection away.

Seconds later, Madam Colley returns with your sword in hand. With soft hands, she helps to attach the weapon to your side.

“Thank you. For everything.” You choke out as you look at your reflection, completely awestruck in the glass.

You can’t believe the woman staring back at you from the reflection is you, looking like one of the noblewomen painted and framed along the castle walls.

You try to fight the queasy feeling in your stomach—

God, you only hope tonight goes exactly as planned.

Your heart hammers as adrenaline hits its peak.

With a gentle nod, you address the guards at the sides of the ballroom's grand set of doors.

Soft fabric gathers the skirt of your gown as you hold up the hem of your dress.

If it weren't for the trail, you would be among the guards on watch tonight.

The heavy weight of your sword at your side reminds you of that very fact.

The sounds of high chatter and laughter can already be heard from the other side of the door.

You let out a shaky breath, your chest tightening as you prepare yourself to meet the prince and the captain on the other side.

The guards use their strength to pull open the massive oak doors.

You step through, the scent of the woody candles and the sweetness of the dessert table instantly flood your senses.

The train of your dress follows behind you as you step towards the top of the grand staircase. You give the herald your name; in turn, he announces it to the grandiose audience of the ballroom.

You nervously chew on your bottom lip, scanning the room for the two most familiar faces you’re aching to see.

The echo of your name spreads through the tall ceilings of the distinguished ballroom. Lit by candlelight, chandeliers perfectly illuminate the room in warmth. The red velvet of the staircase feels daunting.

You wipe your palms on the sides of your dress in an attempt to stop the nervous sweating. Once you look up, you realize—

Everyone is looking at you.

Your heart beats in your ears as you stand frozen in place, looking for the one supposed to be at your side tonight.

Your breath catches when you see the figure of the prince weaving through the crowd towards the end of the staircase.

Once he pushes through, he stops dead in his tracks, jaw dropped with disbelief—

And he’s staring directly at you.

You’re heart warms, and the nerves begin to fade. You gently grasp the golden handrail of the staircase as you hold your shoulders back.

You smile at the prince as you make your descent, trying to hold everything together as every single set of eyes watches your every move.

Your dress drags behind you as you continue to descend the staircase with grace.

The look on the prince's face is nothing short of awestruck as he meets you at the bottom of the railing.

He himself is adorned in the deepest of reds, and the gold accents complement his dark eyes. His crown, like always, tilted slightly askew.

Once you reach the bottom of the staircase, the whispers only grow louder.

“Who is that woman?”

“Wait—she's with the prince?”

“Why does she have a sword? I wonder if she can even lift the thing.”

Heeseung's hand is warm against your skin as he takes your fingertips in his own. The second you feel his touch, all the whisperings fade into the background.

You’re left completely breathless, like there's no one else in this castle besides you and him.

The prince dips his head, gently raising your hand to his lips. You gasp unintenisally as his lips kiss the gentle warmth of skin across your hand.

“My stars, you look absolutely breathtaking my knight.” Heeseung whispers, his voice shaky as he pulls your other hand into his. His eyes stay locked on your every detail.

His gaze trails up and down as his pupils trace the edges of your gown, the perfect shape of your body. The soft floral scent left on your skin—

“It would be my greatest honor, to have my first dance with you.” Heeseung whispers, his lips curled into a soft smile as he takes in the breathless aura of your appearance.

Your chest feels tight, and you can hardly speak.

So you nod.

The nervous habit of biting your lips finds you again as the prince leads you onto the open dance floor, practiced, like he’s done this countless times before.

He leans in close as his hands find the curve of your waist. Your knees go weak from just the intimate nature of his touch.

He smiles as the music starts to play. The strings of the orchestra drown out all the noble whispers.

Heeseung pulls you in close, and the layers of your dress all of a sudden feel thicker from his warmth being pressed up against your own.

His eyes stay locked on you, not glancing at the king's expression or the chattering gossip of the guests.

The prince's fingertips again grace yours, his grip on your waist tightening as he starts to lead you through the dance.

You feel nervous, and sweat forms against your temples. What if you step on your gown? What if you make it obvious that at your core, you’re a servant girl and nothing more?

“Relax…just focus on me.” Heeseung leans in and whispers, his soft voice interrupting your spiral. He pulls back—just enough to let you breathe.

You lean into him, smiling as he leads you through the motions in time with the music.

His hand holds yours tight as he spins you around perfectly, your dress catching in the air, the fabric flowing like water as the two of you dance.

The strings of the orchestra wind, Heeseung guides you like air. And just as the music descends, his grip tightens as he dips you low, his lips dangerously close to your own.

In front of the most noble people in the kingdom.

“Your Highness.” You whisper—lungs tight.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done to me? This dress with that sword—” Heeseung gasps, his lips leaning in dangerously close.

With a shaky breath, he pulls away, pulse still hammering as he pulls you back into the dance.

“God, everyone's eyes are on you, and I can't even blame them.” Heeseung whispers, his voice intimate and low as he pulls you into his body desperately.

You gasp, the entire world watching as the two of you unravel between the sound of practiced strings.

“Your father—everyone is watching,” you choke out as his hand slides from your waist dangerously low across your back. His fingertips brush against the strings of your corset. Your heart races at the feeling, your mind goes to all sorts of places you know it shouldn't.

“Since when have I ever been one to follow the rules?” Heeseung replies with quick wit. Just as you let out a breathless laugh, the music changes tune.

“Come with me.” Heeseung murmurs, biting his lip as he starts to draw you away from the dancefloor as it starts to fill.

You look over your shoulder as he grips your hand, pulling you out of the suffocating warmth of the ballroom.

You catch Jay perched next to the king, leaning up against a nearby column. His grip on his sword makes his knuckles turn white. His shining armor with a cape draped in radiant blue. The Aurelian Guard crest rests strongly against his chest.

And that's the last thing before Heeseung pulls you away into the shadows.

The sound of the two sets of laughter echoes throughout the cold brick halls. Heeseung drags you down the very corridors you know too well.

He bites his lip as he pulls you into a darkened corner, the sound of the grand ball muffled into the background.

His hands grip your waist, making your breath shudder.

The layers of your dress can’t hide the heat between you as he pushes his body up into yours, backing you into the cold, rough stone.

Your back arches against the bricks, your lips parted as you gasp breathlessly for air. Heeseung smirks as he leans in, his lips gently pressing to the underside of your jaw.

A weak moan slips past your lips without a second thought as the tension snaps. His hands pull your body closer into his own, desperate in search of relief.

“Fuck…” Heeseung whispers full of desperate restraint as he pulls away.

He tugs the collar of his shirt loose, exposing the pale soft skin of his collarbone. His chest rises and falls sharply from the heat.

“Since I’ve started a habit of making bad decisions…” He whispers as his hand gently cups your face, his thumb brushing intimately across your cheeks.

His fingertips tangle in your hair as he closes the distance. His lips crash into yours, hot, needy.

You gasp, eyes fluttering shut as you feel the warmth of his lips spread throughout your whole body.

You move your lips against his, frantic to taste more of the sweetness he has to offer.

Heeseung smirks against your mouth as your hands slide to his chest, trembling as you pull apart another one of the golden buttons.

“Can you feel that?” Heeseung pulls away, lips swollen as he sharply catches his breath. His body is desperate as it softly ruts against the layers of your dress.

“Yeah—I feel it, Y-Your highness.” You gasp before you can even think.

“No…” Heeseung murmurs as he kisses you intimately again. He gently sucks at the plumpness of your bottom lip before pulling away to whisper against it.

“Not here, not when I'm with you.” He whispers as his hand gently cups your face.

“Right now it’s Heeseung…not the Prince, but a man. Nothing more than a man who is completely and utterly entranced by you.” He pants heavily as he leans in to softly capture your lips in his.

He steps further into the tulle layers, his mouth hot against your own as he lets go of all restraint. Deep moans slip past his parted lips as his hands pull you closer.

“I don’t care if this is sudden—God, I’ve felt so many things with you I don't dare name.” He murmurs between wet, slow kisses to your swollen lips.

Heeseung pulls away, crown still tilted askew, saliva connecting your lips from the intensity of the kiss.

You’re breathless as he kisses shamelessly down the column of your throat. Your fingertips curl against the deep crimson of his attire. Your soft grip brushes against the cold detailing as your body seeks his out.

“What if I wanted you to name them?” You pant, chest feeling overly tight from the corset and the heat combined.

“I admire you, your strength, your courage.” He whispers against your skin as he kisses back up your neck.

You tilt your head back to expose more of your skin, hair tangling in the rough bricks at your back.

“I hate to admit it, but—you helped me forget all of the courting, all those times you held my hand, looked into my eyes and saw me not just a crown of jewels.” He whispers, his lips messily dragging across your neck to kiss the delicate skin beneath your ear.

“Heeseung—” You whisper his name for the first time. It sounds like a sure seduction from your lips. Your breath is already so heavy, pleasured warmth already spreading through your body, and he hasn't even touched you beneath your gown.

“God say my name again—” He mumbles as he whispers sharply into your ear, his lips grazing the flesh as he trembles against you with restrained desire.

“Heeseung…” You gasp, closing your eyes and whimpering again from his touch.

“Every night since I met you, I’ve lain awake imagining what it would be like to have you at my side, waking up with your body intertwined with mine.” He whispers again into your ear.

You shudder, knees going weak as his strong grip holds you against the stone wall.

“I…I want those things too. But my trial—I tried to keep my distance.” You confess as slowly your fingertips tangle in the dark hair at the base of his neck.

“The last thing I want is for you to keep your goddamn distance. Fuck I don’t want to wake up another blessed morning to an empty bed.” Heeseung pants desperately as his lips find your sharp collarbone.

The nature of your corset makes everything feel overwhelmingly tight. Heeseung smirks against your skin as his thumbs intimately brush the boning of the garment.

“My God, you’re going to think I'm cruel, but your legs spread apart on my sheets? Your perfect cunt mine to taste until my jaw aches. All for me to fuck you as slow and hard as you deserve until you're shaking—trembling from how good it feels.” The prince's breath hitches as his lips drag the overwhelming fullness of your breasts. The nature of the dress holds them perfectly against your chest.

You slide your hands to his chest, desperately removing another one of the golden ties in an attempt to cool the air between you. He smiles, gaze hazy as he lavishes the attention on your sharp cleavage.

His hands slide against the layers of your dress to grip your thighs. He pushes up the layers, hooking your thigh over his hip to close the distance.

He lets out a satisfied moan as his hardness presses up against your hips. The feeling makes your mind run to even more forbidden places.

“Shh, that’s it. You feel that? How much I’ve been holding back.” He murmurs into the soft fullness of your breasts.

“Heeseung, we can’t—” You gasp before he shuts you up with a rough kiss.

You moan again into his mouth, your dignity, your mission completely forgotten as his hand slips between your thighs, the heat between you reaching a breaking point.

“Do you want this?”

He slips between the layers of your skirt to cup your sex. His mouth swallows every sharp moan of desire that he pulls from your shaky throat.

“Fuck…I don't care, Heeseung, please.” You whimper as his fingertips slide through the dampness of your folds, his own breath hitching against your mouth.

“You’re so perfect like this, god this dress, this fucking cunt.” He mumbles, smirking with unraveling desire.

Your knuckles burn as you clutch the loose fabric of his shirt. Your chest is heavy, small marks of desire starting to form on your breasts where he lavished you.

His fingertips circle your entrance, the two of you letting out a dangerous, strangled moan at the contact.

Heeseung shudders as he starts to pump his finger in and out, your wetness starting to coat his finger as you steady your breathing.

You bite back moans as he pulls away to glance into your eyes. His lips part as he watches your expressions contort with pleasure. The sight makes his pants grow even more uncomfortably tight.

“That's it…you're taking it so well. You look so beautiful, I can’t even breathe.” Heeseung whispers as he watches your expression through eyes of desire.

He slips another finger into your wet entrance. You take it with ease as he gently starts to pull them in and out.

He bites his lip as he pulls his fingertips out of your hole to circle your clit gently until it starts to swell.

Moans get caught in your throat as you hold back the noise. Heeseung only watches in complete and utter awe.

A sharp shadow catches your attention from beyond the dark, secluded hall.

“Wait..” You gasp, chest heaving as you turn to glance into the hall.

“Something wrong?” Heeseung asks, immediately withdrawing his fingertips from between you. His expression fills with concern as he gently holds you against the stone wall.

“No, not you, I just—” There, the light down the hall flickers.

Your heart drops into your stomach.

Whoever that is, they aren’t supposed to be here.

You quickly compose yourself, shaking off the tingling feeling between your legs as you hold up your dress, chasing the shadow.

“Captain!” You shout as you round the corner back into the ballroom, the ball still going on just as planned. Jay is still stationed at the king's side. The music and dancing still vibrate as you enter back through one of the side doors.

Jay immediately snaps out of his trance when he hears your voice. His eyes widen as he notices your pained expression.

The king turns his head as you frantically cross the room to meet Jay, sword still resting at your side, hands still trembling.

“Jay, the west tower—I was with the prince when I saw—” You pant, resting your hands on your knees.

“I need your help.” You confess.

Jay’s expression flickers between concern and anger back to concern.

“Come on,” Jay says confidently as he leads you out of the room by the shoulder.

You lead him out the side doors, your hands shaking as you run with the edges of your dress tugged up.

“You look stunning even running into danger,” Jay confesses as his armor reflects the moonlight coming through the guarded windows. The royal blue of his cape makes him look even stronger as he follows you.

“Thank you, truly, but—Whoever I just saw, I know they aren't supposed to be here.” You finish as the two of you turn down the same corridor.

The large doors of the castle burst open as you run into the courtyard. The train of your dress drags against the ground, mud and dirt already ruining the perfect shade of blue.

You’re heart breaks, but right now, the prince's safety and your trial are the only things at the front of your mind.

You chase the dark figure, Jay right behind you on your heels. Heeseung left safely inside the stone walls of the castle.

You duck as the dark figure turns—a dagger nearly slices your ear.

Jay curses, and the knife ricochets off the strength of his armor.

The noise of his unsheathing sword is loud in the quiet night, the moon illuminating the courtyard. But the unknown figure ahead still remains dark, covered by a hood and mask.

“Stand down, and we won’t harm you. The guard will take you in for questioning.” Jay announces firmly. His voice dripping with command as he moves to stand tall at your side.

You squint your eyes, adjusting to the darkness. The masked figure only laughs at Jay’s request.

From beneath the mask, the figure's large cloak, another dagger flies. Jay steps in front of you, raising his sword with practiced precision.

The knife hits the metal, and sparks fly. You can hardly breathe, chest tight—legs shaking.

But moments like this are what you’ve been training all these years for.

With confidence, you grab the hilt of your sword, fingertips trembling as you unsheath it from your side.

The figure smirks as he draws his sword, his gaze narrowing as he charges straight towards Jay.

You gasp, pushing your footing out of the way as Jay stumbles back. Muscles strain as he horizontally blocks the attack.

The shimmering fabric of your dress gets stained from the dirt. You grit your teeth, using your sword to stand back up onto your own feet.

You kick off your heels, letting your bare feet stand firm on the earth of the castle's courtyard.

“No…” Jay murmurs, his expression turning frantic as he blocks another one of the cloaked figures' attacks.

You run towards him in an offer of support. Sword heavy in your hand, bare feet tearing against the ground as your dress drags behind you.

“You…It’s you.” Jay murmurs with disbelief, his throat tight as he throws the figure off oh his own with his strength.

It feels like your brain is racing in circles. Who is this man? How did he get in? The corridor you and Heeseung were in was private—

It has to be someone from the castle.

And by the way he fights, maybe even from the Guards themselves.

No one else would’ve known which corridors would be left unguarded.

Jay steps closer towards the man, his sword inching closer to the man's neck as he stumbles back in fear.

“It’s laughable that you think you have the strength to take down the very man that trained you—.” Jay murmurs.

You watch in awe, eyes locked on his frame as he commands the empty space. His stride is confident as he backs the frantic man into one of the courtyard's granite benches.

“Please, C-Captain! This is a misunderstanding…” The cloaked man murmurs with a snicker.

You stalk closer to the scene, breaking into a run as you see the glint on another dagger being drawn.

“Jay!” You shout as the figure knocks the sword from his throat.

A loud clamor erupts in the night as Jay’s sword is swung across the courtyard. Leaving him completely unarmed.

Jay stumbles back breathless, his chest heaving as you step between their two bodies.

Your sword collides with the knife of the masked man. With all your strength, you push down on the handle.

“Stupid girl, do you even know what you are so blindly protecting?” He murmurs as he pushes up on your blade.

You stumble, your bare feet strong as you gain your footing. You push down—harder, gritting your teeth as you overpower the masked man.

Your sword breaks away with a spark—you kick the man in the chest, knocking the wind out of him as he collides with the ground.

Jay is right behind you, grabbing the man by the throat with his bare hands.

“I trusted you. And this is how you repay me?” Jay murmurs before he knocks the mask and cloak off the man.

The Aurelian Guard crest shines strongly on his chest.

“You are no longer one of my men,” Jay murmured as the man panted for air.

Jay loosens his grip, ripping the crest off his armor before tossing it aside.

With a sharp call of your name, Jay urges you to detain the guard. You stumble in the grass, retrieving Jay’s sword and handing it to him.

He smirks as he takes the steel blade from your hands.

“The King will see you for questioning,” Jay concludes as you pull the man's wrists tight behind his back.

Jay calls for support—The rest of the guard rush the courtyard, hauling the attempted assassin away into the dark dungeons of the castle.

The loud sound of chatter and armor fades into the distance, leaving only you and a breathless Jay alone in the castle's courtyard.

You stalk closer to him, sheathing your own weapon with a sharp hiss.

“One of my own men, can you believe that?” Jay whispers, his voice hoarse with disbelief.

“No…I—We were so focused on external attacks I would've never thought—” You whisper.

Before you can finish, his arms wrap around you, his strong muscles pulling your body into his underneath the moonlight.

“God, what would I do without you?” He whispers, his voice shaky as he buries his face in your bare shoulder. The straps of your dress are torn, the shimmering blue now stained with a muddy brown.

Your hair has long since fallen from its style, your shoes lost somewhere about the courtyard's grounds.

The pattering sound of footsteps causes the two of you to jump from your embrace. You turn your head sharply, heart stopping—

Heeseung.

The prince holds his crown tight, his crimson jacket blowing in the wind as he races into the courtyard shouting your name.

“Your Highness!” You call out as he closes the distance, his arms wrapping around you tightly—his strength nearly pushing you to the ground.

“Oh my god, I—I couldn’t find you inside. I was so worried.” He murmurs into your shoulder as his hands stroke through your hair.

You turn your head, watching as Jay narrows his gaze from the intimate nature of the prince's touch.

You smile softly as Jay’s expression changes from jealousy to—something else. You wrap your arms around the prince, letting the two of you gently fall to the ground, wound in a tight embrace.

“I didn’t think I would have to use my sword tonight, but there was a change of plans.” You murmur as the sound of heavy boots approaching makes your heart race.

Jay leans down, wrapping his arms around you as well.

Heeseung's eyes widen at the gesture. He opens his mouth to protest.

But his stumbling quickly melts into a knowing smile.

“Captain.” He says deeply, his perfect lips still tugged into a knowing smile.

“Your Highness.” Jay murmurs.

“You’re not hurt, are you? Either of you?” Heeseung whispers frantically as he pulls away enough to look into your wide eyes. His fingertips trace the tears of your dress.

You smile, shaking you head heart warming at his worry.

“No, we're both fine, perfectly fine.” You whisper.

“She shouldn’t be left alone tonight—” Jay steps in, his hands sliding dangerously low across your hips. You hitch, the feeling of two sets of hands encompassing you makes a fire burn hot in your chest.

“She’s already been commanded to stay with me until morning,” Heeseung replies, his chest tightening as the air between you three grows heavy and hot.

“Suppose I should join you then?” Jay asks, a wicked smirk taking over his expression as his thumbs trace the strong boning of your corset.

“Captain?” You question, biting your lip, brows furrowing with the thought.

“Deal.” Heeseung interrupts, his arms pulling you up by the shoulders as he glances into your eyes.

“But the Ball—”

Heeseung chuckles, his touch slides down your arms before he takes your hands in his.

“They won’t miss us. We’ve already been gone plenty long.”

The doors to Heeseung’s chambers swing open. The three of you can’t hide your excitement as you pile inside.

The sound of the ball many floors below dwindles as guests file out of the castle. The servants and maids start dimming the lights as the night falls deeper.

You stand breathlessly in front of Heeseung's massive bed. The mattress is grand, the dealings fit for nothing less than a prince.

“I..I want you. Both of you.” You stammer out, the heat between you becoming unbearable.

“I can’t choose, I’m sworn to both of you.” You finish, swallowing a lump as you admit what’s tugging at your heart.

Jay drops his sword at the door, his strength pushed up against your form from behind as Heeseung stalks in front.

The room feels too hot, too heavy.

“You don’t have to.” Heeseung whispers.

And then his lips dip low to capture yours.

Your hands tangle in his hair, knocking the perfectly poised crown off his head.

He doesn’t flinch; his mouth curves into a dangerous smile against your lips.

Jay's hands slide down your sides, rough and calculated as he starts to remove the ties of your corset.

“May I?” Jay whispers, leaning in to press his lips to your shoulder.

“Please.” You whimper into Heeseung’s mouth. Your hands pull him in, impossibly closer, knees buckling with restraint.

Jay unlaces your corset, letting you suck in a deep breath as the air fully fills your lungs.

Heeseung moans, swallowing your breath with pleasure. His lips are hot as they tug at your own, his mouth sliding down to kiss the underside of your jaw.

“Fuck..” you gasp, your fingers trembling as they fist in the halfway open fabric of Heeseung’s shirt.

You try to steady your breath as you finish the job. Soft hands against cool gold buttons. Inch after inch of his perfectly ivory skin is being revealed to your view.

“So perfect like this. Making those pretty sounds.” Jay murmurs as he kisses your shoulder blades. His lips make you shiver, your body shaking again as he pulls the corset free from your body.

His hands immediately slide across your stomach, the touch making your breath hitch as Heeseung’s lips find the edge of your ear again.

“Feels good?” He asks, his voice dropping low and hoarse.

“Fuck yes..” you whisper, completely breathless as Jay's hands slide to the underside of your breasts.

You gasp as he gently brushes his thumbs across your clothed, peaked nipples. Your body shivers in the cold, his lips warm as the kiss between your shoulder blades, across the rough skin of your back.

One of Jay's hands stayed pressed to the fullness of your breast, the other slides to his own body as he frantically starts to remove the clasps of his armor.

You push the fabric of Heeseung’s attire off his shoulders. Letting the red silk and gold spread across the ground.

You turn over your shoulder, facing Jay as you help him remove the strong pieces of his armor. His Cape falls behind him as you remove each piece.

Heeseung lets his hands slide across your stomach, twisting your nipples between his fingertips. You hunch over with pleasure, the warmth sooting straight to between your thighs.

Jay cuts off your moan with a sharp kiss. His mouth opens against yours as he lets his tongue slide into you.

You meet him with shared fervor, tongue teasing his own as your hands work in tandem to remove the armor.

Each piece hits the floor with a sharp hiss. Heeseung breathes his heavy and warm breath against your ear as he cups the fullness of your breast.

His free hand slides between the heat of your bodies, unbuckling his belt frantically as his breathing turns ragged. He tosses it to the floor. Clothing and armor are being lost without rhyme.

“My turn.” Heeseung murmurs as he slides the rest of your dress over your shoulders. The cool air hits your naked body as you shiver.

Heeseung backs you towards the bed, Jay's heated figure right at your side as the three of you climb onto the mattress.

Jay kisses your temple, his hands brushing against the mid your stomach, and the curve of your waist. He lets out a gentle hum of pleasure, his body invigorated just by the sight of yours.

Heeseung kisses you gently, his lips reluctant as he pulls away to kiss between your breasts. He gives each mound decent attention. Your hips buck with need as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth.

You gasp as his tongue dances around the bud, your hands seeking out Jay's to ground you.

Jay laces his fingertips between your own, his lips kissing down the side of your neck as he whispers praise.

“He’s going to make you feel good, okay? I want to hear you.” Jay commands gently as Heeseung kisses down your stomach, his lips gracing the bone of your hip.

“Open for me, darling.” Heeseung whispers, his eyes full of desire and unchecked lust.

You fall back against the pillows, head feeling light as you part your thighs for him.

Heeseung hooks your knees under his arms, his breath already fanning against your slick folds.

“Ready?” Heeseung asks, licking his lips as his eyes stay glued on the sight.

“Yes…” You whisper weakly. Your voice quickly turns into a strangled moan as he slides his tongue between your thighs.

His lips find your cunt with a deep moan. His fingertips tighten around your legs. You arch as his wet mouth kisses you.

“So fucking divine. And all for us, right?” Heeseung murmurs, his eyes flickering between your pleasured expression and Jay's flushed cheeks.

“All for both of you.” You murmur, your skin leaving the mattress as you cry out from another touch.

You squeeze Jay's hand tight, his lips hot against your ear, coaxing you through the pleasure.

Jay leans over to kiss you. You gasp into his mouth, hands sliding back into his dark hair, asHeeseung works on your from below.

His tongue slides from your wet entrance to your clit. He gently gently circles it, just adding enough pleasure for your hips to shudder.

You moan deeply into Jay's mouth as Heeseung's tongue circles your wetness. He moans at your taste as he laps at your hole. Letting you shamelessly paint his lips and chin.

Then he slides his tongue back into you, licking into your hole to savor more of the sweet taste you have to offer. Heeseung's grip on you tightens; his nose brushes perfectly against your clit as he devours you.

“Heeseung…” you moan shamelessly into Jay's mouth. He swallows it with a smirk, his hand tightening around your fingertips.

“Is he making you feel good, darling?” Jay whimpers, pulling his swollen, flushed lips away from your own.

The stimulation makes you ache; all you can do is reply with a nod.

You gasp Heeseung's name as the wet sounds of his mouth on your cunt echo throughout the room.

“Fuck she’s so wet for us.” Heeseung pulls away to moan into your cunt. His tongue gently fucks into your dripping hole. Your hips shudder against his mouth. Pleasure dripping without remorse.

“I know that's fucking right,” Jay smirks as he kisses down your neck. His fingertips slide from your hand to your breasts. His hands cupping them intimately.

Heeseung looks up from between your thighs as he slides his mouth to suckle at your swollen clit. You cry out with a sharp moan. Your body feeling completely overwhelmed with pleasure from head to toe.

“Fuck…” you moan as you sink your limp body into the sheets. Heeeeung's tongue is still working its magic as he flicks your clit with precision. His grip softly slides up your thighs.

He moans deeply as his hands slide under your ass, pulling your wet cunt further into his face with a sharp growl.

“Heeseung I—“ you gasp as your thighs clench around his head. A warm pulse spreads throughout your body as you get closer to the edge.

“My turn.” Jay interrupts. Heeseung pulls away from your soaked cunt, his lips and chin glistening with your arousal. His cheeks flushed, and his perfectly styled hair was out of place.

“Enjoy,” Heeseung says with a playful chuckle. He motions to your open, soaking cunt before switching spots with Jay.

The tight feeling in your chest spreads throughout your body, and your mind is still partly blank as you try to process all that's happening.

Jay lets out a pleasured hum as he slips between your legs. His strong arms push your thighs further apart. His broad shoulders nestled perfectly between your quivering legs.

Heeseung wipes your arousal from his lips with the back of his hand. He smiles as he leans against your side. His hands take the place of Jay’s as they slide up your chest.

He gently takes your lips in his own. You moan deeply at the taste of yourself on his lips. Heeseung smirks as he pushes his tongue past the seam, letting you revel in the taste,

Your hands tightly tangle in his dark hair as Jay’s slick mouth finds your cunt. You involuntarily arch off the mattress with pleasure, but he quickly pins you back down with his strength.

“Oh my god—” You moan weakly into Heesueng's mouth. You can already feel your lips starting to bruise, your thighs shaking as you struggle to take what Jay gives.

He eats you out with force. His tongue dominates as it slides through your slick. He knows your body too well.

Jay’s hands hold you down as he sucks lightly at your aching clit. You cry out with pleasure, sweat running down your back and temples.

The sheets between you feel all too warm. The heat of two sets of hands is insatiable.

“Take it, darling… that's it, take it.” Heeseung whispers as Jay ruins your clit from below.

You find Heeseung's hand, gripping it tight as your breathing starts to catch in your chest.

“Jay...Fuck I'm close—” You gasp weakly as your hips rut shamelessly up into his face. Jay snickers into your cunt, his hands tightening as he holds down your hips.

You cry out in desperation as Heeseung's fingertips find one of your overly sensitive nipples, gently pinching in pulling them as his breath fans across your lips.

“That's it. So perfect, gonna come for us right? We want to hear your pretty sounds.” Heeseung whispers, his lips dipping low to kiss you softly through all the stimulation.

You whimper, your moans tearing from your throat as you reach your peak. Heeseung winces as your hand grips his tight, your body shaking with release.

Jay moans deeply into your dripping cunt as you come, soaking his face with no remorse.

You let the waves flow through you, it's hot—strong, a feeling that you’ve never felt on your own.

Your body shudders as you fall weakly into the hot satin sheets. The evidence of your orgasm soaks through the linen.

“Think you can take more?” Jay asks as he comes up from between your legs. His gaze is dark, locked on your own as his tongue darts out to greedily savor every drop on his lips.

“She's a mess.” Heeseung whispers as he switches places with Jay. His tongue slides through your soaked cunt as he laps up your come. His tongue slides across your inner thighs as he cleans up the mess.

“Jay, I—I think I can.” You stutter out with a familiar sharpness.

“Good. Because this is far from over, darling.” Jay replies as his hands slide down the sides of your body.

“Come on, sit up for me,” Heeseung whispers lovingly. Your stomach burns as you pull your shoulder blades from the soft plush of the bed.

His hands wrap around the sides of your hips as he adjusts you. You shift onto your hands and knees, fingertips gripping the bunched fabric of the damp sheets between your hands.

Jay gently pushes your hair behind your ears as he settles in front of you, his cheeks flushed, hair damp as sweat clings to his perfectly tan skin.

Heeseung keeps one hand resting on your ass as he slips down the rest of his trousers. His touch is gentle as he braces you, the flushed tip of his cock softly glides between your swollen lower lips.

Heeseung lets out an intimate moan at the feeling. In that moment, it feels like time has completely stopped. And nothing outside of this room and the two perfect men even matters.

“You ready?” Jay asks softly as he pushes down the edge of his own trousers to free his large, leaking cock.

“Yeah, I’m ready.” You consent, licking your lips at the sight.

With your permission, Heeseung slowly pushes in from behind. His hands tremble at your waist as your tight channel envelops him.

He throws his head back, whimpering from just how good you feel.

And after all this time, he's finally inside you.

You’re eyes water as you stretch to take his invading length. Your thighs shake from the sheer intensity of his size, splitting you open.

“You’re doing so well, taking all of him like that.” Jay coaxes, his hand gently cupping the side of your face as your brows contort from the filling pleasure.

Heeseung starts to thrust into you, gently at first. His own thighs are shaking as he holds back from roughly pounding into you.

“Open up.” Heeseung instructs from behind. He leans over you, thrusting into your wet cunt as he places a soft kiss between your shoulders.

Jay sucks in a sharp breath as your lips wrap around his swollen tip. You’re eyes flutter shut as the taste of him hits your tongue.

Jay softly braces his hand on your bare shoulder for support. You greedily lap at the tip of his cock, humming with pleasure as the salty taste of him spreads across your tongue.

“That's it, keep sucking his cock like a good girl while I fill you up.” Heesueng whispers, leaving a trace of goosebumps across your skin.

You take Jay’s cock further in your mouth, sucking greedily as saliva starts to run down your chin. Jay watches with awe, his hips gently thrusting into your mouth as you take him deeper.

“God, you’re perfect.” Jay moans, his breath strangled as you slide your tongue across the underside of his cock.

He twitches in your mouth at the gesture, his fingertips dig softly into the soft skin of your shoulder as he holds himself back.

Heeseung picks up the pace from behind, his cock so deep it hits places you didn’t even know existed.

You whimper around Jay’s cock, heart hammering in your chest as your eyes flutter open to get a glance.

He’s completely wrecked my your mouth alone, his face contorted deeply with pleasure as he softly ruts into your mouth for relief.

“Fuck you’re squeezing me so tight. M’ not gonna last.” Heesueng pants as he starts to thrust into you with uncoordinated force.

The smell of sex fills the air, and the sounds of Heeseung's hips clapping against your ass echo loudly between Jay’s curses and moans.

You can hardly breathe. Being filled to fully from behind and in awe of the scene in front of you.

Heesueng whimpers desperately, and the clapping sounds only intensify as he chases his own release.

“I’m gonna fill you up, okay? Want to watch my come dripping out of your perfect fucking cunt.” Heesueng clammors desperately, his hands tighten around your waist as he whimpers and moans your name.

Jay is right behind him, your name falling desperately from his lips as you work your tongue. Your jaw burns as you take him, saliva dripping down your chin and neck, the slick sliding between the mound of your breasts in the most erotic sight.

It’s too much.

The pleasure, the sounds of your names spilling desperately from both men’s lips.

Heesueng cracks first, crying out your name as he shoots his warm load into your cunt. Your thighs tremble as he paints you deep, his cock spilling thick spurts of his come deep inside you.

You take it, your mouth not letting up on Jay’s cock for a second as Heesung gently thrusts the rest of his load into you from behind.

Jay swilfly follows, the sight of your cunt getting filled too much to bear. He moans deeply, gripping you tight as he shoves his cock deep into your mouth. His soft tip hits the back of your throat as he comes hot and fast into your mouth.

You hum as you take it, body buzzing with the warmth of both releases. With a few soft gulps, you're swallowing it all, humming at the taste.

Jay pulls away with a sharp hiss; the oversimulation of his cock borders on painful as he smiles down at you.

Heeseung is right behind him, pulling out of you and collapsing back on his knees.

You’re left completely wrecked and breathless. The salty taste of Jay’s comes on your lips is exquisite. The feeling of Heeseung's comes dripping out of your cunt onto the sheets below is erotic.

Without another word, the three of you collapse onto the mattress. Sheets are entirely too hot and damp to be comfortable.

You lie on your back, body bruised in all the right ways, hair damp and messy from the act.

Heeseung collapses to your left, Jay following softly behind on your right.

“You—”

“We—I—”

“Holy Fuck—”

The three of you chuckle in synch, completely breathless.

None of you can speak. You just lie together, limbs intertwined, the bed a complete mess.

“I can’t believe we just did that.” You murmur, smiling softly as you mindlessly brush your fingertips across your plumped lips.

“God, I never imagined—That…” Jay says weakly with a soft chuckle. His hard chest rises and falls as he struggles to catch his breath.

“That was incredible.” Heesueng whispers, his body still twitching from the intensity of his pleasure.

You turn to face Jay, your lips finding his in an instant. With a soft moan, his hand slides into your hair as he kisses you back.

You pull away, gasping for air, only to turn and give Heeseung the same. His hands slide across your waist, his lips softly molding against your own.

Your eyes dart back up to the extravagant ceiling. You rest your hand overtop your bare stomach as you try to process just how good every aspect of that felt.

In that moment, there are no crowns, no vows, or duty.

Just two different men, completely and utterly yours.

“I don't think I'm going to be able to walk tomorrow.” You huff out with a playful chuckle.

Jay leans in to kiss your temple, and his fingertips softly brush your hair out of the way.

“What can I say, I'm a man of my word,” Jay whispers softly.

“As are I—My god, you were so perfect.” Heeseung murmurs, his thumbs lightly brushing the skin beneath your ribs.

“I don’t want to change this, any of this—” You whisper, completely breathless and spent.

“Good thing you don’t have to.” Jay murmurs, his lips curving into a soft smile as he already imagines having you again.

“You have us, both of us.” Heeseung whispers, gently dipping down to kiss the soft skin of your shoulder.

Here you are, the smell of sex surrounding you. The hearts are full of love and devotion at your side.

One man you swore to serve—

And the other you vowed to protect.

But tonight, between their touch—

You let yourself believe you don’t have to make a choice.

The cold feeling of steel against marble was all too familiar to you.

You kneeled in front of the king, armor polished, sword wound tightly to your side.

Beside the king himself rests Heeseung, sitting tall in his throne at your left. His crown still askew, his crimson uniform now perfectly polished.

He watches you with awe, his lips those perfect lips, smiles down at you, proud and full of gratitude.

“You may rise,” The king commands.

You stand tall, shoulders back, and proud that with strength completed your trial fully.

Jay stands at the king's right, his navy blue cape softly draped across his broad shoulders and his back.

“Captain.” The king instructs.

The sound of Jay's footsteps is loud in the silence as he closes the distance between you.

The king clears his throat, announcing your success to the world.

“This woman has proven that she possesses all the traits necessary to be crowned one of Thaldoria’s Aurelian Guard. Her bravery, loyalty, and strength have proved to me, her king, that she is more than worthy of this title.”

Tears swell behind your eyes at the kings words. After all these years, through all the struggles and headache.

You finally made it.

And its even better with the men you love at your side.

Jay holds back tears as he unsheathes his sword; it glimmers in the candlelight of the throne room.

You bow, heart hammering as he taps each of your shoulders.

“You are now the newest member of Thaldoria’s Aurelian Guard.” Jay chokes out, his own voice shaky as he realizes you finally made it.

And he couldn’t be any happier to have you at his side.

With a strong voice, the king narrates again

“Per tradition of this kingdom, this woman has also succeeded in her very own personal trial. My son is alive and well at my side. To this kingdom—to me that's priceless.”

Heeseung approaches next, a crown nestled between his hands. It’s silver, encompassing sapphires and rubies in a delicate nature.

He lets out a shaky breath as you bow, holding back tears as he bestows the crown upon your head.

The two men take their positions next to the king. With pride, you turn to face the entirety of the Aurelian Guard behind you.

The Guard bows in your honor.

The queen steps behind you, swiftly clasping a cape around your neck. The deep crimson pools at your feet as it sits heavy on your shoulders.

The king proudly announces your name, proclaiming you officially an Aurelian Knight.

But not before you catch a glimpse of Madam Colley in tears, happily smiling behind one of the windows of the throne room.

That’s when you break.

You smile as you glance around the throne room.

You made it.

Your title in hand and two men strong at your sides.

And you couldn’t ask for anything more.

Kate's Note: I hope you guys enjoyed this fic! It was so, so much fun to write! It's my longest fic to date, and I'm so beyond happy to share it. This idea has been sitting in my drafts for months now, and it feels so incredibly good to finally tackle it! Like always i appreciate every like, comment and message. It turly, truly gives me the motivation to keep writing stories for you all.

I wish all of you the best,

xoxo kate<3

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noxitsnox · 5 days ago

Text

HOW I MET SUNGHOON

→ pairing: downbad!sunghoon x fem!reader // ִromcom· friends to lovers · slow burn · smut ࣪· crack → synopsis: sunghoon was always the kind of guy who fell too hard, too fast, the type who thought a shared playlist meant commitment and that liking the same sandwich was fate. spoiler: it never worked out. well, that’s until you showed up. he didn’t mean to fall for you. you were just his friend. the funny, smart, annoyingly pretty friend. it wasn’t supposed to turn into heart flutters and late-night guitar practice. but somewhere between friendly teasing, shared drinks, and the world’s longest friendzone, sunghoon realized he might actually be in love. oops! → word count: 28k // warnings: mdni!! contains explicit content, praising kink, oral sex (f. receiving), unprotected sex, slight overstimulation, switch dynamics, dirty talk / explicit language, face riding

sunghoon was always that type of hopeless romantic guy. not in a write a poem under the rain kind of way, but he used to believe in signs: like if a girl knew all the words to a blink-182 song, she was definitely his soulmate. one time in college, he thought a cashier was in love with him because she gave him an extra ketchup packet. another time, he made a mixtape for a girl he barely knew just because she said she liked the strokes. he even labeled it “volume 1,” fully expecting a relationship to follow. it didn’t.

he was that guy who said “i miss you” before it made sense and thought hand-holding in public was sacred. the guy who overanalyzed text punctuation. the guy who once bought matching mugs after a fourth date because she laughed at his seinfeld reference. spoiler alert: she ghosted him the next day, and he kept the mugs anyway. because love, right? yeah, that’s it. that was sunghoon.

well, until he met you.

but, before he met you, sunghoon was stuck in that loop of almosts and maybes and "it’s not you, it’s me" texts sent at 2 a.m. he had a tendency to turn background characters into main characters in his head. if someone asked for directions on the subway, he’d spend the next hour wondering if he should’ve asked for her number. maybe she liked coffee shops. maybe they could’ve gone to the one on 8th street. maybe they would’ve fallen in love over cappuccinos and sarcasm. maybe he ruined it.

he was, in short, delusional in the most innocent way. and weirdly proud of it, like it was his thing. like being a hopeless romantic was just part of the package, along with his obsession with vintage sneakers, his habit of alphabetizing his dvds, pokémon go and his belief that fate always showed up fashionably late.

he had no idea that the reason would be you.

sunghoon and jay had been living together for a little over a year now. the apartment wasn’t big, and it definitely wasn’t quiet (mostly because it sat right above a bar that played the same six songs on loop every night) but it had decent water pressure, a couch that technically belonged to jungwon, and a fridge that made an odd noise every time someone closed the bathroom door. but they made it work. jay was the cleaner one, sunghoon was the one who always left his hoodie on the kitchen chair, and somehow they found a balance.

they didn’t talk about feelings much, not directly. but every now and then, usually when one of them was eating something straight from the bag or halfway through a bad tv rerun, the topic would come up. on this particular night, sunghoon was lying on the couch with his legs stretched out and one hand buried in an open bag of cereal. he hadn’t even bothered with milk. the tv was on, volume too low to follow, but he wasn’t really paying attention anyway.

“i think i’m gonna die alone,” he said, like he was talking about the weather.

jay, sitting on the floor next to the coffee table with his laptop open, didn’t look up. “what happened now?”

“nothing happened. that’s the problem. i haven’t been on a date in, like, four months. maybe five.”

jay looked at him, unimpressed. “you say that like it’s a medical emergency.”

“it kind of is,” sunghoon said, sitting up just enough to gesture with the cereal bag.

jay snorted. “what happened to that girl from the climbing gym? the one who asked for your number after you slipped off the wall?”

sunghoon stared at the ceiling. “we went out once. she spent the entire time telling me about her ex who lives in canada and how he doesn’t believe in monogamy but they’re spiritually married anyway.”

jay blinked. “okay. next. what about the girl from the bookstore?” jay added, trying again.

“oh, right,” sunghoon said, already regretting the memory. “we had a good first date. coffee, conversation, the whole thing. second date, she brought her roommate. didn’t warn me or anything.”

“why?”

“she said she wanted a second opinion on me.”

jay closed his laptop. “man.”

“i know.” there was a short pause. sunghoon leaned his head back against the couch and let out a slow breath through his nose. he wasn’t trying to be dramatic, he was just tired of the effort it took to get halfway close to something that never turned out to be anything at all. “maybe i peaked romantically at seventeen,” he muttered.

“no one peaks at seventeen,” jay said.

“you did.”

“that’s different,” jay shrugged. “i’m hot.”

jay had been in a relationship for years, since he was 17. like proper long-term, holiday-travel-planning, toothbrush-in-the-bathroom relationship. it was steady, and sunghoon respected that, even if sometimes it made his own track record feel like a string of blurry first dates and weird storytimes.

sunghoon shifted on the couch, grabbing another handful of cereal from the open bag on his lap. “you know what’s sad? the only consistent interaction i’ve had with a woman lately is with some random pokémon go user who keeps stealing the gym at the end of our street.”

jay glanced over, already amused. “what?”

“i’ve been holding it down for team valor since, like, last year. and every night—every single night—this person comes and knocks me out. same user. snoopygirl_98. blue team, obviously. i think she hates me.”

jay raised an eyebrow. “maybe she’s flirting.”

“by humiliating me in front of a 7-eleven?”

“some people flirt differently.”

sunghoon let out a tired sigh, leaning back against the couch. “i just want to feel something again.”

jay reached for the remote. “you wanna go downstairs later? to the bar? maybe someone down there has a thing for emotionally exhausted guys.”

“you think it’s my moment?”

“statistically, you’re due.”

sunghoon didn’t answer right away. he didn’t believe in statistics, he believed in luck. and that night, for the first time in a while, he was about to have some. because you were downstairs.

sunghoon went to the bar with jay mostly out of stubbornness. he said he didn’t feel like going, said it was a weeknight, said the chances of anything interesting happening were basically zero, but still changed out of his old hoodie and put on one that didn’t smell like takeout. the bar was familiar, and warm in the way places start to feel when you’ve been going for long enough that the guy behind the counter knows your usual.

they found jake by the pool table, already halfway through his drink. he turned before they even said anything and grinned like he’d been expecting them. sunghoon gave jay a look and followed them toward one of the tables near the back, where a few other familiar faces from college were already sitting, people they didn’t see that often anymore but still shared enough history with to make small talk easy.

and that’s when he saw you.

you were sitting to the left of jake, stirring your drink with a straw and laughing at something someone had just said. it wasn’t loud or dramatic or exaggerated, but it caught his attention anyway. there was something about how comfortable you looked at the table, how you weren’t trying too hard to be part of the conversation and still somehow felt like the center of it.

he stopped walking for half a second before jay gave him a light push on the shoulder to keep moving. jake started introducing people in his usual scattered way, pointing quickly and not really giving anyone time to react. “this is y/n—she’s a friend from my econ class back in the day—and this is sunghoon, he used to live with me first year. you two haven’t met, right?”

sunghoon nodded once and said a quick “hey,” followed by a smile that he hoped looked normal. you replied with a polite “hey” back, and that was it. a few seconds, not much, but enough for him to realize he was already too aware of how close you were sitting to jake, how often you looked at him when you laughed, how your hand moved when you adjusted your glass.

he sat across the table next to jay, didn’t say much for a while. mostly listened, nodded, laughed when it made sense. but every few minutes his eyes would flick back to you, casually, like he wasn’t really paying attention, even though he absolutely was. there was something about you that made him feel quieter than usual. not nervous, but just unsure of what to do with himself.

about fifteen minutes later, heeseung showed up. he walked in already smiling, already halfway into the group and he greeted you with a hug (longer than a casual one) and slid into the seat next to you without asking. you two started talking right away, and it didn’t look like small talk. sunghoon watched for a few seconds longer than he meant to, then looked away and focused on his drink. he didn’t know your story, maybe you and heeseung were just close, maybe it was something else. he wasn’t going to ask, of course. but he was already wondering if he’d missed his window.

the next few days after that night were... something else. jay didn’t let it go. at least twice a day, he’d throw a casual question over from the other room or while making coffee, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “so, you liked her, didn’t you?”

and sunghoon would roll his eyes and try to sound way too cool for someone who’d clearly been thinking about you more than he wanted to admit. “what, no. she seemed nice. and i mean, she’s cute. i have eyes, i am aware.”

but jay wasn’t buying it. he pushed harder, always the annoying friend who actually cares. “okay, but did you ask jake for her number yet?” sunghoon tried to laugh it off, but the answer was always no.

“i didn’t. she’s way too pretty for me to just go asking like it’s no big deal. and besides, from what i saw, she’s definitely not single. heeseung was all over her, talking like they had some history or something.”

sunghoon tried to convince jay (and himself) that he wasn’t jealous, just realistic. he reminded himself he wasn’t some guy who just jumped into things blindly, especially not when the other guy was heeseung, who’d been friends with them both for years. so instead of asking for her number, he did what he does best: replayed the whole night in his head. every laugh you gave, every way you leaned in when heeseung was talking, the little things he couldn’t quite figure out.

he thought about how quiet he’d been, how stupid he probably looked trying to play it cool when all he wanted was to ask you questions about everything. but most of all, he wondered if there’d ever be a moment where he could just be the guy sitting next to you, not some awkward stranger watching from across the table.

sunghoon was in one of those moods where it felt like nothing ever went his way. you know, the kind of streak where every little thing seemed to slip through his fingers. dates that fizzled out before they even got started, conversations that ended awkwardly, moments that should’ve felt right but somehow didn’t. by the time he met you, he was almost done with all the usual nonsense. he wasn’t expecting fireworks or some perfect romcom scene. he was just trying not to mess things up this time. so when you showed up, he kept his guard up, quiet, careful not to get too invested too fast. he told himself he was being smart, protecting himself from another round of whatever it was that had been happening before.

so on the next week, sunghoon found himself at jake’s place again for another gathering, the kind that felt like a regular thing now even though he was still figuring out what he actually wanted from all this. when he walked in, the first thing that caught his eye was you, sitting in the corner with a group of friends. he tried to act casual as he made his way over, but inside, every step felt like a careful calculation.

his mind raced through possible ways to start the conversation without sounding awkward or, worse, desperate. “don’t mess this up,” he told himself quietly, repeating it like a mantra as he got closer. when he finally reached you, he caught a glimpse of your t-shirt, a band he knew well, mcfly. it was kind of a guilty pleasure for him. back in high school, he’d picked up their songs mostly because a lot of girls liked them, and it had been his secret move to catch their attention. but somewhere along the way, he realized he actually liked the music, even if he’d never admit it out loud. it was one of those small things, but for sunghoon, it was like a secret handshake, a sign that maybe you two weren’t completely from different planets.

he cleared his throat and said, “hey, nice shirt. didn’t expect to see someone else wearing mcfly around here.”

you glanced up, a bit surprised, then smiled. “yeah, i guess it’s not super common these days.”

sunghoon nodded, trying to sound casual but feeling a bit weird admitting it. “i mean, i used to listen to them all the time back in high school. don’t tell anyone, but tom’s songwriting always stuck with me.”

you raised your eyebrows, clearly surprised. “wait, really? you actually like mcfly?”

he laughed quietly, running a hand through his hair. “yeah, i picked up their songs ‘cause a lot of girls were into them, but then i kind of got hooked. it’s like... guilty pleasure, but also genuine.”

you smirked, “guilty pleasure is the best kind, honestly.”

sunghoon felt a little relieved she wasn’t making fun of him. “exactly.”

you both laughed softly, and for a moment, sunghoon forgot to overthink everything. it was just two people, talking about a band, and somehow that felt a lot easier than he expected. sunghoon found himself just wanting to listen to you talk. the way you casually shared stories about concerts and favorite songs felt different from the usual small talk he was used to. it wasn’t like he was trying to impress you or be someone he wasn’t, it was just two people connecting over something simple.

he tried to keep the conversation going, so he asked, “so, do you come to these hangouts often, or is this just a one-time thing?”

you smiled again, “pretty often. it’s nice to see familiar faces and meet new ones.”

sunghoon nodded, feeling a warmth in his chest that wasn’t just from the beer he’d had earlier. inside, he was thinking, yeah, it’s nice to meet you too. but he kept that to himself. for now, he was happy just being there, talking, and maybe, just maybe, hoping there would be more moments like this.

the conversation flowed better than he expected. you talked about concerts you’d been to, favorite songs, weird stories about how you got into the band. sunghoon was surprised at how easy it was to laugh and just be yourself around you. but then, as the night went on, he realized the familiar sinking feeling, the one that hit every time before: the friendzone. you were funny, smart, and clearly someone he wanted to be more than friends with, but the way you joked and leaned into the group, it was clear you saw him like the guy who always had a good playlist, not the one who was secretly hoping for more.

and after that night, things started to slip into something that sunghoon didn’t quite expect. you two began to follow each other on social media. just the usual likes and comments that somehow made his day a little better whenever his phone buzzed. at first, he told himself it was just casual. friends catching up, sharing bits of their lives.

but slowly, he realized it wasn’t so casual anymore. he found himself scrolling through your photos longer than he meant to, replaying your messages in his head, wondering what your smile looked like when you weren’t looking. jay noticed too, because sunghoon was not subtle about it at all. every few days, he’d throw the question at sunghoon like it was some kind of game. “so, are you into her?”

and every time, sunghoon would laugh it off. “nah, man, just friends. nothing like that.”

but inside, he was tangled up in a mess of what ifs and maybe-nots. he told himself he was fine just being friends, that getting too close wasn’t worth the risk. he was tired of things going sideways, of hoping for something that never quite stuck. but the more he tried to convince himself, the harder it became to ignore the way his chest tightened when you popped up on his screen or the way his mind wandered to what it’d be like if things actually went right.

he wasn’t ready to say it out loud, not yet. but the truth was, he was falling, probably faster than he wanted to admit. and every time jay asked, he’d just smile and shake his head, pretending he didn’t feel a thing. pretending was easier, at least for now.

it was a saturday afternoon, and sunghoon had been outside for a solid twenty minutes trying (once again) to reclaim the gym down the street. it had become a bit of an obsession at that point. snoopygirl_98 had taken it over again, and this time, she’d stacked it with an annoyingly strong blissey that just wouldn’t budge. he was pacing in front of the bakery on the corner, furiously tapping his screen, muttering under his breath like it was personal. because, honestly, it kinda was. whoever snoopygirl_98 was, she had been tormenting his team valor pride for weeks, and he was convinced she was doing it on purpose now.

right as he was about to give up and switch to a different gym, a notification popped up on his screen, not from the game, but a message. from you.

[y/n:] hey hoon!! are you busy?

his thumb hovered over the screen for a second, stomach doing that little flip it always did when your name showed up. he stared at it, then at the game, then back at the message. screw the gym.

[sunghoon:] Not really, what’s up?

the reply came fast, like you’d already had it typed and ready to send.

[y/n:] i’m at the mart near your place and i got way too many bags… like an embarrassing amount… and i couldn’t think of anyone else to ask. would you be a hero and help me carry these to my building? 🥺

sunghoon blinked at the screen. and then again. and then stood there, in the middle of the sidewalk, processing what just happened. you couldn’t think of anyone else to ask. now, logically, he knew that meant nothing. you were friends, this was a friend thing. helping someone carry groceries was classic friend behavior. textbook friendzone. but still, his chest did a weird fluttery thing, and he could already hear jay’s voice in his head saying something smug like, “not into her, huh?”

he texted back:

[sunghoon:] On my way! Don’t move. Be there in five

he slipped his phone into his jacket pocket and took off in the direction of the store, telling himself it wasn’t a big deal. it’s just a nice thing to do. good karma. neighbors helping neighbors, nothing more. but deep down, as he walked a little too fast and adjusted his hair in the reflection of a parked car, sunghoon knew exactly what he was doing. and he knew exactly why he was doing it.

because, yeah, maybe he was in the friendzone. but he was in the friendzone with you. and that still felt a lot better than being anywhere else.

when he got to the store, there you were, standing on the curb with three overstuffed tote bags and two plastic ones hanging from your wrists, trying to balance them without toppling over. you looked up, caught sight of him, and smiled like it was the most natural thing in the world to call sunghoon out of the blue and make him carry your groceries like some kind of personal delivery boy. and the worst part is that he didn’t even mind.

“you weren’t kidding,” he said, eyeing the bags as he took most of them from you without hesitation.

“i was being modest,” you replied, a little out of breath. “there were two more bags but the guy at the checkout told me to stop.”

“glad someone had the courage to say it,” he joked, and you nudged him with your elbow as the two of you started walking.

at first, it was all easy conversation, nothing new there. you talked about how the store rearranged the snack aisle again, how you couldn’t find your favorite granola, and how the cashier gave you a coupon for cat food even though you didn’t have a cat. he listened, laughed in all the right places, and added his own running commentary. it was the kind of rhythm you two had settled into without ever really trying.

but somewhere between the store and your apartment building, as he adjusted the bags in his arms and looked at you rambling about frozen waffles, something quietly clicked in his chest. he didn’t know when it had started, maybe back at the bar, maybe during some other moment he didn’t register properly, but it was there now, and it was loud.

he liked you.

like, actually liked you. not the fake-crush-you-get-on-a-friend thing. not the maybe i’m just lonely thing. a real, actual crush that made his hands sweat and his thoughts spiral and his pulse skip a little every time you looked at him too long. and he had been telling himself it wasn’t that, because it was easier and because it was safer. but yeah, it was that.

you held the door to your building open with your hip and motioned for him to follow you. “don’t judge the mess,” you said casually.

sunghoon didn’t say anything, just smiled, still mildly stunned by the realization swirling in his head. when you opened the door to your apartment and he stepped inside, it was like stepping into a personality, your personality. there were string lights that didn’t match but somehow made sense together. mugs with little quotes on them. a record player in the corner next to a stack of vinyls that included both taylor swift and metallica. polaroids on the fridge. a half-finished puzzle on the coffee table. a plant that was definitely dying but still hanging in there. it was so you, in every way.

and sunghoon stood there holding your bags, pretending he wasn’t staring.

“you can drop them by the kitchen,” you said, already pulling off your coat and tossing it on the couch.

he did, and then paused, glancing around again. “your place is…” he trailed off, not sure how to say weirdly perfect without sounding creepy.

you looked over your shoulder. “chaotic?”

“adorable,” he said, before he could stop himself.

you raised an eyebrow, amused. “really?”

“uh. i mean, yeah. in a—like—it’s very you.”

he wanted to slap himself. but you just smiled again and started unpacking your bags like it wasn’t a big deal.

and over the next few weeks, things kind of continued. sunghoon found himself falling into this strange rhythm with you. not in a we’re clearly falling for each other kind of way, but in a i’m clearly in love and you keep sending me memes at 2am like that means nothing kind of way. and he didn’t even know how it happened. it was like one minute he was helping you carry groceries and the next he was learning your coffee order, your go-to karaoke song, and the name of the stuffed penguin you’d had since you were six. so the friendzone? yeah, it was thriving. stable. deeply rooted in reality.

“she called me dude today,” sunghoon said one night, flopping onto the couch with a dramatic sigh.

jay didn’t look up from his phone. “right. and?”

“no, but, like. she said it in the friendly way. like a bro way. like a ‘dude, you have to see this video of a cat falling off a table’ kind of way.”

jay glanced over. “so… you’re mad she’s comfortable with you?” sunghoon tossed a pillow at him but couldn’t deny the accuracy.

he was at that stage where he’d memorized your laugh patterns, saved photos from your story by accident, and started recognizing songs from your spotify playlists. he’d accidentally started saying some of your catchphrases. he was, in short, doomed.

you, meanwhile, were obliviously warm and kind and effortlessly funny, the kind of funny that didn’t try too hard, which made it worse. you’d text him stuff like “is this a normal dinner?” with a photo of cereal and pickles, and sunghoon would still stare at his phone for ten minutes smiling like a loser. he hated it. no, he loved it. no, actually, he hated that he loved it.

once, you called him at midnight just to ask if frogs had teeth (they do, sort of), and he answered like that was a perfectly normal thing for a person to do. it was around then that jay gave up even pretending to be surprised.

“just tell her you like her,” he said, halfway through a bowl of cereal.

sunghoon groaned. “i’d rather eat glass.”

“then stop looking at your phone like it’s a shrine.”

“i’m not.”

“you’re literally on her instagram zooming in on her bookshelf.”

“she has good taste in books, jay.”

“sure. tell the bookshelf how you feel.”

sunghoon ignored him, of course. he was committed to the bit now. committed to being your very helpful, very available, very emotionally tortured friend. it was pathetic, but it was also the best he’d felt in months.

jungwon’s birthday was on a saturday, and somehow the group decided that the best way to celebrate turning twenty-something was to put on rented shoes and throw heavy balls down a lane under disco lights. sunghoon hadn’t been to a bowling alley in years, but he wasn’t about to admit that. especially not when you showed up in jeans, a ponytail, and a hyper-specific competitiveness in your eyes that made him slightly nervous.

“you any good?” you asked, grabbing a bowling ball way too confidently.

sunghoon shrugged like it was nothing. “decent.”

“hm. cocky.”

“you scared?”

you raised an eyebrow. “you wish.”

and that was it: challenge accepted. sunghoon spent the next hour entirely too focused on beating you, despite the fact that it was literally jungwon’s birthday and he had no reason to be acting like it was the bowling olympics. but there was something about the way you teased him every time he got a spare, or the smug way you celebrated your strikes like you’d just ended world hunger, that gave him this ridiculous flutter in his chest he didn’t know what to do with.

you stuck your tongue out at him after your third strike in a row. “might wanna switch to the kiddie lane.”

“i’m just letting you win,” he said, deadpan.

“oh? how generous.”

he rolled his eyes, grinning despite himself. he hated how easy it was to like you. he hated how every little joke made him want to high-five his past self for deciding to help carry your groceries that one time. he also hated how that warm, stupid feeling in his chest immediately froze when he saw heeseung walk in.

you spotted heeseung almost instantly and lit up in that way people only do when they see someone they’re extremely fond of. you waved, borderline giddy, and rushed over to hug him like you hadn’t seen him in years, even though sunghoon was pretty sure you’d just posted a story with him the weekend before.

sunghoon watched from the far side of the seating area, trying to act normal. casual. unbothered. he adjusted his grip on his bowling ball even though he wasn’t playing that round and stared at the score screen like it had personally offended him. right. heeseung. the heeseung. the possible thing that he kept forgetting might exist. because you didn’t really talk about it. maybe there was nothing, since you have never mentioned it. and that only made it worse, because it left sunghoon’s brain wide open for theories and assumptions and a quiet, unspoken jealousy that he refused to acknowledge out loud.

jay leaned over. “you good?”

“yup.”

“you look like you’re about to throw that ball at someone’s head.”

sunghoon glanced down at the ball in his hands. “just focused.”

“focused on…?”

“winning.”

“you’re literally not up next.”

sunghoon ignored him. instead, he sat back down, pretended he wasn’t looking over at you and heeseung talking like you were in your own little world, and reminded himself that he was your friend. your helpful, emotionally-stable, always-up-for-carrying-heavy-things friend. he could handle that. probably.

and the bowling alley closed at midnight, but the group was still buzzing with leftover adrenaline and just enough alcohol to make walking in a straight line optional. naturally, that meant the next stop was the bar downstairs from sunghoon and jay’s apartment, their usual post-everything spot. jay had jungwon slung over his back in a chaotic piggyback ride situation, spinning him in slow, clumsy circles as jungwon yelled, “this is the best birthday ever!” with his arms out like a drunk airplane.

sunghoon stood at the bar, balancing on the balls of his feet, waiting for the bartender to finish pouring their next round. his hoodie sleeves were rolled up, and he was doing mental math trying to figure out if they’d ordered six or seven beers when someone stepped up beside him.

“hey,” heeseung said, casual, nodding toward the cluster of friends behind them. “you having fun?”

sunghoon smiled politely. “yeah, i am. it’s alright.”

“i’m glad you and y/n got close,” heeseung said, tone sincere. “she’s mentioned it a few times. says you’re easy to talk to.” sunghoon blinked and heeseung chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. “i mean it. she doesn’t say stuff like that about just anyone. i think she really appreciates your friendship.”

sunghoon nodded slowly, a small smile forming on his lips. part of him warmed at the idea that you talked about him at all, that maybe he wasn’t just another background character in your life. maybe you actually noticed him, his jokes, his presence, his friendship. but then again, that was the word. friendship. and hearing that from heeseung — heeseung, who might very well be the guy you curled up with at the end of the night inside sunghoon’s head — made it land like a compliment wrapped in a punch.

so sunghoon gave a small nod, grabbed the tray, and turned back toward the table with a practiced smile, careful not to drop anything or show too much on his face.

the night had mellowed into that sleepy, blurry stage where everyone was too tired to keep the party going, but not quite ready to say goodbye. the staircase outside sunghoon and jay’s condo was full of muffled laughter and shuffling feet. jay was half-carrying, half-dragging jungwon toward the entrance, mumbling something about him always passing out like a toddler on holidays.

sunghoon trailed a few steps behind them, eyes on the floor, brain already shifting into autopilot. he was thinking about how he’d need to find an extra blanket for jungwon, and how the couch springs were going to wreck his back by morning, and how weird it was that every night with you ended the same: him pretending he didn’t want to stay longer.

“sunghoon?”

your voice cut through the entrance. he turned around to find you a few steps down on the staircase, looking up at him. your makeup was a little smudged from the night, and your hair was a bit messy from the wind, but you looked so relaxed. like you’d had a good time, like you didn’t want it to end just yet.

“hey,” he said, walking back toward you.

you smiled, warm and sleepy. “i had so much fun tonight. like, actual fun. not just polite fun.”

he chuckled. “me too.”

“we still haven’t settled the bowling score though,” you added, a teasing glint in your eyes. “we’re technically tied, and i don’t like leaving things unresolved.”

sunghoon blinked. “so you’re challenging me to a rematch?”

“obviously,” you grinned. “i want a proper win next time.”

he nodded, a little slower than he meant to. “yeah. okay. i’m in.”

and you just smiled at him like that answer had been a given. like you knew he’d say yes, like this was easy. normal, friendly. but as he turned back toward the apartment, your words kept echoing in his head. “i had so much fun tonight.”, “i want a proper win next time.”

it wasn’t just what you said, it was how you said it, the way you looked at him, like the night wasn’t fully over until you said goodnight to him specifically. it sent his thoughts spiraling in that annoyingly hopeful way he tried so hard to avoid. maybe he wasn’t imagining things. maybe it wasn’t just him, falling into another crush he couldn’t manage. maybe there was something… there.

and yet, as he followed jay inside, stepped over jungwon’s half-unconscious body sprawled on the rug, and shut the door behind him, he still couldn’t tell if he was being seen the way he wanted to be seen. he was getting whiplash from hoping too much and pretending not to. and somewhere between getting a glass of water and setting up a pillow for jungwon, he realized he was completely, hopelessly, predictably into you. as if that wasn’t obvious already.

over the next few weeks, sunghoon slowly started to realize just how tangled up he was in his feelings for you. he found himself checking his phone a little more often, hoping for a message, and when you did invite him out, he tried to play it cool even though his stomach was doing flips.

most of the times you hung out, it was at gatherings with friends, the kind of casual, loud hangouts where it was hard to have a serious conversation. you would appear in the middle of a group, laughing and teasing someone, and sunghoon would catch himself watching you more than the game or the conversation. he kept guessing, quietly, that maybe there was something going on between you and heeseung, especially since you seemed close, comfortable around each other in a way that made sunghoon’s stomach tighten a little. but he never brought it up. not to you, not to jake, not even to himself out loud. it was easier to assume something was there than to face the uncertainty.

then, one evening, jake mentioned an ex of yours during a conversation, like a name dropped in passing. heeseung’s reaction caught sunghoon off guard. “that guy was such a jerk,” heeseung said, his voice low and almost protective. “you deserve so much better. you deserve someone who actually is, at least, not a jerk.”

that moment clicked something in sunghoon’s head. if heeseung was talking like that, maybe there wasn’t anything going on between you two after all. and that thought was both a relief and a reason to panic. because it meant the way was clear, but it also meant time was running out. you were amazing, and he was pretty sure there were plenty of other guys out there, sliding into your dms, trying to get your attention.

he started to feel a weird mix of excitement and anxiety, like a kid realizing he was finally allowed to play the game but also realizing how fast the clock was ticking. he wasn’t sure what to do with all those feelings, so most of the time, he just tried to keep calm on the outside while his mind raced ahead, imagining how to not mess it up.

one evening, sitting on the couch with jay scrolling through his phone, sunghoon finally decided to open up. he talked about how seeing you made him feel like he was stuck in this weird in-between, wanting more but not knowing how to get there without messing everything up. jay looked up, gave him that familiar sideways grin, and said something simple but solid: “bro, you just gotta be patient. wait for the right moment. don’t go jumping in all dramatic like you usually do.”

sunghoon rolled his eyes but knew jay was right. “yeah, i get it. no mugs with her face on it, no mixtapes, no playlist called ‘songs that remind me of you.’”

“exactly,” jay said, deadpan. “try being normal for once.”

sunghoon leaned back and closed his eyes, but his brain immediately went into overdrive. his mind was something like: okay, no mugs, got it. but what about a poem? no, that’s way too much. maybe a funny meme? too lame. what about baking cookies? wait, does she even like sweets? maybe she’s gluten-free. no clue. okay, no mixtapes, but what if i make a playlist? subtle though, not like ‘this is for you.’ maybe call it ‘songs i listen to when i’m feeling chill’? no, too vague. or maybe a mug but just plain, with a small quote? nah, still weird. what if i write her a note? no, i’m not a middle schooler. or just ask her out straight up? no, no, no. gotta wait for the moment. but when?

he sighed and looked over at jay, who was now smirking. “guess being normal is harder than it sounds.”

and a few weeks later, there was this party, and it was loud, crowded, and exactly the kind of chaos sunghoon didn’t really like. but there you were, halfway through your third drink, giggling at something nobody else had said, and instantly becoming the center of attention. you were funny, charming, and a little bit tipsy, the perfect combination for making everyone laugh without even trying. sunghoon, of course, was watching you with that panicked, how do i handle this look that only his closest friends knew too well.

somehow, the whole group decided that keeping an eye on you was his responsibility. no one said it out loud, but it was like an unspoken rule. maybe it was because he looked like the most responsible one, or maybe because you kept drifting toward him like a magnet, waving your arms dramatically while telling stories with way too much enthusiasm.

“sunghoon, you’re not going to believe what happened to me today,” you slurred slightly, swaying on your feet but managing to stay upright. “this guy at the coffee shop said i looked like a celebrity.” you wiggled your eyebrows and smiled at him, waiting for his reaction.

sunghoon blinked, trying to hide the part of his brain that was screaming she’s drunk and adorable and how do i even respond to this? “uh, that’s… great,” he said carefully, hoping it sounded casual. “you told him you’re famous now?”

you laughed, a little too loudly. “no, i said i’m just famous in my own head. get it?”

“yeah,” he smiled softly, already feeling like he’d lost the ability to say anything clever. “definitely famous.”

you reached out and grabbed his arm, leaning closer. “you’re no fun tonight, sunghoon. loosen up.” your eyes were sparkling mischievously, and sunghoon’s heart did a stupid little flip that he did not want anyone else to notice.

inside, he was running through every possible reaction: play it cool, be chill, don’t stare like a lovesick puppy. smile, laugh when she laughs, don’t mention the fact that her breath smells like cheap vodka. okay, offer her water? no, she’ll think i’m momming her. maybe just get another drink for myself to stay steady? nah, that’s just an excuse to drink too.

while he was debating this internal chaos, you suddenly burst out laughing at your own joke about the coffee shop guy, and sunghoon couldn’t help but smile, feeling himself falling deeper into whatever this was between you two. “you know,” you said, suddenly serious for a second, “i’m glad you’re here. it’s kinda nice having someone look out for me.”

sunghoon’s breath caught. “yeah, well, someone’s gotta do it.” he tried to sound casual, but there was no hiding the softness in his voice.

later, when you were wobbling a little too much to stand by yourself, sunghoon was immediately there to steady you. “i got you,” he said, wrapping an arm around your waist as you leaned on him. everyone else just watched and smiled, like this was all part of the plan.

on the way out, you stumbled a bit and he tightened his grip. “thanks for being my human crutch tonight,” you joked.

“anytime,” he replied, feeling like he should say something deeper but all he could think was please don’t fall, please don’t fall.

walking you home was quiet but comforting. you kept mumbling random things about the party and some wild idea for a band you wanted to start. sunghoon just listened, his mind half on your words and half on how lucky he felt to be the one walking by your side. and when you finally reached your apartment, you turned and gave him a sleepy smile. “thanks for tonight, hoon. you’re a good friend.”

he nodded, smiling back, but inside, the familiar mix of hope and panic swirled again. good friend was a start, but maybe he wanted to be more than that. for now, though, he was happy to just get you home safe, and try not to mess up the next time you got this adorably drunk.

you paused at the door of your apartment, a little wobbly and smiling, looking at sunghoon with eyes that were definitely feeling the weight of the night. “hey, you don’t have to walk all the way home alone, you know,” you said, leaning against the wall for balance. “why don’t you just come in for a bit? it’s late, and honestly, i’d be worried about you.”

sunghoon gave a nervous smile, trying to look confident. “nah, i’m good. i’m a big boy, i can handle it.”

he felt your gaze, half intense, half sweet, half amused, as if silently asking, really? so you laughed softly, a little tipsy but sincere. “i’m gonna stay up all night worried if you don’t come in. and my couch is super comfortable, like, really. i could sleep there, and you’ll take the bed.”

sunghoon stopped for a second, his brain trying to decode the innocent but kinda tempting offer. wait, she wants me to sleep on her bed? he thought, feeling his heart speed up just a little. okay, maybe more than a little.

“never,” he said with a playful grin, “i’m never gonna let you sleep on the couch. you sleep on the bed, and i’ll take the couch.”

you widened your eyes like “aha, so you’re saying you’ll stay?” with a mischievous smile, clearly enjoying seeing him flustered.

sunghoon tried to play it cool, but inside his head it was total chaos. okay, breathe. don’t do anything dumb. but damn, this is really nice. “yeah,” he said, “guess that’s the deal.”

you laughed, flopping back on the couch like it was your personal bed already. “good. now i won’t have to worry. and you’ll be close if i need you to save me from any weird noises or monsters.”

sunghoon chuckled. “don’t worry. i’m way scarier than any monster.”

you were already sprawled out on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, that sleepy, slightly goofy smile playing on your lips. sunghoon stood there for a moment, just watching you, feeling that weird mix of wanting to be helpful but not quite sure how. finally, he cleared his throat, trying to sound more confident than he felt.

“no no no, you should go change and sleep in your bed. don’t stay on the couch,” he said, his voice softer than he intended. inside, his brain was racing — okay, act normal. don’t make this weird. but also, don’t mess it up.

you scrunched your nose, crossing your arms like a kid who just got told to eat their vegetables. “ah, but i don’t wanna get up. it’s warm here,” you complained in that playful, stubborn tone that made sunghoon smile without even realizing it.

he laughed quietly but didn’t back down. instead, he just went over to you, and before you could argue more, he scooped you up effortlessly, just enough to carry you off the couch and start the slow walk to your room. in that moment, his heart was beating way faster than it should, and he caught himself thinking, wow, this is actually kinda nice.

when he laid you gently on your bed, he took a second to adjust the pillow behind your head, smoothing the blanket over you carefully, as if you were something fragile he wanted to protect. he stood there a moment longer, just watching your face, so peaceful now, and it hit him how much he actually cared about you, more than just friends, that was pretty obvious already, but not quite sure how to say that out loud yet.

then, leaning down slowly, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, a quiet little promise that he was there and that you mattered. he pulled back a little and said, “i’m gonna close the door, okay? you change, then go to sleep. if you need anything, just call me.”

as he reached for a blanket on the chair, ready to head back to the couch, his mind was a mess of silly thoughts— is this what people mean by 'caring'? man, why does this feel so complicated? i just want her to be comfortable, but now i’m thinking about how nice it is to be close like this… okay, calm down, sunghoon.

he smiled to himself, shook his head lightly, and settled in for the night on the couch, feeling oddly happy and a little bit hopeless all at once.

the next morning sunghoon woke up with a start, his heart still racing from a half-remembered dream. your place was quiet, but there was something different. something warm and inviting that pulled him out of the couch. as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, a comforting smell drifted toward him: the rich aroma of coffee mixed with the sweet scent of pancakes. curious, he stood up, following the smell to the kitchen.

there you were, standing by the stove in a soft, oversized pajama shirt that looked impossibly cozy. the sight of you moving around the kitchen, focused yet relaxed, hit him with a sudden wave of tenderness he wasn’t ready for. his chest tightened, a gentle ache from the simple, quiet moment unfolding in front of him. you turned and caught him watching, a shy smile spreading across your face. “good morning,” you said softly, the casual warmth in your voice making everything feel right. “i thought i’d make us some breakfast. thanks for taking care of me last night.”

sunghoon’s eyes softened as he stepped closer, his heart swelling with something like pride and affection all tangled together. without thinking, you reached out and wrapped your arms around him in a hug. the scent of your shampoo, fresh and slightly sweet, filled his senses, and for a moment he just held onto you, feeling a calm happiness settle deep inside.

“you’re welcome,” he said quietly, voice low and a little breathless. “i’m just glad you’re okay.”

you pulled back just enough to look up at him, your smile gentle but full of something more, something unspoken. the world outside the kitchen seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in that soft morning light.

so after that morning, sunghoon’s brain basically went on permanent loop mode. and not the cool, chill kind of loop, but the one where your brain is stuck on a hamster wheel powered by a caffeine-addicted squirrel, because he couldn’t stop thinking about you. every little thing reminded him of you: the smell of coffee, the way you smiled, that ridiculous oversized pajama shirt that somehow made you look like both a cozy bear and a secret heartbreaker at the same time.

he started doing these totally unplanned mental movie scenes of you both, like some rom-com that he had zero control over. in his head, there were slow-motion moments, awkward laughs, and a lot of him trying not to trip over his own words — spoiler alert: he always did. and the tragic part was that he knew he was acting like a total dork, but he couldn’t care less. he was deep in the hopeless crush zone, and the sad, funny part was he didn’t even mind being there.

sunghoon even caught himself practicing casual greetings in the mirror, whispering, “hey, what’s up?” but sounding more like, “heyyyy, whassssuuup,” which definitely was not the vibe he wanted to give off.

and sunghoon never really knew how to play the guitar. like, he could barely hold the thing properly without feeling like he was about to break it or accidentally snap a string. but then there was this song, “falling in love” by mcfly, that somehow stuck in his head. it wasn’t even a cool song to brag about knowing, but it had this weird charm, and more importantly, he thought, maybe, just maybe, he could play it for you one day.

so, he went to jay and asked to borrow his guitar. jay raised an eyebrow, clearly expecting sunghoon to give up in like five minutes. but sunghoon was serious, he wanted this. the first few days were pure disaster. his fingers hurt, and every chord change sounded like a dying cat. he fumbled, he muttered swear words under his breath, and jay occasionally peeked in, half-amused, half-worried.

after what felt like forever, with his fingers all raw and sore, he finally managed to play the whole song without collapsing into a coughing fit or breaking a string. victorious but exhausted, he sent you a message: Hey, i learned falling in love on the guitar!

you replied instantly: i want to see you play it someday :)))

sunghoon stared at his phone, heart racing like he’d run a marathon. then, of course, his brain went into overdrive. what if i mess up? what if my fingers slip? what if i sound terrible even after all this practice? but at the same time, there was this tiny spark of excitement that maybe this was a step closer to something more than just friends.

one day, sunghoon was finally doing something with jay that didn’t involve him thinking about you nonstop, which was a true miracle, really. they were just messing around, playing some dumb game on jay’s phone, cracking jokes, and for a moment, sunghoon’s brain was somewhere other than you. then his phone buzzed with that annoying notification again: someone was attacking the pokemon gym right across the street, the one he had claimed like two days ago after a fierce battle.

he glanced at the screen, and sure enough, it was snoopygirl_98, the same mysterious pokémon go player who had been stealing that gym from him every other day. the rivalry was basically legendary in his mind: the fierce battle of sunghoon vs snoopygirl_98. he never actually knew who she was, but he was determined to keep his turf.

without a second thought, sunghoon slipped his phone into his pocket, grabbed his slipper (the one goofy soft slipper he always wore around the house) and said, “jay, hold on. i gotta settle this.” jay just raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue, knowing sunghoon’s competitive streak was about to kick into overdrive. so there he was, tiptoeing out of the apartment, half slipping on the soft slipper but trying to look cool anyway. as he crossed the street, he was already imagining the showdown. “okay, snoopygirl_98,” he whispered, “time to see who’s the real champion.”

as he turned the corner onto the street where the gym always stood, sunghoon was already preparing his battle stance, phone in one hand, thumb poised like a dramatic swordsman, ready to reclaim his gym with the same urgency people usually reserved for, like, national emergencies. he was muttering strategies under his breath, rehearsing which pokémon to use first (always charizard, never blissey — blissey was a coward’s choice) when he noticed a familiar shape a few steps ahead, someone standing by the 7-eleven sign, head tilted down, clearly battling on their phone with the kind of concentration that only came from either playing pokémon go or trying to transfer money while your banking app crashes.

he squinted, slowed down, adjusted his slipper, because something about the silhouette made his brain do that annoying thing where it starts connecting dots he didn’t ask it to connect. the hoodie was oversized. the socks were mismatched. the hair was pulled up the way he always secretly thought looked really good on you even though he never said anything because what kind of guy compliments hair logistics? and then you looked up. and it was you. and sunghoon’s brain just stopped.

you didn’t see him right away, too focused on whatever attack you were tapping out on your screen and for a second, he just stood there, frozen, phone hanging limply in his hand like he'd forgotten what apps were, trying to process the fact that snoopygirl_98 — the elusive enemy who had single-handedly ruined his gym stats for months, the digital nemesis he had cursed under his breath more times than he could count — was you. you. as in, the person who still didn’t know he practiced saying “hi” in the mirror before group hangouts, just in case you were there. the person he may or may not have secretly written a list about titled “things she’s said that made me feel weird in a good way.”

and now here you were, standing across from him, completely unaware, committing virtual violence against his snorlax like it was just another tuesday. because it was, in fact, just another tuesday.

he blinked once, then again, then checked his phone, like maybe the app had glitched, like maybe this was some alternate universe where you just happened to have the exact same username as his sworn digital rival. but there it was: snoopygirl_98. blue team. level 37. the destroyer of dreams and the reason he once rage-deleted the app at 2am and reinstalled it ten minutes later because he couldn’t sleep without knowing if the gym was still his.

and somehow, somehow, it was you.

he didn’t know what to do. he couldn’t just walk up and say “hey, remember that gym you’ve been taking over every night for six months? surprise! it’s me, your accidental pokémon nemesis and also the guy who may or may not be in love with you depending on how much eye contact we’ve made in the last week.” no. absolutely not. he had dignity. barely. but he had it. kind of.

instead, he took a cautious step back like a spy retreating from an unexpected recon mission, trying not to make noise as he slid his slipper against the pavement, which unfortunately made a cartoonish squeak that echoed louder than it should have in the open air. you turned, looked up, and your face lit up the exact way it always did when you saw him, like it was just a nice surprise to run into your friend, like nothing weird was happening, like you weren’t holding his gym hostage right now with a smug-looking vaporeon.

“sunghoon?” you said, smiling, completely normal, as if this wasn’t some betrayal of trust that would go down in pokémon go history forums if he ever decided to tell the story.

he opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again. “hey,” he finally said, voice much higher than usual, like someone had turned the pitch knob on his entire social confidence.

you tilted your head, confused for a second, then pointed at your screen. “you play too?”

and that was it. the unraveling. the full comedic collapse of sunghoon’s internal monologue. because play too? girl. play too? you’ve been personally destroying his soul one blissey at a time and now you were standing there acting like you were new to the whole thing, like you weren’t the blue team villain of his red team nightmares. he wanted to laugh. or cry. or possibly propose. he wasn’t sure anymore.

he forced a smile. “yeah… i dabble.”

you laughed, completely unaware of the hurricane inside his skull. “i’ve been stealing this gym for weeks. i don’t know who keeps taking it back, but it’s kind of my nightly routine now.”

he nodded slowly, like someone who’s just realized they’ve been in a romcom subplot this entire time and everyone forgot to tell them. “yeah. weird. wonder who that could be.”

you grinned. “whoever it is, they’re relentless.”

he blinked. smiled. swallowed the dramatic gasp he wanted to let out. “yeah,” he said again, staring at your phone like it had personally insulted his family. “totally relentless.”

and in that moment, as you turned your attention back to your screen and started strategizing your next move with a seriousness that honestly impressed him, sunghoon realized something that both horrified and thrilled him in equal measure: he didn’t want to win the gym anymore. not tonight. maybe not ever. because losing to you? weirdly… kind of felt like winning.

so the weeks that followed the great snoopygirl_98 2025 revelation were, to sunghoon’s brain, a chaotic montage of unprocessed emotions, late-night gym takeovers, and entirely too many internal monologues that began with “okay but what does it mean” and ended with him staring at the ceiling like always. because now that he knew you were, well, you, he couldn’t un-know it. everything felt different, except literally nothing had changed. you still sent him memes at weird hours. you still texted him “tell me something random” out of nowhere and then rated his answers out of ten. you still walked into rooms like you were casually auditioning for the lead in the sitcom of his life.

and sunghoon, for his part, was trying to be normal. keyword: trying. which mostly meant overthinking every single interaction while nodding like an emotionally competent adult. a simple “hey, what are you doing tonight?” from you became an existential riddle he could only solve through three hours of pacing and a playlist of acoustic sad songs.

he had started categorizing your texts into very serious folders in his brain, like:

folder a: possibly flirty but could be friendly if you squint.

folder b: definitely friendly but still makes his stomach feel weird.

folder c: completely neutral but somehow he read it five times anyway.

folder d: emergency. called him “dude.” instant damage. snorlax lost 400 HP.

and then, as if fate hadn’t already made things complicated enough, you started talking about how i met your mother. at first it was casual. you mentioned you’d been rewatching some episodes and sunghoon, of course, latched on immediately like a drowning man clinging to a life raft labeled shared interests. he texted back something way too enthusiastic, like “WAIT I LOVE THAT SHOW,” and then instantly regretted the all caps but it was too late.

from there, it spiraled in the best possible way. suddenly you were sending each other voice notes about barney’s worst outfits (trick question: barney is always wearing a suit), arguing over whether ted was just misunderstood or annoying (sunghoon was team both), and quoting lines back and forth. and it became a routine, you’d agree on which episodes to watch, then text throughout like you were sitting on opposite ends of the same couch, reacting in real time. and sure, sometimes the timing was off and someone got spoiled by an accidental “OMG LILY JUST SAID THAT” two minutes before the scene actually happened, but it didn’t matter. it was fun. it felt like something, like a shared little world.

and then when you were talking about season two, something about how marshall and lily’s relationship made you feel weirdly emotional in a way you hadn’t expected, and sunghoon had just typed out a Very Deep Message about love and growing up when you interrupted with:

[y/n:] why don’t you just come over and we watch together?

[y/n:] we could watch and order something like real, greasy, perfect food

sunghoon stared at the message like it was a prophecy. he reread it, twice. then a third time, just in case it turned into “actually nvm lol” when he blinked. it didn’t. it stayed there, glowing softly on his screen. and his brain, poor sunghoon’s brain, absolutely exploded.

one part of him went: she invited you over. this is it. this is the crossover episode. but what if it’s just, like, a chill friend hangout? what if she makes you watch the pineapple episode and asks if you relate to ted. and then the final part, the dramatic romantic core of his soul, just whispered: go. wear your good hoodie. the one that doesn’t smell like doritos.

he took a deep breath, typed back something that he hoped sounded effortlessly cool — probably something tragically boring like “Yeah, sounds fun :)” — and then threw his phone across the room like it had personally attacked him with joy.

because yeah, it was happening. he was going to your apartment, again, not for drinking reasons and sleeping at your couch this time, no. you were going to watch how i met your mother together. with food, and possibly blankets. and if the universe was in any way fair, maybe you’d laugh at something he said and nudge his arm and he would not panic.

sunghoon arrived five minutes early, which, for him, was an act of immense restraint considering he’d spent the last twenty debating which snacks made him look more chill. he had one hand clutching a crinkly plastic bag full of sodium and intention, and the other mentally prepared to knock even though you’d already told him, twice, to just come in when he got there. still, he hovered in front of your door for a second, wondering if the zero-calorie soda made him look like someone trying too hard not to care.

you opened the door in a big hoodie and patterned socks, looking like you hadn’t overthought a single thing today, which made him immediately regret every decision he’d made in the past hour, starting with ironing his t-shirt. you glanced at the bag in his hand, raised an eyebrow, and grinned. “you brought the entire snack aisle.”

“i wanted to make sure we don’t need to get up for at least three episodes,” he said, holding it out like a peace offering.

you peeked inside, spotted a rainbow of crunchy nonsense and two sodas, and smiled again, this one softer, and then said, with no sarcasm and no dramatic pause, “that’s actually really cute.”

sunghoon felt the sentence hit somewhere between his ribcage and his ability to behave like a normal human. “cute” wasn’t usually something he processed well. especially not when it came from you, in that tone. he gave a little laugh that wasn’t really a laugh and followed you into the apartment. the living room looked lived-in in the best way. blanket on the couch, half-melted candle on the coffee table, tv already queued up. you tossed a couple of pillows to the floor, sat cross-legged on the couch, and patted the spot next to you with zero hesitation, like this was the most natural thing in the world. he sat, careful not to take up too much space, careful not to do something weird with his hands.

you started the episode, some early season of how i met your mother, and the familiar opening theme filled the room. sunghoon tried to focus on the screen but your knee had already brushed his twice, and you were sitting close enough that he could smell your shampoo, which he refused to think about too long.

you had just grabbed a blanket and casually tossed half of it across his lap like that was completely fine. you shifted your weight, leaning slightly into him, and he told himself it was normal. you were comfortable. this was comfort. comfort wasn’t dangerous. except it kind of was, because now you were sharing a blanket, and the warmth wasn’t just from the polyester.

somewhere around the middle of the episode, you rested your hand on his arm for a second while laughing, just a quick touch, and then didn’t really move it, letting it stay there as you turned to say something about how ted reminded you of a guy you dated in college “but like, if that guy was worse at metaphors.” sunghoon nodded, mostly to cover up the fact that his brain had gone suspiciously quiet, like it was holding its breath.

you shifted again, pulled your legs up, and now your knee was leaning against his in a way that didn’t feel accidental. you didn’t apologize, or move, you just stayed like that, narrating bits of the episode, making comments, stealing a few chips from the bag he’d opened on his lap like you always did, but now it felt different, closer. intentional in a way that made sunghoon’s hands go kind of weird and tingly.

he tried to focus on the episode. really, he did. he watched barney fail another pick-up attempt, watched ted give one of his long-winded love speeches, and watched lily roll her eyes in that way she always did when she knew something before the rest of the group did. and through all of that, you kept your hand on his arm. and sometimes, your thumb moved slightly, like it was drawing little circles. he couldn’t tell if that was on purpose, and he wasn’t about to ask.

“ted tries too hard,” you said eventually, still watching the screen. “like… if he just stopped declaring things every five minutes, he’d probably be fine.”

“yeah,” sunghoon said, trying not to think too hard about how many things he’d rehearsed in the mirror just in case you ever brought up relationships. “relatable.”

you laughed lightly, looked at him sideways. “you’re not like ted, though.”

“is that a good thing?”

“it’s a good thing,” you said. and then, just like that, you leaned your head against his shoulder. not in rom-com way. just a quiet shift, like it made sense.

sunghoon blinked at the tv, which he now couldn’t see properly because your head was in the way, and decided that was perfectly fine. he didn’t need to see the episode. he’d seen it before anyway. probably twice, maybe three times. and you didn’t say anything after that, and he didn’t either. you stayed there, quiet but not awkward, and the blanket warmed up between you. he was very aware of how still he was sitting, as if moving even slightly would ruin the balance of the moment. your hand slipped down from his arm and onto his knee, not like a grand romantic gesture, more like you forgot where your hand was supposed to go and decided it was his knee now. he didn’t know what to do with that. so he let it be.

when the episode ended, you didn’t move right away. the next one auto-started, the theme song rolling in again, and you let out a soft hum, like maybe you were thinking, or maybe you were just full of snacks.

then you said, not looking at him, “we should make this our thing.”

sunghoon turned his head slightly. “what thing?”

“this,” you said. “watching how i met your mother together.”

he nodded slowly, trying not to seem too eager. “yeah. i’m good with that.”

you finally looked at him, that same easy smile on your face, and then you bumped his knee with yours, not hard, just enough to make sure he was still paying attention. he smiled back, heart doing things he would later try to explain to jay using weird metaphors involving elevators and jelly beans. and just like that, he knew he wasn’t imagining things anymore. or maybe he still was. but either way, it felt kind of real. real enough to sit quietly and let the next episode start, your head on his shoulder, your hand on his knee, and the thought in his head that maybe, finally, this wasn’t just another almost.

after that first night, watching how i met your mother together became a thing, not officially, not scheduled, not even discussed really, but it kept happening. every couple of days, one of you would text and the other would know exactly what it meant. snacks were expected, drinks too, sometimes takeout, sometimes just popcorn and half a leftover soda, but always the same couch, always the same routine.

it didn’t start out that physical, but over time, the way you sat next to each other got… closer. more relaxed. you got comfortable first, you always did. you’d throw your legs across his lap like it meant nothing, lean your head on his shoulder when you were too lazy to sit straight, or curl into his side like it was the most natural place to be. and sunghoon would freeze every time, nod like he was fine, then immediately go into full internal system reboot. he’d sit there pretending to be unaffected, nodding at the tv with the intensity of someone watching a government briefing, while you poked his knee or played with the drawstring of his hoodie like it was just a fidget toy. and he never stopped you. not once. not even when you fell asleep on his arm and drooled slightly on his hoodie sleeve. (he washed it the next day but also kind of wanted to keep it that way. he didn't tell anyone that.)

you were always the one to touch first. he was always the one to overthink it. but then one night, it was raining a little outside, and the apartment was warm, and you'd made tea for both of you for some reason, even though neither of you usually drank tea during sitcom reruns. the lights were low, the episode was one of those emotional ones where ted was being dramatic about someone leaving, and you were curled up right next to him, knee pressed to his thigh, blanket half over your lap and half over his. you looked like you might fall asleep again, but you weren’t. you were just quiet and calm, and sunghoon, in a moment of bravery that he didn’t plan and definitely didn’t rehearse, lifted his arm and rested it around your shoulders, not awkwardly, not halfway, but all the way around. solid, like he meant it.

you didn’t react for a second, then shifted under his arm and leaned your head onto his chest without saying anything. you didn’t joke, you didn’t make it weird. you just rested there like you’d been waiting for him to do that for a while. because, well, you were.

he stared at the tv, heart going approximately 800 beats per minute, trying very hard not to mess anything up by existing too loudly.

“this is comfortable,” you mumbled after a moment, voice low.

“yeah,” he said, somehow managing to sound calm even though his brain was short-circuiting. “you have a surprisingly heavy head, by the way.”

you snorted. “excuse me?”

“it’s not an insult,” he said, trying not to laugh. “it’s just. structurally. very dense.”

“maybe it’s full of all the times you’ve secretly checked me out and thought i didn’t notice.”

he blinked. actually blinked. then coughed, because his throat forgot how to function. “what— i— that’s—”

you laughed. you were clearly not taking it that seriously. you were just being you, casually flirty in a way that felt like breathing. and he could have just let it go, he could’ve rolled his eyes and changed the subject and moved on like he always did. but for some reason, this time, he didn’t.

“if i was checking you out,” he said, still looking at the screen, “i wouldn’t do it secretly.”

you looked up at him a little, one eyebrow raised, that half-smile forming on your face, the one you used when you caught him saying something he clearly hadn’t meant to say out loud. “oh?” you said. simple and amused. a bit dangerous.

sunghoon realized what he’d just said about five seconds too late, and he wanted to disappear into the couch, but it was too late now. the sentence was out there, floating in the air. you didn’t say anything for a moment. just shifted again, a little closer this time, your arm settling across his stomach casually, like this was fine, like this was good, and maybe it was. he didn’t say anything else. neither did you. the episode kept playing.

but the energy had shifted just slightly, like something had tilted in the right direction. and for once, sunghoon didn’t try to fix it or overthink it or joke it away. he just sat there, with your head on his chest, your arm across him, and the feeling that maybe, somehow, he’d just started something without even meaning to. and the best part was that you didn’t seem to mind at all.

and it was after that night on the couch that sunghoon started getting a little braver. not confident movie character braver, just small steps. like brushing your hair out of your face without immediately apologizing for it. or letting his hand stay on your knee when you sat close. or making comments that maybe sounded flirty but were delivered in such a deadpan voice that it took you a second to realize he was being serious.

he started leaning in more when you talked. he started answering your texts faster without pretending to wait five minutes like he used to. he made playlists and shared them without labeling them something obvious like songs that make me think of your face (he wanted to, but he didn’t). he was still himself, still sunghoon, still deeply confused most of the time, but there was something about that night that made him feel like maybe you wouldn’t run if he actually tried.

a few weeks later, there was a night out. the bar under the apartment again. the usual crew, some people from college, a couple new friends no one really remembered inviting. sunghoon had no idea what they were celebrating. he asked twice. jay said something about a work promotion, jake said it was just friday, and someone else said it was heeseung’s cousin’s birthday. none of it felt convincing.

but it didn’t matter. everyone was drinking, someone had ordered two baskets of fries “for the table,” and you were sitting next to sunghoon, laughing at something he’d said that wasn’t even a joke, and your hand was on his thigh like it belonged there. and sunghoon, for once, didn’t freeze. he leaned toward you, nudged your shoulder with his, and made some dumb comment about the song playing, but you laughed anyway, then leaned your head briefly on his shoulder and left it there just long enough to make his brain forget how to function for a bit.

everyone else was shouting over each other. jay was trying to convince jake to join him in some tequila shot competition that wasn’t a real thing. jungwon was filming something on his phone that would definitely not make sense in the morning. and sunghoon was sitting there thinking about how your fingers kept tracing circles on his knee, very casually, very slowly, like you weren’t even thinking about it.

and then (of course, because the universe has a sense of humor), some guy appeared, tall. friendly-looking, clearly a few drinks in. not part of your group. he walked up and said something to you. sunghoon didn’t catch the first part, just the tone: the slightly too smooth, trying-too-hard kind of tone. you laughed politely, the way people do when they’re trying not to encourage. the guy leaned in closer, asked your name. said something else that sunghoon couldn’t fully hear but saw you shift a little in response. and something in his stomach tightened.

he wasn’t mad. he wasn’t even surprised. people liked you, obviously. you were warm and funny and way too pretty for him to be sitting next to you in the first place. it wasn’t the guy’s fault, he didn’t know anything. sunghoon should’ve done this months ago, if he had the courage to do it. still, he went quiet. he looked down at his drink, then at you, then back at the guy. he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to do something. you weren’t his, there were no rules.

the guy kept talking. not aggressive, just persistent. you were still smiling, but it looked tighter now. less amused, more tired. and then, suddenly, you turned slightly, reached over, and rested your hand on sunghoon’s arm.

“hey,” you said, looking right at the guy. “sorry, my boyfriend gets kinda jealous.”

and you said it so calmly, so casually. like it was the truth. like this was normal. like sunghoon was your boyfriend and not just the guy who once forgot how to speak when you tied your hair up in front of him. the guy blinked, looked at sunghoon, who was now frozen mid-sip of his drink, cup halfway to his mouth.

sunghoon nodded once. not too fast, just enough to sell it. “yeah,” he said, voice steady. “super jealous. very possessive. not proud of it.”

you gave him the smallest side glance, clearly trying not to laugh, and squeezed his arm like you’re doing great, keep going, oscar-worthy stuff. the guy held up his hands like no worries, totally cool, and backed off without drama. he disappeared into the crowd.

the second he was gone, you looked at sunghoon and grinned. “thanks for playing along.”

he blinked. “yeah. of course.”

“you did the jealous boyfriend voice really well.”

“it’s just my regular voice,” he muttered, eyes still on his drink.

you leaned your chin on his shoulder for a second. “maybe you should use it more often.”

he didn’t say anything. mostly because his entire internal system was shutting down again. but this time, he wasn’t panicking, not really. his heart was definitely doing some weird rhythmic gymnastics and his brain had already started drafting a completely unnecessary analysis titled "what does it mean when she fake-calls you her boyfriend but then also holds your arm and looks at you like that," but he wasn’t spiraling. not in the usual sense.

so he just sat there, letting the noise of the bar blur around him, while you sipped the rest of your drink like nothing happened. and maybe for you, nothing had. maybe it was just a line, a joke. a way to get rid of an annoying guy without a scene. or maybe it was something else. something between the lines. something you weren’t saying out loud yet either.

“i want a terrible burger,” you said suddenly, finishing the last of your soda and setting the cup down with dramatic finality. “like, a bad one. like, i want to regret it in the morning.”

sunghoon blinked, pulled back into reality. “what, like… fast food bad?”

“exactly,” you said, eyes lighting up. “like wendy’s. i want to see a sad lettuce leaf in my sandwich.”

he snorted. “that’s oddly specific.”

you stood up and grabbed your jacket. “come on, boyfriend. let’s go to wendy’s.”

he didn’t correct you. he just followed you out, tossing a quick goodbye to the group still half-yelling about tequila, and stepped into the night air that felt colder than it should’ve after all that body heat and bar lighting. you walked a few blocks, mostly in silence, still a little buzzed but in that sleepy, satisfied way that made everything feel slower. then, right as you were crossing an empty street, you reached out and grabbed his hand. not in a performative way, you just took it, like it was there and you felt like holding it. like you remembered the fake-boyfriend story and decided to keep the bit going. or maybe not, maybe you just wanted to.

“you’re doing great, by the way,” you said, fingers laced through his like it meant nothing. “very convincing. the protective arm thing? ten out of ten.”

he glanced down at your hands still together. he nodded slowly. “i studied for the role.”

you grinned. “you’re a natural.”

he tried not to think too hard about it, but of course he did anyway. because holding hands wasn’t a big deal. except it was, except it was a big deal when it was you. but he kept walking next to you, hand in hand, and his brain just quietly melted. you were still holding his hand. you pointed at the wendy’s sign ahead like it was a beacon of hope. “we feast,” you declared.

he laughed under his breath, mostly because he didn’t know what else to do with all the emotions bouncing around in his chest. he didn’t know where this was going, he didn’t know what this meant. but he knew he wanted more of this — your hand, your jokes, your version of terrible food decisions. and maybe that was enough for now.

the wendy’s was almost empty, just a sleepy guy mopping the floor in the corner and a cashier humming quietly behind the counter. you walked straight to the self-ordering kiosk with the confidence of someone who had done this many times before, tapping the screen. sunghoon stood behind you, close enough that he could read the menu too, but mostly because the screen was small and the space was narrow. it wasn’t like he planned it, he just stepped forward once and then didn’t step back.

you didn’t seem to mind. you were scrolling through the combo options, talking to yourself. “okay, nuggets are too risky. fries, obviously. double cheeseburger, or do you want the one with the weird barbecue sauce again?” you didn’t turn around, just asked, still facing the screen, “what do you want?”

and he wasn’t thinking. not in a conscious way. he was just staring at the back of your head, at the way your shirt was falling off one shoulder slightly, at how close you were, at how warm his chest felt from where you were just standing in front of it like it was nothing.

so he said it. like it wasn’t anything at all.

“you.”

you laughed immediately. the kind of laugh that came out of your nose and mouth at the same time, short and surprised and familiar. you kept tapping the screen like you hadn’t heard him properly, or like he was joking. but sunghoon didn’t laugh, he didn’t say anything else. and you paused.

you turned around slowly, still half-grinning, clearly ready to tease him, but then you looked up and saw that he wasn’t grinning back. he was just looking down at you, like this wasn’t a joke. like he didn’t care that it was happening next to a laminated poster of a frosty.

and something in your expression shifted too. the smile faded, but not in a bad way, just softened, slowed down. like whatever you’d been holding back was now impossible to keep behind the usual banter. so you stared at him for a second, head tilted slightly, like you were trying to decide if you were allowed to do what you were about to do.

and then you did it anyway. you reached up, grabbed the front of his hoodie, and pulled him down toward you. not roughly, not urgently, just with purpose, and he didn’t hesitate, didn’t question it, didn’t even breathe before his mouth was on yours.

he didn’t stop to think about it, didn’t hesitate, didn’t calculate angles or worry about logistics, which was rare for him. he just moved. his heart was doing something that felt like a cross between a drum solo and a panic attack. he could feel the heat rising up the back of his neck, which was annoying because that always happened when he was nervous, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it now because your face was right there and your lips were already on his and he was kissing you.

he was kissing you. okay. okay. this was happening.

his first thought was that your lips were soft, which was so cliché and unoriginal he immediately scolded himself internally, but then he had no time to think of anything better because your hands were still on his hoodie, still holding him close, and his own hands had instinctively gone to your waist and stayed there like they knew what to do even though his brain absolutely did not.

it was warm. not just physically, but in that weird way where everything around him felt quiet all of a sudden, even though there was still the distant hum of the soda machine and the soft squeak of the mop across the tile floor. the kiss wasn’t perfect, his nose got in the way a little. he turned his head too far at first and had to readjust, which made him silently panic for a second like wait did i ruin it did she notice oh my god i bumped her tooth, but you didn’t pull back, you just leaned in more.

your mouth tasted like sprite and some other food vaguely artificial and it should’ve been gross but somehow it wasn’t. somehow it just felt real and simple. like this was something you did, apparently. kissed each other now. this was now part of the routine.

his hands gripped your sides gently like he was making sure you didn’t vanish. he didn’t know how long the kiss lasted. three seconds? ten? a full minute? he couldn’t tell. time had stopped cooperating with him. all he knew was that you were kissing him like you meant it, like this wasn’t an accident or a joke or a weird side quest in a long friendship. like this was on purpose.

his brain tried to catch up the entire time. there were at least four full thoughts bouncing around at once, all useless:

1. what if this is a dream and i wake up and i’m still on the couch with chips on my chest.

2. i don’t know what to do with my thumbs. why do thumbs exist?

3. i can’t believe she just kissed me next to a wendy’s totem.

4. i don’t want this to stop.

and then, eventually, it did stop.

you pulled back just slightly, enough to breathe, enough to look up at him. but you didn’t move away. you stayed close, like you weren’t done, like you just needed a second. so he stood there, hands still on your waist, completely unsure of what his face was doing. his mouth might’ve been slightly open, he didn’t know. his thoughts were still lagging a full minute behind his body.

you looked at him and said, “so that’s how we’re doing this now.”

his brain was still stuck on the kiss, but he blinked, nodded once, and somehow said, “apparently.” you tilted your head just a little, searching his face for something, and he realized he probably looked like a deer that had wandered into traffic and liked it. he cleared his throat, but his voice still came out low and uneven when he said, “i’m not complaining.”

you exhaled slowly, and then you smiled again, this time real and unguarded and a little too big. “first kiss next to a wendy’s kiosk. this is what dreams are made of.”

“honestly,” he said, “it’s probably the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to me in a fast food place.”

you laughed, resting your forehead briefly against his chest. “mine too. tragically.”

he rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly shy again, but it wasn’t the bad kind of shy. it was the kind that made him want to say things he’d been sitting on for weeks. “so,” he started, “there’s something else i should probably admit.”

you looked up. “okay?”

he hesitated. “you know that gym across my street? the one you’ve been defending for months?”

you narrowed your eyes. “yeah…”

he cleared his throat. “so. uh. i was the one taking it back every time. team valor. red guy with the dragonite.”

your mouth dropped open slightly. “you’re shadyhoon420?”

he winced. “in my defense, i made that username in like 2018. it was funny then.”

“it’s still funny now,” you said, shaking your head. “i thought shadyhoon420 was some twelve-year-old with too much free time.”

“nope,” he said. “twenty-something with unresolved competitive issues.”

you laughed again, full-body this time, like you couldn’t believe it. “you were trolling me for months.”

“i was trying to win,” he said. “you were annoyingly good.”

“you were annoying in general.”

“and yet here we are,” he said, glancing down at you, still tucked into his chest. “making out in a wendy’s.”

you rolled your eyes, but not in the real way. more like you were trying not to grin again. your hands were still holding onto the front of his hoodie, like letting go didn’t feel necessary yet. and he didn’t want you to. his hands hadn’t moved either, they were still resting on your waist, warm and steady, like his body knew what his brain was still trying to accept, that this wasn’t hypothetical anymore, it was real. it had happened. you kissed him, and he kissed you back.

he didn’t say anything else right away. not because he didn’t have anything to say, but because he was still sorting through the fact that for weeks, maybe longer, he’d been inching closer to you in little ways — a leg under the blanket, a hand brushing yours, a text that was maybe too honest — and now suddenly there was no more guessing. you’d pulled him in. you kissed him. you’d looked him in the face like you were just as tired of waiting.

and somehow it wasn’t weird, it wasn’t awkward. it didn’t feel like something they’d both laugh off tomorrow and pretend didn’t happen. it felt like something that had been quietly building in the background, so slowly neither of them had wanted to be the one to name it out loud, until you just did.

and now he was standing there, still in your arms, still close enough to feel the warmth of your breath on his neck, realizing that something had already started. not five minutes ago. not in the middle of the kiss, but way earlier. maybe on that first night on the couch. maybe the first time you texted him about something dumb at 2 a.m. or maybe the first time you knocked his leg with yours and didn’t move it away. and whatever it was, it wasn’t a maybe anymore.

and honestly, standing there in front of a glowing touchscreen that still said “order now” in giant, red font, that felt exactly right. because of course it would be like this, not planned, not perfect. just stupidly casual and somehow kind of perfect anyway.

you pulled away first, but only a little, and said, “okay, romantic moment over. i’m starving.”

“yeah,” sunghoon said, blinking back into functionality. “same.”

you turned back to the kiosk, finally placing the order, laughing again when he insisted on extra fries “because i feel emotionally vulnerable and carbs help.” you didn’t make fun of him. you just nodded like, yeah, that tracks. and when the food came out, you grabbed the tray and headed to the corner booth, the one you two always sat in when the place was empty, which it still was. it felt like your booth now, like it had seen things, like it knew too much.

you sat down first, immediately curling one leg under yourself and holding the burger with two hands like it was sacred. sunghoon sat next to you, not across, not leaving space, but right beside you like always, except this time, his arm went around your shoulders the second he sat down, no hesitation, no awkward pause. and you didn’t just lean into him like before. you really leaned.

your head dropped to his shoulder for a second before you took your first bite, and he felt your whole body relax against his like this was exactly where you wanted to be, and it wasn’t like before. it wasn’t just a friendly lean or a casual touch, it was closer. it felt like something that had been waiting to happen and now finally had.

you both ate in silence for a minute, the kind of silence that wasn’t empty. it was full of whatever this new thing was between you. you passed fries back and forth like it was muscle memory. he picked the pickles off your sandwich without being asked. you stole his soda without warning. and he didn’t flinch when your hand found his leg under the table and stayed there. you’d done this before. sat like this, shared food, leaned into each other, stayed late until the lights started flickering. but tonight it felt different, for very kissy obvious reasons.

sunghoon looked over at you once, mid-bite, and you caught him staring. you smiled with your mouth full and said, “don’t get all sappy on me.”

he shrugged. “too late.”

you shook your head and leaned into him again, chewing quietly, like it was no big deal. but he knew it was, and he knew this was only the beginning. and he also knew — later, when you were walking home and holding hands again like it was completely natural — that he was fully, entirely, probably hopelessly into you. and he wasn’t trying to hide it anymore.

the weeks after that night at wendy’s were weird in the least dramatic way possible. nothing major changed. you were still texting dumb questions to each other and you were still stealing his fries like they were community property. but now you kissed him, now he could hold your hand without pretending he was reaching for something else. now he could rest his chin on top of your head when you were sitting on the couch and no one would say anything sarcastic about it. it was new, but it also felt like it had already been there the whole time, just waiting for someone to label it.

sunghoon had fully expected to be awkward about it. and to be fair, sometimes he was. he still got weirdly quiet when you called him “babe” for the first time, and he once accidentally called you “dude” right after kissing you and spent the next two hours apologizing. but mostly, things were good, comfortable and fun.

you started doing more couple-y stuff without needing to make it A Thing. you grocery shopped together, you did laundry at the same time, folded each other’s hoodies like an old married couple, and argued over the right way to hang dry t-shirts. you went to a mini golf place that was weirdly intense about rules, and sunghoon realized you were more competitive than him, which was saying something.

he started to show you more of the things he usually kept to himself. like his half-written playlist ideas. like the folder of blurry phone videos he took of you without meaning to. like the fact that he still had a high score on fruit ninja and was proud of it. and one night, after you’d been watching some random youtube rabbit hole of early 2000s pop rock videos and you said, “ugh i forgot how much i loved mcfly,” sunghoon sat there in silence for a second before quietly saying, “i need to play falling in love for you.”

he played it slowly, a little shakily. he forgot a chord halfway through and mumbled something that wasn’t a word, but you didn’t laugh. you didn’t make fun of him. you just sat there listening like it was your favorite thing he’d ever done. and when he finished, you kissed his cheek and said, “you’re disgusting. i love it.”

after that, he stopped holding back so much. he let himself be more flirty, more open, more ridiculous. and to his surprise, you were just as bad, maybe worse. you texted him things like “miss ur dumb face” even if you’d seen him three hours ago. you’d randomly send voice notes where you just said “hi” in different tones and asked him to rate them.

and that’s when sunghoon realized something big: you were just as emotionally reckless as him.

you made plans too early. you got soft too fast. you saved pictures of things that reminded you of him and showed them later like it was nothing. and he was so used to being the one who caught feelings first that it completely broke his brain a little. so he started noticing it in small things. like how you’d always scoot closer to him even if there was already zero space left on the couch. or how you remembered random things he said in passing and brought them up a week later like they were important. or how your entire face changed when he walked into a room, even if you were pretending to be cool about it.

and then one night, when you were sitting cross-legged on the floor of his apartment, he blurted something out without meaning to. “did you and heeseung ever date?”

you looked up, blinked. “what?”

“i mean,” he said quickly, “not that it matters now. i just. i always kinda thought there was something there. like before.” you chewed slowly, still staring at him. “like,” he continued, clearly panicking now, “not in a jealous way. i just thought maybe you two had a thing. the way you talked. i don’t know. i used to overthink it. a lot. i almost stopped talking to you once because of it. which is dumb. very dumb.”

you swallowed, still looking at him like he’d just admitted he once ate a shoe. then you said, “sunghoon. heeseung and i bonded over the fact that we both had a crush on the same person.”

he blinked. “wait. what?”

“it was you.” he stared at you, spoon halfway to his mouth, not moving. “i’m kidding,” you said, snorting. “he had a crush on someone else. i just liked you. he used to give me pep talks about it.”

sunghoon’s brain did not know what to do with that information. “so… you liked me back then?”

“yeah,” you said, chewing again. “obviously.”

he was quiet for a long second. then: “cool.”

you smiled at him, mouth full, and kicked his foot under the table. he kicked you back. and that was that.

the first time you and sunghoon went out with everyone again, it was a thursday night. which already made it feel less official, like no one could accuse anyone of being too romantic if it was a weeknight. you and sunghoon had been in your thing for a few weeks now, whatever it was. there still wasn’t a label. no one had said “we’re dating” or “we’re together.”

but he kissed you when he saw you. he held your hand while you scrolled through takeout menus. he stayed up late with you watching videos of frogs in tiny hats. you were his. i mean, probably. almost definitely. he just hadn’t said it out loud yet and neither had you. and now, somehow, you were going to a bar together like that wasn’t the most emotionally dangerous setting in the world.

sunghoon wasn’t nervous, exactly. but he also had no idea how he was supposed to act. was he supposed to sit next to you or leave a one-person buffer zone? was he allowed to have a hand on your back when you walked in, or was that too much? could he kiss your cheek in public? would that be weird? was not doing it weirder?

you, of course, didn’t seem to be thinking about any of this. you wore that skirt he liked. you stole one of his rings before you left the apartment and didn’t even say anything about it. you walked next to him like nothing was different. and for you, maybe it wasn’t. maybe this was all normal. maybe you were normal. sunghoon, meanwhile, was just trying not to look suspicious.

they got there a little late. jay and jungwon were already posted up at the booth like they'd been born there. jake was at the bar talking to someone who may or may not have been his date, or just someone he was bothering. heeseung was somewhere, probably emotionally observing the room from the shadows like he always did. and as soon as sunghoon and you walked in together, everyone looked up. they all did the same thing: that casual glance, followed by the silent smirk, followed by the overly casual “oh hey, you made it” that clearly meant oh hey, we know what’s going on here.

sunghoon didn’t react, just nodded once, tried to be cool. completely missed the chair when he went to sit down and had to pretend he meant to lean sideways.

jay knew. of course jay knew. jay had known before sunghoon even knew. jungwon knew because jay knew. jake knew because heeseung knew, and heeseung knew because heeseung knew everything. and now all of them knew. all of them were being polite about it, but they knew. the only people who didn’t know that everyone knew were you and sunghoon.

you sat next to him, thigh against his, arm slung casually over the back of the booth, like it was no big deal. like you did this all the time. and maybe you did, now. maybe this was your thing. but sunghoon still didn’t know where to put his hand. he settled for resting it on his leg, then moved it, then put it back. he wanted to put his arm around you. he just didn’t want to make it A Thing.

jay raised an eyebrow across the table, very subtle. sunghoon glared at him. you leaned over and whispered something about the drinks being overpriced and then rested your head against his shoulder for half a second like it was nothing. sunghoon felt every cell in his body shift three degrees to the left. he didn’t even hear what jay was saying. he was too busy pretending to be normal. jungwon looked like he wanted to say something. jake looked like he was writing fanfiction in his head.

someone made a toast. someone spilled something. someone brought fries to the table and you immediately took three and fed one to sunghoon without thinking about it, and that’s when he saw the look on jake’s face. pure glee. jake mouthed awww like a traitor. sunghoon blinked and looked at you. looked at the group and realized: they all knew. they were all just pretending not to know.

he looked down at his fry, chewed slowly. whispered, “we’re not being subtle, are we.”

you looked at him, smiled, and said, “do you want to be?”

he blinked again. “not really.”

you leaned in and kissed his cheek. sunghoon thought he might combust, but in a good way. and across the table, jay, jungwon, and jake all gave each other the most painfully smug looks sunghoon had ever seen. it didn’t matter, he didn’t care. you were still close, your hand was in his lap now. you were talking to heeseung like nothing was happening. sunghoon was still alive (probably). and whatever this thing was between you two, it wasn’t labeled yet. but it was something, and maybe that was enough for now.

you left the bar a little past midnight, not totally sober but not out of it either, that sweet spot where everything was a little funnier and a little louder and no one was ready to admit they were already tired. it wasn’t freezing out, but you still tugged on sunghoon’s sleeve like your arms didn’t work and said, “i’m cold. fix it.” so he handed you his jacket without hesitation, which you immediately put on and did not zip up, because apparently the rules of temperature didn’t apply to you. the sleeves covered your hands and the shoulders were too big and you looked stupidly good in it, which made sunghoon feel something deep in his chest he chose not to name.

you walked in silence for a few steps, close but not touching, until you bumped your hand into his once, twice, and then just took it like it was yours. which, at this point, it basically was. “so,” you said, casual, like you hadn’t already been curled up next to him in a booth for the last three hours, “you wanna come over?”

sunghoon blinked. “like… now?”

you raised an eyebrow. “no, next tuesday.”

he blinked again, because his brain had chosen violence and was now playing a full powerpoint presentation of possible meanings behind that sentence. he was trying very hard to be normal, to just smile and nod and say something charming, but instead he said, “uh-huh. okay. sure. i mean, unless you were just being polite and i—”

“sunghoon.”

“yep.”

“do you wanna come over?”

he nodded, fast. “yeah. yes. definitely.”

you grinned like you knew exactly what he was doing: spiraling, overanalyzing, trying to decide if “come over” meant snacks and a rerun or if it meant come over come over.

your place was a ten-minute walk, but it felt like thirty-five because sunghoon’s brain would not shut up. he wasn’t panicking, not really, but he also couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that this wasn’t just another hangout. something about the way you asked felt different. something about the way your hand kept tightening around his, like you were already thinking about where it would be once you got upstairs.

by the time you were at your door, you were still holding his hand and sunghoon’s heart was going fast enough that he had to pretend he wasn’t out of breath just from standing there. you unlocked the door and looked at him over your shoulder. “you coming in or are you just gonna stand there looking like you’re being peer pressured by a ghost.”

he stepped inside. “i’ve never been peer pressured by a ghost, for the record.”

you tossed your keys on the counter and kicked off your shoes. “there’s a first time for everything.”

he toed off his sneakers slower, trying to figure out where to stand, what to say, how to breathe like a functioning adult. you pulled off his jacket, handed it back to him, and then did that thing where you walked past him, brushing your hand across his lower back like it didn’t mean anything, even though it absolutely did.

he stared at the floor. then at the fridge. then at you, who was now grabbing two glasses and saying something about trying a new wine that tasted like “grape juice with peach” and he had no idea what it meant or what to do with his hands, or his mouth, or his entire existence. because the truth was: he liked you. he really really really liked you. and he’d been pretending not to want more, not to think about what it’d be like to stay over, to fall asleep next to you and wake up next to you and maybe never go home again. he’d been pretending it was casual. because pretending was safer, pretending didn’t risk messing anything up.

and now here you were, in your apartment, handing him a glass of bad wine and looking at him like you were waiting to see if he’d finally catch up. “you okay?” you asked, leaning against the counter, glass in hand, looking a little too pretty for someone under yellow kitchen lighting.

he cleared his throat. “me? yeah. totally fine. great. really calm.”

you tilted your head. “you sure?”

“yep.”

you walked over slowly, standing in front of him now, wine still in one hand, the other reaching up to brush the hair off his forehead. “you’re freaking out.”

“i’m not,” he said, eyes wide.

“you are.”

“i’m— okay, i’m slightly freaking out.”

you smiled and leaned in, close enough that your breath hit his neck. “wanna know a secret?”

“always,” he said, voice lower than he meant it to be, because everything about this moment was doing something strange to his brain.

you leaned in just a little more, like you were going to whisper something, and he instinctively tilted his head toward you, breath caught, waiting. “i’ve been thinking about kissing you all night,” you said, soft but direct, like you were telling him something about the weather. “like, not just kissing. you know.”

sunghoon froze for a second. not cartoon-style. just momentarily lost control of every muscle in his body. his first instinct was to deflect, make a joke, say something stupid. throw himself out the window, maybe. but he didn’t, not this time. because his second instinct — the real one, the one under all the fake calm — was to kiss you right now. fully and properly, like he hadn’t been holding back for weeks.

you raised an eyebrow, watching him short-circuit, and said, “too much?”

he shook his head. “no. i just. wow. okay.”

“you okay?” you asked again, but this time there was a small smile on your lips, and it was very clear you knew the answer.

he nodded. “yeah. i just wasn’t ready to hear that sentence. and now it’s all i’m hearing.”

you laughed a little and stepped even closer, your body brushing up against his. “do you want me to say it again?”

he swallowed hard. “maybe later.”

you bit your lip, not in a calculated way, just like it was a reflex, and something about that made something snap a little inside him. he set his glass down on the counter, gently, like he needed both hands for whatever was about to happen. then he looked at you and said, “i don’t really want to keep pretending i’m not into you in a completely embarrassing way.”

“good,” you said, fingers grazing the hem of his shirt now, slow, testing. “because i was getting kinda tired of pretending not to notice.”

he leaned in finally, mouth close to yours but not quite there yet, and asked, “so we’re not pretending anymore?”

“nah,” you whispered. “let’s be very real.”

and that’s when he kissed you. not like before, not soft or quick or questioning. this one was different. his hands were on your waist, pulling you in like he was done pretending you weren’t all he’d been thinking about. your hands slid up his chest and curled behind his neck, like you were grounding yourself. like you’d been waiting for this, too.

at some point, you mumbled something against his mouth — maybe his name, maybe just a sound — and he breathed out a quiet “god, you make me crazy” before he could even think about it.

you pulled back just slightly, eyes a little dazed, and said, “you’re gonna say stuff like that and then expect me to behave?”

“no,” he said, already leaning in again. “definitely not.”

you were backing him toward the hallway now, hand still tangled in his hair, mouth still on his, and every nerve in his body was firing off in every direction at once, but none of it felt panicked anymore. it just felt like finally. like this was where all of it had been leading: the late nights, the inside jokes, the pretending-not-to-care casual touches that had never really been casual at all.

sunghoon's back bumped softly into the wall and he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. your body was pressed to his now, fully, and your mouth moved down to his jaw, then to the side of his neck, slow and unhurried, like you were trying to memorize the way he felt. his hands were on your waist, thumbs sliding under the hem of your shirt without meaning to, like they’d decided on their own that they wanted more. and the thing was, so did he. he wanted more. not just physically, though that was part of it. but everything, all of it. the way you looked at him like he was worth undivided attention, the way you touched him like you weren’t scared of what it meant, the way you weren’t hesitating now.

he had no idea what he was doing, not really. but it didn’t matter, not with the way your fingers had found their way under his shirt now too, trailing up his ribs like you were checking if he was real. he was starting to think he wasn’t. you leaned back just enough to look at him, your face close, breathing uneven. “you good?” you asked, voice low, teasing, but still somehow gentle.

he nodded, barely. “yeah. i just…” you waited, eyes flicking to his lips again, like you already knew what he was about to say. “i really want you,” he said, quiet but steady, “and i’m trying not to freak out about it.”

you smiled, something softer now, less teasing, and leaned in again, your mouth brushing his as you said, “then don’t.”

and he didn’t. he kissed you again, deeper this time, one hand sliding up your back, the other staying low on your waist, anchoring you to him. you pulled him away from the wall slowly, guiding him back toward your room with nothing but your body pressed into his and the way you kissed him like you’d been waiting just as long. his hands were shaking a little, but not in a bad way. in the way that came from finally letting go of all the restraint he didn’t even realize he’d been carrying.

you turned around once, just before stepping through the door, and looked at him, not playful this time, not challenging, just full of whatever this was between you. then you pulled him in by the front of his shirt, and he followed, heart pounding, completely undone by how easy it felt to say yes to you.

he followed you into the room, one of his hands went straight to your waist, pulling you in again, and the other slid into your hair like he was finally done pretending he didn’t want to touch you like this. you looked up at him, mouth parted, breathing a little uneven now, like maybe you weren’t expecting him to get like this, not this sure of himself. “you okay?” he asked, echoing your earlier words, voice low now and just barely smug. “you’re looking a little... distracted.”

you blinked at him, caught off guard for half a second. “you think you’re funny now?”

“no,” he said, fingers slipping under the back of your shirt as he leaned in, “i think i’m winning.”

you didn’t say anything. just kissed him again, rougher this time, like you were challenging him to keep up, and he did. he moved with you, pressed into you, kissed you back like he finally knew he could. he walked you backward without breaking the kiss, hands firm on your waist, pushing you gently until your legs hit the edge of the bed. you sat first, pulling him down with you, and he smiled against your mouth as you tugged at his shirt like you were losing patience.

“you’ve been thinking about this too, huh?” he murmured against your throat, voice dark and teasing, lips brushing that spot right under your jaw that made your knees weak. you didn’t answer, just mouthed at his neck in retaliation. he chuckled. “yeah,” he whispered. “me too. been losing my mind over you.”

“shut up,” you said, though your hands were already sliding under the hem of his shirt.

“make me,” he said, and you actually laughed, this breathless, surprised sound that turned into a half-moan when his mouth found that spot below your jaw you didn’t even know was there. he pulled back for a second, just long enough to look at you. your hair was a little messy, your lips were red, your hands were still on him, and he couldn’t believe he’d spent so many nights trying to act casual about you.

and sunghoon — who had once nearly passed out just from you holding his hand at wendy’s — now had you under him, fingers teasing at your waistband, mouth trailing along your collarbone, fully lost in the way you were looking at him like you wanted everything at once.

you shifted under him, hips tilting up slightly. his hands were more confident now, not just hovering or tracing but gripping, like he didn’t want to miss any part of you. one hand slid up under your shirt, palm warm against your stomach, and he felt you tense just a little, then relax into it completely.

you tugged him closer, thighs parting so he could fit between them, and he fit there like he belonged, grinding down slowly, testing. your breath hitched, nails digging into his shoulders, and that did something to him. he groaned quietly, not on purpose, and you caught it. your fingers were in his hair again, tugging a little now, and he swore under his breath when your teeth grazed his bottom lip. your shirt was pushed up now, not off yet, but enough for his hands to explore, and his mouth followed the trail — slow kisses down your neck, then across your chest, lingering just long enough to make you arch into him. your breath hitched again, and he looked up at you, completely gone.

“tell me if you want me to stop,” he said, serious for a second, low and right against your skin.

you shook your head. “don’t.”

your hands were under his shirt now, greedy and warm, and he let out a shaky breath as you slid them up his back. “fuck,” he muttered. “you feel so good—better than i ever imagined.” he kissed you again, hungrier this time, like he wanted to memorize your mouth. “you’re so fucking pretty, y/n. can’t believe i get to touch you.”

your shirt was off now, just tugged over your head and dropped somewhere behind you, and sunghoon stared for maybe a second longer than he meant to. not out of shock, but because he couldn’t believe you were real. that this was real. that this was actually happening. and then you reached for the hem of his shirt, fingers cool against his stomach, and that was it, he was done pretending he had a single functioning thought left in his head.

he let you pull it over his head, arms moving clumsily, breath already shallow. your hands were on his skin before the fabric even hit the floor, sliding up over his chest, across his shoulders, and he had to physically stop himself from just collapsing into you. you bit your lip when his hips rolled into yours again, slower this time, like he was testing the friction. your breath caught, and you arched into him without thinking. “hoon…”

his whole body shuddered when you said his name like that. “god, you sound so good,” he breathed. “you don’t even know what you do to me.” his hands were back on your waist now, warm and grounding, and he kissed you again, slower, sweeter, like he wanted to savor the taste of you. “you’re not gonna get rid of me after this, you know,” he whispered into your mouth. “not after i’ve had you like this.”

you smiled a little, breathless. “who said i wanted to get rid of you?”

that made him pause for a second, just to look at you again, like he couldn’t believe this was really happening. “jesus,” he muttered. “you’re gonna ruin me.”

you pulled him down for another kiss, hands slipping lower, dragging your fingers across the waistband of his pants. he groaned when your palm brushed over him through the fabric, hips twitching like he couldn’t help it. “fuck, baby,” he hissed, “you’re making it really hard to be gentle.”

“then don’t be.”

he let out this low, disbelieving laugh like you’d just told him the best secret in the world. tugging your skirt and panties down, he kissed his way along your hips and lower, dragging his mouth over your skin like he was savoring you already. “every part of you… perfect,” he whispered, eyes flicking up just once to see your chest rising, lips parted. “i wanna touch you everywhere.”

and he meant it. his hands were warm and steady, spreading over your thighs, your waist, your stomach, exploring you like you were something rare. he took his time, like he’d waited too long to rush now, brushing his fingers gently along your inner thigh, coaxing goosebumps to rise under his touch. you were already shivering with anticipation when he kissed the inside of your knee, then higher, then higher again.

you whimpered, hips lifting involuntarily, and he kissed down your stomach slowly, lips dragging over your skin like a promise. his hands settled on your thighs, thumbs stroking gently over the soft skin there. then he paused, and his eyes flicked up to yours, darker now, but still so soft.

“can i taste you?” he asked, voice quiet but low with need. “please, baby. i need it.” your breath caught. your fingers threaded through his hair almost instinctively as you nodded, thighs parting just a little in silent answer. “yeah?” he breathed, kissing the inside of your thigh. “you’ll let me take care of you?”

“yes,” you whispered, already trembling. “sunghoon, please.”

he groaned, like that was all he needed to hear. “thank you,” he murmured, kissing higher. “gonna make you feel so good, pretty girl.”

and then his mouth was on you, tongue sliding between your folds with that slow, deliberate stroke, and your whole body jolted under him.

“fuck—so sweet,” he groaned, his voice muffled against you. his fingers came up to part you gently, spreading you open so he could really taste you. “you’re unreal, baby. can you feel how wet you are for me?”

you gasped, back arching, one hand gripping the sheets while the other tangled in his hair like it was the only thing keeping you grounded. he groaned again when you tugged, clearly enjoying every reaction he pulled from you. he licked into you like he was starved for it, slow at first, methodical, dragging his tongue in long strokes and humming low when your thighs tensed around his shoulders. then, when he sucked your clit into his mouth, you cried out, hips bucking off the bed, and he held you down firmly, not letting up for a second.

“that’s it,” he said against you, his breath hot and his tone ragged. “so fucking good for me.”

you couldn’t even speak, just moaned and gasped, feeling your whole body coil tighter and tighter as he kept working you over with that perfect mouth. your thighs were trembling now, breath shaky, every nerve strung taut. he reached up, lacing your fingers with his, grounding you just as the pressure tipped over into something explosive. “come for me,” he murmured, voice low and coaxing. “let me have it.”

and you did. you shattered beneath him, shaking, your body clenching and curling in on itself as the orgasm crashed over you, white-hot and overwhelming. you called his name, half gasp, half cry, pulling at his hair with one hand and squeezing his hand tight with the other. your body stuttered, hips twitching, thighs clamped around his head, but he didn’t stop until your whimpers turned desperate, overstimulated and wrecked.

“okay,” you panted, tugging weakly at his shoulder. “okay—hoon—please…”

he finally pulled back, lips shiny, cheeks flushed, and eyes completely wild with awe. he looked like he’d just seen god, and maybe he had. you. unraveling for him, only for him. “you’re…” he started, voice rough as he crawled back up your body, kissing your stomach, your chest, your throat, your jaw. “you’re fucking perfect. i’ve never—never wanted someone like this.”

you cupped his face as he hovered over you, and he leaned into your touch instantly, forehead pressed to yours, his breathing still ragged, like he couldn’t believe any of this was real. “you don’t even know what you do to me,” he whispered, voice hoarse and low. “i’ve wanted this, wanted you, for so long.”

you kissed him again, slower this time, your fingers brushing through his hair, and he deepened it with a quiet groan, like he needed to taste you to keep himself grounded. when he pulled back, just enough to look at you, his eyes were wild and soft all at once, like he was overwhelmed by you. “feel that?” he murmured, pressing his hips down against yours. “you make me this fucking desperate, baby.”

you gasped when he rolled his hips again, perfectly slow, perfectly cruel. “can still taste you on my lips,” he said, kissing you once more. “i want you to taste it too.” the kiss this time was messier and you could feel yourself melting into it. he kissed you like he wanted you ruined, like he needed you wrecked and shaking and breathless. and you were close already, so close again from just that, from the way he said your name like a secret prayer.

“turn over for me,” he whispered suddenly, voice dipped in reverence. you did, your body trembling a little with anticipation as you shifted onto your stomach, heart racing. he traced your spine with his fingers, slow and deliberate, until both hands settled at your waist. “you’re unreal,” he whispered, and he meant it. “do you know that? the way you sound, the way you feel… i could lose my mind just looking at you.”

he leaned down then, mouth brushing the back of your shoulder, trailing kisses down your spine as his hands slid down, thumbs spreading gently over your hips like he was committing every inch of you to memory. “you drive me crazy,” he murmured. “every time you look at me, every time you laugh… fuck, i’m so gone for you.”

and when he kissed the back of your thigh, slow and lingering, you felt it everywhere, like heat blooming under your skin. “let me take my time with you,” he said, kissing his way back up. “wanna make you feel good. wanna make you remember this.”

you could only nod, breath caught in your throat, hands fisting the sheets beneath you. because sunghoon didn’t just want to touch you, he wanted to worship you. his hands smoothed over your hips, firm but reverent, as he bent down, pressing a kiss to the base of your spine. “you’re shaking,” he murmured, voice laced with awe. “still so sensitive, aren’t you?” you nodded, cheek pressed to the sheets, body already reacting to the weight of his touch. “but you’re taking it so well,” he whispered, one hand sliding between your thighs, coaxing them apart again. “you’re such a good girl for me.”

you gasped when his fingers found you, already soaked, still fluttering from the last time. “look at this,” he groaned, dragging his fingers through the slick mess he left behind. “this pretty little pussy just begging for more.”

you whined, pressing back against his hand without even meaning to, and he chuckled low behind you. “you want it again?” he asked, voice almost gentle. “need me to make you feel good, baby?”

“yes,” you breathed. “please.”

that was all he needed. he leaned down again, kissing the swell of your ass before spreading you open with both hands. and then he dipped his head, tongue sliding between your folds. you cried out, hips jolting, the sudden pleasure overwhelming. he groaned, licking you from behind like he was starving for it. you buried your face into the mattress, fingers clawing at the sheets, the stretch of your body making every sensation sharper.

his hands gripped your thighs as his mouth worked you open all over again, licking and sucking with the kind of desperation that made your knees weak. and then his hand slid under you, fingers rubbing tight circles on your clit as his mouth stayed on you, wet and relentless.

“that fucking pussy tastes so good,” he praised, voice breathless. “give it to me again. wanna feel you come on my tongue, baby.”

you were already spiraling, the pressure building fast and hot, your whole body wound so tight you could barely breathe. “fuck, sunghoon—i’m—”

and you did, again. shaking, crying out, your body going completely still before collapsing into tremors, overwhelmed by the heat of his mouth and the soft, dirty praise spilling from his lips. he didn’t stop until you were whimpering, twitching under him, begging him to stop, begging him to keep going, you couldn’t even tell anymore.

when he finally pulled back, panting, mouth glistening, he kissed your lower back and whispered: “you’re fucking perfect. i’m not done with you yet.”

he watches you as you turn over slowly, still catching your breath, your skin flushed and glowing, hair sticking to your forehead in messy strands. you’re a vision, wrecked and beautiful, lips swollen, eyes glassy, your chest rising and falling like you’ve just survived something holy. his gaze drags over you, slow, reverent, like he doesn’t know where to look first. like he wants to worship everything.

“fuck,” he breathes. “look at you…” you blink up at him, dazed and buzzing, legs still trembling from the last time he pulled you apart. his hands settle on your waist, grounding you. his thumb rubs soft circles into your skin like he’s easing you back into your body, not rushing, just feeling you.

“can i?” he asks, voice low and hoarse. there’s something almost shy in the way he says it, like he’s trying not to ruin the moment, like despite everything, he still needs to be sure you want this too.

you nod once, still breathless. “yeah,” you whisper. “please.”

his pupils darken, breath stuttering in his chest. the way you say please, oh, he could fall to his knees again just from that. he kisses you, slow at first, deep, aching, his tongue brushing yours like he’s trying to memorize your taste. and then it turns hungry, hands gripping your face like he can’t believe he gets to touch you, like he doesn’t want to come up for air. “you’re everything,” he murmurs against your lips, voice shaky. “i mean it—everything. i wanna make you feel so fucking good again.”

you let out the softest whimper, and that’s all he needs. he kisses down your jaw, your neck, between your breasts, leaves open-mouthed kisses down your stomach, taking his time. he’s not in a rush, he wants to savor you. his hand trails down, fingers brushing your inner thigh, and you part your legs for him instinctively. you’re still so sensitive, every little touch making you twitch, your hips lifting up to meet him. “this pretty pussy’s still so wet,” he groans, almost in disbelief. “you’re unreal, baby.”

his fingers slip between your folds again, dragging through the mess he made earlier, and you let out a gasp, hand flying to his wrist. “shh,” he soothes, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “i got you. just wanna make you feel good. let me take care of you, yeah?”

you nod, lips parted, already melting under his touch. he kisses you again, messy and hot, and then without warning he slides two fingers in deep, curling them just right. your mouth falls open in a silent cry, hips jerking. “that’s it,” he praises. “fuck, i love how you take me. your pussy is clinching around my fingers, baby.”

his fingers keep working you open, his mouth back on your neck, sucking dark marks into your skin like he wants to leave proof that he was here. and just when you think you’re going to fall apart again, he pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes. “you’re mine, right?” he asks, voice like gravel. “please say it, baby”

“i’m yours,” you breathe, and it comes out shaky, desperate.

he groans like he’s losing his mind. “good girl.”

his body hovered over yours, warm and steady, and when your eyes met, something shifted, like the air grew heavier, thick with everything you both had been holding back. he kissed you like a thank you, like a silent prayer, like he couldn’t believe you were real and his all at once. then he leaned back on his knees, eyes locked on yours as he brought his hands down to the waistband of his jeans. he popped the button open with a quiet click, dragging the zipper down slow, teasing, but there was a kind of quiet urgency in his movements too, like he couldn’t wait another second to feel you again.

when he pushed his jeans and boxers down, your breath caught. he was big. thick and flushed and perfect, tip already leaking, heavy against his stomach. your mouth went dry, heat curling low in your belly as you stared, he was so pretty it almost hurt, like every inch of him was made to ruin you.

his eyes watched your face carefully, catching the shift in your expression. “yeah?” he rasped, cock twitching under your gaze. “you like what you see, baby?”

you nodded before you could think, heart hammering, thighs already pressing together. “you’re perfect,” you whispered, almost breathless.

his lips parted at that, something dark and tender flickering behind his eyes. he leaned in, hand wrapping around himself as he hovered over you again, dragging his tip through your slick folds, slow and deliberate, teasing your entrance. “fuck,” he murmured, voice ragged. “say you want me, please.”

“i want you,” you breathed, hips lifting. “hoon—i need you.”

he groaned like the sound of your voice broke something in him. and when he finally sank into you, slow, deliberate, like he wanted to feel every inch of you claiming him back, it stole the air from your lungs. he bottomed out with a shudder, forehead pressed against yours, hand cupping your jaw like he needed the grounding just as much as you did.

his tip presses in first, thick and hot, and even though your body is already soaked and aching for him, the stretch is still overwhelming. your walls flutter around him, trying to pull him deeper, but he takes his time. his hands grip your hips, grounding you as he inches in further, every slow push making your body arch and your breath catch. “fuck—baby,” he chokes, eyes fluttering shut as he feels the way you clench around him. “you feel so good… so tight. taking me so perfectly.”

you can barely hold still. your fingers grip his lower back, your mouth falls open, and a moan tears from your throat, raw, needy, helpless. he leans down, chest brushing yours, and presses soft kisses along your collarbone, whispering into your skin between every word like a prayer. “you’re unreal. unreal, baby. fuck—”

your legs wrap around his waist instinctively, pulling him in further, and he groans deep and guttural, like he’s losing control. the last inch pushes in slow, your bodies finally fully connected, the heat between you almost unbearable. you both go still for a second, breath mingling, your hearts racing in sync. your walls flutter around him again, adjusting, and his forehead drops to yours. “you okay?” he breathes, voice wrecked, like it’s taking everything in him not to move.

you nod, eyes glazed. “so full,” you whisper. “feels so good.”

he groans softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “yeah? i’m gonna take care of you, pretty girl. i promise.”

and when he finally starts to move slowly, with deep thrusts that drag against your most sensitive spots, you swear you see stars. his hips roll into yours with precision, his body fitting against you like he was built for this, for you. every stroke hits just right, every whispered praise against your cheek making you melt further into the mattress.

“you’re doing so good,” he pants. “taking me so well. your fucking pussy feels so fucking good around my cock, baby.”

you reached for him with shaking hands, fingers sliding into his hair, pulling him up to meet your mouth in a hungry kiss. he groaned when your tongue slid against his, his body still trembling from the last time you came undone under him. but this time, you weren’t just going to take. you wanted to give back, to feel him fall apart for you too.

“lay back, hoon,” you whispered against his lips, voice still wrecked and sweet. “let me ride you.”

his eyes widened slightly, dark and heavy with heat, but he nodded, eager, desperate, completely at your mercy. he sank into the pillows, breath stuttering when you straddled his hips and reached between your bodies to guide him in. you both gasped at the stretch, the slick slide of him filling you again. but now it was your rhythm, your pace. slow at first, grounding yourself on his chest as you rocked your hips forward, letting him feel all of you. his hands gripped your thighs, mouth open in a silent moan as he looked up at you like he was watching something holy.

“fuck, baby,” he breathed. “you feel—jesus, you feel perfect.”

you rolled your hips again, a little faster, loving the way his voice cracked, the way his fingers dug deeper into your skin. his head fell back against the pillow, eyes fluttering shut, and you leaned down to kiss along his throat, his collarbone, your name falling from his lips like a prayer. “look at me, hoon,” you whispered, kissing the corner of his mouth. “wanna see your face when you fall apart.”

he did, eyes locking with yours, glassy and wild and reverent all at once. “keep going,” he begged, barely coherent. “just like that. you’re so good. keep riding me, baby. i’m not gonna last.”

you smiled, breathless, sweat-slicked skin sticking to his as you kept moving, kept grinding, kept giving him everything. and when his hips bucked up and he cried out your name like it was the only word he remembered, you knew you had him, ruined and wrecked and completely yours. “please, baby, i need,” he begged, barely coherent. “let me cum inside you, fuck— i need to fill you up, princess.”

you smiled and nodded, breathless, sweat-slicked skin sticking to his as you kept moving, grinding down on him with a rhythm that had both of you teetering on the edge. his hands roamed your body like he couldn’t get enough, gripping your hips, sliding up your sides, thumbs brushing over your ribs. like he needed to memorize you. “fuck, look at you,” he groaned, eyes locked on where your bodies met. “riding me so good. taking me so deep. this pussy was made for me, wasn’t it?”

you nodded, dazed, moaning as you bounced harder, chasing the high that was coiling tight in your belly again. and he didn’t stop talking, not for a second. “you feel that, baby? how tight you are around me? fuck, i’m losing it,” he breathed, voice rough and reverent. “you’re gonna make me cum inside you, such a good girl, fuck!”

you leaned down, kissed him hard, swallowing the broken sounds spilling from his mouth. he kissed you back like he needed it to breathe, tongue desperate, hands sliding up to cup your face. you were already there, his name falling from your lips like a prayer, body shaking from how deep he was hitting, how full he made you feel. and when you clenched around him again, when your orgasm hit with dizzying force, he lost it with you, hips stuttering, hands gripping your ass as he came with a strangled moan, burying his face in your neck while he filled you up.

you held each other, trembling, hearts racing. you were still catching your breath, chest heaving, skin slick with sweat, when he slid out of you, slow and careful, like he didn’t want to let you go just yet. you barely had time to whimper at the sudden emptiness before he was shifting, lying back against the pillows with a look in his eyes that made your stomach flip.

“come here,” he murmured, voice hoarse, one hand trailing down your spine. you blinked at him, legs weak, but then he grinned, lazy and wicked, and pulled you up gently by the hips. “wanna taste you like this,” he said, guiding you forward until your thighs were straddling his face. “wanna feel the mess you made all over me.”

your breath caught. “sunghoon—”

“shh,” he whispered, eyes dark and blown wide. “you’ve been so good for me. let me be good for you now.”

he didn’t wait for permission this time. his hands gripped your thighs and pulled you down onto his mouth like he’d been starving for it. his tongue was filthy, flat and firm and everywhere, licking you clean, then messy again, kissing and sucking and moaning against your skin like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

you cried out, hips rolling without thought, thighs trembling around his head. and he took it, wanted it, his fingers digging into your flesh as he held you steady. “fuck—sunghoon,” you gasped, one hand in his hair, the other braced on the headboard.

he groaned into you, the sound vibrating through your core. “that’s it, baby. ride my face. come on—fuckin’ use me.”

your thighs shook harder with every swipe of his tongue, every slick, obscene noise echoing in the room, and when he closed his mouth around your clit and sucked just right, your whole body went rigid. and when he pressed his nose around your clit and held your hips and made you grind around his face, oh god, you lost it. “that’s it,” he murmured, breathless and soaked, licking you through it. “come all over my face, baby. let me feel you fall apart again.”

and you did again. and again. until your body gave out, and you collapsed into him, trembling, boneless, his arms around your waist, kissing your thighs like they were sacred.

“you’re unreal,” he whispered, voice thick with awe. “how the fuck did i get so lucky?”

his grip softened as he felt you tremble above him, and when you finally started to come down, your thighs still quivering around his face, he slowed. but his mouth didn’t stop. he kept kissing you with soft, kitten licks, gentle, rhythmic, like he was savoring every last drop of you. little hums vibrated against your skin as he pressed sweet, worshipful kisses between your folds, almost lazy now, like he was calming you down with his tongue.

you gasped softly, too sensitive, your hips twitching with every warm, delicate lick. “can’t get enough of you,” he whispered against your heat, nuzzling between your thighs. “you taste like heaven, baby.”

he let go of your waist just enough to guide you off him, helping you lie down on the mattress with shaky limbs. and then, slow, almost reverent, he climbed over you. he kissed your inner thighs first, lips soft and warm and open. then the swell of your hips, your stomach, your ribs. each kiss was slow and full of something deeper, like he was memorizing you now, not just your body but you, soaking in every inch.

“my pretty girl,” he murmured against your skin. “my favorite thing in the world.”

his mouth reached your chest, kissing over your heart, then up the column of your throat, slow and smiling. by the time he reached your lips again, your eyes were already fluttering shut, your body humming with warmth. he kissed you sweetly, lovingly. no rush. just the kind of kiss that said you’re mine, i’ve got you, i’m still here. and when you sighed into his mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair again, he whispered, “i want to make you so happy.”

you were both lying there, still breathing a little unevenly, not quite ready to move. the room was warm in that quiet, post-everything way. your leg was draped over his without thinking, one of his hands resting on your stomach, steady now, grounding. the other hovered in the space between your ribs and your hip, like he wanted to touch more of you but didn’t want to push anything too far than he already did.

and sunghoon wasn’t staring on purpose, he just couldn’t stop looking at you. your hair was messy. your skin was warm. you had that look on your face like you were pretending to be calm but weren’t. and he couldn’t stop replaying the last hour in his head, not even the specifics, just the fact that it happened. it happened, you happened, with him.

you wanted him. he couldn’t believe it. because this wasn’t some almost. this wasn’t a flirty text or a maybe-lingered hug or a “did that mean something?” moment. this was real, it happened. you were here in his arms. naked. smiling. breathing slow. and the truth was — it was the best thing that had happened to him in a long, long time.

not just the sex. that was insane, amazing. unfair, honestly. but it was more than that. it was how close you let him be. it was the way you looked at him like he wasn’t just some guy. like you’d been waiting for him just as much as he’d been waiting for you. and he was trying to memorize it all. the heat of your skin under his hand. the curve of your smile when you caught him staring. the weight of your leg over his, like you weren’t planning to go anywhere.

you turned your head toward him, cheek pressed into the pillow, eyes still lazy and soft. “you’re staring.”

he blinked. “no i’m not.”

“you literally are.”

he swallowed, trying not to smile. “okay. yeah. but respectfully.”

you raised an eyebrow. “what does that even mean?”

“means i’m just... taking it all in,” he said, quieter now. “i don’t know. trying to make sure this wasn’t a dream or something.”

you didn’t laugh at that. you didn’t roll your eyes or change the subject. you just looked at him, and he looked at you, and for once, he didn’t say anything else. because for the first time in a long time, everything he wanted was already here. and he wasn’t gonna miss a single second of it.

so he shrugged, face somehow more relaxed than you’d ever seen it. “just means i’m admiring you without being weird about it.”

“you just called me your favorite thing in the world like five minutes ago.”

“and i meant it,” he said, no hesitation. “top tier. no notes.”

you smiled, then looked up at the ceiling. “this is weird.”

sunghoon blinked. “like... weird in a good way or weird like we should never do this again and i should move to another country?”

“no, dumbass.” you laughed. “like weird that this actually happened,” you said. “we’ve been circling each other forever and now we’ve crossed into, like, very naked territory.”

he turned onto his side to look at you properly, propping himself up on one elbow. “you say that like i wasn’t already fully in love with you the second you stole my last fry that one night.”

you laughed, soft and tired, and scooted closer. “you’re such a dumbass.”

“i contain multitudes,” he said, smiling.

you leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth, just because it was there. just because you could now. after a few quiet seconds, he added, “i also might’ve... rehearsed stuff. in my head. like this. this whole night. not, like, in a creepy way. just. i thought about it a lot.”

“how much is ‘a lot’?”

“you don’t wanna know.”

you looked at him, eyes narrowing. “sunghoon.”

“like... entire imaginary scenarios,” he said, face slightly red now, voice muffled as he dropped back onto the pillow. “dialogue included. you said very flattering things in my head, by the way.” you started laughing, trying to muffle it into his shoulder, and he groaned. “this is the worst post-sex confession in history.”

“no, this is peak you,” you said. “romantic and slightly unhinged.”

“you make me unhinged,” he muttered, then covered his face with one hand. “i’m never speaking again.”

you reached over, peeled his hand away, and kissed his cheek. “don’t worry. you already said everything right.” he went quiet after that, just looking at you again, softer now. less flirty. more like he couldn’t believe you were real. you held the look for a second, then nudged him again. “also, i still can’t believe your pokémon username is shadyhoon420.”

“why would you bring that up now,” he whispered, betrayed.

“because you just made me see god and now i’m ready enough to bully you again.”

he groaned again, dragging the blanket up over his face. you laughed and curled into his side anyway, and even though he was pretending to be dramatic, his arm pulled you in without hesitation. and that was how you stayed. warm, tangled, slightly wrecked, and fully, unapologetically into each other.

the week after was weird. not in a bad way, just different. like, sunghoon hadn’t really planned what came after sleeping with you. his brain had mostly stopped at oh my god it’s happening, and never got around to figuring out what do i do now that it did. turns out: what he did was text you every morning like he hadn’t just seen you eight hours ago. send you playlists like he hadn’t already made three for you. randomly show up with coffee and snacks like he wasn’t trying to see you again that night anyway.

he was down bad. and he wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore.

he came over two days later with your favorite ice cream. not because you asked, not even because you hinted. just because he passed a convenience store and thought, she likes that one with the caramel stuff, i should get that. you answered the door in pajama shorts and one sock, took the ice cream, kissed his cheek, and said “you’re so obsessed with me” like it was a joke, but he just said “yeah” and followed you inside like it was true. because it was.

he slept over again that night. and the night after that. and the one after that. and by monday, all his stuff was still technically at his place, but his phone charger, his cologne, and three pairs of socks had somehow migrated to your apartment. you made fun of him for the socks, and he said it was “for emergency purposes,” which didn’t even make sense, but you let it slide.

you, on the other hand, got more chaotic just in a very you way. you started kissing him in the middle of sentences. reaching under his hoodie in the middle of a movie. you’d say stuff like “should we go to bed?” with your hand already halfway down his back, and when he asked “to sleep?” you’d just grin and walk off like you’ll see.

you also started calling him ridiculous things in front of other people. “my man,” “baby,” “loverboy.” jay almost choked on his drink when you casually said “sunghoonie, pass me that” in the middle of a group hang. sunghoon blinked three times in a row and handed you the drink without speaking.

you were reckless with it. you sat in his lap at his apartment like it was a chair. held his hand in public. bit his earlobe once while he was trying to explain something about pokémon raids and ruined his entire train of thought. he was spiraling, but, like, happily.

he said “i like you” at least twice a day, sometimes for no reason. he told you your hair looked nice even when it didn’t. he got quieter whenever you wore his clothes but didn’t take them back. once, when you said “you’re kinda clingy now, huh,” he just said “yeah. sorry. can’t stop.”

you didn’t mind. you teased him constantly but kissed him just as much. called him ridiculous but curled into him every night. and when he said “i think i like this version of us,” you said “me too,” and kissed the corner of his mouth like you planned to stay that close for a while. maybe longer.

sunghoon had been thinking about asking you to be his proper girlfriend for, like, a week and a half. well, technically longer. emotionally since day one. but officially? yeah, one and a half weeks of pure, uninterrupted chaos in his brain. the problem wasn’t that he didn’t want to ask you. the problem was that he wanted it too much. he wanted to do it right. he wanted it to be special, but not cringe. romantic, but not too much. surprising, but not out of nowhere. he didn’t want to scare you. but he also didn’t want you to think he was casual about this. he wasn’t. he was emotionally unwell about it, actually.

so, naturally, he did the worst possible thing: he asked jay for advice.

they were at their place, sitting on the floor, jay had just beaten him at mario kart for the third time and was in his usual post-victory smug mode when sunghoon blurted out, “do you think now’s too soon to ask her to be my girlfriend?”

jay blinked. “you literally sleep over at her place more than your own.”

“i know, but, like... we haven’t said anything. there’s been no official label. it’s like... unofficially official.”

jay stared. “sunghoon. you watched her floss her teeth while you sat on the counter eating cereal and telling her she looked cute. it’s not unofficial.”

“yeah, but what if she thinks it’s too soon?”

“too soon for what? be so fucking for real, bro.”

sunghoon groaned and flopped backwards onto the floor. “i can’t just casually be like ‘hey do you wanna be my girlfriend’ while we’re ordering chicken nuggets or something.”

“why not?”

“because this is the most important relationship of my life and i want it to sound like i’m not twelve.”

jay, full of support and zero delicacy, said, “then don’t say it while you’re ordering chicken nuggets.”

sunghoon glared at the ceiling. “useless.”

still, he spent the next few days trying to figure it out. he made a mental list of possible locations. cafes were too noisy. your apartment was too... your apartment. the bar had too many witnesses. he considered writing it down. he considered saying it in a whisper and pretending it slipped out. he considered doing nothing and just dying instead.

then it happened on a wednesday. you were walking out of a little local bookstore you dragged him into, laughing at something he said, your hand linked with his like it belonged there. the woman behind the counter, older, smiley, had said, “you two are cute. your boyfriend’s so patient.”

you laughed, still flipping through the book you bought. “i know, right?”

you didn’t correct her. you did not correct her. sunghoon short-circuited for a solid five seconds. he tried to keep walking like a normal person, but his grip on your hand got a little tighter, and his brain was already in full meltdown mode.

boyfriend. she said boyfriend. and you didn’t say oh no, we’re not dating, or oh, we’re just hanging out, or he just follows me around like a sad dog. you agreed, you claimed him. it counts. it totally counts.

he waited a whole five minutes before blurting out, “so. about that boyfriend comment.”

you glanced up. “what about it?”

“you didn’t, like... correct her.”

you tilted your head. “should i have?”

he blinked. “i mean... no. no, not if you didn’t want to.”

“i didn’t,” you said simply.

sunghoon’s brain made a sound like dial-up internet for a second. he swallowed. “cool. yeah. just checking.”

you stopped walking and looked at him. “wait. is that— were you trying to ask me something just now?”

“what? no.” he paused. “yes. maybe.”

you smiled. “sunghoon.”

“okay, yes. yes,” he said, running a hand through his hair and suddenly regretting everything he’d ever said to jay. “i’ve been trying to ask you if you wanted to be my girlfriend for, like, ten business days. but i kept spiraling. and then you didn’t correct that lady and i had a full-body reaction.”

you laughed, leaning into him slightly. “you could’ve just asked me.”

“i know, but i like you so much that my brain stopped working and i didn’t want to mess it up.”

“you think calling me your ‘favorite thing in the world’ before asking me to date you wasn’t already kind of intense?”

“i blacked out that night. i don’t remember saying that.”

“you did.”

“okay. good. just making sure i’m consistent.”

you leaned in and kissed his cheek, still smiling. “sunghoon, obviously i want to be your girlfriend.”

he blinked. “really?”

“yes.”

he hesitated, eyes narrowing like he’d just remembered something haunting. “even after finding out that i was your sworn enemy on pokémon go for, like, four months?”

you started laughing immediately. “you mean when you admitted you were shadyhoon420, the gremlin who stole my gym every tuesday at 3 a.m.?”

“i was fighting for my honor,” he said, dead serious.

you grinned. “and now we’re dating. weird plot twist.”

he smiled, a little crooked. “great plot twist.”

you squeezed his hand again, leaned your head on his shoulder as you walked, and said, “don’t worry, boyfriend. i forgive your crimes.”

sunghoon was never recovering from being called “boyfriend” out loud. he almost tripped on the sidewalk. he grinned, slightly dazed, like someone who just won the lottery but doesn’t know where to cash it in. you grabbed his hand again and kept walking, like it was already decided. and honestly, it kind of was.

you ended up at his place that night. neither of you really said it out loud, but that was kind of the routine now. he still pretended he needed to “grab something” from his apartment just to have an excuse to follow you around his kitchen while you made popcorn. you still pretended to ask if you were staying over when you both knew your toothbrush had lived there for two weeks. he let you steal his hoodie again. you let him kiss you every time he walked past you, which was often, because he kept “forgetting things” in the living room. at some point you both crashed on the couch with your legs over his and his head resting against yours, some episode of how i met your mother playing in the background.

he was barely listening. you weren’t either. it was just there, familiar and comfortable. then, somewhere between the episode where ted steals the blue french horn and barney pretending to have a fake job at a bank, you turned to him and said, “you know what the best part of this is?”

“the popcorn?”

“okay, second best.”

“me?”

“third best.”

he laughed, nudged your knee with his. “okay, what’s the best part?”

you turned to face him fully, your chin resting on your hand now, your expression weirdly serious but also like you were holding back a laugh. “one day,” you said, “i’m gonna tell our kids this whole story. the gyms. the snacks. the pokémon betrayal. all of it.”

he blinked. “kids?”

“future,” you added quickly. “far future. relax. no one’s getting pregnant during a rerun of season three.”

“okay. just making sure.”

you grinned. “and when i tell them, i’m gonna look them in the eyes and say: and that, kids, is how i met sunghoon.”

he stared at you, then he burst out laughing, then he kissed you. and when he pulled back, smiling like he couldn’t help it, hoodie half falling off your shoulder, popcorn completely forgotten on the floor, he said, “you’re so annoying.”

you leaned into his side. “you’re obsessed with me.”

he kissed your forehead. “yeah,” he said. “i really, really am.”

and that was that. no big speech. no sweeping declarations. no fireworks or dramatic music or anything you’d write into a script. just two slightly ridiculous people, curled up on a too-small couch, limbs tangled in the kind of way that only happens when you’ve stopped pretending to need personal space, one of them wearing a hoodie that never belonged to them in the first place, both of them halfway through a rewatch of a sitcom about love and fate and timing, while very quietly, and maybe without fully realizing it, living proof of all those things was sitting right there beside them.

and that, kids… is how you met sunghoon.

author’s note: okayyyyy i wrote this as a little gift for my best friend aka my sister, and it’s actually the first time i’ve written for sunghoon since nicest guy (which feels kinda wild) andddd i’ve always loved how i met your mother!!! my fav show everrrr nd i wanted to write something that felt like that yk just full of funny warm happy momentssssss nothing too heavy, just soft and slow-burn feelings hehe i hope you enjoyed it as much as i loved writing it ♡

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